What Might Have Hppened After the End

by Semby

A series of phone calls and a journey. BA, post finale.

Title: What Might Have Happened After the End
(Yes, I know, wickedly creative title. I'm open to suggestions.)
Author: Semby
Summary: A series of phone calls and a journey.
A/N: This was actually first written as an early attempt for a ficathon, but I decided last minute that it wasn't ready/good enough, and churned out the one I actually used instead ("Wait and See"). So this has the same basic elements as WaS - post-NFA B/A, including Spike and Dawn, with no character bashing or death. But it's a different story! Really! And I've just got around to editing it.
One more A/N: Even though I'm doing that wonderfully confusing switching back and forth between past and present thing that I like to do so much, I hope it's clear that all of the phone call scenes actually occurred before the Rome scenes.
Disclaimer: I'm just a lowly non-owning fanfic writer.
Thanks to: Garnigal for the beta (and a piece of Spike's dialogue which was completely re-written by her because she kicks butt at writing Spike-voice way more than I do.)

She called six days after the battle.

He only managed to get out "Hell-" before she cut him off, sounding frantic, tearful and angry.

"You stupid ass! So I take it you're alive then? And you didn't think that I maybe deserved a phone call to be told that? And speaking of you not calling, did it not occur to you that it might have been a good idea for you to call me for backup before you went into the biggest battle of your life? I mean, I thought you'd consider me pretty decent help all on my own, and that's not taking into consideration the army of slayers I could provide-"

"Buffy!" he interrupted.

"What?" she nearly shrieked, still angry and on a roll.

"It's good to hear from you, too."

"Oh, don't think you're getting off the hook with small talk. You must have known I'd hear about what went down. You must have known I'd be worried! How could you not have contacted me yet?"

"I'm sorry, I really am. I've been… otherwise occupied. The aftermath of the battle has been pretty crazy… we were all injured badly enough to be out of commission for awhile. That and worrying about Gunn who's just barely hanging on in intensive care…"

"I'm sorry," she responded, sounding calmer, sobered. "Is he going to be okay?"

"We don't know yet." He added, quieter, "We're pretty worried."

"And the rest of you? How bad are your injuries?"

He adjusted uncomfortably in his chair, the slight movement intensifying the pain still spread throughout his body. "Spike, Illyria and I all heal well enough that we'll be fine… in time."

"Promise?" she asked timidly, unsurely, her worry bigger than her pride. Now was not the time to ask who Illyria was or to mention that she'd been pissed to hear from Andrew and not from him that Spike was back in the first place.

"Yes. I promise."

"Should I come to LA? I could help you take care of things that still need to be wrapped up, things you can't do yourself. And I could help… I could help you get better."

"No, I don't think that's necessary. The worst is over, and there's not too much more that can be done. You don't need to come all this way."

"But I want… I'd like to see you. I want to talk, face to face."

He paused, thought it over. "I could come and see you once things have calmed down a bit… I'd just rather you not have to deal with any of this; it's my baggage."

"Really? You'll come here?"

"As soon as I can."

xxxxx

Angel walked along the street Buffy lived on, eager to arrive at her apartment and see her. He'd only arrived in Rome an hour ago but didn't see the point in wasting time.

He didn't have to wait until he reached her door to see her, however. All of a sudden he noticed her walking down the street towards him. She hadn't seen him yet, and he slipped into the shadows. She wasn't alone.

The man she was with wasn't The Immortal. He was someone new, but he was definitely a date. The way she was dressed, the perfume she was wearing, the way she styled her hair, did her make-up, all looked well thought out and chosen, and if that wasn't enough evidence, there was also the way she tilted her head and gave that so familiar flirty little smile and carried a single red rose that was obviously a gift from her companion.

The couple walked right by him, not seeing him where he was hidden. But after they passed Buffy self-consciously moved a hand to the back of her neck, as if to soothe a tingle, a tingle she must have been feeling because he was feeling it too - just like he always did when he was near her. She glanced curiously over her shoulder but didn't seem to pick him out. Sensed him, certainly, always, but couldn't see him. She turned back to laugh at something her date had said and kept walking until she was out of sight.

xxxxx

He called her seventeen days after the battle.

