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Part Three
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We sat in his dining room, the tension thick between us. While he made tea, we had been oddly polite and formal, considering how well we know....knew....each other. We had gone through the formalities, each asking after the other's well being, each nodding and smiling, Angel pretending to believe my lies about life being 'great', and me pretending not to care about how happy he sounded. anywhere beyond friendly interest. we'd come in here, and sat down across from each other. His knee had brushed mine, and it was like this surge of adrenaline sped through my vains...it had been an age since I'd last touched him, and I longed to press my hand against his heart and feel the vibrations of his heartbeat burn through my veins.

It was with great diffuculty that I resisited the impulse. I tightened my hold on my teacup 'til I feared it would shatter under the pressure, then relinquished my deathgrip and smoothed my hands across the tablecloth. It was a beautiful crimson shade, with threads of silver running through it. I ran a nail along one of the silver columns, sighing, and then finally looking up at Angel.

He remained undaunted by the brush of our limbs, in fact, I was pretty sure he hadn't even noticed it.

I didn't know whether to be glad, sad, or offended, so I chose indifference instead.

So he didn't want me anymore. He didn't burn for me, like I did for him. In the grand scheme of things, did it really matter? I think not. It's not like I had a long lonely life stretched out before me.

No, I had a *short* lonely life stretched out before me.

Amazing, and quite depressing, that that actually made me feel better.

"What is it, exactly, that you need from me, Buffy?" He asked quietly, gazing at me with such indifference that I felt I was going to drop to my knees and cry, sob out years worth of frustration and unhappiness, because everything was so dark, everything was so hopeless.....

"I need you to hide me." I said evenly.

I need you to want me

"There's this demon..."

I need you to need me.

"It's a long story...."

I need you to love me.

I wasn't really sure how much I shoud tell him. Complete knowledge was out of the question, it would make things *way* too weird between us. Not that they weren't weird already, but.... Did he really need to know that he was the only person who could protect me? I think not. He didn't need to know anything. Anything at all.

It was better that way.

"It's not really that interesting...besides, the less you know, the safer you are." I finished softly.

There. That should stop him from asking too many questions.

It would be too awkward to explain to him that he was the only person who could protect me. The reasons brought back too many memories, and the pain of mulling over them would be like a cancer, eating away at my head, my heart.

My 17th birthday. It all came back to that night.

You see, the demon that was pursuing me wasn't really dangerous at all. It just wasn't in his nature, or the nature of his species, to take 'no' for an answer.

He wanted me for his mate.

Todd was a Ealista demon. They were peaceful demons, living lives that mirrored a human existence perfectly. He was handsome, successful, sweet... but I didn't love him, and never would.

Unfortunately, once an Ealista chooses a mate, it won't let that mate go, whether the relationship is consensual or not. In pursuit of that mate, an Ealista will wipe out anything that stands between it and the object of it's affections. It won't become peaceful again til it can settle down and raise a family with it's mate.

Problem is, I didn't want to kill Todd. He hadn't hurt anyone, as of yet, and we'd been friends before he'd decided that I was the love of his life. I couldn't stand to watch another friend , another *peaceful* friend, die.

Thankfully, Wesley agreed. After Giles' death, Wesley had just fallen back into the position of my Watcher, and I was grateful for it. We worked well together, and had become close...Not Father/Daughter close, like Giles and I, but more...Brother/Sister. It worked out well, and we loved aeach other dearly.

For hours, Wesley researched books of Ealista traditions.

Finally, he found something that could help me.

Angel.

According to an old Ealista custom, a mate cannot be claimed if he or she is already 'owned' by another. As I was.

When I gave myself to Angel all those yars ago, I became his forever. No other man, or woman, or demon could claim me as their own.

Well, if you follow Ealista law, anyway.

So basically, Todd just had to come here, see that I had supposedly been 'claimed' by my lover, and he would give up on me. Neat, huh?

I hadn't counted, though, on being around Angel being so hard. Samantha, for one thing, was something that I hadn't let myself believe would happen.

But, there it was. Angel was getting married. To someone else.

He was happy. With someone else. As in not me.

And here I was, all alone. As usual.

"Oh," He said. "Okay, I trust your judgement. And you can stay here. In our spare bedroom."

There was an awkward pause, and then I said, "Thankyou. It means a lot that you'd still help me, even after...."

I trailed off uncomfortably.

The silence that followed was stark, heavy, harsh. I could hear his heart beat.

"Buffy....." He started, looking at his hands, "When I didn't come back...I don't want you to think- I mean, it wasn't because- I just thought-"

"Don't," I cut him off, rather harshly. I could feel a ball of pain surfacing in my stomach. "It doesn't matter. IT's in the past, and that past is...gone. It worked out better for everyone."

He nodded, slowly, and then got up, going into the kitchen to get some tea.

"Everyone who's not currently Buffy," I whispered to the empty room.

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I stuffed a handful of popcorn into my mouth, rolling onto my side to avoid choking. Next to me, Angel lay on his back, scoffing down a chocolate bar. I noticed that he'd smeared caramel all over his bottom lip, and it took a multitude of self control to prevent myself from kissing it away.

