"Lorne! Are you home?" Buffy yelled, walking through her friend's house. If there was anyone with any insight as to how this was possible, it was him, and she desperately needed to find some sort of answer before she met Angel back at his place after work. His first date with Brynn was this evening and she knew if she wasn't there to push him, he would probably end up just calling to cancel, and that she couldn't have.

As much as she was finding that she enjoyed his company, it was all becoming a bit much. When all this was over, when her job was done, there was no doubt in her mind that she would miss him, but at this point it was best all around to get that ball rolling.

"Lorne," she shouted one more time before stomping up the spiral glass stairs to his bedroom. Sometimes she wondered how he hadn't managed to fall and snap his damn neck on the things, beautiful they were, functional they were not.

The door to Lorne's room flew open just as her feet lifted off the last step. "For pete's sake buttercup, some of us prefer to keep our eardrums intact," he sighed, looking down to make sure he'd managed to tighten the robe he'd barely had time to slide on.

Not giving him a chance to say anything further Buffy held the drawing out for him to see. "Do you see this," she demanded, "Is this some sort of joke, because I swear to the powers if you or Doyle are behind this little charade…"

Snatching the parchment from her fingers, his eyes widened at the image. Of all the things he expected to see it certainly wasn't this, though he had to admit it was a thing of beauty. "Now, now, sugarplum, I know I am a being of many talents, but I'm afraid drawing simply isn't one of them." If possible she watched as his eyes widened even further, "Oh my," he gaped, finally seeming to put some of it together. Holding the now slightly creased paper up, he glanced over in her direction. "Just what have you been up to that I need all sorts of juicy details about?"

Buffy growled, ignoring the playful and curious looks her friend had taken. She tapped her finger on the sketch quickly. "That! That is me... and yet... it can't be me, Lorne. That would be impossible. And wrong! And... well, a million other things that I can't even wrap my damn head around!" she snapped.

"Okay, okay. How about we just take it back a step or two and explain to me what is even happening here, hmm?"

Buffy let out an angry breath. "Angel drew this, and several others..." she told him, telling him about the whole section of the pieces all connected to this one. Lorne's eyebrows drew upward and she pointed her finger at him. "And no! In no way has he seen me in such a state," she told him before he could even go there.

Lorne glanced at the sketch in his green hands again. "Perhaps he was just fantasizing," Lorne offered.

"Well, first of all..." she started to spiel out into the fact he wouldn't have just conjured up some of the more intimate details depicted in them, some Lorne only even knew because of one night of passing around random, hidden information amongst themselves and just a few others they were close to just out of boredom and silliness and probably some of the alcohol Doyle had brought back from another realm, and then she moved on to the fact that Angel claimed he hadn't even been there or used his gift in some time, well before he would have ever even met her. Buffy felt angry tears threatening to spill out by the end of it. "Did you do this?" she asked again.

Lorne sighed, his head tilting. "Okay, well, first of all back to you there sweetheart... first of all why would I do something like this? And secondly, how in the hell would I or anyone else somehow put images or whatever into the brain of this random man? I don't know what exactly you think I am capable of but that is not on my list of powers."

"Then... how?"

"We don't know who they chose until we do, until one of the seers get it sent to them, " he muttered. "I honestly don't know how, who or why someone could have known... well, anything. Known he'd be picked, that he'd even make a wish and when, that you would be assigned... Maybe it's not even you? Maybe it's all a coincidence." Buffy sarcastically asked if he would like further proof and he held up a hand. "That won't be necessary at this time but thank you." He sighed again, "Give me some time and I will try and figure something out about what might be going on, okay?"

OoOoO

Buffy wasn't sure what to do when she left Lorne's, her stomach felt weird, her mind racing a mile a minute... She went home for awhile to try and relax, managed a shower and made herself some food, not that she could eat more than a few bites. She'd started a little file for her Angel cabinet about this Brynn character and did a little more digging into her to make sure there weren't any bright red flags to get in the way but she could hardly concentrate on that task even.

Winding up back in the rented studio, her eyes would flicker over to the stack of portraits that had shaken her up earlier, the sketchbooks, but she was doing her best to avoid that area of the room for now.

Instead, Buffy walked around, taking in other pieces he had started but laid there unfinished, her fingertips danced over a wind chime hanging in the corner, her hands flipping through endless pages, or over materials just left sitting around unused all this time.

OoOoO

With her sudden appearance, Angel's eyes seemed to twinkle as he took her in. "What if someone else was here when you did that?" he asked.

"I can sense an area before I appear there."

"What if I was just standing around naked?"

