A/N: This is a re-post. I originally started this story with a co-author,
but he is no longer writing in the fandom. As a result, I will be
reposting/rewriting/continuing the story by myself. The only changes mad
to this chapter have been for grammar, spelling, and the occasional stupid
line. Thanks to Ferris Valyn for his help on this chapter.
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Buffy stared up at the incredibly large building that loomed above her. As she debated whether or not to enter the building, Buffy recalled everything that had happened in the last month. Everything that had happened since the First had tried to end the world. Everything that had led her to this doorway. Once the aftermath of the battle had settled, she had set about getting herself a normal life. Now that the final battle with the first was over, she had developed a passion for a normal life.
Buffy, along with Dawn, Willow, and Xander had used the insurance money from their Sunnydale losses and bought a small four-bedroom house for themselves. Giles, though he was torn about it, had gone back to England. Someone had to rebuild the Watcher's Council now that all the former potential slayers were running around with actual slayer powers. Andrew and Amanda had gone with him, Andrew acting as his personal assistant. All Buffy cared about was that Andrew was no longer living in her house. One more day with him, and she might have ripped out all of her hair. Giles wasn't as thrilled, understandably. Kennedy had decided, much to Willow's dismay, to attend college back East. Willow hadn't heard from the brunette since. Faith had gotten a full pardon with Giles' help. After her day in court, she and Robin had lit out of Sunnydale, taking Spike's motorcycle. Their plan was to ride from town to town, helping those in need, and sending any Slayers that wanted on their way to merry old London. Buffy admired them for it, but part of her was glad that she wasn't going.
The surviving potentials had all gone their separate ways as well; back to whatever lives they could devise for themselves. Buffy knew that with Giles' help, they would be able to do anything. Buffy had enlisted Giles to help her as well. He'd gotten her a job, counseling at one of the local college campuses. She was pretty good at it, and it paid better than the DoubleMeat Palace and Sunnydale High combined. Dawn worked part-time as her secretary, leaving plenty of time for summer hi-jinks with some old friends she'd looked up.
Buffy gave the building another once over. She looked down at the folder she clutched in her hands, the reason for her visit to this place. Steeling her slayer nerves, she grasped the handle of the door and swung it inward. Buffy walked forward uncertainly, unsure of where to go. She approached what appeared to be a main desk, as she tried to take in her surroundings. A pleasant voice spoke up from behind the desk.
"Can I help you?" The southern accent drawled. Perplexed, Buffy leaned over the counter, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. She spotted the voice's owner, a pretty brunette who was tinkering with some sort of machinery. I hope so, Buffy thought.
"I'm looking for Angel." She said to the woman, who appeared to be about her age. The woman started and gave Buffy her full attention.
"It's you!" The girl exclaimed. Buffy narrowed her eyes. Did she know this girl? "You have the funny name.... I know that much. Oh, what is it?" The brunette thought for a moment, her sentence dwindling into unintelligible muttering. Buffy hesitated, not sure if the girl was a threat or just very confused. "Buffy!" The girl cried out, slapping the counter in her joy at remembering. Buffy jumped. "Sorry." She giggled a little hysterically. "I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm Fred. I work with Angel." She told Buffy.
"Oh." Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.
"I can take you to him?" Fred offered.
"Sure, thanks." She replied. I have a funny name?, Buffy thought to herself. Well, at least she didn't say I had stupid hair, she thought, running a finger over the folder gently and thinking of Spike. Fred picked up the device she was working on, straightened her clothing, and led Buffy to the elevator. Fred began talking as they entered.
"I think he'll be pretty excited to see you." Fred told her, pushing the button for Angel's floor. Fred began rambling, but Buffy tuned her out. She concentrated on what exactly she was going to say to Angel when she saw him. Their last conversation had been interesting, and now that Spike was dead, she wasn't sure what to say to Angel. Gripping her folder more firmly, she wondered idly if she was leaving finger imprints on it. The elevator opened, and Buffy stepped out. She thanked Fred, who stammered all over herself.
