Authors note: Oh man. I'm sorry it took me a while to update. A lots been going on and this fanfiction was kind of neglected. It might seem rushed—mostly because it is. I'm trying to get this one over and done with, so that I can focus on my newer one that I've just started writing. I think its gunna be better than this one. Longer chapters, better quality, all that jazz.

Thanks to everyone for reviewing. Keep it up because it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside J

"Can this really happen?" Buffy asked, her voice nearly inaudible, as sobs shook her body. Angel's strong arms were the only thing keeping her from falling. Just his presence comforted her, and she was grateful for that comfort. "I'm dreaming." She stated suddenly. "And soon I'm going to wake up in that field in your arms. This is all just a dream—no a nightmare. This is a nightmare. Please wake me up, Angel. Please." She begged. The helpless tone of her voice broke his heart. He wanted to tell her it really was a dream, and that she'd wake up soon. He wanted to tell her that she'd wake up in his arms, and he'd be able to tell her everything was alright. But he couldn't bring himself to lie to her. So he didn't speak at all. He let his hands stroke her back and hair, and he let her cry on his shoulder. He kept his eyes alert, incase the one who'd done this to their home was still here, but he doubted they were.

"We should leave." Angel stated suddenly. Buffy forced herself to look up at him. He was smiling. "Come on. We can gather a few things, and then just go. We can stay at a hotel. A nice hotel, with a pool, and an ice skating rink near by. You like ice skating, I remember. It'll be great. We can get room service in the morning so we don't have to even leave bed. And I'll make sure the pool is heated, and we can swim at night. And during the day you can teach me to ice skate. It'll be wonderful, so let's go." She couldn't help but smile with him. The ridiculousness of the whole thing struck her heart, and she was in awe of him, and how much he'd give for her. She knew in that moment that anything she wanted he would get for her, even if he had to die trying to get it. "Come on. Let's just get out of here." He finally finished. She held tighter to him, the tears coming again, though this time they were less tears of despair, and more just tears because she loved him so much. And he was crying too, now. Not loudly like her, but salty tears streaked down his cheeks. She noted that the smile was struggling to stay on his lips; she knew it was for her. He didn't want to worry her, but his dumbly smiling state was worrying her more than she already was. She gave a small nod.

"Okay. Yeah. Let's go." She nodded again. She dropped the note. It fell like a feather, floating so elegantly for something so evil. The picture that had forced Buffy to tears fell from it, a picture of her mother. Not just any picture of her mother, though, it was the picture Ted had taken to his work place, the one with her in it… but she wasn't in it before. The person who'd done this had blocked Buffy's face out of it in drippy red paint that looked like blood. The note had read, in the same red paint, "No one leaves me, lover." Before she had a chance to look down, or to even think about it again, Angel had latched his hand around hers, and was leading her to the bedroom, so they could gather up their most important belongings, before looking for a hotel. Angel did most of the packing, gathering her clothes, the ones that were her favorites… and a few of his own favorites. Two bags were hers, and one was his. He looked over at her where she was sitting on the bed, looking utterly helpless and alone, like a lost child in a mall. He wanted to help her more, he wanted to hold her and steal all the pain away. He'd rather be the one to carry the pain. It made him feel horrible, just seeing her like this. As he walked over to her she stood, thinking he was coming over to get her so they could leave, but she soon found she was wrong, as his lips roughly pressed against hers, his hands on her hips. She was caught off guard, but as soon as she'd realized what was happening she put her arms around his neck. Neither one of them was willing to pull away… until Buffy did.

"Stop, stop." She begged as Angel had moved on to kissing her neck. He obeyed, his eyes staring at the floor now, unable to bring himself to look at her and not kiss her in that moment. "Jesus, what am I saying? God, Angel, please don't stop." She put her arms back around his neck, crushing her lips against his. They stayed like that for a long while, Buffy pouring every ounce of pain into that one passionate kiss. Some how Angel had known it would help, just kissing. It seemed like the best therapy for her at that moment, and it was helping. So they stayed like that, not getting in bed, or undressing, not lustful kissing, not filled with the fiery heat, but passion, loving, and tender passion. He took the world away for her. In his arms, so close to him, she felt safe, like nothing could ever touch her here. Sometimes she wanted to live here in his arms. The kiss ended, leaving both of them breathless. Buffy's forehead softly rested in the nape of his neck, as they both breathed deeply for a long moment. "Time to go." He finally murmured in a breathy voice.