Buffy did her best to keep a straight face. "I can sense an area before I appear," she repeated, "I would know not to show up for one reason or another."

"Uh huh."

"How was work?" she asked, changing the subject.

Angel shrugged. "I was distracted most of the day."

"You did have a bit of a strange weekend," she offered.

"That would be putting it lightly," he agreed. "It was fine, though. I survived."

"And now onto the real fun and getting you ready for this evening. I hope you're feeling excited about your date."

Angel groaned a little. "Right. What's her name again?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and recited her name and just what their agreed upon plans were. "You should probably be a little more excited about these things, going in with dread or a bad attitude about it all probably isn't going to help your case. This is your wish, remember?"

He sighed, taking a seat. "I guess you're right. I don't know how else I would expect any of this to work anyway... unless you got some magic button or something? A list of who's meant to be with who or something?"

Buffy smiled a little, shaking her hair. "Sorry. If there is such I don't have access to it."

"Speaking of access... did you go to the studio? Did you have any trouble getting in? I hadn't been there in so long I was starting to worry they might have changed the system or something."

Buffy shook her head again. "N-no. It was fine." Swallowing hard, she complimented him on all she had seen in there. "It feels like a big waste of talent with you not continuing your work. I think we have to figure out how to get your muse back."

"Hey, if I felt like I could accomplish anything that is where I would be but..."

Silence hung in the air for a few moments before she swallowed again. "Th-there were several depictions of a woman..."

"Right," he drawled out.

"Wh-who is she?" Buffy asked, barely able to choke out the words.

Angel's mouth opened then shut again. "I have no idea," he finally answered and she watched as he stood up and disappeared for a few moments. When he returned, he put several large sketchbooks down on the coffee table, flipping them open to random pages.

Buffy's heart seemed to jump back in her throat as she saw more drawings of what had to be herself. The face was never visible and even in these before her it showed the figure in different clothes, different settings, even here in Angel's apartment... but somehow she knew it was supposed to be her.

"Drove me crazy for the longest time," his voice came, interrupting her thoughts. "That's the biggest reason as to why I stopped... I couldn't seem to make or draw or paint anything else but this woman but I can't finish them either. I think she's destined to haunt me or drive me absolutely insane," he brushed a hand through his short locks as he plopped back down on the sofa beside her, "Either way I've made peace with the fact that my artist days are done."

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, noticing the way her eyes seemed to have glassed over. If she so much as blinked a tear was sure to fall, "Look I know I'm impressive," he teased, "But I promise it's nothing worth crying over."

She couldn't believe that she was losing it in front of him like this. "It's not that," she managed, stretching the sleeves of her cardigan over her hands as she wiped at her eyes.

Angel's brows rose, "Talk to me," he urged quietly as he reached over to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He grinned when she tried to shake her head again, "Hey, it's not like I'll remember it a year from now right?" He tugged on her elbow until she gave in, settling back beside him on the sofa, turning to her side she let out a long sigh as her chin came to rest on his shoulder.

Her hands tangled around his arm gripping him tight. His head tilted, she worked her lip while she tried to pretend she couldn't see him looking at her out the corner of his eye. She hadn't come back here with the intention of telling him any of this, at least not until she'd had the chance to figure out what it all meant herself, but here she was getting sucked in by those dark eyes that made her feel a bit like she was drowning.

He watched her mouth open and close a few times as though she couldn't figure out where to begin. "What if I said I had something to tell you?"

Angel chuckled, "Well," he drawled, "I'd probably tell you I figured that out already."

She made a point of sticking her lips out into a pout, she wasn't sure how but he seemed to have a way of making the big things seem not so big, like no matter the problem he would figure out a way to solve it. Though she wasn't sure even he would have an answer to the bomb she was about to drop.

Rolling her eyes, she stretched across to reach the sketch book still residing on the table, sitting it across his lap she flipped it open until an image of two hands clasped came into view. She pointed to the lovers hands, you couldn't even see much farther than where their wrist began, but the way their fingers were intertwined gave way to an intimacy that was undeniable, especially when the hands in question were such familiar subjects.

"What do you see?" she questioned, pointing to the page.

His forehead creased, "Uh," this had to be some sort of trick question.

Lacing her fingers with his, she mimicked the position of his drawing with their hands. She swallowed hard, "What do you see now?"

His thumb brushed across her own, he still wasn't sure what exactly he was supposed to be looking at here. Not that he minded the excuse to hold her hand, but he just wasn't getting her point here. That was until he turned her hand over and caught sight of the small scar just below her forefinger. His eyes bounced back to hers, it couldn't be, it wasn't possible, although his realm of possibilities had been infinitely stretched since she appeared in his life.

