2011

Sunnydale, California

Downtown: Couples Therapy Office: Session 5

The ticking clock was louder and sharper than in all of the previous sessions. Perhaps, it was because Buffy felt more on edge and lonely.

After their last session, Angel had spent two days in Los Angeles under the lie that Angel was assisting in a major case, but Buffy knew better. She stopped arguing and pleading for him to stay. Buffy simply mumbled an acceptance and hung up the phone.

"Tell me what that day was like." Cordelia's voice tore Buffy from her wandering mind.

"We've already done that." Angel said, pointedly, ready to walk out at any given second.

Cordelia shook her head. "I'm not talking about the day of the accident. I'm talking about the day after. Talk about the funeral."

The couple stared at the therapist, neither one of them wanting to talk about that dreadful day.

September 11, 2009

Restfield Cemetery

"We command to almighty God to love and care for Kathleen Elizabeth O'Connor. We commit this all too young body to the ground. Earth to earth... ashes to ashes… and dust to dust," said the priest standing near the granite headstone.

Angel tightly held his hands in front of him. His glaring eyes stared at the coffin slowly lowering into the dug out hole. His fisted hands turned white as he tried desperately to control his rage.

Standing beside Angel was Buffy. She stared in disbelief at the grave, not yet coming to terms that this was not only real life but it was her life. Her body felt numb, the soreness of her sustained injuries was in the far back of her mind. Her heart in pieces, she could hardly breathe.

The sound of a shovel digging into earth startled Buffy, her hand touched Angel's hand.

His long fingers wrapped around her hand and slowly squeezed it tighter.

"Lord bless her and keep her." The priest prayed, his eyes closed and hands open. "Shine your goodness upon her and be gracious to this precious girl. Lord lift up your countenance upon her and give her peace."

After the service, family and friends leisurely walked away, leaving Buffy and Angel standing at the newly covered grave. They stared unblinkingly at it in earth shattering disbelief.

The life that they once knew, every ounce of happiness that they left was now buried six feet into the ground.

Later

Crawford Street: O'Connor Residence

"Do you want me to stay with you just a little bit longer, sweetheart?" Joyce asked, pushing Buffy's long straightened blonde hair out of her face.

Breathing in a deep breath, Buffy shook her head. "We'll be okay." She managed to find her voice. She had not said much during the day, which was expected. Buffy resigned to herself, sitting in the corner staring blankly at a photograph of the five-year-old.

Joyce nodded and wrapped her daughter into her arms.

Grimacing at the sharp pain of her abdomen, Buffy pushed through it and masked her wincing expression.

Seeing herself out, Joyce exited the mansion and headed to the car.

From the doorway, Buffy watched her mother slide into the passenger's seat while her stepfather Giles sat in the driver's seat, patiently waiting.

Closing the front door as her mother and stepfather drove off, Buffy heard the sounds of crashing and a loud thud up the stairs.

Frowning, she stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. She held her hand on the banister and slowly stepped up the flight of stairs.

She followed the banging down the hallway to a closed bedroom door.

Buffy felt paralyzed as she stood outside Katie's closed bedroom door. She hadn't been able to enter the bedroom since coming home from the hospital.

Swallowing her dread, Buffy wrapped her hand around the doorknob. She inhaled a deep breath and opened the door.

Inside the bedroom, Angel's back faced her. In his hand he held a wooden baseball bat.

The five-year-old's bedroom was covered with large brown packing boxes scattered around the floor.

Angel dropped the bat on the tiny twin bed and grabbed one of the boxes from the floor. His arm swept across the wooden desk with Katie's crayons, drawings, and markers into the box. He violently opened the desk drawers and dumped all of its contents into the box.

"Angel?" Buffy softly said his name as she entered the bedroom. "What're you doing?" She asked, chin quivering.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He sharply asked, dumping the bottom drawer into the box.

Buffy watched the muscles of his back twitch with every movement. "Please, stop."

Angel ignored her whispering plea and continued to haphazardly toss Katie's things into the box. "This room is a mess."