"Another door." Buffy said aloud, her voice almost booming in the silence of the hall. She debated whether or not to knock, when the door whipped open in front of her. She and Angel stared at one another for what felt like years, but was in truth a matter of moments. Then Buffy was in his arms, crying as if her heart was breaking. And it was.
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Dawn walked idly down the sidewalk of a busy L.A. street. She had just left her friends at the local diner, and was headed back to her house. Their new house wasn't far from much. Dawn knew she'd be walking to school when the year started. Buffy had taken up their training again, but since there were so many slayers walking around, she wasn't as concerned about patrolling. Buffy only patrolled a couple of nights a week, and all of them were enjoying the fact that they weren't in grave danger every second. She turned the corner, and headed up the drive of their house. Buffy's car wasn't there, which meant that the next chapter in the Buffy and Angel saga had begun. Dawn wondered how that was going. She knew that Buffy had loved Spike in the end. They'd had a long talk about it one night, when Buffy had been feeling particularly low. Opening the door, she called out to see if anyone was home.
"Willow, Xander? Anyone home?" Dawn said, her voice raised. Hearing no reply, she shrugged out of her jacket and hung it in the closet. Willow and Xander must still be out shopping for groceries, she thought, heading up the stairs. Taking a quick shower to wash the heat and grime of the day away, Dawn changed into cotton shorts and spaghetti strap camisole top. She settled her self on her bed, reveling in the newness of it. She'd changed her favorite color. It had been purple, and her room in Sunnydale had had purple everywhere. This room was a pale, icy blue. Dawn had changed, grown up. Purple just didn't suit her anymore. She cracked open her journal and began writing about her outing with her friend, and then yawned widely. Shutting her journal, she decided she'd be better off taking a nap while everyone was out. Dawn lay back on her pillow, and her eyes drifted shut. With in moments, she was asleep.
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Connor sighed, looking his girlfriend Tracy in the eye. She had just told him that they were moving too fast, and she wanted to slow things down. He was getting ready to go off to college soon, and as callous as it sounded, he was ready to sleep with his girlfriend. She gave him a small smile, checking to see if he would be mad at her. Connor smiled back after a moment, letting her know everything would be all right between them.
"It's all right. I can wait." He said, rolling onto his side. They were stretched on his bed, the door to his bedroom shut. His parents and two little sisters had gone to the L.A. City Zoo, leaving him home to start packing for college. Connor had used this time to try to seduce his girlfriend instead. He grinned sheepishly, and her smiled widened. He kissed her, and then hugged her tightly. He was almost positive he loved her, though he'd yet to say it. They'd been together nearly a year, and while she'd said it to him several times, Connor hadn't figured out if he was in love or not. They were going to the same college, UCLA, and Connor couldn't wait for that. He'd tell her eventually. "Is it all right if we just sleep?" He asked her, wanting to be close to her for as long as possible. When his parents and sisters came home, they'd have to be social, and he'd still have to start packing. Not to mention they'd flip if they found him alone in his room with a member of the opposite sex.
"That would be good." She said, as they settled themselves. Connor wrapped her in his arms, and fell soundly asleep.
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Dawn was dreaming, of that she was sure. Everything else, however, was a mystery. She didn't recognize her surroundings, or the clothes she was wearing. The room, if it was a room, was very dark. Dawn could barely make out any objects in the soft candlelight. She peered into the darkness, only to see the shadows. The bed she lay upon was huge, magnificent, and definitely nothing like her own. She stared down at the nightgown she was wearing. It was long, midnight blue, and made from a silky material. The sheer, flowing sleeves of the gown gave her a majestic quality. Her hair cascaded down her back, almost gleaming in the dim lighting. She was lounged on the bed, as if she had been posed that way. Suffice to say, any normal girl would be expecting Brad Pitt to magically appear. However Dawn wasn't a normal girl, so when a door suddenly appeared on the other side of the room she knew very well she wasn't that lucky. Just the same she found herself half hoping it would be Brad. Her breathing escalated as the door swung slowly open. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to move away, but a tiny voice in her head reassured her that there was nothing to fear.