"How?" He had to admit, there were feelings of betrayal swirling inside of him. It was one thing to accept the fact that she could randomly pop in and out of his life whenever she saw fit, it was another thing entirely for her to be invading his subconscious for years on end.

Flinching at the harshness of his tone, he watched as her shoulders slumped, "I-I don't know," she sighed. "This isn't normal," she stumbled, "I mean, this isn't something that we do. Like I explained before, we have no ties to the people we're assigned." Her eyes began to fill with tears all over again, "I swear Angel, I was just as shocked as you are."

A tense silence filled the room, not for the first time this girl was causing his head to spin. "So you weren't, I mean you've never," he cleared his throat, untangling their hands, he ran one through his hair as he tried to get some kind of hold on himself. "I mean, you weren't like a part of the dreams right?"

"Dreams?" Buffy echoed, her voice far higher than she'd intended. Angel nodded, and she could almost swear she saw blush creeping over the ever so stoic man. "What-What kind of dreams?"

Angel smirked, "What kind do you think?"

Feeling her own face beginning to burn she looked down to her lap. "Ohh," she whispered, suddenly very invested in the lint on her leggings, she tried to busy herself by picking at the imaginary fibers.

"And you're sure?" Angel pressed, "That it's you I mean," he nodded towards the sketchbook that once again resided on the small table in front of them. "In the rest of them."

She let out a long breath, "I think so. I wasn't sure at first either, but the more of them I saw, the more I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something familiar about her. Then I saw the birthmark, and it just clicked I guess."

"You-you have the same birthmark too?"

She nodded, "That was kinda the aha moment 'cause as much as I'd like to think otherwise right now, I just don't see me having some mysterious dream invading doppelganger out there."

"And you really have no idea what any of this means?"

Her teeth rolled over her lip in that way that he couldn't help but find adorable. "I even went to Lorne, he's umm one of my less human friends," she explained, "Anyway, his connections to the powers is a bit more extensive than mine, but even he didn't have any ideas, not off the top of his head anyway."

Boy this was not an easy conversation to have, but she had to do it, she had to tell him, even if it meant suffering the consequences for it later. She couldn't keep something like this from him after he'd been so open and trusting with her, it just didn't feel right. "Look how about I talk to one of my friends, we all owe each other a few favors, maybe one of them wouldn't mind taking over for me."

Angel's head shot up, "What?" he gasped, "Why? Buffy I swear, I told you I gave up on this a while ago. I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable."

"Angel, no," her hand went back to his, "This isn't about that, I just figured you might be more comfortable, you know, without having to deal with me hanging around all the time."

"But I like you hanging around, and now that you've helped bring closure to that mystery, I can only feel more confident in your ability to help me with other aspects of my life," he told her softly. "I may not understand any of what happened with those drawings but, I mean, i-it doesn't change anything. Does it?" He wasn't entirely sure that was very truthful as his mind was absolutely reeling but he knew he didn't want her to disappear on him. Swallowing, he cautiously asked if she were okay with still being in this with him given all this new and strange information. He knew he'd understand if she wanted to go running for the hills but he hoped that wouldn't be the case.

Buffy blushed a little, looking anywhere but at his face as she thought that over. He couldn't help but worry this might be too much for her as well, feeling pretty sure she was even more confused than he was right about now, and was far from used to some random wish making guy knowing far too intimate details about her and everything. "I'll be alright," she finally spoke. "Hopefully someone will have answers about the whole situation but... but there is still a job at hand and I'm happy to continue trying to help you get that happily ever after out there... which," she cleared her throat, "you do still have a date to be getting ready for, don't you?"

His mind blanked for a moment, forgetting completely about this morning. before absently nodding his head. Going out with anyone right now was the last thing he wanted to do to be quite honest but he knew he'd made a deal with her about such, plus the fact he figured she'd freak out if he backed out on it and that was the last thing needed.

OoOoO

As he had expected, Angel was not enjoying himself one bit, he couldn't follow along the conversation for the life of him. He was thankful that his date didn't seem to notice, or perhaps just not care, and she carried on while he would mumble a "Oh, really?" "Uh huh." or something along those lines every now and again. Hell, he could hardly even eat more than a few bites.

His thoughts were completely locked in on Buffy as they sat there. He certainly didn't want to tell her it, but he kept coming back around to that there had to be a reason something like this happened. For years he had been haunted by images of her... there had to be more to it than pure coincidence. There just had to be.

He had joked with her before and he had wondered probably more than he should have been about what if it was her, what if she was the answer to his wish. He was sure they had rules about such for good reason, I mean a human such as himself with... well, whatever she was supposed to be probably wasn't exactly "natural" for one thing... it didn't stop his mind from going there and picturing what that could be like.