"Angel, stop." Buffy said quietly, tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

"It needs to be done." Angel replied, throwing random objects and toys into the packing box.

Buffy stepped further into the bedroom and picked up a brown teddy bear from her daughter's pile of stuffed animals. Her hand tightened around the stuffed animal and she began to shake her head. "Angel, stop." Buffy ordered, her voice strong and firm.

Shaking his head, Angel dropped the box and kicked it towards the door. The filled packing box slid across the wooden floor and stopped at Buffy's feet.

"It's trash now."

Buffy's eyes shot up to the back of his head in shock. "This stops now, Angel."

Whirling around to her Angel, glared. "Someone's gotta do it."

"How can you say that?" Buffy stared at her husband with sickened disbelief. "For days you've been running around here straightening up like all of this has been some big chore or something. Cleaning up after Katie's mess."

Rage swirled in Angel's chest. The vein in his forehead threatened to pop. His dark eyes glazed over with an unnatural fury. Grabbing the bat on the bed, Angel whacked one lamp on the nightstand. He began to smash the plastic toys into smithereens, stomping his boot on each broken piece.

"A fucking chore?" Angel furiously screamed at Buffy. He angrily stomped across the short distance from her. His towering height loomed over her. "Open your fucking eyes, Buffy! None of this shit matters anymore. She's gone!" Angel kicked the desk and continued to bash Katie's toys with a bat. "It's all fucking garbage now!"

Buffy picked up an empty packing box and started to toss anything that hadn't been met with Angel's fury into the box. Photographs, clothing, stuffed animals, toys—anything that was out of Angel's destructive path.

Catching his wife red handed, Angel pointed the end of the bat at her. "Put the box down." He ordered, his dark eyes piercing straight through her skin.

Lifting her chin, Buffy fearlessly challenged him. "No."

"Put the box down, Buffy." His deep voice was dark and threatening. His hands tightly gripped the baseball bat.

"No." Furious, Buffy held her ground.

"Put the fucking box now, Buffy!" Angel exploded into a fit of rage and continued to bash objects into pieces. He dropped the bat and ripped the posters and drawings taped on the walls. His rage was uncontrollably, pounding his still healing fist into the solid wooden desk until it began to break. Angel stomped on it.

Buffy stood against the opposite wall, watching her husband's breakdown. He breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down.

Angel kicked the broken objects in his way and bolted out of the bedroom. His heavy boots vibrated the walls with each step.

Closing her eyes, Buffy dropped the box at her feet and closed her eyes when the front door slammed shut. She buried her face into her hands and slid down the wall to the floor, sobbing.

3 ½ Hours Later

Dining Room

Staring out of the large window looking out to the gardens, Buffy held a warm mug of tea between her hands.

She was not sure how much time had passed since Angel's furious exit. After his departure, Buffy straightened up the bedroom, sweeping up the mess Angel had created with the bat and salvaged whatever she could of Katie's things.

She was not mad at him. Buffy knew she probably should be, but she was not. In fact, Buffy was very angry too. She was angry that her daughter was unjustly taken from them. She was angry that will be forced to go on living without her.

Buffy didn't feel much of anything except anger. It seemed that all the maternal softness that had been once inside of her dried up and drained away.

The sound of the front door quietly opening and closing barely registered onto Buffy's radar. Neither did she notice Angel's footsteps entering the dining room.

Her gaze out of the window, staring in the abyss did not break until Angel's shadow loomed over her.

Breaking her stare, Buffy lifted her eyes to Angel's face.

He looked emotionally exhausted.

Angel took the undrank tea from her hands and set it on the table. He crouched to her eye level, his gaze never breaking from hers. He took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist.

His dark eyes glanced back at her face to see her reaction.

Buffy did not react at all.

Leaning forward, Angel covered his mouth over hers.

Buffy quickly responded to the kiss. She immediately noticed the difference in their kiss, which tasted and felt so different from the millions of other kisses they've shared. The kiss was passionate and needing but it held no love or devotion. Instead, the kiss was emotionless and desperate.