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Connor stared blankly at the door in front of him. It appeared to be a normal hallway, but he didn't recognize it at all. He hesitated at the door. He really wanted to turn and walk away from it, to leave this place that was haunting his dreams, unfortunately his feet stubbornly refused to cooperate. He glanced down at them, looking for anything holding him in place, and realized that he wasn't wearing the same clothes he'd gone to sleep in. He was dressed in a midnight blue pajamas set instead. Confused, he scratched his head. His shaggy hair fell into his eyes, and he swiftly pushed it back. He tried moving down the hallway, but no matter how far he moved, he seemed to remain in front of the door. It was quickly becoming apparent that if he wanted to get this dream over with he needed to go through the door. He grasped the handle, and turned it decisively. It opened into what appeared to be a dimly lit bedroom. The room's only light seemed to pool around the enormous bed, which held the most beautiful creature Connor had ever seen.
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Dawn tried to control her breathing as she caught sight of the dark haired young man framed dramatically in the now open door. His hair was shaggy and it hung in his face. That face however, more than made up for the haircut. She stared into his soulful chocolate brown eyes, nearly drowning in their depths as he moved almost catlike towards her. She noted absently that he made almost no sound as he crossed the room. As he approached the bed her gaze caught his mouth, full and soft looking. For his part Connor was doing his share of staring as well. He was mesmerized as he took in the way her hair glistened and her eyes sparkled in the candlelight. Her face was flawless in the glow of the candles. As he shuffled slowly to her a whispered voice somewhere in the back of his mind urged him onward. As Connor reached the edge of the bed, Dawn shifted to kneel in front of him. Automatically their hands connected, fingers interlacing seemingly of their own accord. Neither said a word as she gently pulled him onto the bed with her. No words were necessary. They both hesitated for a moment, their faces inches apart, gazes locked, as they tried in vain to fight their feelings. Just one moment, and then his lips were on hers.
Dawn didn't know she could feel this way. At sixteen, one boy had only kissed her. He'd been a vampire, and she'd had to kill him. She needn't worry about that this time. This boy was very much alive. Dawn was lost in sensation. The feel of his lips, the smell of his hair, the touch of his hands. No matter what her rational brain was trying to tell her, she couldn't ignore that this felt very right. Connor was stunned at what he was feeling. He wasn't even sure he was doing everything right. He wanted to run, wanted to get very far away from this dark haired beauty, but every fiber in his being screamed that this was where he was supposed to be, this was what he was supposed to be doing. Him loving her, her loving him, and loving they were. They were lost to sensation in the candlelight, lost in the shadows twisting around them, lost to everything but each other. Every touch, every caress, a declaration. Their touches grew bolder, wilder with each passing moment. Soon, they were intimate with every part of each other, their ultimate connection made as they became one.
It was like time stopped. They were frozen here, in this place, with each other. Dawn felt like she was flying. Connor was in awe, previously unaware that anything could feel this way. When it ended, Connor rolled on his back, and pulled his dark haired beauty to him. He closed his eyes. Dawn closed hers too, wrapped in his arms.
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Connor opened his eyes to stare up at the white ceiling of his bedroom. He looked over at his girlfriend, who was sleeping soundly. He chalked the dream up to frustration; after all, he'd had to settle for sleep instead of sex. The dream unnerved just a little, though, as he tried to rationalize it. He was startled when one of his little sisters burst into his room while chattering to him loudly. His girlfriend awoke, looking sheepish. Connor spoke to his youngest sister, as she spotted his girlfriend lying on his bed.
"Don't tell Mom and Dad." He said, hoping to keep their coed nap secret. She scrunched her face up in thought, but eventually nodded.
