A/N:  Yeah, I know it's been done a million times.  But it's never been done by me.  Spoilers through The Gift and There's No Place Like Pltz Grb. 

Disclaimer:  Don't own a thing.  Although I wish I owned David Boreanaz.  Sigh…

"Angel – I – she – she's –" Willow found herself unable to say the word.  Saying it was wrong, saying it was sacrilegious, saying it was accepting that the girl lying amongst the rubble really had been Buffy.

            Angel stood stoic and unmoving, simply blinking and staring directly at Willow.  Cordelia broke the silence first.

            "Willow!  What's wrong?  What's up with Buffy?"  Cordelia was cautiously approaching Willow.  Willow wanted to ask why Cordelia was dressed like a hooker, but she sensed that this wasn't the time or place.  Before she could think of anything to say, the skinny brown haired girl, who was still standing in the doorway, spoke up.

            "Sometimes when you wiggle your nose too much, it'll end up squashed like a bug."  She looked excitedly back and forth, first at Wesley, and then at the tall African American man standing next to her.  Willow swallowed a lump in her throat and tried her best not to scream.

            "Let me change my clothes.  Then we'll go."  Angel was crossing the lobby of the hotel, heading towards his office.  Cordelia started after him.

            "Go where?  Angel, what's going on?  Willow, what is with the ugly outfit?  Can someone please explain what the –"

            "GODDAMMIT CORDELIA!"  Angel whirled around, a look of rage and fury on his face.  Cordelia let out a small shriek and stepped backwards.  The group of people stood in the lobby, scared and silent.  Angel was physically trembling, and seemed to be focusing all of his efforts into not exploding.

            "Buffy's dead."  Willow was amazed that she could speak the words.  Cordelia turned back towards Willow.

            "Buffy… what?  Willow?"  Cordelia sank down on the nearest couch, seeming more puzzled than anything else.

            Wesley slowly approached.  "Good lord, Willow, when did this happen?"

            "Two days ago.  I – the morning after, I came here.  I ate some stuff from the refrigerator.  I hope that's ok."

            "It's – that's quite alright.  We can replace the food… it probably would have spoiled anyway."  Wesley removed his glasses, and began to wipe them with a cloth he pulled from his pocket.  No one seemed to be sure what to say.  After a few moments, the tall African American man cleared his throat.

            "Look, I'm gonna take Fred down the street for some food.  Maybe we can find some tacos.  Miss, I'm sorry for your loss."  Willow nodded at the man, and watched him guide the brown haired girl out the door.  The brown haired girl gave them all a cheerful wave through the glass.

            "I'll be right back."  Angel entered his office, and shut the door very quietly behind him.  Willow played with the sleeve of her jacket, feeling as if she were in some sort of surrealist movie.  At any moment, she expected to Wesley to break into song while Cordelia performed an interpretive dance in the background.

            "Willow, if you want to wait a few minutes, Wes and I can get clothes and come with you.  Or if you want to leave now, we'll meet you later in Sunnydale."  Cordelia had risen from the couch, and was now standing beside Wesley.  Willow felt bile rising in her throat.

            "I don't see why you would come.  You guys were never friends with Buffy while she was alive, I don't know why you would want to be at her funeral."  Even as she said the words, Willow was shocked to hear them coming out of her mouth.  She wondered idly if tragedy brought out honesty.

            Cordelia looked stung.  "Willow – I know that Buffy and I never really – well, I mean we had our –but I want to be there.  I want to help."

            "And how would you do that?"  Willow clenched her fingers around her sleeves.  "Unless you have suggestions to bring Buffy back from the dead, I really don't see how helpful you could be."

            Cordelia opened her mouth to say something, but Wesley spoke first.  "Willow, I – we – understand.  We cannot hope to comprehend the degree of your loss.  Cordelia, why don't we head back to your apartment so you can change clothes.  I'm sure that Fred will require our utmost attention.  Good luck, Willow."  Wesley put his hand on Cordelia's back and gently steered her towards the door.  Cordelia shot one last glance over her shoulder at Willow as she exited the hotel.  Willow was somewhat surprised to see tears in Cordelia's eyes.

