Alright, sorry - for those who are reading this - about the long space with no updates. No excuse - besides, you know. My many excuses. Such as sick, homework, grounded, and the best on of all, lazy! Really, sorry. But, this is a remarkably long chapter, for me, anyway... So gotta give me some credit for that, right? No, I suppose you don't. But you should.

Anyway, I should probably set up my background here. Buffy's in LA. Angel half-accepted the job offer at the end of season four, he still works from his hotel. Cordelia... Gone earlier than she was in the TV series. (Didn't I mention, I'm on season five now!) So... I think that's all. If I have any other 'authors personal perfect alternate universe' updates, I'll put them in an authors note. Right. So read on!

*K

"Spike…" the soft sigh came from her lips, and a small smile crept onto her face. She stepped closer, ran her hands through his hair as he stared at her lovingly. "Buffy," he whispered as he brought his face to hers in a soft, sweet kiss. She closed her eyes, felt the cool of his lips on the warmth of hers, until suddenly they were both on fire.

Literally.

She willed herself to wake up, wake up, wake up. But she couldn't. She was forced to stand there, watching, as tears ran down her face and she watched him burn to a crisp. Become dust. "I love you," she said through her sobs as he disappeared.

The loud beeeeeeeeeep of the alarm woke her up, cutting off her dream too late to spare her pain, but she was still grateful for the untimely end. She couldn't bear another second of reliving one of the worst moments of her life. Rolling over, she hit the off button and gazed at the clock, brain moving too slowly to figure out what it said. Staring at it wasn't helping though, so she blinked and looked again, at long last seeing the numbers 7:03. She rolled back over, still in the half-dream state between sleep and full awareness. She didn't want to return to her dream, but she wasn't ready to face her friends, the sun. Already she felt it was going to be a bad day.

A hard rap on her door backed up that theory.

"Buffy?" a voice called softly through the thin wood. Even half asleep, she recognized that voice.

"Yeah, Angel?" she replied in a sigh. "Come on in," she invited, sitting up and resting her head on the wall. The door creaked open slowly, and the brooding vampire in black practically tiptoed in. That's saying something, considering he was totally silent walking normally – this way he made no more impact than a butterfly.

"Buffy, I, uh… Good morning," he gave a small chuckle. "I'm sorry, I just – this is, you know. Late. For you. I was just wondering if anything was… well, wrong."

Yes, Angel. Everything's wrong. I'm dealing, and I know I should be happy to have you back after four years. But I can't help myself – I miss him. Sure, I loved you, but he… I was close to him in a way I'd never been close to anyone. And it was the same for him. "No, nothing's wrong. Isn't a girl allowed to catch up on her beauty sleep after saving the world?" she laughed, forcing a smile.

He noticed it wasn't wholehearted, but didn't mention it. Instead, he laughed with her. "Of course, Buffy. But you know you don't need it."

"Angel, I know I like horrible… I haven't really slept in months… But hey, thanks for saying it. Like they say – it's the thought that counts."

They smiled at each other for another moment, then he broke the silence with "Well, we're all waiting for you downstairs. So we can save the world. Like we do."

"Oh, right. I'll see you down there, then…" And as suddenly as he had come, he was gone, the door to her hotel room closed again.

Padding down the stairs in bare feet, the smell of pancakes wafted up to her nose and she breathed it in. Most food was both a sweet and sour experience now. For example, the aroma she was smelling now was delicious and all, but it reminded her of her mother. Her dead mother.

It wasn't just food, either. After Sunnydale… She was dealing, sure. But every thought, every activity, was tainted with memories of the dead. Hiding it was easy enough – she'd been doing it for eight years. Not only her feelings, but also her memories. Almost everything was a secret since she became the slayer. And now… She wasn't the slayer. She was a slayer. And she supposed that entailed not being quite as special anymore.

God, I've been spending too much time around Angel… she thought. I'm starting to brood like him, too. Spike would be so disa -

Her thoughts were, thankfully, cut off by Xander. "Hey, Buffy! Finally up, I see?" he grinned at her, and she smiled back. Xander was one of the only ones who could really make her feel happy, like nothing had changed since she first moved to Sunnydale. That is, if she didn't look at him. One look reminded her of her final year there – and, actually, the town's final year too. Nothing like being built on a Hellmouth to cut your existence short.

"Hey, Xander. So, what's for breakfast?" She inhaled a deep breath, and put out a finger to stop his answering. "Wait, wait, don't tell me. Pancakes… Eggs… Toast… Bacon… Jeez, Xand, do we have a buffet going on down here?" She laughed.

He mirrored her merriment with his own. "Well, Buff, it is a hotel…"

The whole gang, plus some, had been staying at Angel's hotel, the Hyperion, since Sunnydale had been destroyed. It was plenty roomy, big enough for most to have a room to themselves. It was just a bit weird, being able to call a hotel your home. At least, for those who considered it more than a place to stay at night.

She grinned at him, shook her head. "An out of service hotel, Xander. Nobody here pays to stay. Though really, Angel should start charging rent…"

"Speak of the devil," Angel himself appeared, leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. "And… You're right. I should. But, what with helping the helpless and all – that being, by the way, you – I just can't bring myself to do it." He shook his head as though in disgust with himself.

Buffy gave a light laugh, and tripped down the remainder of the steps. "Well, that's good… I couldn't pay you if you did. Now, really, I'm hungry. Let's see if everyone left us anything for breakfast."

The blonde vampire sat in the sky above it all, watching his love live as though on one of his soap operas. Actually, he had the luxury of watching his soaps up there, he just found Buffy more interesting than any television character – and for Spike, that's saying something.

"Willi – Spike, what are you doing?" The voice of the First resounded in his head for the first time in a week, and Spike gasped with the shock of it.

"Uh, watching my new version of the telly? That's all I do, Mr. High and Mighty. You haven't bloody given me much else, have you? No demons to kill or lives to save, that is… Since, you know. Everyone up here's dead," Spike spat out. After only a few weeks, he was really getting sick of this whole "all eternity in blissful rest" thing. Spike was never one to sit around. He was a man – and vampire – of action, not words.

"Really, William. You would think you would enjoy eternal happiness," the voice came to him again.

"Yeah, well. Never bloody considered my being a demon, then, did you? We don't deserve happiness. We deserve something to do," he snarled.

"Really, William. When you had something to do, you rarely did it. All you did when you were on Earth was watch your soap operas, and now you will not even do that. You watch and wish for her life, the life you gave up. Will you ever just relax?" The first chided him.

"I bloody told you, didn't I?" Spike volleyed in return. "I don't deserve this kind of happiness."

Okay, okay, everyone... Please, hold the applause. Actually, scratch that. If you liked it, tell me? If not, let me know why? I'm not much of a beggar. But I'm totally begging. Like I've heard said, reviews are love. Or hate. Whichever you mean them to be. (If you didn't catch it, that last part was all me doing the saying.)

Once again,

*K