Now that there was the fact that he had somehow known about her long before he was supposed to, in ways he absolutely shouldn't, it only seemed to drive him deeper into those type of thoughts.

He had imagined himself with that "mystery woman" for years... in dreams and daydreams, of just being around her, being out on dates, in bed... making memories... and now he had a face, a person to actually put it all together and it was like he could bring up an old image from one of those dreams in his mind or look at a sketch and just picture it with surround sound or something.

He felt a little uneasy when it came to some of those dreams, the more intimate portraits he'd created now. It hadn't stopped or harmed his lusty feelings toward her any, but he also felt like he had violated her privacy without intent to do such a thing.

It was all just a lot to take in and try to understand.

OoOoO

Buffy's stomach felt strange, she checked her watch then also the large clock hanging on the side wall of his living room for probably the hundredth time. Shaking her hands out a few times, she paced around the apartment with her mind trying to come up with some kind of answer as to why Angel had been having dreams about her and drawing an endless supply of drawings of her for years while she had no idea about it, or about him, this whole time.

Looking at the time yet again, she let out a deep, slow breath and went back to the pile of sketches. Taking a seat, she brought the notepads and sketchbooks into her lap and looked over them again, page by page. All were nameless, faceless, but were her... sometimes the two of them together and each looked incredibly beautiful. She could almost imagine them come to life as she stared, how she would be laughing at something he said, imagining herself cleaning off the dishes in one that had her standing in front of his kitchen sink and her head starting to turn back around to look behind her... turning the page her breath hitched at one sketch of the two of them entangled up together on his bed and for a moment she wondered what that too would be like before slamming the book shut and hurrying to push it away from her.

"Stop!" she commanded out loud to herself.

Standing back up quickly, she nearly yelped loud enough for the whole building to hear when she turned to find herself face to face with Angel, who she hadn't even heard come in or return apparently. "H-hi, h-how did things go?" she struggled to get out.

Angel shrugged. "Don't think there was much sparkage by either of us."

"Oh," she replied, wondering where that stab of relief had come from. "W-well, do you want to talk about it? Maybe go over high and low points, what you did enjoy about her and about the date so we can use that to maybe help next time?"

Angel shook his head at that. "Nah."

"Okay, well... we can always try again tomorrow."

"Sounds like a plan. And don't forget you owe me a date, too," he said and she felt her eyes widened. "A friend date. Outing," he quickly followed up with.

"Right," she said slowly. "Well, um, whatever you want to do..."

OoOoO

Crawling into bed, Angel hooked one arm behind his head and looked up at the ceiling replaying how awkward things had been with Buffy before she took off for the evening. He didn't have to guess hard as to why but he didn't like it all the same.

He still wasn't sure what he was going to do for their "date" either. He had been toying with the idea of following along with his dates with these potential mates, take one to dinner then her out for a picnic perhaps, perhaps a hockey game date followed by his day out with her where they could hit the beach, maybe swing by the little cafe she'd commented on when they drove into his office the other day.

He was hoping after a little bit of time and some fun he'd be able to coax her out of all the awkwardness she was feeling. It was definitely going to be an uphill battle, but it was one he refused to lose, one way or another he was determined to get this whole mess squared away and behind them.

OoOoO

Not sure how much time had passed he groaned glancing at the clock, mentally he calculated the amount of sleep he would get if he fell asleep right then. Rolling over he continued to toss and turn, flipping from his stomach to his side and back again, he honestly wasn't even sure why he was trying anymore, it was useless. Every single time he let his thoughts go, let his mind drift to that place he went just before sleep claimed him she would appear again. He couldn't count the number of times he'd forced her from his mind.

There was no secret to the fact that he'd been attracted to her pretty much from the moment she first poofed her way into his life, but everything was different now. Before he had no problems letting himself get lost in the little fantasies his brain insisted on conjuring up, but now it all just felt so fucking wrong, and at the same time it felt like exactly what he was supposed to be doing.

He wasn't the easiest person to get to know, he knew that, he was private, some might say egotistical, and it wasn't often that he let people in. Not a saint by any means, his bed was no stranger to women, but it was connections outside of that he had issues with, and yet somehow he felt her wedging her way into his life without any idea how to stop it. Still didn't make him imagine her in any of the ways his head kept coming up with any less wrong though.