Angel circled his arms around her waist and carefully maneuvered her from the chair. He sat down on the chair. Buffy promptly pushed the black skirt up her thighs and straddled his lap.

Reaching between their bodies, Angel unfastened the front of his pants and reached inside, taking out his erected cock.

Buffy slid down his length with no preamble.

His hands were at her waist, setting a steady rhythm of her rolling hips.

They kissed hard and deeply. Buffy sucked in a moaning breath. Her eyes squeezed closed and threw her head back.

Angel's mouth kissed her throat, the grinding pace hastened and quickly became uncontrollable.

Bouncing up and down on him, Buffy moaned as his thumbs manipulated her clit in a circular motion.

His climax built to his apogee. Angel buried his fingers into her hair, forcing her head lower to kiss him.

Riding him hard in an animalistic frenzy, Buffy pressed her forehead to his, breathing deeply as an orgasm wracked through her entire body.

Her pulsing vaginal muscles squeezing around him was enough for him to reach his climax. Angel released himself, spilling his seed deep inside of her.

For a few seconds they felt something. It was human and familiar. Buffy recognised it as something good.

But as soon as it came, it was gone. The blackened disparity of depression crept back in, reminding them of the gaping hole that was now in their life.

Staring deep into each other's eyes, neither one of them recognised each other. All of the goodness and love was gone.

Wanting to feel that feeling of humanity again, Buffy covered her mouth over his and roughly kissed her grieving husband.

2011

Downtown: Couples Therapy Office: Session 5

"I'm not talking about it." Angel refused and shot up to his feet and buttoned the top button of his coat. "I think we're done for the day." He lowered his gaze to Buffy, expecting her to join him.

Buffy did not move from her arms crossed position.

"Excuse me." Angel sneered and stormed out of the therapist's office.

When the door slammed, Buffy closed her eyes, willing back the tears stinging her eyes.

Cordelia watched the blonde, somewhat surprised that she hadn't followed Angel out the door. She remained quiet, never pressuring Buffy to say a word.

The silence lasted for nearly ten minutes.

Anxiously, Buffy twisted her fingers and exhaled a breath. "After the funeral, Angel disappeared upstairs. Totally resigned to himself. He shutdown. When everyone at the wake left, I-I heard banging upstairs. So I go up and that banging is coming from Katie's room." Buffy lifted her eyes to Cordelia. A tear slid down her cheek from the corner of her eye. "I opened the door and he's holding a baseball bat. He's just bashing everything in sight."

Cordelia listened to the grieving mother, her heart breaking.

Buffy continued, "I go inside the room and start picking up things—random things and put 'em in a box. We have an argument. Angel tells me to put the box down, it's trash now. I didn't put the box down. He was furious. He threw the bat and stormed out. I was honestly surprised that he came back a few hours later." Buffy sat back with a sense of relief of finally talking about that dreadful day. Angel would hear none of it.

Cordelia reached for the tissue box to the right of her and leaned forward, handing the blonde a tissue. Buffy took the soft tissue paper and toyed with it between her fingers.

Buffy's green eyes dropped to Cordelia's hand wrapped around hers. She lifted her bloodshot eyes to the therapist's face and inhaled a jagged breath.

They sat in this silence for a long time.

2 Months Ago

Downtown: Main Street: Espresso Pump

The coffeehouse was modern and open air, with a patio covered with tables a respectful distance apart.

Seated in one of the booths were Buffy and Angel. They sat adjacent to one another in a stagnant silence staring at the drinks in their hands.

Angel's eyes were on his wife, watching as she brought the hot latte to her lips and took a sip of it.

Feeling his eyes on her, Buffy sheepishly looked away.

For the umpteenth time, Buffy asked herself how they had fallen apart so spectacularly. When did it get so hard to have a conversation? Why was it the only time they felt anything was when they had very passionate sex?

Over the past year and half Faith, Willow, and her mother carefully pointed out that she and Angel had shattered apart. In fact, they might never be happy again after the tragedy.

