A/N: So, I realize that I am terrible for not having updated The Bodyguard in SO LONG, but the story just kind of got away from me, as did RL. Rest assured I'm working on a new story that I hope you will all love, but I want to wait to post it until I have a significant chunk written so that what happened with The Bodyguard doesn't happen again. In the meantime, I was watching IWRY the other day and was inspired to write this one-shot. If you like it, tell me. If you hate it, tell me. I will love you forever either way.

KSue

"So, then let's just stick to the plan. Keep our distance until a lot of time has passed, and given enough time, we should be able to…"

"Forget."

It took all the strength Buffy had left to watch Angel kill the Mohra, again, and walk out into the light. Once in her car, her tears wouldn't be held at bay. She sobbed for what felt like forever, screaming curses at the Power's That Be and at Angel, and at herself. She rallied at the unfairness of it all. She and Angel had gotten what they'd always dreamed of, always hoped for, and then it was taken away. Ripped from them in one painful instant.

Buffy had told Angel she would never forget, and she hadn't. She didn't know how or why, but she'd come out of the temporal fold with her memories intact. She could still feel Angel's heart beating under her hand, she could still smell the sea salt as he'd kissed her on the pier.

This is a dream. You're human for like a minute and already there is Cookie-dough-fudge-mint-chip in the fridge.

And she was walking away.

She knew why Angel had made the choice he did. She understood, just like she'd told him. But she hated it. She wanted him. She'd had more of him now, and it was going to be even harder to let him go than it had been after their one single night of passion.

When Buffy felt she was calm enough, she started the car and drove back to Sunnydale. Being in L.A. to see her father was crap, she hadn't spoken to him in months, but she hadn't wanted Angel to think she was just there to chew him out.

Willow and Oz were lounging on Willow's bed, cuddled up and talking, when Buffy walked into their dorm room. She had to choke back tears and fight the urge to run.

"Buffy, are you okay?" Willow asked, bolting up in bed. Buffy should have known she would never be able to sneak her tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes past her best friend.

"Sure." Willow gave Oz an apologetic look and climbed out of bed, moving across the room to stand next to Buffy. Oz quietly slipped out.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Buffy dissolved into tears once again. Willow gave a squeak of alarm and wrapped her arms around Buffy, leading them to sit on Buffy's bed.

"Shhh, Buffy, it's alright."

"It's not. Nothing is alright," Buffy sobbed.

"Buffy…did something happen?" Willow asked, pulling just slightly away from Buffy.

"God, Willow, so much happened." Willow frowned.

"Buffy, you were barely gone long enough to have seen Angel for more than a few minutes. What did he say to you?"

More than ever I know how much I love you.

"If I tell you what happened, will you let me get the whole story out before you say anything?" Buffy asked, still trying to reign in her tears. Willow nodded.

Buffy recounted the story to Willow, the entire day and night that she'd spent with Angel, the fight with Mohra, the fights with each other, the love, and the tears. Buffy's sobs began anew as she recounted the last minute of Angel's human existence.

I felt your heart beat.

By the time she was finished, Willow was crying too. They held each other and cried for a long time, before Buffy was able to speak again.

"I'm so angry with him Willow. I hate him so much for this," Buffy sobbed, unable to voice the 'but' that was on the tip of her tongue.

"But you still love him just as much." As always, Willow was there to take over.

"More."

"What are you going to do?" Willow asked. Buffy sniffed, getting up and slowly changing into sweats, ones she had borrowed from Angel at some point and never given back. Willow noticed. After Angel left, Buffy had worn those sweats for three weeks. Xander had wanted to burn them when she'd finally changed into something else. Willow would recognize those sweats anywhere.

"I think Angel made it perfectly clear what he thinks about the matter," Buffy sighed.

"Buffy, you know that's not true. You said Angel told you over and over how much he loved you."

"I can't think that, Willow. If I do…I just can't."

"If you do, you'll go to him?"

"Yes."

"Maybe you should."

Willow got up and pulled Buffy into a hug.

"Do you want me to stay, or would you like some time alone?" Willow whispered into her ear. Buffy's reply was barely a whisper.

"Alone."

"I'll be at Oz's, if you need me." With a kiss to Buffy's forehead, Willow was gone.

*

This time, it only took a week for Buffy to get out of Angel's sweats. Willow was careful not to push too hard, and no one else was privy to what had transpired in L.A.

But one couldn't count Buffy getting dressed a victory, because instead of moping in sweats, she threw herself into slaying. The demon population was way down, but Buffy was running herself into the ground. Everyone noticed.