"I won't if you take me to the mall later." She said, her eyes innocent looking. He ruffled her hair.
"Deal." He said.
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Dawn awoke with tears in her eyes, the sound of the front door shutting downstairs ringing in her ears. The dream had been beautiful, but she knew it wasn't real. She got up, and headed downstairs. Dawn was eager to see what Xander and Willow had bought at the store. Suddenly, she was having a craving for Cookie Dough Fudge Mint Chip.
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Buffy pulled herself together. Angel broke their hug to hand her a couple of tissues, and it was as she was drying her eyes that she noticed something extraordinary. Every corner of his office was bathed in sunlight.
"Oh my God, Angel!" She gasped, looking at him. He was glowing in the light, smiling the smile he only smiled at her.
"Special glass." He said, walking to one of the windows and tapping it. He looked at her from head to toe. Self conscious, Buffy gave herself a once over. Was there something wrong with her outfit? "I was right. You are more beautiful in the daylight." Angel continued. He walked over to her, his eyes mirroring the sadness in her own.
"You look pretty good yourself." She said, blushing as he approached.
"What's wrong that you came all the way down here and cried on my shoulder?" He wanted to know, directing her to sit down on his couch. She sat, suddenly uncomfortable. She was still clutching her folder, holding onto it as if it were her lifeline. He followed her gaze to it, and gently pried it from her hands.
"It's Spike." She volunteered. "I've only now managed to work up the nerve to come down here and tell you. He didn't make it Angel. Spike died saving the world." Buffy continued. Angel looked up at her, surprise in his eyes. "I thought I'd return this while I was at it." She said, holding out the folder. Angel recognized it. He took the folder from her, set it on the desk, and then met her gaze. Gone was the sorrowful gaze, replaced with anger. "I've read it. Front to back, as many times as I could in the last couple of weeks. I wanna know if you knew he was going to die when you gave me that amulet. Did you give it to me on purpose, knowing it would kill whoever wore it?" Buffy demanded.
"Buffy, I..." Angel tried to come up with an answer.
"Save it, Angel. You knew I wouldn't let you wear it. You knew. You sent Spike off to his death!" She cried out.
"Buffy." He said softly. "I'm sorry, but Spike knew there could be risks, and he wore the amulet anyway."
"I know." She finally admitted, looking at him. He could see the tears shining in her eyes. Angel picked up the folder, and slid the packet of information into his hand. The folder was upside down at this point, and they both jumped when something fell out and made a small thump on the carpet. They stared down at the object, as it glistened in the sunlight. Angel picked it up.
"It's a key." He said.
"Ok, that wasn't in there when I left the house this morning." Buffy replied, taking it from him. Angel looked at the sheath of papers in his hand. On top of the stack was a letter addressed to Buffy. Angel looked up at her, and then began reading it aloud.
"Dear Ms. Summers." He started. "It has come to our attention the owner of one of our safety deposit boxes, Mr. William "Spike" Bloody, has recently passed on. In accordance with our policies, we are notifying you, the contact stated on our paperwork, and delivering the key to the box. We request that you make an appointment as soon as possible to clean out the box." Angel stopped reading.
"Spike had a safety deposit box?" Buffy replied. "This just got a little bit weirder."
"If you want, I'll go down with you when you open it. Just let me know when you're appointment is." Angel offered. She nodded, pocketing the key.
"Well." Buffy began awkwardly. "I should..."She trailed off.
"Go." Angel finished her sentence in a whisper.
"Yeah." She replied, staring at her shoes. He got up and pulled her into a hug.
"Call me when you find out about your appointment with the bank." Angel reminded her. She walked over to the door.
"I will. Thanks." Buffy said. She turned the doorknob, opened the door and let herself out. Angel stood there, staring at where she'd been standing a moment ago, clutching the book in his hands. Sunlight bathed him, making him appear to glow.
