Song fic time, hurrah! My first songfic, so be nice! I decided to use "Real Life" from Tick, Tick…Boom! Jonathan Larson, btw. Hoohah. Anwayz, not a real point, just some CollinsAngel stuff that I thought of…enjoy, I hope! Oh, and thanks to L Ducky for making me think of "Real Life" in the first place. luvvies!

Sunlight

Through the window

Across from your bed

Beauty is still, can you see it?

Collins felt himself slide into consciousness as the air around him shifted, a breath of wind wafting in from an open window. Stretching, Collins was about to sit up when he realized that Angel, who so often rose well before the sun was up, was somehow still asleep, her slender body curled up beside him. She wore a tank top and pajama pants not unlike Roger's favorite pair, although they were bright yellow instead of plaid. Careful not to wake her with his actions, he turned onto his side until Angel's face was inches from his and her warm, slow breath played over his skin like a gentle breeze.

Collins smiled as he looked at her. So often Angel's face was shaped by some emotion or movement; laughter, words, excitement, sadness. But now she was calm, and her features had fallen into the stunning natural curves and contours that he had glimpsed months ago, on the night they met. Her cheekbones were beautifully raised, the slightly raspberry skin of her cheeks smooth and soft-looking. Lips, bare of any traces of lipstick, were slightly darker than her mocha complexion, a warm comforting brown that flowed into her skin tone. Her jaw was elegant, not too pointed and not too square, and there was a very, very light shadow on it that he knew would disappear as soon as Angel entered the bathroom. Sunlight from the open window across the room poured onto her face, making it glow with something that seemed not quite from this world.

Collins lifted his hand and very gently ran it through the short black hair that covered the crown of Angel's head. It felt like the soft fur behind a cat's ear, or the silkiest, cleanest wool. Closing his eyes, Collins breathed in and immediately smelled her unmistakable scent; cloth, a hint of perfume from the day before, and something that was impossible to name. Something that was pure Angel.

He opened his eyes and looked at her again, just taking in the sweet serenity of her peacefulness. Angel had so much to miss and lose when she died, and though she never talked about it, Collins knew that there were many times where she had to fight off the pain of knowing her time was shorter than she ever deserved. But those worries, those hurtful thoughts were gone now, lost into the deep recesses of sleep. Angel was beautiful all the time; but now the true purity of it shown through.

Collins smiled again. Then, moving as slow as he could, he softly kissed the smooth skin of Angel's forehead.

What more can you want?

Is this real life?

Is this real life?

Her eyes slowly opened, dark and sparkling with light at the same time.

"Morning, honey," she said with a yawn, smiling at him.

Heartbeats of your children

Asleep in the next room

Trust so still, can you hear it?

" Maureen and Joanne are out cold, and I think Mimi and Roger are too," observed Angel, crossing her arms and surveying the scene. Maureen and Joanne were curled up together on one end of the loft couch, while Roger and Mimi were at the other. Mark sat in the middle, lolling over to lean against Roger's back. Every once in a while, he would mumble something and shift around, digging his chin deeper into Roger's spine. They were so picturesque, like little children cuddled up together after a night of activity. Angel and Collins, however, had other plans.

" Mark's not really asleep yet, though, he might wake up."

"Oh, don't be so paranoid, Angel, they're all knocked out."

"But Colliiiiiiiiins, what if they wake up while, you know…"

"We're doing it?"

"Exactly. I mean, what would they think?"

"I think they'd find it funny."

"You're kidding."

" Maureen would, anyway. Mark might get a little upset, but he's Mark."

"Well…ok, fine, let's do it." And, grins plastered across their faces, Angel and Collins uncapped their Magic Markers and reached out towards their friends' faces.

What more can you want?

Is this real life?

Is this real life?

" Mimi, why the hell do you have purple flowers all over your face?"

" Maureen, for the love of god, why did you draw peace signs all over your head?"

" Roger, care to tell me why you look like you have blue chicken pox?"

"How about asking Collins and Angel where they got the markers?" shouted Mark, the big red word LOSER on his forehead crinkling up as he glared at the couple, who were rolling on the floor in hysterics.

Why do we seek out ecstasy in all the wrong places?

Why is it hard to see that heaven can have simpler faces?

" Mimi, you can't just—"

BANG! The door slammed shut as Mimi stormed out of Angel's apartment, her brown hair streaming out behind her. Angel stood still for a moment, then collapsed down onto the living room couch, her head in her hands. Breathing hard, she struggled not to cry.

"Baby, I…I heard what happened." Collins stepped into the room, looking slightly sheepish. When Angel didn't respond, he sat down next to her, one hand sliding around her shoulders. At his touch, Angel pulled her head out of her heads. She looked pale. Leaning into him, she closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing.

"I think I just had my first really huge fight with Mimi." Angel's voice was small, so different from the strong one she had just used. Collins sighed and pulled her a little closer.

"I know that must be hell for you. Angel, it…it was about the smack, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Collins, why can't she do it? I know Mimi better than anyone, and she could beat this hands down if she wanted to. Why can't she just get rid of this whole thing once and for all?"

"Baby, I know it sounds bad, but maybe Mimi doesn't…maybe she doesn't want to." Angel turned and looked up at him with bewildered eyes.

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't she—"

"I think that a part of her feels like this is the only way to feel good about herself. When she's high, I think it's like she rises above Roger and Benny and all that and just lets it go. And I don't think she wants to get rid of that."

"Oh god…I just want this to be over, I want the old Mimi back." Angel wouldn't let herself cry about this. She didn't like to cry. But as Collins watched her, dullness came into her eyes, and she relaxed against him, the weariness of this mess wrapping around her body like a shroud.

Warm breath of an Angel

Awake next to you

Love so still, can you feel it?

Collins felt the heat in the room, the heat rising from both of them as they lay together, her on top of him, kissing and touching and moving and loving so much…Frenzied movement, hands flashing, tongues dancing, skin shivering. It was all a blur, a blur of so much emotion and feeling that he couldn't grasp it; he couldn't see it in the crystal clear way he could see so well with other things. It was only a vague sense, so heavy and intense that he was enveloped in it, lost himself to it.

Her bare chest pressed hard against his as she kissed his fiercely, panted breaths and slight moans creating rhythm. He ran his hands over her back and her sides and the backs of her legs, the silky smoothness of the skin brushing against his worn fingers. She in turn gripped his shoulders, hands tight and certain with love.

Angel pulled back suddenly, eyes opening to reveal smoldering passion. Hardly a whisper, more like a controlled breath, she said into his ear, "God, I love you."

He cupped her face in his hands, breathing hard.

"Do I even need to say it?"

"No…"

"I love you, Angel." She grinned at him, and he could still feel the smile on her lips as they meshed together again, tongues jumping into each other's mouths, arms embracing, hands stroking, souls loving.

What more do you want?

Is this real life?

Is this real life?