And Buffy was having dreams. Every night she dreamed of her time with Angel, and she woke up sobbing so intensely that most of the time she made herself sick.

"I don't know what to do," Willow told Oz as she laid on his bed. He sat on the floor, lazily strumming his guitar.

"There might not be anything you can do." Willow had told Oz only that Buffy had been thrown by her encounter with Angel, nothing of the specifics.

"But I want to help her." Oz gave Willow a measured look and then shrugged.

Willow sighed, wishing for all the world that she could help her friend. She couldn't stop the tears that leaked from her eyes. Oz's arms went around her, holding her close and stroking her hair.

"It's so unfair, Oz. It's all so unfair."

*

Angel collapsed into his chair, weary after a night of battling demons. He pulled a sweater from underneath the throw pillow and held it to his face, breathing in the scent of Buffy. It was one of the few things he'd taken of her, a few photos and this sweater that still held her scent after months.

"Angel?" Cordelia asked carefully, coming down the stairs into his apartment.

"Yeah, Cordy?"

"Doyle and I were going to go for some breakfast. Do you want to come?" Angel looked up at Cordelia's face. Good, sweet, shallow Cordelia who'd become one of his only friends. She looked hopeful. Angel gave his best smile, but shook his head.

"I'll pass. You guys go have a good time."

Cordelia's face fell and Angel felt a momentary pang of guilt at causing it. But then it was gone and so was Cordelia. Angel let out a sigh and stood, shedding his shirt and pants and crawling into bed, holding the sweater close.

He missed her. His decision to take back his humanity was the worst and best decision he'd ever made, next to leaving Buffy. How could it be two extremes at once? How could he know in the deepest parts of his soul that Buffy was better off without him, and at the same time want to run back into her arms and forget he'd ever thought of it?

It was going on a week and four days since she'd walked out of his office. A week and four days since he'd seen her bright green eyes, since he'd seen her smile, since he'd kissed her.

You won't. No one will know but me.

Everything we did…

It never happened.

When he dreamed, he dreamed of the day they never shared.

*

The day dawned bright, and Willow hoped that the California sun would help Buffy out of her funk. It didn't. The Slayer was ornery all through breakfast and into Psych. Willow saw Riley eyeing Buffy and tried to warn him away, that she wasn't in the mood for a man that wasn't Angel, but he was oblivious. He reached out to touch Buffy's shoulder, and she flinched. Willow had never seen Buffy flinch from anyone's touch.

"Hey Buffy," Riley smiled. Buffy gave him a weak grin that was really more a baring of teeth.

"Hi."

"So, listen, I was thinking maybe we could get some coffee or something? Sometime?"

"Um…sometime." Willow gave Riley an apologetic smile.

"She's just…going through a rough time, Riley. Ask again later, okay?"

"Sure. Thanks Willow."

Willow followed Buffy back to the dorm, shut the door, and put on her resolve face.

"Alright, Buffy, this has to stop." Willow watched Buffy bristle and readied herself for a fight.

"What are you talking about?" Willow sighed. Since Buffy had stopped crying four days ago, changed out of the sweats, and started on her demon killing spree, she'd also taken the denial route. She refused to acknowledge that she was upset about anything, that she had even seen Angel.

"You know what I'm talking about. Either go to L.A. and get Angel back, or get over him and go out with Riley."

"I can't go get Angel." Buffy muttered. Willow smiled, faking joy she did not feel.

"Great! Riley's a wonderful guy; really attentive, sweet, not to mention not so bad in the hottie department. I think for your first date you should…"

"Stop." Willow saw Buffy clench a fist.

"Stop what?"

"Just stop. I don't want to date Riley."

"Then Buffy?" Willow waited for Buffy to turn around and face her. She pointed to her resolve face. "Go get Angel."

After a long moment, Buffy smiled.

*

Angel was once again drowning his sorrows in fine Irish whiskey when he caught Buffy's scent. The heady mix of vanilla and danger invaded every one of his senses until he could see her standing in the doorway to his office. She wasn't dressed in a girly skirt and top this time, like she had been after Thanksgiving. No, this time she was dressed to kill in her red leather pants and black halter. A sliver of tan skin was peeking out and Angel wanted to fall to his knees and worship it.

"Buffy," he groaned, setting down his glass and rising ungracefully to his feet. He moved towards her with halting steps, sure that if he reached out to his vision, she would disappear.

"You're drunk?" Buffy asked, eyeing the bottle of whiskey. Angel shrugged. It didn't matter if she saw him drunk, she was just a dream, an apparition.

