The night was oddly cold and dark for LA, but Buffy didn't mind. After all the years of nocturnal wandering she almost felt more comfortable when dusk fell. When it was dark she was in charge. Which was why she was shocked at how out of control she felt as she strode quietly through the damp graveyard. The dark figure stood just where she knew he would be. But the shape of his shoulders told her he wasn't the strong man she remembered. He looked broken in a way she had never seen before and while it broke her heart it also sparked a small current of jealously through her. Before this night she wouldn't have believed that Cordelia could ever mean this much to him.

"Angel." She spoke softly but he spun around almost before the words left her mouth.

"Buffy, what are you doing here?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and moving protectively in front of the small gravestone.

She frowned at his question. His defensive stance and warn tone surprised her. She had thought he would be happy to see her, even under the circumstances.

"I came to pay my respects. To help you through this. Wesley said..."

"Wesley shouldn't have called you." Angel cut her off. "I don't need you here."

"I'm not here to pick a fight. You loved her and I can respect that. I mean it's hard because it's Cordelia but..." Buffy trailed off.

"You don't know her any more! She's not the girl you knew." Angel retorted, his voice increasing in volume.

"I know Angel. If you loved her she couldn't be." Buffy said softly, tucking her cold hands into her coat. When Angel didn't answer, Buffy continued.

"Zander and Willow came with me. They're resting at the hotel. There going to come by tomorrow, and you know, say goodbye. Giles wanted to come but her couldn't because of the new slayers." Buffy stated.

"Buffy the thing with Andrew, do you not trust me anymore?" Angel asked.

"I still trust you, but let's not talk about that. This is about Cordelia." Buffy finished, avoiding Angel's eyes. "I know it doesn't mean much, but we needed to come. For her."

"Buffy, she should be alive. We shouldn't be standing at her grave." Angel answered softly.

"She chose to make a difference. She could have had a perfectly shallow life as Queen C but she didn't want to. You and I didn't choose this life but she did. And in some ways that makes her more of a hero than either of us, Angel."

"Buffy, I don't know how to keep going. Everything hurts." When Angel looked at Buffy she saw him closer to despair than she ever thought was possible. Through everything else, she could always count on Angel to be strong. After looking at his trembling shoulders Buffy made a choice.

She reached out and wrapped her arms around him. He resisted at first but gradually relaxed. Then as much as Buffy wanted to be strong for him she couldn't hold in the tears. Tears for what she could never have. Tears for what Cordelia would never have. Tears for that part of Angel that Cordelia would always own but never get to hold. And then she started laughing through her tears.

Angel pulled back genuinely concerned, tears she hadn't noticed falling were evident on his face.

"It's funny." Buffy choked out, wiping the tears out of her eyes. "I came to comfort you and look who is doing the comforting."

"I'll always be here to comfort you." Angel said she took Buffy back into his arms and neither one could keep the tears at bay.

Away from the couple at the grave a man with a brown coat and a soft Irish accent stood watching with a beautiful curly haired woman.

"Are you ready to go me 'Delia?" he asked softly.

"Never." she answered. "But if I was, what would we do now?"

"We wait. And watch." he smiled lopsidedly at her.

"Together, Doyle?" she asked holding out her hand.

"Always together, princess." he answered, slipping his hand into hers.

For a moment the sound of two voices, one a lilting baritone and the other a laughing soprano echoed through the grave yard. When Buffy looked over Angel's shoulder, for a second she saw a woman turn around and smile radiantly at her, a smile that could only ever belong to Cordelia. Then the woman picked up the hand of the man with her and just as Buffy was sure it was Cordelia they were both gone.

"Angel," Buffy asked "What was the name of the Irish guy who used to work with you?"

Angel looked at Buffy puzzled, pulling away slightly but making no indication that he had noticed anything abnormal and answered. "Doyle. But he died years ago."

"Angel, what if I could guaranty to you that Cordy is happy?"

"I wish you could." Angel answered softly. "But you can't."

"She is. Happy I mean." Buffy responded and took a couple of steps away.

"How?" Angel asked. Enough weird things happened that he wasn't positive that this was just a ploy to make him less depressed.

"I see her smiling." Buffy answered over her shoulder and began her journey out of the graveyard.

Angel stood at Cordelia's grave until the dark shadows started to lighten. Just as he turned to leave he though he heard two familiar voices laughing, but then again, it could have only been the leaves.