            "Did you drive?" 

            Willow gasped and turned around to find Angel standing almost directly behind her.  "No, I took the bus."

            Angel nodded.  "We can take my car."  He walked towards the door that Wesley and Cordelia had exited through moments earlier.  Feeling as if she had accomplished nothing, Willow followed behind him.

Within an hour of leaving the hotel, Willow had decided that the only way the car ride could be any more awkward would be if both she and Angel were naked.  They had run out of topics of conversation before they had gotten outside the Los Angeles city limits.  Angel had asked (or demanded, thought Willow) that Willow tell him everything about the events preceding Buffy's death.  Willow had repeated the story to him in an almost mechanical manner; she felt as if she was reading out loud from one of her textbooks.  If Angel had felt any reaction to her words, he hadn't shown it.  He had simply stared ahead at the seemingly endless road that stretched in front of the car. 

Now, a good half hour after finishing her story, Willow was beginning to wonder if she should say something.  She found herself wishing that she hadn't refused Tara's offer of company on her trip to L.A.

"Why didn't you call me?"  Willow was caught off guard by the sudden lapse in the silence.  Feeling the well of emotion rising up in her again, Willow tried to keep her voice under control.

"It's not like you would've come."

"That's crap, Willow, and you and I both know it."

"Please, Angel. This whole "I have to be separate from Buffy so she can live her own life and I won't help her out when she lost her mother and everything is going to hell" attitude is getting really – "

"I was at her mother's funeral."

Willow actually looked over at Angel.  Recovering from her momentary shock, she resumed her staring out the front windshield. 

"Buffy never told me that she saw you."

"She told me about everything, Willow.  I knew about Dawn, and the key, and Glory.  Why in the hell didn't someone call me?  I could've come, I could've fought with you, and I could've –"

"Bullshit, Angel."  Now it was Angel's turn to momentarily take his eyes off of the road in shock.  "You have your whole deal in LA, with your detective agency, and it's not even like you would've been there if we called.  From what I could see, it looked like you were off playing dress up with Cordelia –"

"Goddammit Willow, you don't know what we –"

"FINE!"  Willow felt the last of her self-control slipping away.  "So what if you came and fought with us.  It's not like anything would've changed.  Buffy still would have jumped.  She made it perfectly clear that she wasn't going to allow Dawn to die.  Enlighten me, Angel.  What exactly would your brilliant plan of action have been?"

Angel was quiet for a moment.  "I would have done what someone else should have."

"Spell it out for me."

"I would have killed Dawn."

Willow clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling a cry in her throat. 

"You know as well as I do, Willow, that that's the way things should've gone down."

"Pull the car over.  I'm going to be sick."  Willow leaned over and put her head in between her knees.

"Don't kid yourself.  Someone should have killed Dawn so Buffy could live."

"I SAID PULL OVER!"

Angel swung the car violently over to the shoulder of the road, and braked suddenly.  Willow struggled to get out of the car, stumbling and nearly falling as she pushed her way through the field at the side of the road.  Dropping to her knees, she began to vomit. 

A few moments later, she shakily drew in a breath and sank backwards into the grass.  Drawing her knees up to her body, she buried her face in her hands and tried not to cry.  She heard Angel approaching.

"Willow."

"Get the hell away from me."

"Willow, listen to me."  Angel placed his hand on Willow's shoulder.  "I love Dawn like a sister.  I have memories of playing with her and protecting her from numerous demon attacks.  I know the memories aren't real, but they feel real to me.  If Buffy had asked me to, I would have died for Dawn.  But if it came down to a choice between killing Dawn or watching Buffy die?  Call me selfish, call me a bastard, call me whatever you want.  But I would stabbed Dawn myself if it meant saving Buffy."

"I know you would've," said Willow softly.

"And you would have too."

Willow jerked her head up.  "No.  No.  I love Buffy but I would never –"

"Yes, you would, Willow.  If you had the chance.  You can't tell me that every time you lay eyes on Dawn you don't wish that you were helping Buffy bury her sister instead of the other way around.  Xander, Giles, they both feel the same.  Don't lie to me, Willow."  Willow sat in silence for a few minutes, feeling Angel's eyes boring into the side of her head. 

