Angel looked at her, incredulous. "Right, I'm gonna go and get something to clear that up for you."

He walked towards the bathroom, shaking his head slightly.

Buffy had shifted somewhat when he returned; her head lay resting against the top of the suite, masses of blonde hair standing out against the black leather. For a second Angel just stood still staring at her, before reality got the better of him.

"Try not to move too much. You'll aggravate the wound."

Breaking eye contact, Buffy cleared her throat, the intensity of his gaze making her feel vulnerable and exposed. She moved her hand and started to undo the shirt she was wearing, but was stopped by Angel, who took her hand and slowly moved it away;

"Let me." His voice was low. Buffy closed her eyes, desperately trying not to focus on how near he was, how gentle his touch was as he unbuttoned her shirt, his fingers, feather light, examining the area around her injury.

With excruciating care Angel began to dress the wound, his fingers trembling slightly. When he finished he let his hand linger for a moment, before bringing it up to rest on her shoulder. Buffy looked into his eyes, darker than they had been a few minutes ago, and whispered his name, giving him the permission he was silently asking for. Her eyes closed and all rational thought dissolved as Angel's lips softly met hers.

After what could have been a second or an eternity, Angel pulled away; it was too soon and they both knew it. With some effort Angel removed himself from her embrace and chose to sit in the much safer one piece just to the left of the sofa. Buffy gave him a small appreciative smile, before tentatively touching her now bandaged stomach and steadying herself.

"So do you wanna tell me how you got that stab wound?"

Buffy reached for her coffee and absently ran her fingers around the rim and over the handle as she began to retell Sunnydale's final battle. Angel said very little while Buffy was talking, choosing instead to let her speak freely; he'd missed her.

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Buffy stood in front of Spike, staring at him, still holding her scythe.

"No, you've done enough. You could still-"

"No, you've beat them back. It's for me to do the cleanup. Gotta move, lamb. I think it's fair to say school's out for bloody summer."

"Spike!" Buffy shouted; the worry in her voice growing.

"I mean it! I gotta do this."

Spike held out his hand to stop her. Swallowing her tears Buffy laced her fingers through his and closed her eyes.

"It wasn't meant for me." A voice whispered in Buffy's ear, the warm breath tickling the back of her neck. Startled she opened her eyes, and froze as she saw that it was Angel in front of her bursting into flames.

"Angel?" Powerless Buffy watched as Angel slowly, agonisingly turned to dust; the last thing she saw, his sad smile. Numb, she looked at her hand which had been holding his just seconds before; it was still burning.

Buffy woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. She glanced at the clock on her left: 4:30, still feeling a little uneasy from the dream she crept out of the room to get a glass of water.

As she turned on the tap Buffy felt a hand on her shoulder, she flinched and pulled away.

Angel looked at her concerned. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh…erm yeah. I just couldn't sleep. Decided to get a drink." she said holding up her glass.

He nodded, he'd checked in on Buffy and heard her calling out in her sleep but decided not to press it.

"You look cold." he said as he noticed her shiver a little. "Let me put the fire on for a few minutes. Get you warmed up."

"Okay."

Buffy followed Angel into the sitting area where they had been the night before and watched him light the fire. For a moment neither of them knew quite what to do, sensing Buffy's hesitation Angel sat on the floor leaning against the sofa, silently motioning her to do the same. Feeling more comfortable she sat in his lap and subconsciously rested her head against his chest, he smiled lightly and placed his hands over hers.

"Angel?" she whispered closing her eyes.

"Hmmm?"

"I've missed you."

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When Buffy awoke for the second time that morning, she was surprised to find herself on the sofa wrapped in a blanket. She sat up yawning; she noticed that the fire had been turned off. On the table in front of her was a neatly folded pile of clothes. She picked them up; holding them out for inspection.

"Are they okay?"

"Oh. Angel hey." she said looking up at him, "Yeah…they're…where did you get them?"

"Actually they're Cordelia's." He looked down.

"Oh." She looked away from him.

"We had to move her stuff out of her apartment, I said I'd keep some of it. "

"Where's she staying?"

"The hospital. She's in a coma." He finished quietly.

Buffy quickly looked back up at him "I'm sorry…I didn't realise."

"I guess I'll go and …" Said Buffy motioning to the bathroom, her voice breaking the heavy silence that had followed her last sentence.

"Buffy?"

She turned to face him.

"Do you maybe wanna go and get a cup of coffee, some breakfast when you're ready? I don't really have that much here."

Buffy smiled. "I'd love too."

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A/N: Thank you to everyone who gave some feedback and I'm sorry it took me so long to write this next chapter (I'm still a bit unhappy with it in places. Sigh.)