Buffy rested against the door in the hall, waiting on the elevator. She needed to get home to Dawn, and prepare for tomorrow. Her stomach growled loudly, and Buffy hoped that Dawn wouldn't have eaten all the ice cream before she got home.
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Buffy stared up at the incredibly large building that loomed above her. As she debated whether or not to enter the building, Buffy recalled everything that had happened in the last month. Everything that had happened since the First had tried to end the world. Everything that had led her to this doorway. Once the aftermath of the battle had settled, she had set about getting herself a normal life. Now that the final battle with the first was over, she had developed a passion for a normal life.
Buffy, along with Dawn, Willow, and Xander had used the insurance money from their Sunnydale losses and bought a small four-bedroom house for themselves. Giles, though he was torn about it, had gone back to England. Someone had to rebuild the Watcher's Council now that all the former potential slayers were running around with actual slayer powers. Andrew and Amanda had gone with him, Andrew acting as his personal assistant. All Buffy cared about was that Andrew was no longer living in her house. One more day with him, and she might have ripped out all of her hair. Giles wasn't as thrilled, understandably. Kennedy had decided, much to Willow's dismay, to attend college back East. Willow hadn't heard from the brunette since. Faith had gotten a full pardon with Giles' help. After her day in court, she and Robin had lit out of Sunnydale, taking Spike's motorcycle. Their plan was to ride from town to town, helping those in need, and sending any Slayers that wanted on their way to merry old London. Buffy admired them for it, but part of her was glad that she wasn't going.
The surviving potentials had all gone their separate ways as well; back to whatever lives they could devise for themselves. Buffy knew that with Giles' help, they would be able to do anything. Buffy had enlisted Giles to help her as well. He'd gotten her a job, counseling at one of the local college campuses. She was pretty good at it, and it paid better than the DoubleMeat Palace and Sunnydale High combined. Dawn worked part-time as her secretary, leaving plenty of time for summer hi-jinks with some old friends she'd looked up.
Buffy gave the building another once over. She looked down at the folder she clutched in her hands, the reason for her visit to this place. Steeling her slayer nerves, she grasped the handle of the door and swung it inward. Buffy walked forward uncertainly, unsure of where to go. She approached what appeared to be a main desk, as she tried to take in her surroundings. A pleasant voice spoke up from behind the desk.
"Can I help you?" The southern accent drawled. Perplexed, Buffy leaned over the counter, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. She spotted the voice's owner, a pretty brunette who was tinkering with some sort of machinery. I hope so, Buffy thought.
"I'm looking for Angel." She said to the woman, who appeared to be about her age. The woman started and gave Buffy her full attention.
"It's you!" The girl exclaimed. Buffy narrowed her eyes. Did she know this girl? "You have the funny name.... I know that much. Oh, what is it?" The brunette thought for a moment, her sentence dwindling into unintelligible muttering. Buffy hesitated, not sure if the girl was a threat or just very confused. "Buffy!" The girl cried out, slapping the counter in her joy at remembering. Buffy jumped. "Sorry." She giggled a little hysterically. "I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm Fred. I work with Angel." She told Buffy.
"Oh." Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.
"I can take you to him?" Fred offered.
"Sure, thanks." She replied. I have a funny name?, Buffy thought to herself. Well, at least she didn't say I had stupid hair, she thought, running a finger over the folder gently and thinking of Spike. Fred picked up the device she was working on, straightened her clothing, and led Buffy to the elevator. Fred began talking as they entered.
"I think he'll be pretty excited to see you." Fred told her, pushing the button for Angel's floor. Fred began rambling, but Buffy tuned her out. She concentrated on what exactly she was going to say to Angel when she saw him. Their last conversation had been interesting, and now that Spike was dead, she wasn't sure what to say to Angel. Gripping her folder more firmly, she wondered idly if she was leaving finger imprints on it. The elevator opened, and Buffy stepped out. She thanked Fred, who stammered all over herself.