"I look at her, and I hate her."  Willow could feel tears streaming down her face.  "I mean, I know that I'm supposed to want to protect her and help her, because her mother just died, and her sister just died, and it's what Buffy wanted.  But I can't help it.  I don't want Dawn.  I want Buffy.  Angel, I want her back so bad."

The two sat there in silence for a few minutes while Willow continued to cry.  Angel's hand remained on her shoulder.  Finally, Willow wiped her eyes and slowly stood up.

"Let's go."

Angel nodded.  They walked silently back to the car.  Willow climbed into the passenger seat, wondering if she would ever stop feeling nauseous.

The rest of the car ride passed in silence.  It wasn't quite as awkward as it had been, but Willow was still grateful as they turned onto Revello Drive.  Angel stopped the car next to the curb.  Willow looked out the window and frowned.

"It's two houses down from here."

"I'm not going in.  You can get out here.  I don't want anyone to see me."

"You can't even –"

"Willow, out of you, Giles, and Xander, you hate me the least.  And you didn't exactly have a favorable reaction to seeing me.  It's better for everyone if you're the only person who knows that I'm here."

"Angel, I'm sure they'll put aside their feelings."

Angel sighed.  "Willow, they aren't expecting me, are they?"

Willow paused.  "Technically, no."

"Did you tell them you were going to LA to find Buffy's father?"

Willow nodded.

"So I guess we're both hiding.  I'm betting that the funeral will be in daylight, so that no demons will know that the slayer has died?  How am I supposed to attend exactly?"

"You could stand in the shade."  Willow took a moment to wonder if that had sounded as stupid out loud as it had in her head.

"I won't leave town without letting you know."

Willow nodded, and finding that she had nothing else to say, climbed out of the car.  She heard Angel drive away as she walked down the street.  Approaching the Summers house, she saw that a light was still on in the living room.  She opened the door and walked in.

Xander was sitting on the sofa, staring at the TV.  As far as Willow could tell, he was watching the Home Shopping Network.

"Planning on buying an ionized blow dryer any time soon?"  Willow gestured towards the screen as she slipped out of her coat and crossed the room to join Xander on the couch.

"I've been wanting to try something different.  Maybe a crimping iron?"  Xander gave her a small smile, which Willow managed to return.

"Where is everyone?"

Xander exhaled.  "Well, Spike is still piss ass drunk in his crypt, as of about seven hours ago.  Dawn is asleep.  I sent Anya, Tara, and Giles home to shower and get some sleep.  I told them that you and I could hold down the fort for the night."

"A slumber party.  Just like old times."  Willow closed her eyes and leaned over, curling up against Xander's chest.  She felt him slide his arm around her and begin to stroke her arm.

"No luck finding Mr. Summers?"

"His secretary said somewhere in Majorca."  Willow felt slightly guilty not telling Xander the true purpose of her trip to LA, but she wasn't entirely lying.  She had visited Mr. Summer's office on her first day in LA, but had called Giles and told him that she was going to wait around an extra few days just in case he turned out.  She wondered if Giles had known what she was actually doing.  If so, he hadn't questioned her on the phone.

"Xander?"

"Yeah?"

"I really hate this." 

Xander sighed deeply.  Willow pulled herself a little closer to him, feeling his chest rise up and down.

"You, know, I always thought it would be me."  Xander began to absentmindedly stroke Willow's hair while he spoke.  "I mean, I knew that one of us would die.  Eventually.  I mean, come on Wills, we've been playing the odds for years now.  But I mean, I never thought that it would be Buffy.  I mean, she – she was the strongest, and she could kick anything's ass.  And then you, you're a witch, you can hold your own.  And Giles is just, well, he's Giles.  He's older than time itself.  He's gonna be around longer than all of us." 

Willow smiled in spite of herself.

"But me.  I'm no one.  I'm some guy who barely finished high school, and is managing to scrap together enough to cover rent by being a construction worker."

"Xander – "

"Willow, it shouldn't have been her.  You know it as well as I do."