Instead, I turned my attention to the room around us.

We lay on his living room floor, just chatting. Catching up. It was nice....and odd....and slightly awkward. Odd, because Angel moved and spoke like a regular human. Every now and then I'd stop and look at him, with beams of sun lighting his face, his hair, his eyes. He looked amazing, like he always had, but...different, to how he had as a vampire, when he had bathed in velvety darkness rather than silken sunlight.

Awkward, for much the same reason. I still wanted him with every part of me, and I'm sure he knew. How could he not, with the way I'd catch myself staring at him adoringly, practically salivating? He didn't say anything, but he knew.

Once, he would have cared. He would have felt the same way, would have been burning to touch me, to hold me.

Ironic, really, that now that he could, without danger, he no longer wanted to.

We talked about everything except the ever present cloud of 'us'.

Not that I wanted to talk about us.

Things were complicated enough as it was.

"So how're the guys?" Angel asked, the smooth, delicious sound of his voice breaking me from my reverie.

"The usual. Willow and Tara, still going strong. They're pretty cute, actually. Positively adorable sometimes. Xander and Anya are on again, off again. They see other people. Cordelia is filming in Paris at the moment, but last time I spoke to her, she was great. Sleeping with her director. Also, her producer, but if you could keep that quiet, she'd be grateful."

"Filming?"

"She's had acting lessons since you last saw her. She's got a small part in an independent movie. It'll probably never see the light of day....Oz comes in and out of town, still trying to control his wolfiness. He drifts from band to band, job to job. Still plays with the Dingoes, whenever he can. He's still Oz. His silences are a lot more serious, now, though."

"What about Wes?"

My face lit in an affectionate smile. "He's great. Still single, but then, so am I, so it works. We get on a lot better than we used to. A bond formed out of necessity, I suppose, but a bond all the same."

A strange expression settled onto his face. I'd seen it before, but I couldn't quite place it.

"Are you two...Are you *sleeping* together?"

I had to restrain a whoop of joy as I placed the expression.

Jealousy! He was *jealous*!

I can't tell you how much that meant to me, even if his jealousy was out of habit, rather than passion. At least he *cared*, even in some small way. Even if he wouldn't admit it.

I wish I could let him keep believing that Wes and I were having a torrid affair, but at the same time, I knew that it would be cruel to play with his mind, especially when he had opened his home to me. When he was keeping me safe.

"Oh, yeah. I mean, I just couldn't resist him. Those guys with three names are *so* sexy. Behind that serious facade, there's a world of sexuality just waiting to be set free. It's breathtaking."

Okay, so maybe I could play with his mind a *little*.

Angel had gone ashen white, which was sorta gratifying. He blinked several times, swallowing. He looked panicked. "R- Really?" He stammered.

I started to laugh. "No!" I exclaimed, "Angel, the guy is my *watcher*. That thought is just...sick. Really sick. I'm severely worried about you, now."

The look on his face was priceless. I almost wish I had a camera. A deep relief, combined with mortified embarrassment, mixed with just a dash of puzzled confusion.

"Your watcher?" He asked, once he was able to speak again. "What happened to Giles?"

I lifted my hand to the scar that marked my cheek, running my fingers down it, trying not to cry. Somehow, having to tell Angel about it brought all the carefully worked through pain back. I could hear Giles' screams in my mind, see the blood...oh, god, the blood.... the blood....

"Giles is dead," I said emotionlessly, sitting up, wrapping my arms around my knees and staring out his window at a tree, blowing in the winter wind.

The shocked silence stretched on for a eternity, and the room was suddenly freezing cold and stark, as if the world itself were grieving Giles' death.

I heard Angel release a breath, then another. I know he was shocked, probably saddened by the death of a great man, Giles', who was once *his* friend, too. I knew all of this, and it only made it harder.

"I'm so sorry, Buffy," he said quietly, gently. His voice was almost a physical carress, trying to soothe me. I could feel it running over my skin, felt warmth in my bones.

It didn't make it easier. "Why?" I said bitterly, "It's not your fault. You weren't even there."

His wince was almost audible. "I..."

"Don't," I whispered, "I just want to drop it."

Part of me was furious at him for not being there when I had needed him so much, just to hold me, to comfort me. Another, more sensible part knew that I had no right to ask him to waste his new humanity on me. I had nothing to offer him, just like I had nothing to offer Riley. Or Tyler. Or Pike. Or Scott.

But damn, it hurt, that he was just like them.

"So are you still with Riley?" He asked hesitantly.

God, was he trying to kill me?

"No," I said, flopping back, staring up at the cieling, "He left about 4 and a half years ago."

"Why?"

"He knew I didn't love him," I said simply.

"But is there anyone in your life?"

I shrugged, "Why bother? It always turns out the same way."

He didn't reply, and I was glad, because I hadn't meant to make him feel guilty. Changing the subject, I started telling him about Spike.

It took almost an hour for the uneasy bitterness to flee, but I covered fairly well. Once, Angel would have seen through it immediately, but now, he wasn't even suspicious.

So much for soulmates.