"Are you coming to Rome yet?" she asked, sounding more eager than she wanted to.

"No… it's not… I'm not quite ready yet, I'm sorry. I just wanted to talk."

"Oh."

"How have you been?"

"Mostly? Worried about you. How have you been?"

"Tired. Anxious. Sore. I actually called to talk about what's going on with you to get my mind off things. You're a nice distraction."

"So what you're saying is, 'please, make with the chatty so I don't have to talk about any of my problems because if I talk them out I can't brood about them later'?"

"Uh, if that's how you'd like to interpret it. Please, make with the chatty."

She sighed. "I live to serve. But I will make you talk someday. When you finally show up here, you're not going to be able to keep things from me."

"I'm aware. I'll be ready."

xxxxx

Angel had stayed in his hiding spot for awhile after she'd gone, wondering where to go now, what to do. Wondering if he'd come all this way for nothing. Wondering if Buffy had kept asking when he was coming just so she'd have enough notice to hide her latest love interest before his arrival.

He'd been stupid. After their phone conversations, after her worry, her anxiousness to see him he'd thought… He'd thought she'd been thinking about him - maybe in that way, again, after so long. But it wasn't a stupid assumption, was it? She had been thinking of him, she had been calling him, she had been wanting to see him.

He finally emerged from the shadows and unconsciously continued the journey towards the place she now called home, even though he knew she wouldn't be there when he arrived. As he walked he wondered why, after that first phone call, he had been compelled to call her back. Why had he told her he'd come to see her in the first place? Why hadn't he just told her, that first time she called, that just as there was no need for her to come to LA, there was no need for him to come to Rome either? Why had he continued hoping and dancing in circles with her, the girl who was now on a date with another man – another other man, the fourth, fifth, sixth? man she'd been with since he'd left – while he hadn't even bothered to call Nina once? Nina, who was very likely still waiting for him?

He found himself standing in front of her building, unsure what he was doing there now and what he should do next, when a voice drifted down from a window above. "Angel! Hi."

He looked up and gave a small wave to Dawn.

xxxxx

She called him twenty-two days after the battle.

She aimed for cool, casual conversation. She asked, "What's up?"

He kept the conversation casual, not discussing anything in particular that was happening in his life. "I just finished reading The Odyssey again. It felt longer this time."

"I don't suppose it would shock you to hear I've never read that one."

"Not really, but you should give it a try. Or any of the classics, really."

"Right. Uh huh! I'll get on that," she responded sarcastically.

"So what have you been up to lately?"

"Ugh," she sighed. "I've been training these two slayers we've just found in the area. One is such a natural, and so eager to improve, but the other… God, she's such a pain. She has so much potential but insists on rebelling against every single thing I want her to do. She doesn't want to learn! It's not like I want to take away her other life, but all she wants to do is date, shop, go to school…"

"And you would have no idea what it's like to have that compulsion," he teased.

"Yeah, yeah. I know I went through my 'I wanna be a normal kid' phase, but I was the only one and I had to do this anyway. We're not forcing any slayers who don't really want to train; we've got plenty already. But she entered training willingly so I don't understand what her problem is, other than wanting to be a royal pain in my ass."

"Just hope she doesn't start getting ridiculous piercings, tattoos and a big, mean boyfriend."

"I'm not her mother, I don't care about that stuff."

"Oh, really? You're not the least bit protective of these girls?"

"No! Well, not that aspect of their lives anyway. It's my responsibility to keep them alive, but their social lives are none of my business. Now Dawn's big, mean boyfriend, however…"

"Oh no! Dawn wouldn't fall for some big, mean guy, would she?"

"Okay, so he's not that big, or particularly mean. But he's still not good enough for her and I hate him. Hate him lots. And if he makes one wrong move, I'll have his head."

He grinned. "That's my girl."

xxxxx

"So I hear you've got yourself a loser boyfriend."