Willow sighed and wrapped her arm around Xander's waist. 

"Let's get some sleep, ok?  We can't be all sleepy at the funeral."

Xander settled in on the couch, and Willow felt him kiss the top of her head.  "Night Willow."

"Night Xander."  Willow closed her eyes, and tried her best to banish Angel's words from her thoughts.

Angel had passed out on his old bed almost as soon as he had arrived at the mansion on Crawford Street.  And while he slept, he dreamed.

The day was sunny and warm, and he was standing in a field that stretched in waves of green as far as the eye could see.  Well, there's sunlight, and I'm not on fire, mused Angel.  Wonder if I'm dreaming about Pylea.

"Angel."  Not quite believing his ears, Angel spun around.  Buffy was standing in the middle of the field, wearing a simple white dress.  The sun was shining down on her hair, and her face was lit up by a brilliant smile.  Angel began to walk towards her, slowly at first, but then beginning to run.  He reached her, and without thinking twice he gathered her up in his arms and kissed her.  Her arms crept around his neck and returned the kiss full force.  A few moments later, they broke apart.  Buffy rested her head on Angel's chest.

"Buffy – I thought you were – I mean they told me that you were dead.  But I knew it wasn't true.  God, Buffy, I've never been happier to see you."  Angel rested his chin on top of Buffy's head.

"Angel, you know this isn't real."  Angel slowly pulled away from Buffy, although his arms remained around her waist.  Buffy sighed and began to stroke Angel's cheek with her palm.

"I mean, hey, sun?  Not good for you."

"Buffy, no.  You can't.  I can't let you."

"Yes, you can.  You have to."  Buffy paused, and looked up at him coyly.  "But I think we still have a few minutes."

They began to kiss, and Angel had never felt such a mix of joy and sorrow in his two hundred plus years.  Being there with Buffy, feeling her skin, her hair, inhaling her scent, and knowing that he would never see her again.  As Buffy scattered kisses along his jaw, Angel felt himself choking back a sob.

"Hey.  You trying to make the dead girl cry?"  Angel looked at Buffy, and saw tears glistening in what must have been a reflection of his own eyes. 

"Buffy, I don't want you to leave."

"You know that I'll never really leave you Angel."

Angel leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers.  "I know that I cannot exist for hundreds of years more knowing that I will never see you again.  I would rather end my life than face that prospect."

"Don't you dare."  Buffy's voice was shaking.  "Promise me, Angel.  Promise me that you will continue to fight.  It's what you do Angel, it's what I died doing.  We never stop.  We fight because we know that the world depends on us to.  Promise me."

"I promise."  The words were barely audible, but Angel was rewarded by a smile and a kiss.

"Angel, you need to do something for me."

"Anything."

"It's Dawn.  She's in trouble.  You have to help her."

"Buffy, I can't stay around here forever.  I'm sorry, I just can't.  This whole town is just a big reminder of you."

"Not forever."  Buffy seemed to struggle with the words.  "Just help her out tonight.  Set her back on track.  The rest will take care of itself."

Angel looked into Buffy's eyes for a moment, and then kissed her as gently as he could.  "Okay."

"Thank you."  Then it was Buffy's turn to kiss him.  Angel wrapped his arms around her as tightly as possible, holding on to anything he could.  And then he opened his eyes.

At first, Angel didn't know where he was.  Slowly, he became oriented to his surroundings.  Checking his watch, he realized that he had slept for an entire day.

"Guess the funeral's over," Angel muttered, rising to his feet.  Walking around the room, Angel struggled to remember his dream. 

After a few minutes, he gave up.  Realizing that he needed to begin driving back to LA, Angel exited the mansion.  He decided to visit Buffy's grave, but knew that he couldn't remain there for too long.  After all, he had to get back before –

"Dawn."  Angel stopped in his path as he said her name.  He had promised Buffy that he would look after her.  He struggled for a moment as the rest of the dream came flooding back to him.  For a moment he thought that he might collapse, but the feeling path.  With a shaky control on his emotions, Angel headed towards the cemetery.