"Only way I get to see you," he answered. When he was close enough, he dropped to his knees, grabbed Buffy by the waist, and drew her in so that he could run his tongue along the waistband of her jeans. She was so warm beneath his fingers, thrumming with life. His tongue dipped into her belly button and she shivered.

"Angel, what are you doing?" Buffy asked. Her hands hung at her sides. Usually his dream Buffy ran them through his hair and over his shoulders.

"Kissing you." Buffy put her hands on his shoulders and pushed firmly. Angel frowned and looked up at her, thoroughly confused. Dream Buffy had never, ever pushed him away before.

"Angel, you need to snap out of it." Angel stood and fell back into his chair, the truth of the situation dawning on him.

"You're not a dream, are you?" He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his legs and rubbing his hands over his face, trying to clear the drunken haze. Buffy came closer, but was careful to keep the desk between them.

"No, I'm not."

"What are you doing here? I thought we were going to give each other space?" Space was key. If she came around the desk, which she wouldn't, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from making love to her. And then he would lose his soul. He really didn't want that.

"Yeah, well, when I can't stop thinking about what it was like to feel your heart beat beneath my fingers, giving you space is kind of hard." Angel's head snapped up and he met her fiery gaze.

"You remember?"

"I told you I wouldn't forget."

I'll never forget, I'll never forget, I'll never forget.

"You were supposed to."

"I've never been very good at doing what I'm supposed to."

Angel sighed. He didn't want her to remember. It was so much easier, so much less painful, if he could carry the knowledge of that day by himself. He could deal with that pain, at least it gave him dreams of Buffy that didn't end in death and destruction. But he didn't want Buffy to remember. He wanted her to move on with her life, to be happy with someone, anyone but him.

"Is that it? Did you come here just to rub my face in it?"

"No. I came here to give you a stern talking to. I know that there's a way to bind your soul. I know that you know that too. I know I want to be with you, and I know you want to be with me. I know a lot of things. What I don't know is why you won't stop being a pansy ass and figure it out."

"Buffy, there's more to it than just 'figuring it out'.'

"Like what?"

"Like…" he trailed off, unable to think of exactly what he should say. Buffy didn't waste any time jumping in.

"Exactly! Listen up, Angel, I'm sick of it. All of it. I'm sick of not being allowed to be with you, of dreaming of you every single night and not being able to wake up in your arms. I'm done. Find a way to anchor your soul."

She was gone before he could even blink.

*

Buffy smiled all the way through Psych class. Willow kept sneaking glances at her friend, a little worried for her sanity.

"Buffy, what is going on with you? You've been tight lipped ever since you got back from L.A. What's up?" Willow whispered, hoping Professor Walsh wouldn't hear them.

"Nothing," Buffy shrugged.

"Buffy…"

"Ms. Rosenberg, would you like to tell the entire class what it is you and Ms. Summers find so interesting?" Professor Walsh asked. Willow blushed and sank farther into her seat, shaking her head.

When class finally ended, Willow followed Buffy out of the lecture, practically running to keep up with her supernaturally inclined friend.

"Buffy, seriously! What's going on?" Willow begged.

"Hey Buffy?" Willow nearly groaned at the sound of Riley's approaching voice. She turned and met him halfway, reaching out to push him in the opposite direction.

"Riley…"

"You said try again later. It's later, and she looks like she's in a much better mood," Riley explained. Willow nodded and sighed.

"I know what I said, but now is not a good time." Riley hung his head and walked away. Willow watched him turn a corner before running back to catch up with Buffy.

"I gave Angel what for," Buffy explained.

"How so? What did you say to him?"

"I told him I was sick of it all, and that he needed to find a way to bind his soul and be with me."

"Buffy, we both know that Angel is a little more stubborn than that," Willow said gently, hoping she wouldn't break Buffy's heart.

"I know he is, but this will be different."

"Why?"

"Because I can feel it. Not just 'I have a hunch' feel it, but 'slayer senses going beserk' feel it. It's going to be different, Willow."

*

It took Angel a week to talk himself through all the reasons he and Buffy couldn't be together. It took him less than an instant to throw them all out the window. If there were a way to bind his soul, why shouldn't he and Buffy be together? He had left her thinking she wanted sunlight and babies. But obviously she wanted him more. And she could have babies. They could adopt, or use artificial insemination. Or something. Besides, Buffy was the slayer. She would never have a perfectly normal life. His mate was much smarter than he gave her credit for.

So, while he worked on cases, killing demons left and right, he and Doyle scoured books and the internet for ways to bind his soul. Cordelia gave them disapproving looks, huffing impatiently whenever he disappeared to follow another lead.