"No! She told you that? I can't believe her!" Dawn fumed. "He's a really nice guy, and he's smart, and attractive, and he speaks four languages fluently."

"Only four?" Angel smirked.

"And he's good to me. He treats me like a lady. She just has a problem with him because she can't stand me being happy and in love when she's not."

"You know that's not true," he frowned. "She just doesn't like seeing you grow up so fast. You should invite him around more, let her get to know him and see what's good about him."

"You know, I think over the years I've learned that it's best to keep the nice, normal people as far away from my home life as possible, but I'll think about it." She paused, looked at him intently for a moment, and then asked, "So you just arrived, right?"

He blinked, surprised. "How did you know that?"

"Because Spike told me when you left."

"You talked to Spike? Why were you talking to Spike?"

Dawn shrugged, obviously not thinking it was a big deal. "We've been calling each other for awhile now. It's nice to keep in touch, you know? Just talk about what's been going on in our lives."

"Have you been calling each other as long as Buffy and I have been calling each other? Since he and I fought in that battle?" he asked curiously. Spike had never mentioned that he'd been talking to Dawn.

"Oh, way longer than that," she answered. "I called Spike right after Andrew let it slip that he was alive again, to yell at him that he was a jackass for keeping it from us. You know Spike, he said all the right things to calm me down, and we've kept in touch ever since then. He was talking about visiting too… before the battle."

"Has he told you how he's been doing since then?"

"No. He has too much damn pride. He said everyone got hurt, but he hasn't… how bad is he? It's bad, isn't it?"

"It's not…"

"Please, Angel," she frowned. "I don't want to be lied to anymore."

He sighed and nodded. "He's in a wheelchair again. With vamp healing I'm sure he'll eventually walk again, but right now… his lower half is pretty destroyed."

Dawn took a shuddering breath, and took a long moment to take that in. She looked at him again. "Your leg's messed up too. You were limping."

"I'm sure that'll get better eventually, too."

She nodded thoughtfully. There was a long pause before she jumped up from her seat. "Um… well, I'm actually going to a show with my boyfriend in a little while, so I have to go get ready. You're welcome to stick around, and-"

"Oh no," he stopped her, and began to stand. "I'll just go."

"No, that's silly. You came to see Buffy, right? She'll be home in a little - later."

"Do you really think it'd be a good idea for me to be here when she gets back?" His tone was more bitter than he wanted it to be.

"Why not?" Dawn asked. "Oh… because she's on a date?"

He gave her a look.

"Oh, come on, Angel. You can't possibly think… He's just some guy. Just some nice, normal, average guy who she said yes to because she's bored and didn't have a good enough reason not to. He's not going to light any sort of spark with her, and he's not going to last. I can promise you she's not inviting him back here tonight."

"If it's all the same… I think I'd rather not stick around tonight. I'll come back, though. I mean, I did come all this way to talk." He headed for the door, not accepting her protests. "It was nice seeing you again, Dawn."

"Yeah, you too."

xxxxx

She called him thirty-five days after the battle.

"Why haven't you called?" she began, sounding upset. "It was your turn. I called you first, then you called me, then I called again, and it was your turn again. I've still been worrying, you know! What if you were still really badly injured and you ran into a demon and were too hurt to defend yourself? How was I supposed to know?"

"Buffy, I'm fine. I'm sorry I haven't called. I didn't know it was my turn; I didn't realize that we'd established a routine already. Actually, the thing is, Gunn took a turn for the worse for a little bit there… we've all been pretty preoccupied."

"Oh, God. I'm sorry. I should have thought… Is he going to be okay?"

"We still don't know. He's stabilized and looking better now, but… It's one of those things where the longer he stays unconscious, the less chance he has of ever waking up, but we're still hoping. Actually, it's almost visiting hours now; I was heading out the door when you called. Can we talk later?"

"Sure… I hope everything goes okay… It's definitely your turn next though, all right?"