Angel crouched down next to the plain stone.  Tracing his finger over the letters, he once again forced himself not to cry out.  He knew that she was approaching behind him, but he didn't move until she spoke.

"Too good to show up for the funeral?"

Slowly, Angel rose to his feet.

"I knew it.  I figured you would be here.  Of course, you couldn't come and cry with the rest of us like a normal person.  Oh yeah, you're not a person."

"What exactly are you doing here?"  Angel turned around as he spoke.  Dawn stood behind him, arms crossed in a stubborn pose.

"I'm mourning.  She was my sister, you know."

"Mourning, or trying to get eaten?"

Dawn held up a cross with an irritated sweep of her hand.  "I know how to look out for myself." 

Angel swung his arm out as fast as a lighting strike, and in one, quick clean movement, knocked the cross out of Dawn's hand.  Dawn glanced at the fallen cross for a moment, and then returned her arms to their former position of being crossed over her chest.

"What are you going to do?  Bite me?" 

"No.  But he might."  Angel lunged forward, and grabbing Dawn, tossed her off to the side.  A large, snarling vampire made a leap for Angel.  Angel's action of moving Dawn had put him at a slight disadvantage, and the vamp was able to catch him in a tackle.  Angel felt himself morph into his game face as he and the unnamed vamp rolled across the ground.  Angel managed to catch the guy's jaw with a well-placed punch, and used the momentary distraction to leap to his feet.  Before the vamp could fully recover, Angel let out a spinning roundhouse kick.  The vamps' body made a satisfying cracking sound as Angel's foot came into contact with it.  Quickly picking up a stick laying on the ground, Angel plunged it into the vampire's heart, and watched as he dissolved into a cloud of dust.  Tossing the stick aside, Angel walked over to where Dawn was sitting on the ground.  He offered her a hand up, but she simply glared at him and got up on her own.

"Just go away, ok?  I don't need anyone to save me."

"Obviously, you do."

"Oh yeah?  And so what?  You gonna come move in now?  Keep me safe?"

Angel stared at Dawn, unblinking.  She snorted.

"I figured as much."

"Dawn, you have to listen to me."

"No, I really don't."  Dawn retrieved her cross from the ground and began to walk away.  She let out a small shriek as Angel grabbed her arm and spun her around.  Slightly frightened, she began to struggle, but Angel simply grabbed her other arm.  Dawn gulped, trying not to show how terrified she was.  She occasionally forgot how scary Angel could be.

"Dawn, you do have to listen to me.  I'm not going to let you do this."

Dawn knew that Angel expected her to respond, but she simply turned her head to the side so that she didn't have to look at him.  Angel sighed.

"Look, Dawn, I understand what you're going through."

"No.  You.  Don't."  Dawn bit her lip, afraid if she yelled at Angel that he might hurt her.

"You think that just because Buffy wasn't my sister that I didn't love her?  Dawn, I loved Buffy more than I've ever loved anyone in my entire life.  But I know that the reverse wasn't true for her, Dawn.  I know that there is someone who she loved more than me."

Against her better judgment, Dawn slowly turned her head so that she was looking at Angel once more.

"She loved you Dawn.  She loved you more than anything else."

Dawn sniffled, trying to fight the tears that she knew were coming.

"Do you know why she died, Dawn?"

"Because she jumped off the tower."

"Dawn."

"Fine.  She died to save the world."

Angel shook his head.  "No.  Dawn, if it was a choice between your death and the end of the world, Buffy would have chosen you, Dawn.  She would have let the world end rather than letting you die."

Dawn had given up fighting the tears that were streaming down her face.

"Then what did she – "

"Dawn, Buffy jumped off of that tower so that you could live.  The last thoughts she had were of you.  She did not end her own life so that you could get sucked dry by some nameless demon in the middle of the night."

Dawn was now crying so hard that she barely felt Angel wrap his arms around her as she fell to the ground.  He sank down with her, cradling her against his chest.

"Don't do this, Dawn.  Don't let Buffy's death go to waste."

Angel let her cry until gradually her sobs faded into hiccups.  He helped her climb to her feet.

"Come on.  Let's get you back home."