"Another door." Buffy said aloud, her voice almost booming in the silence of the hall. She debated whether or not to knock, when the door whipped open in front of her. She and Angel stared at one another for what felt like years, but was in truth a matter of moments. Then Buffy was in his arms, crying as if her heart was breaking. And it was.
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Dawn walked idly down the sidewalk of a busy L.A. street. She had just left her friends at the local diner, and was headed back to her house. Their new house wasn't far from much. Dawn knew she'd be walking to school when the year started. Buffy had taken up their training again, but since there were so many slayers walking around, she wasn't as concerned about patrolling. Buffy only patrolled a couple of nights a week, and all of them were enjoying the fact that they weren't in grave danger every second. She turned the corner, and headed up the drive of their house. Buffy's car wasn't there, which meant that the next chapter in the Buffy and Angel saga had begun. Dawn wondered how that was going. She knew that Buffy had loved Spike in the end. They'd had a long talk about it one night, when Buffy had been feeling particularly low. Opening the door, she called out to see if anyone was home.
"Willow, Xander? Anyone home?" Dawn said, her voice raised. Hearing no reply, she shrugged out of her jacket and hung it in the closet. Willow and Xander must still be out shopping for groceries, she thought, heading up the stairs. Taking a quick shower to wash the heat and grime of the day away, Dawn changed into cotton shorts and spaghetti strap camisole top. She settled her self on her bed, reveling in the newness of it. She'd changed her favorite color. It had been purple, and her room in Sunnydale had had purple everywhere. This room was a pale, icy blue. Dawn had changed, grown up. Purple just didn't suit her anymore. She cracked open her journal and began writing about her outing with her friend, and then yawned widely. Shutting her journal, she decided she'd be better off taking a nap while everyone was out. Dawn lay back on her pillow, and her eyes drifted shut. With in moments, she was asleep.
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Connor sighed, looking his girlfriend Tracy in the eye. She had just told him that they were moving too fast, and she wanted to slow things down. He was getting ready to go off to college soon, and as callous as it sounded, he was ready to sleep with his girlfriend. She gave him a small smile, checking to see if he would be mad at her. Connor smiled back after a moment, letting her know everything would be all right between them.
"It's all right. I can wait." He said, rolling onto his side. They were stretched on his bed, the door to his bedroom shut. His parents and two little sisters had gone to the L.A. City Zoo, leaving him home to start packing for college. Connor had used this time to try to seduce his girlfriend instead. He grinned sheepishly, and her smiled widened. He kissed her, and then hugged her tightly. He was almost positive he loved her, though he'd yet to say it. They'd been together nearly a year, and while she'd said it to him several times, Connor hadn't figured out if he was in love or not. They were going to the same college, UCLA, and Connor couldn't wait for that. He'd tell her eventually. "Is it all right if we just sleep?" He asked her, wanting to be close to her for as long as possible. When his parents and sisters came home, they'd have to be social, and he'd still have to start packing. Not to mention they'd flip if they found him alone in his room with a member of the opposite sex.
"That would be good." She said, as they settled themselves. Connor wrapped her in his arms, and fell soundly asleep.
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Dawn was dreaming, of that she was sure. Everything else, however, was a mystery. She didn't recognize her surroundings, or the clothes she was wearing. The room, if it was a room, was very dark. Dawn could barely make out any objects in the soft candlelight. She peered into the darkness, only to see the shadows. The bed she lay upon was huge, magnificent, and definitely nothing like her own. She stared down at the nightgown she was wearing. It was long, midnight blue, and made from a silky material. The sheer, flowing sleeves of the gown gave her a majestic quality. Her hair cascaded down her back, almost gleaming in the dim lighting. She was lounged on the bed, as if she had been posed that way. Suffice to say, any normal girl would be expecting Brad Pitt to magically appear. However Dawn wasn't a normal girl, so when a door suddenly appeared on the other side of the room she knew very well she wasn't that lucky. Just the same she found herself half hoping it would be Brad. Her breathing escalated as the door swung slowly open. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to move away, but a tiny voice in her head reassured her that there was nothing to fear.