"Right. I won't forget."

xxxxx

So maybe he hadn't gone very far after he left her apartment. He wasn't lurking, or even brooding. He just happened to crave a cup of coffee from the café that happened to be across the street from her apartment building, and once he finished his cup he was comfortable enough that he just felt like staying there for a couple of hours. Reading a newspaper and not anxiously watching the street for her return.

Angel had noticed Dawn leaving with a boy who didn't look like a bad guy, but who was too actively putting his paws on the girl he himself couldn't help but still see as the eleven-year-old he remembered. He'd have to talk to Buffy about definitely continuing to keep an eye on them.

He was kicking himself for sticking around and putting himself through the agony of waiting and potentially seeing her coming home with her date, potentially inviting the guy up… He was just about ready to give up and head back to his hotel, but then he saw her. She was approaching her building with her date, still smiling at him, still holding that damn rose.

Glutton for punishment, rather than turning back to his newspaper and pretending he couldn't see them, he watched attentively as they ended their date.

xxxxx

He called her forty days after the battle.

"It's my turn; I remembered."

"Way to go; you get a gold star!" she responded brightly. She didn't waste any time, however, and immediately moved on to interrogate him about a matter he'd been putting off. "I don't suppose you've given any more thought to when you're going to-"

"Buffy, I'm going to come and see you as soon as my leg is healed."

It was the first time he'd mentioned any specific injuries, and the first time he'd given any indication to how long it would take for him to come. He didn't, however, specify how long it would take for his leg to heal, and in her excitement in being told anything at all, she didn't think to ask.

xxxxx

They had been talking for several minutes before they shared the kiss. It was a quick kiss, though, friendly, not passionate, and then her date walked away. What Angel didn't like, however, was the way she continued to watch the guy as he walked away, instead of immediately turning around and going upstairs to her apartment. Her actively watching him until he was out of sight, giving a little wave as he glanced over his shoulder and smiled before continuing on, made Angel doubt what Dawn had said about her date being "just some guy," and made him doubt that the kiss he'd just seen was as meaningless as it looked. When the man was out of sight, she still didn't turn around and head up to her apartment. Instead, she turned and headed… towards the café.

She obviously knew he was there, as she did before, and was coming to confront him. He quickly exited the coffee shop, unsure whether this was a confrontation he'd want to have in front of the several strangers in there, especially if she had a pretty good idea that he'd been watching her more than once this evening.

As he expected, she didn't look surprised to see him as he came out, and they met in the middle of the street which was thankfully quiet and empty. They regarded each other quietly for a moment. He risked offering a smile, but she didn't return it as she continued to look over him. It took him a moment to realize that the expression on her face wasn't annoyance; it was concern, likely at her observation of his limp and the evidence that remained of other injuries from the battle.

"Hi," she greeted at last.

"Hi."

She then wordlessly motioned him to follow her, and they headed back to her apartment.

xxxxx

She called him forty-seven days after the battle. It was her turn again.

The machine picked up, and she greeted, "Hey! Me again. It wasn't anything important, just the usual, just calling to check in or to chat about-"

She was cut off when the receiver on the other end was picked up. "Buffy? That you, love?" Spike's voice carried through the phone.

"Spike," she greeted, not as warmly as he was probably hoping but not sounding unfriendly. "How have you been?"

"Well, you know, recovering from all the aches and pains one suffers after saving the world - again. I'll be all right, though. I'm a fighter."

"Right," she replied, rolling her eyes at his still-present cockiness yet secretly glad to hear his voice and know that he was okay. "I'm glad to hear you're recovering. I was actually calling to talk to Angel, though; is he there?"

"No, pet, I'm afraid you won't be getting a hold of him through this number for awhile. He's gone out of town."

"Really?" she asked, confused. "I'm surprised he didn't let me know… Where's he gone and for how long?"

"Couldn't tell you that one, love. He was very quiet about it all. I'm sure he'll contact you at some point, probably when he gets back."

"I guess…"

"So has he told you everything that happened yet?"

"Not so much, no. You know him; he's Mr. Quiet Broody Guy. I take it you're willing to fill me in?"