Dawn nodded, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed that she had just cried all over her sister's ex-boyfriend.  Angel didn't say anything during the walk home, and Dawn could feel her face becoming more flushed by the minute.  Finally, they reached the Summer's backyard.

"So how'd you sneak out?"

Dawn still couldn't meet his eye.  "Window.  Tree."

"Nothing like the classics."

Dawn looked at him out of the corner of her eye, and saw that he was giving her a tiny smile.  Hesitantly, she smiled back.  Angel reached over and picked her up.  Before Dawn could ask him what he was doing, Angel had leapt up the roof and was gently setting her down next to her window.

"Cool!  Spike never does that."

Angel's features hardened.  "Dawn, listen to me.  Stay away from Spike, okay?"

"Why should I?  He's good now."

"Trust me Dawn.  He's not.  Now come on, let's go inside."  Angel was lifting her up and through the window.  He climbed in after her.

"But –"

"Dawn, just trust me on this one, ok?  He's not good.  He just has a chip in his head.  Two very different things.  Now get into bed."

Dawn wanted to argue, but suddenly she felt very tired.  Reluctantly, she climbed into bed.  Angel helped her arrange the covers.

"Angel?"

"What is it, Dawn?"

"I know – I know that when you bring people back, they come out wrong, but isn't there some way that maybe we could –"

"No."  Angel gently stroked Dawn's cheek.  "I'm sorry, Dawn."

Dawn nodded, and lowered her eyes so that she wouldn't have to let Angel see that she was crying.  She saw Angel lean over her, and felt him gently place a kiss on her forehead.

"You have people who love you Dawn.  Willow, Xander, Giles – they all love you, and they're here for you." 

By the time Dawn looked up again, Angel had disappeared out the window.

Willow was making herself a cup of tea when she heard the knock.  Glancing up, she saw Angel standing outside the kitchen door.  Willow walked across the room and let herself outside.

"Is anyone else up?" 

Willow shook her head, rubbing her arms to fight off a sudden chill.  "No, we all went to bed a few hours ago.  I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so I made some tea."

Angel nodded.  "I just wanted to tell you that I'm leaving."

"Back to LA?"

"No."  Angel blinked a few times, and stared vacantly at a spot somewhere behind Willow's head.  "No.  I need some time alone to sort out some stuff.  If you need anything, you can call Wesley or Cordelia."

"Ok."  Willow shuffled her feet back and forth, not sure what to say.

"Look, Willow, I'm not going to pretend that things are supposed to be great here.  But I'm worried about Dawn.  You guys need to keep a better watch on her."

Willow felt herself getting slightly irritated.  "We are keeping a watch on her.  She's upstairs sleeping in her room."

"Two hours ago, she was at the cemetery.  I saved her from being attacked by a vampire by about thirty seconds."

Willow took a moment to recover.  "What?"

"I think that I got through to her.  But you have to monitor her."

Willow nodded, slightly dumbfounded that Dawn had managed to sneak out without any of them noticing.  "Okay."

"Willow, you have to make me two promises.  First of all, you have to promise to leave Spike out of any decisions you make.  Especially ones about Dawn.  I know you guys work with him now, and I can't do anything about that.  But he's not good, Willow.  He just can't hurt people.  Promise me you'll keep him out of the loop."

Willow nodded.

"Secondly, you have to promise me that you will keep Dawn away from resurrection spells.  Buffy told me that she tried to bring back Joyce, and if Dawn tried a spell to bring back Buffy, it would go very long."

"Yeah, Dawn wouldn't be able to do that right…" Willow trailed off at the end of the sentence, frowning slightly.  Noticing Angel's stare, she spoke again.  "I promise, Angel.  Both."

"Good."  Angel leaned over and lightly embraced Willow.  Willow hugged him back, wishing that she didn't feel so awkward.

"Goodbye, Willow."  Willow watched as Angel walked briskly out of the small patch of light streaming from the kitchen.  Soon, he had entirely blended into the darkness. 

Willow shook herself out of her reverie.  Turning around, she re-entered the kitchen, and then closed and locked the door.  She went back to making her tea, already planning on how she was going to keep both of Angel's promises.