Angel sat in a chair in Buffy's living room. He looked at the ceiling as if transfixed on something abnormal. He heard a creak on the stairs and looked up to see Buffy, who was wearing cow pajamas. "Sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just came to get something to drink."

He smiled. "It's okay. You didn't interrupt me. I was just thinking."

She walked over and sat on the arm of the chair. "What were ya thinking about?" She asked, seemingly interested.

"Everything." He replied nonchalantly. "There's just so much that I've got to think about. I mean, Buffy? You died. Just thinking about how I would have gotten along without you. It scares me."

Buffy looked deep into his eyes, as if trying to read them, but all they showed was concern - for her. "I know." She replied looking down. "It hurts inside. To think about it - us. I hate it."

Angel looked up at her and reached out and touched her arm. "Hate what?"

"Everything!" She said, standing. "I hate that I can't express how I feel. Or even think about it. Because I know if I do, it'll just cause more pain than there already is."

Angel looked hurt, yet understanding. He felt the same way she did, understood exactly what she felt. He, too, hated it. Just the thought killed him. "Buffy?"

She looked up at him.

"I love you." They said in unison. Buffy smiled.

Angel stood up, and took her hand, they looked at each other deeply in the eyes.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Gin." Said Dawn, looking gallantly.

Spike looked up, uncaringly, and layed his cards down on the table. "Whatever." He said, standing and heading upstairs.

"What's wrong, Spike?" Asked Dawn.

"Nothin', love. Just a little bit dazed, that's all. Think I'd better get some shut-eye."

Spike walked up the stairs and mumbled to himself. "I help with everything, save her life from time to time. And then that big poof comes and sweeps her off her feet. Pft."

Spike hates Angel, everyone knows that. He hated it even more that Angel could have Buffy without even trying to impress her. He knew they loved each other, but he didn't quite understand it. Love was so confusing, it seemed he would never quite get it.

If I, the writer, may interrupt for a moment. Buffy and Angel are soulmates. It's a common known fact; they always have been and always will be. But Angel is a vampire. Buffy is a slayer. Angel is immortal; Buffy is not. How could it ever work? It couldn't - not without love. Buffy and Angel's love is so powerful that it can overcome all of that. If you have a power like that, the things separating you from your lover become irrelevant. Buffy and Angel will always love each other, whether they can be together, we do not yet know, but the fact still remains. Buffy and Angel are soulmates.

Buffy and Angel stood together, hand in hand in the graveyard. Neither of them wanted to say anything, for fear of what might come out. Finally Angel turned, they kissed passionately, not wanting to let each other go, but knowing they had to. Buffy sniffled, "I love you, Angel."

He squeezed her hands, the released them, turning to walk away. Buffy threw her arms around him, not knowing if she could bear watching him leave once again. They hugged each other tightly, then Angel released her and turned. He started walking, but only got about fifty feet away before he turned back to look at her.

Almost silently, he whispered, "Goodbye, my slayer, my lover, my soul. My heart shall forever be with you, beating or not. I love you more than God himself, forevermore, forevermore." Slowly, he turned and walked away.