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Connor stared blankly at the door in front of him. It appeared to be a normal hallway, but he didn't recognize it at all. He hesitated at the door. He really wanted to turn and walk away from it, to leave this place that was haunting his dreams, unfortunately his feet stubbornly refused to cooperate. He glanced down at them, looking for anything holding him in place, and realized that he wasn't wearing the same clothes he'd gone to sleep in. He was dressed in a midnight blue pajamas set instead. Confused, he scratched his head. His shaggy hair fell into his eyes, and he swiftly pushed it back. He tried moving down the hallway, but no matter how far he moved, he seemed to remain in front of the door. It was quickly becoming apparent that if he wanted to get this dream over with he needed to go through the door. He grasped the handle, and turned it decisively. It opened into what appeared to be a dimly lit bedroom. The room's only light seemed to pool around the enormous bed, which held the most beautiful creature Connor had ever seen.
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Dawn tried to control her breathing as she caught sight of the dark haired young man framed dramatically in the now open door. His hair was shaggy and it hung in his face. That face however, more than made up for the haircut. She stared into his soulful chocolate brown eyes, nearly drowning in their depths as he moved almost catlike towards her. She noted absently that he made almost no sound as he crossed the room. As he approached the bed her gaze caught his mouth, full and soft looking. For his part Connor was doing his share of staring as well. He was mesmerized as he took in the way her hair glistened and her eyes sparkled in the candlelight. Her face was flawless in the glow of the candles. As he shuffled slowly to her a whispered voice somewhere in the back of his mind urged him onward. As Connor reached the edge of the bed, Dawn shifted to kneel in front of him. Automatically their hands connected, fingers interlacing seemingly of their own accord. Neither said a word as she gently pulled him onto the bed with her. No words were necessary. They both hesitated for a moment, their faces inches apart, gazes locked, as they tried in vain to fight their feelings. Just one moment, and then his lips were on hers.
Dawn didn't know she could feel this way. At sixteen, one boy had only kissed her. He'd been a vampire, and she'd had to kill him. She needn't worry about that this time. This boy was very much alive. Dawn was lost in sensation. The feel of his lips, the smell of his hair, the touch of his hands. No matter what her rational brain was trying to tell her, she couldn't ignore that this felt very right. Connor was stunned at what he was feeling. He wasn't even sure he was doing everything right. He wanted to run, wanted to get very far away from this dark haired beauty, but every fiber in his being screamed that this was where he was supposed to be, this was what he was supposed to be doing. Him loving her, her loving him, and loving they were. They were lost to sensation in the candlelight, lost in the shadows twisting around them, lost to everything but each other. Every touch, every caress, a declaration. Their touches grew bolder, wilder with each passing moment. Soon, they were intimate with every part of each other, their ultimate connection made as they became one.
It was like time stopped. They were frozen here, in this place, with each other. Dawn felt like she was flying. Connor was in awe, previously unaware that anything could feel this way. When it ended, Connor rolled on his back, and pulled his dark haired beauty to him. He closed his eyes. Dawn closed hers too, wrapped in his arms.
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Connor opened his eyes to stare up at the white ceiling of his bedroom. He looked over at his girlfriend, who was sleeping soundly. He chalked the dream up to frustration; after all, he'd had to settle for sleep instead of sex. The dream unnerved just a little, though, as he tried to rationalize it. He was startled when one of his little sisters burst into his room while chattering to him loudly. His girlfriend awoke, looking sheepish. Connor spoke to his youngest sister, as she spotted his girlfriend lying on his bed.
"Don't tell Mom and Dad." He said, hoping to keep their coed nap secret. She scrunched her face up in thought, but eventually nodded.
"I won't if you take me to the mall later." She said, her eyes innocent looking. He ruffled her hair.
"Deal." He said.
