Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Sigh.

Backstory: Future fic. Takes place after Buffy season 7 and Angel season 4. Changes: Connor is still with us. Pretend "Home" never happened. Pretend Angel and Cordy have a slightly different relationship, one of love, but not all consuming. And Connor's not so damn angry all the time! It's been four years since Angel has seen Buffy. Excuse the lines quoted from "Surprise", "I Will Remember You," "Once More, With Feeling," and "Enemies."

Feedback: Yes, please. Please be gentle, I'm new to the fanfic world.

I swallow, noticing a harsh crackling sound as I do. Did I burn my throat? I think, trying to turn my head on the pillow. "Dad," I hear vaguely in the muffled distance. Who's Dad? Am I in the hospital? What time is it? Where's…oh God, Cordy. She's still missing. The fire, the warehouse blowing up… "Dad!" Someone's shaking me. I blearily open one eye, and with a hiss of pain close it again, not before realizing that the urgent "Dad!" referred to is me. "Connor?" I manage to croak. "He's awake!" The boy turns his head and yelps to his companions…uh…Fred and Wesley. Ah, at least I remember something.

"Angel!" Fred's anxious face wavers into view, concern etching her small brow. "How are you feeling? We were so worried. How's your throat? Do you need some water?" Her babbling touches me, and for some reason a peaceful feeling that seems vaguely familiar steals over me. Then I recognize the feeling. I jerk my own head around this time just as her gaze meets mine. She's leaning in the corner, arms crossed over her chest, frowning at me with that look that is all too familiar, yet foreign. It's been, what, four years since I've seen her?

She looks a lot different, yet still the same slayer. The same… "Buffy? What are you…How?" Fred looks at me, a little sheepishly. "I called her, Angel. She made me promise the last time, after the Hellmouth closed, that I would call if you ever, well, you know, had a problem. And I really think this qualifies," she finishes hastily, as if waiting for to me admonish her. Which, considering the state I'm in, should not be any kind of concern.

"Fred, Wesley, could you give us a few minutes?" I get out before launching into another coughing fit. Connor hastily hands me water (with a bendy straw??) and I gulp it down as my two friends get up and exit the small room. Connor doesn't budge.

"Uh, son, could you excuse us a for a while?" I ask gently, finally able to work my burned vocal cords into a normal semblance of speaking. He gives me the look, then stands. "I'll be right outside, if you need anything," he says, shooting Buffy a death glare even she can't ignore. He never did like her. I can't image why.

She sits at the edge of the bed, takes my hand in her small one. "Hey," she says, "finally alone." She hesitates, looks away, starts to say something, then thinks better of it. "Do you need anything? Nurse? Doctor? Water? Blood?" she trails off, obviously nervous. She's nervous. Around me, the one person, well sort of person, who knows her best. Always will. No matter if we spent aeons apart, I would know her. As I told her once, if I was blind I could find her.

"So, Buffy, what are you really doing here?" I query her, kind of afraid of the answer. It's been so long since we've spoken, not counting the infrequent phone calls, that I'm actually slightly afraid of her. She looks, well…older. But so much wiser and…good lord…she's filled out spectacularly. Hair darker, more like a woman now than that teenage girl I loved so long ago. Her simple white tee shirt and jeans torn and stained, the cross hanging from her neck (my god is that the one I gave her?) slightly askew.

"Well, I did make Fred promise me. You know, not being the only chosen one any more makes the days slow sometimes. Gotta help where I can," she jokes. "That warehouse explosion, full of nastys. Fred figured you might need my help. Especially with Cordy missing…" she trails off, not wanting to meet my eyes. Oh, Cordy. There's a conundrum I did not expect to have to discuss with this particular friend. Two women in my life, both great loves, yet neither to be. So different, yet so fitting in all their ways. Dark and light. One full of innocent nights of passion, tears, hunger and hope. One full of laughter, new beginnings, and new promises now broken. I sigh.

She looks up at the sound, a small smile on her face. "I really don't need anything, Buffy. I'm truly okay now. Didn't expect to inhale flames, but, I heal fast. Don't know why they brought me here. Its not like the doctors can do much but be astounded by my lack of breath and heartbeat." "Actually, this place kind of caters to the…different," she explains. I finally notice my surroundings, and realize I am not at Cedars Sinai like I had assumed, but a much smaller place.

"Wong's?" I ask her. "Yeah," she answers. "He knew he could at least have room for you while you healed. Plus, his nurses don't mind it when a dead guy talks," she laughs a bit at her own lame humor.