Angel was sitting in his desk chair, staring out at the sunny L.A. day and brooding as usual, when Doyle burst through the door breathing hard.

"I think I found it," he gasped in that familiar Irish lilt. Angel jumped to his feet.

"Found what? The spell?"

"I think so. 'Ere, have a look." Doyle laid a wrinkled piece of parchment on Angel's desk, putting a few knick knacks on each corner to keep it from rolling up. Angel bent over it, reading quickly through the ancient Sumerian.

"How could it have been this simple all along?" Angel mused, more to himself than to Doyle. He scanned the page again, making sure he hadn't missed anything.

"I don' know man, but if this works you could be back with your girl by dawn," Doyle pointed out. Angel nodded.

"Let's do it."

The ritual was simple. It involved Angel slicing the skin of his wrist with a sacred knife, bleeding into a sacred dish, and drawing sacred symbols over his heart, with his own blood, while Doyle chanted. All in all, a very sacred practice indeed. The moment he finished drawing the last symbol, he felt like someone were trying to rip out his heart. An iron fist closed around his un-beating heart and squeezed, not relenting for several long moments that felt like decades.

When it was done, Angel straightened.

"Was that right?"

"I think so," Doyle shrugged. Angel glared.

"Don't think so. Be sure." Doyle winced at the growl in his voice.

"I'm sure. Go get your girl."

*

Buffy had just fallen asleep when she felt ghostly hands skim over her body. They were cool, making her shiver as they brushed the outside swell of her breast. She'd had this exact dream many times. Angel would come in the middle of the night and wake her with kisses, tell her he was staying forever.

It was never real.

She felt the top of her pajamas slip away, cool lips close around a nipple, a tongue twirling around the stiff bud. She arched into the touch, moaning as nimble fingers slipped down the front of her shorts. She knew she was already wet, soaking for those fingers.

A shudder rolled over her as the fingers brushed her clit, another moan when the pad of one finger pressed down.

"Buffy, wake up," Angel's voice whispered in her ear.

"Nooo," she groaned. She would wake up and he would be gone, before they even got to the good stuff.

"Yes." The phantom touch disappeared and she whimpered. After a moment she stirred awake, blinking her eyes open and looking straight into the warm brown ones she dreamed of every night.

"Angel?"

"It's me, baby." Buffy shifted so that she was sitting up, not caring that her pajama top was still open, revealing her bare breasts. Angel's gaze shifted down towards them before snapping back up.

"Did you find it?" Tears welled in her eyes. How was it possible that his answer could give her everything she wanted? It seemed too easy. After years of heartache over him, one word, one night could fix it all.

"I found it. How do you think Willow would feel about having a single room?" Buffy saw the playfulness in Angel's eyes and wanted to weep.

"Why?"

"Because you're moving into the mansion with me."

Buffy squealed and launched herself at Angel, peppering his face with kisses until she reached his full, delicious lips, when the kisses became less playful, more passionate. Angel laid her back, settling over her so that he rested in the cradle of her thighs as they kissed, neither breaking contact. Buffy groaned. It felt so good to finally have him back where he belonged.

Buffy knew Angel wanted to take this slowly, especially by the way all her clothes were gone but his miraculously stayed, but she wanted no part of it. She wanted to feel him, all of him, as soon as possible. She had waited long enough.

"Angel, please, make love to me," she whispered, running her tongue along the shell of his ear and then biting his earlobe. A growl rumbled against her chest and she giggled as he sat up and quickly shed his clothes.

Without much prelude, Angel gently thrust home. Both lovers groaned at the sensation, complete after nearly two years of separation. For long moments, Angel was still, just kissing Buffy with so much love she couldn't help but cry. He drank up her tears before any of them hit the pillow and began slowly moving. He pulled back until just the very tip of his cock was brushing her nether lips and then thrust back in. Buffy let out a scream so loud she was sure the police would be banging on her door any moment.

"I love you," Angel grunted as his thrusts became more irregular, less fluid. Buffy's legs locked around his waist, pulling him farther in.

"I. Love. You."

In a blinding flash of light they came, together, and then collapsed on the bed wrapped in each other's arms.

"We definitely need to move to the mansion," Buffy gasped, trying to get her breathing under control.

"Why's that?" Angel laughed. Buffy rolled over so that she straddling Angel and began shifting back and forth in the most wicked way.

"Because I don't think I'll be able to keep quite. People might get the wrong idea," she smiled coyly.

With a growl, Angel pulled her down for a kiss.

This is the first time I've ever really felt this way.

What way?

Just like I've always wanted to. Like a normal girl, falling asleep in the arms of her normal boyfriend. It's perfect.

THE END.