"You know I am. So we'd taken out the Black Thorn, this group of Big Bads, and yours truly saved a wee little baby on the way. We meet in the alley, knowing that they're going to throw everything they've got left at us. Sure enough, out come all the biggest, most fearsome monsters you've ever seen, including this huge dragon…"

xxxxx

They had been sitting side by side on her couch silently for nearly a whole minute when Angel felt Buffy turn to him and begin studying him intently. He turned and met her gaze, wondering if he was supposed to speak first.

"Hi," she whispered, her face a mask of calm but unable to disguise the sadness behind her eyes.

"You said that already," Angel pointed out. "Outside."

"You were around earlier tonight," she said flatly. She didn't sound accusing or even curious for an explanation. She was stating a fact. He merely nodded. "I don't want to talk about that, though."

"Neither do I," he responded. He had no interest in discussing her date, even if all evidence pointed to him not being a threat.

After another moment of uncomfortable silence and staring, Buffy let out a little gasping sound that wasn't quite a sob, and pressed a hand to his cheek. She blurted out, "You're really here… God, you have no idea – no idea – how much… In those six days between the battle and the first time we spoke, I was so sure I'd never see you again. I thought there was no way you could have survived."

Angel was torn between not wanting to turn his face for fear of losing her touch and wanting to look away so she couldn't read the lie in his eyes as he started to say, "It wasn't that ba-"

"Angel, I heard the stories," she argued, removing her hand anyway. "I saw the news footage. The fact that you survived that was a miracle." She seemed fidgety now, uncomfortable, and she started to get up from her seat before he recaptured the hand he'd just lost with his own and pulled her back down to the couch. He was going to reassure her that despite her earlier fears, everything was okay now, but she cut him off again. "You don't know what it meant, what a relief it was, to hear your voice that day. And even after… you don't know what it means to see you here now. I know I told you I wasn't ready, I know I'm supposed to be taking my time, but the fact that something might have happened to you, the fact that you might not be there when I'm done-"

"Shh," he soothed, pulling her into a hug. She was more than fidgety now; she was shaking. "I am here, it all turned out okay."

"You don't know what it was like to think…" She pulled back a bit from the hug to meet his eyes but kept a tight grip on his shoulders. Tears had started falling down her cheeks. "You're not supposed to die first! You're the immortal one, remember? You're supposed to be prepared for the day I die, not the other way around! You- I-" She broke off.

Angel had come to Rome knowing that she wanted to talk things out with him, but after the casual nature of their phone calls, he hadn't expected that her grief at the very idea of his death would be such a strong factor in their conversation. The first time they'd talked, she'd sounded somewhat worried but mostly angry that he hadn't contacted her. He'd had no idea she'd been feeling so pained and anxious. He'd maybe expected tears for a reunion after the past year of minimal contact and lacking trust, but not like this. He hugged her to him again, whispering soothing words to remind her that he hadn't been killed and that he was right there with her. After a moment she seemed to get a hold of herself; her sniffles quieted and she pulled back to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I haven't- I haven't broken down like that in so long. I wanted to cry when I first heard about the battle, when I thought… but I held it in because Dawnie was there and I didn't want her to worry, and then even when I knew you were okay I still felt the same inside, and I-"

"It's okay," he murmured, rubbing her shoulder gently. "You don't have to apologize for being upset in front of me, Buffy. I know you want to stay strong all the time, but you don't have to be. I'm sorry I scared you so much. I'm sorry I didn't call right away; I shouldn't have let you worry."

"You really shouldn't have, you big dope," she responded, smiling now.

He smiled back. "Okay?"

"Yep, it's okay. We're all okay." She reached up to rest a hand on his which was still comfortingly rubbing her shoulder. She touched his face again and repeated, "You're here."