"Look, Angel," she says, all seriousness now. She waivers, not sure of herself. I'm suddenly full of uneasiness. "I will always come running when you need me. Always. You're in my blood, my heart, my soul. No matter if we spent years apart, and we have, you're still 'it' for me. I'd never let you down. Not if you need me. Not like this. Not when we were almost sure…" she breaks off. Is she crying? What am I not remembering about this recent accident? I also realize what she has just said to me. I'm actually flabbergasted, confused, adrift. Here the first woman I ever loved is right in front of me, saying things I have longed to hear from her forever, and I don't know how to react. My feelings for another start to surface, not sure where they belong. "But Angel," my mind whispers to me, "this is Buffy here. Your one true love. Remember?" Oh, I do. I'll never forget. The irony of that last thought is not lost on me. I had given up hearing this kind of emotion from Buffy that day I walked away from her, after that final fight with the Mayor. I say the only words I can for now, not wanting to hurt her again, ignoring the screaming of my heart.

"Buffy, I…wow. You don't know what it means to hear you say that," I take her other hand in mine, press it gently to my lips. "We've been down this road, love. It can't lead anywhere but pain. God, I…I don't even remember most of what happened today. It's coming in flashes, but, can you fill me in?" I say, desperately trying to change the subject before my heart breaks again. I run a hand through my (crispy?) hair. Oh, how I hate fire.

Then.

Cordy calls, frantic.

"Angel…warehouse…babies everywhere…demons! Please help me! Off Doheny and 1st."

Scribbled address.

Leaping into my GTX, Fred and Wesley with me. Connor leaps in the moment we pull out.

Giant flames, licking the sky. Screaming Cordy's name through the smoke, we desperately search for her. There! In the corner. Held by both arms by some kind of horned things.

Around us, large nests of eggs seen hazily through smoke.

"Need the seer!" they yell as they drag her through the far door.

Vaulting after her, no regard for my own safety.

Falling, forever it seems.

Oh- wood punctures my legs, my chest. Missed the heart- phew. As I crash to the ground, looking up in time to see a fallen beam blazing with flame SMACK! me across the face, then-

Now.

"…and that's when Fred called me. We've been doing recon for a while, but no luck. The nest has been cleared, and absolutely no trace of Cordelia anywhere. Her cars' gone and everything." She obviously wants me to think she's done everything she can to find Cordy. "Gunn's looking into it as well. He's been by once, while you were asleep."

I sit up, feeling a lot more like myself. Suddenly Very Hungry, however. I watch Buffy as she talks, continuing to fill me in. My gaze is drawn to the small pulse in her throat, where I have fed only once before. Won't ever forget it, either. Nothing like blood given freely, selflessly, to save your sorry ass. I shudder slightly, and she breaks off in mid sentence.

"Angel, are you okay?" she touches my face. I jerk away, not wanting to hear the thump, thump, thump that's already too close…

"I…ah…I'm a little hungry. Could you get…" "I'll be right back," she jumps up, practically flying out the door. God, I hate to scare her.

She's only gone for a few moments, and returns with a plastic cup full of lunch. She hands it to me without saying anything, and sits back down in the chair vacated by Connor.

I try not to make slurping sounds, but boy does it taste…well, like microwaved pig's blood. But it's nourishment to me. So I suck it down quickly, trying not to gross out my former (current? Always?) love sitting at my side, and feel it spread through me like a small fire. I hand her the empty cup and she places it on the table.

"Better?" she smiles brightly. Oh, she's so brave for me. ('Still my girl?' 'Always.')

"Yes, thanks. I could actually probably get up now," and I try it. Swing my legs (hey, where are my pants?) over the edge of the bed. She's there to steady me, and though I don't need it much, it's nice to have her hand on my arm again. I stand, wavering slightly in my undershirt and boxers. Uh suddenly embarrassed here.

"It's okay, Angel. Not like I haven't seen it before," she quips, and blushes prettily. I put my arm over her shoulders for balance, and walk slowly to where my clothes (of the non-burned variety) wait for me. Her hands stay on my back as I pull on my black pants, and then help me button a shirt over my tank. Our hands graze accidentally as we both try to button the same button, and our gazes lock.

"Buffy," I say, and she puts one finger to my lips.