Letting out a long huff, he thought, not for the first time that she really should be equipped with a cell phone. He had even brought it up once or twice but she quickly shot the idea down, reminding him that he was pretty much the only person on the entire mortal plain that currently remembered who she was. That bitter reminder had instantly caused him to drop the subject, the last thing he wanted to think about was a future where she didn't exist. Plus, she promised him that if he ever needed her she would get the message one way or another.

Squeezing his eyes closed, he silently repeated her name as though he was stuck in the Wizard of Oz or some other bullshit. Realizing how absolutely ridiculous he probably looked, trying to summon his fairy god mother who just happened to have the body of a fucking goddess, he tossed the comforter off. All of the sudden the air around him was stifling, he'd just begun to swing his legs over the side of his bed, hoping that turning down the thermostat may help turn down his libido when he heard something at the foot of the bed.

Buffy's hand shot first to cover her mouth, then her eyes, before spinning on her heel to face the wall. "Why would you call me when you're all," she stumbled, "naked."

Angel chuckled, looked like her whole little call her and she will come thing worked after all. "I'm not naked," he clarified, "And for the record, I wasn't sure if the whole calling you thing was even going to work." He grabbed the blanket, pulling it back across his waist, propped up against the bed he smirked, clearly she hadn't been expecting to come back so soon either. That is unless pug pajamas were a new fashion trend he hadn't been made aware of, not that she wasn't adorable all the same.

Turning back around, she watched Angel make room for her beside him on the bed. She wasn't sure why, but she could feel her heart thundering away, and she was more than a little glad the lights had already been dimmed, she just knew her face must match the crimson of his sheets. "This is a terrible idea," she mumbled, but her own feet betrayed her, slowly inching closer until she found herself sitting on the edge of the plush mattress.

"I'm sorry."

He sure did apologize a lot for someone that didn't do anything wrong. "Is that why you called me back," she grinned, " 'Cause we kinda already established that remember?"

"I meant for calling you back here," he sighed slowly, "And for everything else."

Without thinking she reached out and laced her fingers with his, "Angel I already told you, the drawings, the dreams, none of it's your fault. If anything, all that stuff probably falls more on me, I mean in case you've forgotten happiness and destinies is sort of my department."

She tried to ignore the pattern his thumb was tracing on her palm as he spoke. She was pretty sure he was apologizing, or explaining why he felt the need to apologize, but either way she was finding it incredibly hard to concentrate. It should totally be illegal to be that enamored with someone's arms.

"I just couldn't leave things the way we did earlier, I never want you to feel awkward or uncomfortable, not around me."

She'd barely managed to make it through the day without embarrassing herself, and if you counted Angel sneaking up on her looking through his drawings she hadn't even fully succeeded in that aspect. Shifting around she pulled her legs under her as she scooted just a little closer to the warmth he was radiating. When she heard his call come through, she had half the mind to ignore it, but no matter how hard she tried she just couldn't bring herself too.

"I'm not uncomfortable. Trust me, you're not the first client I've had ring me in the night," she leaned in a little closer, "But you know what," she teased, trying to stifle her grin.

"What," he whispered, fighting with everything inside of him, wanting nothing more than to close the small space between them.

Her smile grew wide, "You're the only one to ever have the pleasure of seeing me in my favorite jammies."

Angel chuckled, she had some innate ability to make him laugh, a feat not many could accomplish. She really was his definition of perfection, and just as his luck would have it, completely off limits. He could still feel it though, he didn't have a word for what it was, but it was there. It almost felt like some electrical charge pulsing between them, at first he ignored it, chalking it up to her being some mystical type of being or whatever, but those feelings only seemed to be growing more intense, especially now that they had figured out she was one behind his muse all these years.

Angel allowed himself a few drawn out moments of just getting lost in everything she was before smiling softly. "So, are you sure that we're okay?" he asked her.

Buffy nodded, matching his smile with one of her own. "I'm sure that there's some logical reason for everything going on," she said, trying to brush it off. Truthfully she couldn't come up with a single train of reasoning that made any sense whatsoever to her about why Angel would have been having visions, dreams, or whatever else about her for years prior and now here she was, and for the first time in a long while she felt just truly, utterly thrown by something. And not once had anything like this ever happened, or ever happened as far as she knew.

There had to be a reason, just wasn't entirely sure she was going to like the answer to all the hows and whys the more she thought about it.

"Just don't worry too much about it," she told him, patting his hand. "We have bigger fish to fry when it comes to finding you a perfect match."

Not for the first time since laying eyes on her, Angel wondered if he hadn't already found that exact someone but he kept his mouth shut, simply nodding his head before they said another round of goodbyes and goodnights and confirmed once more their plans to see one another come morning. He prayed sleep would come easier now with his mind a little less clouded.

ButImBroken:

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