That may be so, but Buffy was not ready to throw in the towel on their marriage just yet. Despite the heartbreak and all of the arguments that followed, with all of her heart, she loved him.

Xander had suggested couple's therapy. He and his wife Anya have been going to couple's therapy for years.

Heeding his advice, Buffy scoured names of relationship therapists on the internet when she came across one at the top of the list: Cordelia Chase, LMFT, Relationship Therapist.

The following afternoon, Buffy visited Cordelia Chase's office, wanting to learn as much as possible about this sort of therapy, knowing Angel would be reluctant and try to rationalise a way out of going.

Cordelia seemed nice enough and very personable; she answered the long list of Buffy's strenuous questions with openness and patience.

"We're not happy." Buffy said, breaking the silence.

Angel lifted his eyes from the tea in front of him. He wanted to disagree, but he couldn't. They were not happy at all.

"We haven't been happy in a long time. Not since… God, we can't even say her name." Buffy exhaled a frustrated breath as she turned her eyes away.

"What are you trying to say, Buf?" Angel held his breath, he had anticipated that she'd one day ask him for a divorce. It was only a matter of time. If a divorce is what she wanted, Angel couldn't deny it for her. He's robbed her of everything else; their happiness, their child… Perhaps divorce was their best option now.

"I'm saying that we're not happy." Buffy turned her gaze back to her depressed looking husband. "Do you want to be with me still? Do you want to be married to me?"

Taken back by the question, Angel knew what he should say, but he loved her so much. "Of course, I do."

"Then we can't go on like this. Angel." Her voice remained patient and almost emotionless. Angel recognised this tone. It was the tone of voice she used when denying Katie something that she wanted. "If we do… it's gonna kill whatever is left of us."

"What do you suggest?"

"Xander told me about relationship therapy that he and Anya go to." She explained, opening the flap of her purse, Buffy took out a business card. She placed it on the table and slid it towards him. "It's the name of a therapist that specialises in relationships. It's not the same therapist as theirs but…"

Angel picked up the business card and read it with a frown. "A therapist? You want to do couples therapy?"

"If you don't want to do it, then I don't know what else we can do. But if we do go, then we have a chance of salvaging whatever's left here."

Angel did not like the idea of therapy. Telling a stranger all of their personal dirty laundry was too invasive. He looked across the small table at his wife. Her green eyes were wide, pleading with him to agree. "This is what you really want to do?"

"We can try it. What do we have to lose?"

Angel looked at her for a few minutes longer thinking about the number of things they could lose if they didn't try the couple's therapy. His eyes lowered back to the business card searing the name Cordelia Chase into his brain.

2011

Downtown: Couples Therapy Office: Session 5

Staring out the window to the busy main street, Buffy held the scrunched tissue in her hand. "We're not getting better, are we?" She suddenly asked, turning her head from the window to Cordelia.

Unsure what to say exactly, Cordelia tried to be optimistic, if not cautiously so. "Progress is slow, but it's still progress."

Buffy slowly nodded her head, her brows slightly pinched together. "It was my idea to come here and do this. Angel only did what I asked. I believed in us. Even after everything... I thought with a little therapy it would get better. When Katie died, we died." Buffy wiped the tear away from under her right eye. "My friends… Jeez, even my mother thinks we should separate."

Cordelia did not interrupt, letting the blonde talk her way through this.

"It's not what I want. I just want him back." Buffy's voice cracked with emotion. "I want my husband."

For a minute, Buffy sat on the couch silently, composing herself before collecting her purse at her feet and standing.

Cordelia walked behind the blonde, escorting to the door.

In the office waiting room, Angel's head snapped upwards to the sound of the door opening. He stood from the chair he had been sitting.

Buffy tried to give the therapist a smile but it never reached her face. She took a deep breath and faced her husband. He wore an apologetic look on his face for how he behaved at the start of the session.

Not saying a word, Buffy started towards the exit doors.

Falling into step with her, Angel opened the door for the blonde. He glanced over his shoulder at Cordelia and followed Buffy out.