"I know it's been a while, Angel. I need this. Let me help you. I miss you. All the time. Seeing you like this, when you need me, I can pretend all the things we've said and done in the past didn't happen. Just let me-" she breaks off, and suddenly we're thisclose, and God help me, I kiss her.

Slowly at first, we get to know each other again. She does feel different, yet oh so the same. Soft, feathery touches on my lips make me feel some semblance of warmth again. I'm back in Sunnydale, and she's in my arms, in my bed, as we can't seem to stop.

'I love you. I try not to, but I can't stop.' 'Me too. I can't either.'

I do stop, pushing her away. She moans in anger, then opens her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I shouldn't have done that. It's not fair to you or me." I shake my head, gripping her arms.

"Angel, please. I know you're confused. Hell, I'm more than confused. But…there's never been anyone else for me but you. I try so hard to make you go away. The others, they're like ghosts flitting through my life compared to you. All I can see, all I can feel, is you. I thought when the hellmouth closed, when I could at last move on, I would find a way to finally forget you. I thought the years apart would help, but it just doesn't! This is what I want, what I've always wanted. I can't exist away from you! I know that now. It's too hard," she gasps out, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Oh God, what have I started? I know what she means, because in one way or another, I feel her absence every day, too. I have had other loves, other distractions. Yet she's right. We're mated. Promised. I don't know where in the hell I came up with the idea that I could give my soul to anyone else, because it was given a long time ago, to this beautiful, trembling woman facing me.

"Buffy, please don't cry. Please. Look, we'll do something. We'll work it out somehow. Just. Please. Don't. Cry." I beg her, feeling heat in my own eyes. I take her in my arms, and she presses her face to my neck, inhaling my scent as I do her own. I sit down on the bed, holding her still, feeling slightly woozy again. She still has slayer strength, and my ribs groan as she grips me. "uh, ow?" She leaps away from me, concerned. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I forget my self sometimes…you do that to me," she finished shyly. Still shy after all these years, and after all the moments we've had together. BANG! The door slams open. "Dad, you okay?" Connor enters unbidden, stopping as he sees me holding Buffy. He scowls, not understanding. "Why are you dressed? You should be in bed." "Connor, it's okay. I'm a fast healer, remember?" "Obviously," he says sarcastically. "Son," I say, with a slight tone to my voice, "Can you get the car? I'll meet you and the others in front." He frowns still. "If you're sure…" he says as he backs out of the room, watching Buffy all the while.

She sniffles, standing up. "I should probably be heading back home soon…unless you need me," she says, looking at me. God, don't look at me like that. I haven't seen that pleading look in so long. It tears at my heart, but I know I do want her here. We have so much to deal with, to say. And Cordy, we have to find her. Having a slayer around certainly wouldn't hurt.

"Actually, if you could stay awhile…I could use some help. We've got to find Cordy. I can't risk her being hurt," I tell her, watching as her expression of hope turns sour at the mention of the 'other woman.'

"Of course. I know she's a priority for you," she says, trying very hard to be fair. My heart leaps with the knowledge that she can still feel jealousy for me. Not very p.c. I know.

"I do need her. She's my link to the Powers. And she's a very important friend. I don't ever let my friends down, you know that," I tell her. "Except when they get in the way," she retorts, suddenly angry. "Except when you leave them." I had hoped she wouldn't say that. I wince, that old guilt from that deplorable decision rising in me. "You never got in the way, Buffy. Never. I told you before, I tried to give you what you deserved. A normal life. A chance to be in the light-" "Spare me, Angel. We've discussed this before. You know what? I'm a grown up now. I get to make my own decisions. I tried walking in the light, and guess what? There is no light. Not without you. It's taken me so many years and so many mistakes ('this isn't real, but I just want to feel…') to realize it, but I'm right. You and I are like one being, and when we're apart…it's like I can't breathe. Do you understand?" She stops, chest heaving, eyes blazing with that fire I remember so well. So grown up now. God, I do still love her so much. I cross the few feet between us and pull her small frame as close to me as I can without crushing her. Dropping a kiss on her forehead, I tilt her chin up to meet my eyes. "You know I understand. There's just so much, so much standing in our way. We have to think through this rationally, Buffy, and when it comes to us, I've never been able to be too rational. Give me time, love, please. I can't even see straight when you're around."

She gives me the biggest smile I've seen on her years. "Okay. Deal. But this is not over, Angel. We will resolve it one way or another," she states, taking my hands in her own.

"Yes, love. We will," I tell her, knowing in my heart that I have no clue what to do now.