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Dawn awoke with tears in her eyes, the sound of the front door shutting downstairs ringing in her ears. The dream had been beautiful, but she knew it wasn't real. She got up, and headed downstairs. Dawn was eager to see what Xander and Willow had bought at the store. Suddenly, she was having a craving for Cookie Dough Fudge Mint Chip.
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Buffy pulled herself together. Angel broke their hug to hand her a couple of tissues, and it was as she was drying her eyes that she noticed something extraordinary. Every corner of his office was bathed in sunlight.
"Oh my God, Angel!" She gasped, looking at him. He was glowing in the light, smiling the smile he only smiled at her.
"Special glass." He said, walking to one of the windows and tapping it. He looked at her from head to toe. Self conscious, Buffy gave herself a once over. Was there something wrong with her outfit? "I was right. You are more beautiful in the daylight." Angel continued. He walked over to her, his eyes mirroring the sadness in her own.
"You look pretty good yourself." She said, blushing as he approached.
"What's wrong that you came all the way down here and cried on my shoulder?" He wanted to know, directing her to sit down on his couch. She sat, suddenly uncomfortable. She was still clutching her folder, holding onto it as if it were her lifeline. He followed her gaze to it, and gently pried it from her hands.
"It's Spike." She volunteered. "I've only now managed to work up the nerve to come down here and tell you. He didn't make it Angel. Spike died saving the world." Buffy continued. Angel looked up at her, surprise in his eyes. "I thought I'd return this while I was at it." She said, holding out the folder. Angel recognized it. He took the folder from her, set it on the desk, and then met her gaze. Gone was the sorrowful gaze, replaced with anger. "I've read it. Front to back, as many times as I could in the last couple of weeks. I wanna know if you knew he was going to die when you gave me that amulet. Did you give it to me on purpose, knowing it would kill whoever wore it?" Buffy demanded.
"Buffy, I..." Angel tried to come up with an answer.
"Save it, Angel. You knew I wouldn't let you wear it. You knew. You sent Spike off to his death!" She cried out.
"Buffy." He said softly. "I'm sorry, but Spike knew there could be risks, and he wore the amulet anyway."
"I know." She finally admitted, looking at him. He could see the tears shining in her eyes. Angel picked up the folder, and slid the packet of information into his hand. The folder was upside down at this point, and they both jumped when something fell out and made a small thump on the carpet. They stared down at the object, as it glistened in the sunlight. Angel picked it up.
"It's a key." He said.
"Ok, that wasn't in there when I left the house this morning." Buffy replied, taking it from him. Angel looked at the sheath of papers in his hand. On top of the stack was a letter addressed to Buffy. Angel looked up at her, and then began reading it aloud.
"Dear Ms. Summers." He started. "It has come to our attention the owner of one of our safety deposit boxes, Mr. William "Spike" Bloody, has recently passed on. In accordance with our policies, we are notifying you, the contact stated on our paperwork, and delivering the key to the box. We request that you make an appointment as soon as possible to clean out the box." Angel stopped reading.
"Spike had a safety deposit box?" Buffy replied. "This just got a little bit weirder."
"If you want, I'll go down with you when you open it. Just let me know when you're appointment is." Angel offered. She nodded, pocketing the key.
"Well." Buffy began awkwardly. "I should..."She trailed off.
"Go." Angel finished her sentence in a whisper.
"Yeah." She replied, staring at her shoes. He got up and pulled her into a hug.
"Call me when you find out about your appointment with the bank." Angel reminded her. She walked over to the door.
"I will. Thanks." Buffy said. She turned the doorknob, opened the door and let herself out. Angel stood there, staring at where she'd been standing a moment ago, clutching the book in his hands. Sunlight bathed him, making him appear to glow.
Buffy rested against the door in the hall, waiting on the elevator. She needed to get home to Dawn, and prepare for tomorrow. Her stomach growled loudly, and Buffy hoped that Dawn wouldn't have eaten all the ice cream before she got home.