Liebestraum
Warmth surrounded Angel. He sighed in contentment as he opened his eyes to a room flooded with sunlight. It was so warm, so beautiful. How had he gone so long without the sun?
Cordelia still laid in his arms, sleeping. But there was another presence, he realized, just at his back. He looked over his shoulder.
Buffy grinned at him, her face impish at his surprise. "Do you have any idea what most men would pay to be in your position right now?" she asked.
He looked at Cordelia's sleeping form, then back to Buffy. "This isn't what it looks like."
"Looks to me like a man being comforted by a very good friend."
"Okay. Maybe it is what it looks like."
Buffy grinned again. "I'm good at these things." She rolled off the bed and stood. "Come on. I've got something to show you."
"But I'll be cold," he protested.
"Not for long. Trust me."
Angel laid Cordelia down. She didn't stir. As he stood up off the bed, he felt cold rushing in. Hastily, he followed Buffy. She led him through a few hallways, always disappearing around corners just before he could catch up to her. Finally, he found her standing in front of a sunny window. She was holding out a hand, cupped, in front of her.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Spring flowers. If you don't plant them now, they'll never grow." With that, Buffy blew across her palm. The seeds in it scattered out the window. Buffy looked satisfied. "See?"
Angel approached the window and stood beside Buffy. Outside, the day was bright and sunny over a field of wildflowers. He could feel the sun on his skin and smell the scents of the flowers as a warm spring breeze wafted in.
Across the field, he could see two figures making their way through the flowers. Cordelia, in a yellow sundress, and Dawn, in a matching rose pink one, were ambling slowly and aimlessly through the field. They were swinging a basket between them and occasionally plucking flowers to put in it.
"They're getting along just fine," murmured Buffy.
"And you worried so," said Angel.
They could see more people in the field of flowers now. Giles and Wesley were in the north corner, fencing spiritedly. Anya and Xander were in the foreground, she in a medieval gown with a wreath of flowers in her hair, he dressed as a knight. Willow and Tara floated on their backs just over the tallest flowers, picking out shapes in the clouds. Occasionally, Willow would start to float too high, and Tara would have to pull her back down again.
"That worries a little," said Buffy.
"I'd imagine so."
Spike tossed a Frisbee from the east corner. Suddenly, Gunn exploded out of the center of the field, catching the Frisbee and winging it back at the vampire.
"Those two," chuckled Angel. "So alike."
Buffy nodded. "They'll be fine. Not all at once, but they'll all be fine." She turned toward Angel. "And you?"
Angel felt a little knot of fear in his stomach. What had seemed clear earlier, with Cordelia, suddenly wasn't. "I'm not sure."
"I am," said Buffy. She set her hand on his chest. "There's a light there, you know."
"But you're my Beatrice," he whispered.
"Well, she was dead too, wasn't she?" Buffy smiled. "You don't need me anymore. You haven't, not for a long time. You're not alone."
He drew her in. "You were my dream," he said simply.
"And I'll always be with you."
They kissed in the sunlight, long and tender and passionate. She felt so familiar, so real, so right. But even in dreams, kisses can't last forever.
She pulled back. "I have to go."
"Buffy . . ." He started crying again.
"Shh," she soothed. "Full of grace, my love."
"I love you," he whispered. "I will always love you."
"Always." She stroked his face gently. "Close your eyes."
He did so. He felt her kiss him again, very softly.
Then cold air rushed through him, and she was gone. He opened his eyes to discover the room dark, the field outside empty ground. But there was something . . . he took a closer look to see what glittered all over the bare earth.
It was billions of seeds, waiting for spring.