We head for the exit, and to my waiting friends, hand in hand.

Three days later.

Buffy spins like a dervish, smacking the last demon into the wall, where it promptly explodes into green powder. We run to rip the gag and ties off Cordy, who is bound to the fireplace in the corner. She falls into my arms as I catch her. "Angel, I knew you'd come. I never doubted for a second," she whispers as I carry her outside to the waiting GTX, Buffy and Gunn following. Thank God for Buffy. I knew with her help we could resolve this quickly. I know no better tracker besides myself. I lay Cordy gently in the back seat of the car, and sit next to her. "Gunn. Drive." I say, and he does.

I watch my friend for signs of damage or broken bones. She seems whole physically if not mentally. I take her hand, kissing it. "You're alright, Cordy. Don't worry, we're here. Gunn, we close to the hospital yet?" "Yeah, man, just a few more blocks." He whips the GTX around a corner, making the car squeal like a pig. My slayer sits in the front, watching the exchange between Cordelia and I, trying hard to act disinterested. Like she could pull that off. God, I love her for it. I smile at her, trying to put all my love for her into that one expression. She softens, smiling back. I touch her face briefly, then we're there.

I leap out of the car as Gunn brings it to a stop in the emergency parking lot. "I need a doctor! This woman's been kidnapped, she needs medical attention." A trio of orderlies race out to the car, lifting Cordelia from the backseat and laying her on a gurney. "Don't worry, sir, we'll help her. What exactly happened?" I leave Gunn to deal with the details, as we follow the gurney into the hospital.

A few hours later, as Cordelia is resting peacefully, her every need taken care of, Buffy and I walk outside, just to get out of the hospital and away from the antiseptic smell. "Glad she's okay," Buffy says softly. "As many problems as Cordy and I had in high school, she helped me lots of times. In her own way, she was as much a part of my growing up as all of you were. I wouldn't want anything to happen to her." She turns toward me as we sit together on a bench near the emergency room parking lot, close enough to hear the screaming of arriving and departing ambulances.

"I know. And I appreciate your attitude and your help, Buffy. I don't know if we would have found her in time if you hadn't been here. I don't ever want to lose any of my friends…" I notice my hands shaking, as I think of the possible ways this situation could have ended. I love Cordy, I do, and there is nothing in the world that would keep me from helping her when she needs me. But as I look up into the face of my heart's true light, I know I don't love her like I do this one. This special face, with it's gentle smile just for me, is more precious to me than anything. We have had our share of heartbreak and trauma, and seen our share and more of the insides of hospitals. "Buffy," I start, "we have to talk." She nods her head. "But not here," I interrupt her. "I'll be right back. Wait for me." I sprint to the emergency room, looking for Gunn as Buffy watches me go, surprise etched on her features.

Finding him, I tell him to call me the minute anything changes, and that I will be back soon. He nods slightly, tough guy all the way. "Wesley and Fred are on their way here now, and Connor's already here, man. Everything is cool. We'll call if she asks for you," he promises. "Do that." I shake his hand, and turn around toward the exit, and toward one of the hardest conversations of my life. I dread it, yet long for it at the same time.

Later that night.

Buffy and I sit outside at Griffith park, staring at the huge full moon, seemingly hanging right over our heads. It's a beautiful night, and we both finally begin to relax after the long day of rescuing Cordelia finally behind us. I breathe a sigh of relief knowing that my best friend is in the best care she can possibly be in right now, and turn my thoughts to the woman in front of me. My other best friend, but so much more.

"Uh," we both start, then laugh. "You first," I say, trying to be polite. I don't know where this will lead, but I am willing to try. I owe her that much at least.

"I don't know what to say really. I told you how I feel back at the hospital, back when you were hurt," she starts, staring at her hands. They're shaking slightly, I notice. Against my better judgement, I pick one up, kiss her palm, then each of her fingers, trying to calm her racing heart. She closes her eyes, body gone rigid at my touch. I am beyond swayed that I can still garner this reaction in her. I pull her closer, kissing the inside of her wrist, paying attention to the flickering pulse there. I follow my way up her arm, 'til she is so close I can feel her breath on my face. She is still, her eyes closed, afraid to move, for fear I'll stop. "Angel," she whispers. I meet her gaze. "Don't do this if you don't mean it. I couldn't stand to be separated from you again. I told you, I've thought about this every day since the hellmouth closed. I know I've made mistakes. Riley, god, Spike. All trying to forget you, when there's no way I ever could. I would do anything for you, anything. I would die for you…" she says softly, placing her small hands on my face. My soul weeps at her words, words I have been dying to hear for so long. Yet a little voice in the back of head reminds me of so many things, not the least of which is the curse which still plagues me. "Buffy, I…I love you so much. There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of you in some way. Yet I can't expect you to wait around for me. We can't have a normal relationship. As much as we love each other, there are things that you'll end up wanting, needing, that I just can't give you. I wasn't being cruel to you when I told you you deserve someone who can take you into the light. You need a man who can make love to you, who can take you on daylight picnics and to the zoo, to places other than stinky sewer tunnels-" She smacks me across the face, sobbing suddenly. I'm stricken dumb.