They lasted only a moment like that, smiling softly at each other with hands gently touching, and then the moment passed and instead of pulling apart or looking away they drew closer. Their lips touched lightly, cautiously, and their arms wrapped hesitantly but more tightly around each other. Buffy sighed against his lips at the contact, and the moment her lips parted he took the opportunity to get closer, deeper. His mind instantly turned hazy at the feelings her touch invoked and the reminder of the hundreds of kisses they'd shared before, sensations that were familiar and yet always new. Her touch made him want to forget everything they'd been through, every reason they shouldn't be doing this, and he only came back into a vague awareness of where he was and what he was doing to realize that he'd lowered her to lie back on the couch and was lying flush on top of her, both sets of hands exploring the other's body. His consciousness and sensibility somehow broke through and his lips stilled where they were pressed against her neck. He pulled away to look her in the eyes.

She looked back at him and he saw his own desire and confusion reflected in her eyes, but he also saw the sadness and recognition of the doubt that was obviously exposed through his own eyes. He began to question, "Do you-" and she looked away, tacitly accepting that the moment had passed.

He reluctantly sat up and she followed, putting more distance between them than there'd been before. "Dangerous territory," Buffy said, with a tight smile.

"Right," Angel replied, pulling further away to maintain control. "That probably isn't the best idea. I mean, you're still- you're still baking."

Buffy nodded slowly, an unreadable expression on her face. "Yeah. I am. And you're still…"

"Cursed."

"Yeah."

They paused awkwardly for a moment, neither knowing where to look, where to sit, where to put their hands. "It's just…" Buffy began. "I just experienced what it feels like to think I might have lost you, I know now that I could lose you someday and I don't know if it's really worth - worth not reaching out for what would make me happy. Make us happy." She looked at him nervously and more than a little hopefully.

"You know that's what I would prefer – to reach. But we… there's still so many complications. I think it is worth reaching, but it's also worth it to wait until we both know it's our time. If you need time, and I think you do, I've already told you I'll wait. I'm still not getting any older."

"But I still am." She sighed and reduced some of the distance they'd created after their kiss, taking his hand again. "I'm not going to be here forever, Angel. And you might not be either. This might be all we get."

He pulled his hand away again, got up from the couch and began pacing before he realized how painful it was on his leg, so he just stood awkwardly. "Maybe this is all we get. Maybe, despite all our fighting, the greater good doesn't make exceptions for people like us. Maybe we don't get the happy ending. But what can we do about it? I'm still cursed. Perfect happiness seems highly unlikely for me after everything that's happened - even with you, but if there's even a chance that I might lose my soul again, is it really worth the risk? And we're two different people fighting our own battles. We've been apart for so long now that I don't even know if we know each other anymore. How could we just step back into-"

"Please, stop," she whispered harshly. "I've been read that particular warning label enough times. And I still think it's shit. I've had plenty of experience of love and pain with you, and plenty of settling for second best without you. I think I know well enough by now that I prefer being out of my mind in love to feeling empty, despite the risks and occasional misunderstandings and heartache. And I know we wouldn't have it easy, and I know we can't know that you'll get your Shu-shan thingy in my lifetime, but-"

"Shanshu," he corrected, sitting back on the couch. "And I'm definitely not going to get it in your lifetime. Or at all. Not now."

Her face crinkled up, confused. "What do you mean? Maybe you've kind of lost your way in the past year, working for Evil Inc. and everything, but you're still the same person after it all and you can still earn redemption. You can't give up hope. If you don't believe in it, you'll stop fighting for it and then you'll definitely never get it. The world needs you to fight, Angel."

"I signed it away," he confessed, looking away from her startled expression. "In blood. I had to- to infiltrate the order of the Black Thorn… It's a long and complicated story, but all it really means is that it's not mine to earn anymore."

"But- but you-" She stumbled over the words, unable to comprehend his enormous sacrifice. "How can you 'sign away' your destiny, anyway? That's just paper. You can't give up your destiny; it's destined! If it was ever meant to happen, it still will."

"It's more complicated than that. The original prophecy was just paper too, you know. And we don't even know now if it was meant for me anyway; it could still be Spike. He hasn't signed anything away."

