Part Nine - Interlude

*/*Angel*/*

If I could have killed Brendan right then without arousing suspicion, I would have. I'd have torn him limb from limb and left his genitals lying around in artful disarray. It was disgusting the way he was flirting with her. Blatant sexual advances, like 'I hear Californian Girls are the most fun.' and 'Yeah, I like to exercise,' and 'So, whereabouts in California are you from?'.

Okay, maybe it was just the way he said them. Maybe I wasn't completely over her. I mean, how could I be? The way she smiled, the way she laughed. Long silky hair in a constantly changing shade of blonde. The way she moved, and spoke, and looked at me with those big green-grey-blue-brown eyes, twinkling mischievously as she tried to get a reaction, any reaction out of me.

Guess that explains *that* shirt. I know she was watching me when I read it, and I know she was probably disappointed by my lack of reaction, but what could I say? What could I do? It's not as if I could have jumped up in a room full of my friends and accused her of being cold and unfeeling about my visit with Hades. I mean, they'd all look at me as if I was nuts. People today don't *believe* in Hell. It's just a fairytale told to the world to try and make them behave. It's a form of psychological control and domination. Not a real place where tortured souls scream and cry and call out for loved ones that abandoned them long ago. Even if I could yell at Buffy, and accuse her of such things, in front of my friends, I wouldn't, because I know she does care. I know she had nightmares about killing me, and I know that it was one of the most despairing moments of her life. I know that she might as well have been in Hell right alongside me. No, she wore the shirt to see if *I* still cared... about Hell, and about the Hellmouth, and about *her*. Of course I did. I cared. I'll always care, she'll always be there in my heart, but our time has passed. It was time to move on.

Wasn't it?

*^*^*
/end of interlude/

Apparently, I'd chosen one of the worst possible times to run to Angel for refuge. God, it was bad enough, staying in a house with Angel and Sam, his lover, his *fiance*, without any added complications.

Sam's family was coming to stay. I was assured that there would be plenty of room anyway - Angel and Sam lived in a fairly large house - and that I wasn't to even *consider* going to stay in a hotel room. Sam simply *would not* allow it. I didn't know how to handle it. This had gone from very simple, very familiar without-Angel-heartbreak, to I'm-completely-out-of-place-here anxiety. Not that I wasn't familiar with being the odd one out - 'One girl in the world' and all that. You know those hopes and dreams I mentioned earlier? The ones that I could still let burn within my heart because there was no proof that things would happen otherwise? Well, those little flames were dying out. I'm just going to say it: Angel wasn't mine any more.

Oh, god, now I think I'm going to be sick. I react really physically, y'know? A large part of me wanted to just curl up and die right on Angel's floor, and the other part of me wanted to kick something's ass. Something really happy and beautiful and magical. Like, a unicorn, or a fairy.

Yeah, that would have felt real good. Sam went to pick them up from the airport that night, leaving Angel and I at home. Alone. There was a moment of awkward silence as Sam walked out the door, and I then I chuckled. "What's so funny?" Angel asked me, relaxing a little. "Us! This!" I giggled, "We used to tell each other pretty much everything. You've seen me at my worst make-up-less moments. You've drunk my blood! And here we are, unable to even make conversation. We're pathetic." He laughed too, and it sounded wonderful. "We're not pathetic, we're...complicated."

"Yeah," I said, but we both kept laughing.

I still can't pinpoint the exact moment that my laughter turned to tears. Angel caught my eyes, caught the tears rolling down my cheeks that were clearly not of mirth, and stopped laughing immediately. "Buffy?" he said softly, in that tone he always used to use with me. "It's nothing. I'm fine... Just...this is a lot, Angel." I wiped at my eyes. "I - I shouldn't have come here."

I started to walk away, but he caught me by the arm and pulled me into a hug. I can't express in words how amazing it felt to have his body pressed up against mine so tightly. Angel just stood there, holding me, neither of us saying a word. There was nothing to say, really.

After a while, we parted, looking into each other's eyes in that intense way we have before releasing each other completely. We went to dinner, and the hug wasn't mentioned again. Some things are just too hard to talk about.