"We've already had this conversation, Angel! I told you I don't care about any of that, and I wasn't kidding. I'll never have a normal life, even though I'm not the only slayer any more. I can't live without you. People live together all the time without sex. I don't care about that. Just being able to smell you, to feel your arms around me every day, makes it worth it. Don't you know that? Don't you understand that by now?" She is pleading with me, and my God, I want it. I want what she is offering. Can I be with her, without being with her? I quiet her ranting with a kiss, and she melts into my arms with no questions. We explore each other again, and it's like I've gone home finally. I run my hands up her back, through her hair, and she moans into my mouth, which may be the most erotic sound I've ever heard. She grabs me roughly by my shirtfront, and yanks me closer to her, crushing my lips with hers. I pull away, panting. She looks at me, eyes blurry with desire and passion.

"Can you do this, really? Can you be with me like this without following through? Think about it, Buffy. I don't honestly know if I can. But I am willing to try. Do you want to go down this road again? It could end in heartbreak for us both, a second time," I say before I know consciously what my final decision is. I realize she made it for the both us the moment she came to my hospital room after so many years. I realize we should never have been apart from the moment she first took my hand in hers, from the moment she splattered Cordy's kidnappers against the wall. My beautiful slayer, my heart's home. We have to try. I don't know if we can last, but we have to try.

"Yes." She says simply, no other words needed. "Yes, Angel."

I touch her face gently, and she leans her cheek into my hand. Sighing gently, she brings her own hand to my face, tracing the lines of my brow, my nose, my lips. I catch her hand in mine, and pull her to me, winding her arms around my neck. We just stare at each other for a few moments, drinking each other in. "I love you," we say simultaneously. I embrace her at last, engulfing myself in her essence. It's been so long, so long since I felt this. I've had dozens of lovers, dozens of companions. Yet none of them ever made me feel like this one does. One night of love, that's all we ever had, maybe all we'll ever have. Yet that one night means more to me than the hundred years I spent with Darla, the years I spent in Europe, even more than the precious time spent as a mortal with my family in Galway. I praise whatever gods or powers placed her in my path. I know that I would die without her, too.

"Angel," she murmurs, "look at me." I obey. She has something in her hand, puts it in mine. Oh…it's the claddagh ring I gave her on That Night. Our one night. I find myself near tears, and notice she is too. "Put it on me. Please." I slide it on her finger, tears finally breaking from my eyes and falling onto her outstretched hand. I kiss the spot where my gift graces her finger. I then surprise her by digging deep into my coat pocket, fumbling with the small round object I have carried with me since the day I met her. I hand her my ring, a match with her own. She cries now, too, and places it gently on my finger, kissing the spot like I did hers. "You kept it." She says, astounded. "Forever. I never took it out of my pocket. Despite all my experiences, all my doubts, I really believed that you and I would have reason to use these again," I tell her, and realize it's true.

My confusion of the past few months falls away silently. I know now that I did love Cordy, in my way. Yet she was always a replacement for the one thing I knew I couldn't have again, couldn't hope to have again. God, I have so much to atone for with her. She'll understand, I know she will. We know each other so well, there's no way that she won't.

Buffy leans against me, and we lay back against the giant oak behind us. I cradle my love in my arms, so secure, so right at last. She sighs, a sweet breath passing my face. I run my hand up and down her back, soothing her, calming her finally. We are where we belong. Together. One. Forever. God, I hope. The moon shines above us, seeming to bless our union in it's light. The oak blows slowly in the late night breeze, as my love and I contemplate our future, and dream of one another, together, forever joined. As she falls gently into light sleep, I watch in wonder at the sight that is Buffy, slayer of my soul.

God bless us. Please.