~Buffy~



All I could do was imagine the time that Angelus killed Jenny all those years
ago; how Giles had risked his life to kill him. I saw him doing that now,
without even leaving his apartment. All of the things that he used to do for
me cost him something very precious, very important, of his own. Something
that he couldn't get back. Something that he was giving me, to each of us.

To keep us alive.

I should have hog-tied him and forced him to sleep.

It was always hard for me to watch him while he was working. Even though he
seemed happiest amidst all of his books, while researching something we all
thought we would never be able to find, I secretly worried about him the
whole time. What if Giles got too burnt out? What if he ended up getting
hurt because of something he was trying to do or find for me? And the most
selfish, scary question of all: What if I was left without him in my life?

Saying that he's like my father is inadequate. There's a deeper connection
between us than the blood of family could ever forge. The connection that
came with destiny, the connection that came with bloodshed. For each other,
we did these things. And what if one of us was left without the other?

My heart skipped a beat and I paused mid-step, clutching my chest. My dreams
for the past few nights hadn't been very good, but since I couldn't remember
them at all, I knew that they couldn't be prophetic. And yet... The thought
of losing Giles, or any one of my friends, made me freeze in terror. The
thought of one of us lost in the darkness, without anyone there to pull us
back, was horrifying.

And it made a gruesome sort of sense.

I was sure I must be going crazy. How could that ever make sense? What kind
of a saving-the-world operation was this? I felt as though Fate, the very
Fate that had made me what I was, the Fate that had connected me so
intimately with all of my friends, was now laughing at me again.

A five-year old's laugh. 'I know something you don't know!' I wanted to
growl in frustration, scream and beat my hands and feet against the ground
futilely. Yes, the Fates knew something that I didn't. And they were making
a joke of it. On top of all of the other cruel jokes they had made on me.
Always finding some way to ruin Buffy's life, even when she's an adult.

Maybe I was still a little bitter over the Angel thing.

Suddenly Willow's voice broke through my thoughts, and I looked up in a daze
to realize that she had been trying to revive me for two minutes. "Buffy!!"

"What?" I blinked.

"I just..." She swallowed, looking shaken. "All of the sudden you stopped,
and clutched at your heart. You wouldn't move or talk. I... I slapped you."

I paused for a moment. Yes, my cheek stung a little. My breath came out as
a wheeze. "I sort of got caught up in a... I don't know. A sort of a
daydream."

Willow seemed to think this over and then grudgingly accept what I said,
though I could tell that she had her own suspicions. "Well, we're here."

"Where?"

"The donut shop."

"Oh. Okay." I forced a smile, giving Willow's arm a little squeeze. "Why
don't we get a box just for Giles? Filled with jellies? Think he'd like?
And something for each of the others? Like, we can get some
chocolate-covered ones for Xander, and a muffin for Cordy? And..."

"A couple of maple bars for Oz," she supplied.

"Yeah."

"Sure." Willow said it simply. I glanced at her and for a second our eyes
locked. I saw that she was just as eager to do something for all of them as
I was, even if it was something small. A way to be nice, to show that we
knew them and loved them, a way to show that we loved having them as a part
of our lives. I couldn't say why the feeling was so strong, but it was.
Obviously, to her as well.

We looked away from each other, but the feeling lingered on the edge of my
mind; I knew it would be there all the way through this. Donuts may have not
been the deepest way to tell your friends that you loved them, but it would
have to do for now.

We had to treat each other well. In the end, we were all that we had.
* * * * * *

A half-hour before the sun set, I excused myself from Giles's, and drove over
to Angel's. I knew he wouldn't really mind a long, brooding walk through the
dark streets of Sunnydale, but I wanted to be with him as often as I could.
Selfish of me yet again, I supposed, but as excited as I was to be doing what
I was destined for, there was a part of me that was terrified. I had a bad
feeling. And I wanted to be with everyone, as if these days were the last
ones we were all going to be together.

Besides that, I had something I wanted to give him.

I let myself into the mansion, and for a moment I just looked around in awe.
It didn't seem smaller to me as things sometimes tend to do when you grow up
and go back to a childhood resting place, but instead seemed even more
magnificent, more romantic, more... Haunted with memories than ever before.

I shook myself out of the stupor that set upon me when I first entered, and
walked quietly into his room. He was asleep.

I smiled a little, realizing that in all of the time we had spent together;
all of the nights where I fell asleep with him, curled up in his arms after
an especially hard battle, I rarely woke in time to see him asleep. And
whenever I did, he woke up seconds after I did; we were attuned to each
other, even in rest.

I walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, letting my hand
drift over his features. Quietly memorizing the feel of his face, his neck,
his shoulders, under my fingertips. After a few moments, he stirred and his
eyes fluttered open. He looked at me seriously, as if understanding my need
for closeness.

I no longer wanted to pretend that there couldn't be anything between us. I
no longer felt the need. There would always *be* something between us.
Something deeper than the deepest kind of love, more pure than the holiest
water, more intimate than sex or blood. There always had been, no matter how
hard we each tried to deny it, and there would be forever. We were linked.
It was undefinable. The word love was the only way to express it, and even
that fell unbelievably short.

"Buffy," he whispered, as though he knew I would come.

He probably did.

I placed my finger over his lips and he looked at me questioningly. I
smiled, and my request was as quiet as my breath. "Change, my love."

He paused for a moment, his eyes on mine, and then nodded, acceding to what I
asked. Ridges filled his eyebrows and his teeth elongated. The warm, lovely
brown of his eyes brightened to a frightening gold, and still he was
beautiful to me. I helped him sit up.

He watched me in silence as I pulled a very small, very sharp dagger out of
my purse. His eyes widened a little, but he did nothing to question me, or
to stop me. I lifted the knife and opened my mouth, reaching in and making a
tiny but deep cut appear on my tongue. The blood rushed forth in my mouth,
coppery and filled with life.

And before the wound could stop bleeding, I leaned forward and kissed him.

Angel froze for a moment, unsure of what to do, and then I placed my hands
around his skull, pressing him closer to me. He relaxed a little bit and
opened his mouth over mine, his tongue pressing my own gently. As the first
taste of my blood hit him, I felt him shudder with delight, heard him groan
with the sheer pleasure. The last time, I had been nearly insane with grief
over the thought of losing him. This time, I was clear-headed and wanted to
savor the moment.

He pulled me closer to him, grasping at my waist tightly, until I was sitting
on his lap and he was kneading my hips. It was sensuous and intimate,
halfway on top of him, feeling his erection press into the backs of my
thighs, knowing that it was me who had given him such pleasure. He
alternated lapping at my tongue and then sucking on it furiously, his hands
creeping up to wind through my hair. The blood continued to flow. The kiss
went on and on.

I began to feel dreamy and distant, apart from the world, locked with him in
that secret, forbidden embrace. I could taste my blood on his lips.

As the dizziness set in, I squeezed his shoulder lightly, and Angel paused in
his bloodkiss, understanding my gesture. Carefully, he pulled himself away
and with a tremendous effort, changed his face back. His hands held my face
gently but firmly, as though afraid to let go.

His eyes were incredibly warm. He knew what I had been trying to do; trying
to give him something that he needed, something that he would delight in,
something that only I could give to him. Something that would perhaps cement
what we had been wondering about since we had laid eyes on each other again
for the first time in four years. Were we still a part of each other?

Yes.

Would we always be?

The question had been laid to rest.