"How can you doubt that it was meant for you? Angel, you first told me about that prophecy long before Spike got his soul. I already knew about it when he came back, and yes, the thought crossed my mind… but then I realized it was idiotic to even consider that it could be about anybody but you. Spike fought for his soul; good for him. He already got what he wanted. You didn't have a choice in getting your soul, and yet you've done good with it anyway. There was a reason you were cursed with a soul, there was reason you were sent to me, a reason you moved on to LA to keep fighting, and there was definitely a reason for you to find that prophecy back before there was any doubt that it was about you."

"Buffy, we always knew Shanshu was a hazy, distant subject. It seems even less likely now, and to be honest, I'm not sure I ever really believed in it. But whether it's my destiny or not, you're right, it still might not happen in your lifetime and we can't base decisions on the fact that it's a vague possibility. If we tried to make a future together, we'd have to expect the future to include me as the same cursed vampire I've always been. And we'd mostly likely still find ourselves having the same problems."

"You don't know that," Buffy insisted, returning her hand to his shoulder. "It's been a long time since Willow tried finding a way to fix your curse, and she's way more powerful and experienced now. Maybe if I told her to look into it again, she could find a way. And yeah, over the years we've both changed and grown, maybe grown apart, but who says that's a bad thing? Maybe the people we are now would work better together than we ever did. We'll never know unless we try."

He pulled away from her again, "You know, I've had a lot of time to realize that maybe it wasn't fair of me to leave you so you could have a normal life. I should have known that as the slayer that would never be a possibility for you, and me hoping that you could find it wasn't enough for it to come true. Now, though… Now, it's not such a far-off hope that you could get a normal life. You're not the only one anymore. There are so many things you could do now that you don't have that responsibility on your shoulders. You can be a regular girl now. But me? …I'm always going to be a freak."

"You know, that was the first thing we talked about after Sunnydale. And I'll admit, at first the idea of being just one out of many instead of being the only one, or of the only two, was pretty cool. I couldn't wait to decide what to do with myself next. And then I moved on, and I was here for awhile before I realized… It's just not in me to be a normal girl and let the others go out and do the fighting. I can't help myself from roaming the streets at night, from keeping an eye out for a fight. Even with a normal life ready and waiting for me, I want to be the slayer. It's who I am; it's what's in me. What I want to do next is the same thing I've always done." She paused, then smiled and brushed a hand over his neck. "And you're not a freak. You never were."

"Says you," he retorted, but it came out sounding more teasing than self-deprecating. He turned his head to press a gentle kiss to the pulse point on her wrist. "You still have a chance to do anything you want."

"I want you!" she argued, wondering how much more she was going to have to push the point until he got it. "I don't want you to be half-way around the world, me to be wondering if you're in trouble and if I'll ever see you again. I can't deal with that feeling again. I need you to be here. Or me to be there, I don't care. I just need to be near you."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I promise I'll never let you feel that way again."

"I don't just mean staying in touch, though," she insisted. "I want us to really try to be in each other's lives, and try to make us work if we can. We've done enough of just ignoring our feelings because we think it'd be too hard to stay together."

He bit his lip thoughtfully. "I want to try, I really do; you know that, but-"

She pressed a finger to his mouth to shush him. "If you want to try, then try. I don't accept 'buts'. I've heard all the 'buts' too many times. You'll never be able to give me a good enough reason."

He stayed quiet for a long moment, looking into her eyes. "Okay," he answered. "Okay, we can try. But you know it's going to take a lot of patience and work, and…" He trailed off as she pulled him into a tight hug. "Were you always this pushy?" he teased.

"Yes," she grinned. "And you better get used to it again. And I know it'll take work. I really, really know. But we're strong people; we can handle it."

Just as the hug was about to turn back into kisses, Dawn reentered the apartment. "So you worked things out, then?"

"Yes, we did," Buffy answered, putting a little respectable distance between herself and Angel. "We still have some details to work out, but… things are promising."

"Good!" Dawn responded. "It's about time. I'm going to hit the sack, leave you to work out your details. Where are you staying, Angel?"

Angel opened his mouth to name his hotel, but then hesitated and turned to Buffy questioningly. "Here," she answered for him. "He'll be staying here. For quite some time."