DISCLAIMER: JOSS owns all rights regarding all Buffy characters. Sara McLachlan owns all rights regarding Possession and its lyrics. I own nothing but an overactive imagination and an undeniable need to share my crazy thoughts with others.

Here's a bonus chapter since it's Monday and nobody wants to work or deal with school anyways. Reviews are lovely and so very much appreciated. ;o)

Into this night I wander, it's morning that I dread, Another day of knowing of the path I fear to tread,

Buffy's fingers pressed against the great wall of windows in her room. In their room. Below her the city moved from day to night, lights flickering on, shops closing, and no doubt demons emerging.

A few stars winked in the smoggy black sky. Buffy missed seeing real stars. Missed nights spent walking under them with a stake in her fist and a friend at her side.

Friend? No, that wasn't right. It wasn't enough for him. And yet, even that had been too much for her to admit before, hadn't it?

There was a quiet in her sadness now that scared her. An acceptance that allowed the pain to soak into her bones. For more than three months, she had warred against her memories. She fought the vulnerable whispers in her heart, fought the haunting reminders of his life, and more than anything, fought to recapture the all-consuming love she had once felt for Angel. And it was still there. But so was Spike, teasing her with his pale beauty, challenging her former resolve.

It had been much worse lately. Something happened that night it stormed, that night Angel had almost caught her crying. The rain that pounded against those tall windows seemed to wash all the fight out of her. In the few days since, he was clearer in her mind than he ever had been. His voice was just outside of the room, his face just behind her own reflection. Though his death moved further away, it seemed he moved closer.

Buffy turned to the bed, leaving the city and its night behind her. She re- folded a pair of Angel's pants and put them in the closet. It was unlike him to leave them. Unlike him to leave a mess at all. But tonight he had been called to patrol early. And he had left her here because she wasn't the Slayer anymore. She was supposed to be normal.

Normal. Buffy chuckled hollowly.

She couldn't pretend to be what she wasn't. And as sure as she still tingled when a vampire came near her, she was not normal. She looked at the spotless room resenting the stark cleanliness of this place. She secretly longed for an ancient TV and an array of mismatched candles. Her hands itched to clamp around a stake. Her ears strained to hear the throbbing beat of music at The Bronze. But above it all she craved the sound of his laughter and the sight of his body, all those lean, long lines moving in that predatory way that was uniquely and singularly Spike.

She loved Angel. Always had. But she longed for Spike. And something in her told her she always would.

"Why do you still feel so close?" she sobbed aloud, sinking to the floor with her back to the window.

After a long while, she shook away the memories of cigarette smoke and the sound of his creaking duster when he'd settle into a chair. After a longer while, she rose from the floor and dressed in a nightshirt to climb into the huge bed. And then, after time beat out what seemed like a thousand lonely heartbeats in her mind, she fell asleep.