Nothing new to note that hasn't been explained in earlier chapters. Just wanted to say that I'm very proud of this chapter :)

Enjoy!

EDIT (11/4/15): Just realized a note I should have added - in my story, Wolfram & Hart were planning on resurrecting Darla much later in the series (around when the time Buffy died) instead of at the end of Angel Season 1. Ok, that's it!

"So put on your best boys, and I'll wear my pearls."

- The Band Perry

Lilah Morgan walked briskly down the hall at Wolfram & Hart. It was late, but she knew Holland and Lindsey would be still there, planning. She turned a corner, her stiletto heels barely making a sound on the carpeting, and threw open the double doors to the conference room.

Holland Manners and Lindsey MacDonald looked up from the spread of paperwork and ancient books on the table in front of them.

"Scrap the Darla plan," Lilah said to them. At their questioning looks she added, "I just got word that the Slayer is dead."

Holland and Lindsey looked at each other before Lindsey said, "Okay…and?"

Lilah barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. "Buffy Summers? Vampire Slayer from the Hellmouth? The little blonde thing Angel's always got himself wrapped around?" At their blank stares Lilah sighed. Men… "The Slayer was the love of Angel's un-life. She just died. Angel was there. You want to break him? Use her, not Darla."

Angel strained slowly over Buffy's body, groaning into her mouth when she angled her hips to allow him deeper inside. She smiled against his lips at his response. He reveled in the feeling of her warm, soft body around him, her strong thighs gripping him, her heels pressing into the back of his thighs. He found it far too easy to completely lose himself when they were pressed skin to skin like this. For someone who needed total control in all areas of his life, it both excited and frightened him.

She broke away from his lips to gasp a breath of air, and he continued to kiss his way along her jawline, down her tanned throat, and pause to gently suck at his mark on her neck. One of her hands skimmed down his back and settled on his hip, while the other held his head in place on her neck. Buffy gasped suddenly, causing Angel to pull back and look down at her.

He smelled the blood before he saw it. He furrowed his brows in confusion and looked down at her abdomen. Blood flowed from a gaping wound in her belly, pooling on the sheets they lay on.

"Angel?" he could hear the fear in her voice.

He looked up at her in shock. "Oh God, Buffy."

She looked up at him, eyes shining with fear. "Why did you let me die?"

Angel sat up in bed with a strangled gasp, realizing he was alone. He looked around the dark room and his eyes settled on the flower arrangements and sympathy cards on the kitchen table in his suite, reminding him of the funeral he had just come from, and that the dream he had was just that; a dream.

He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to shake the dream, when something shifted in the bed next to him.

Angel froze and slowly turned to look at the space next to him in the bed. Buffy lay there, propped up on one elbow, covering her bare chest with the sheet. Angel sucked in a breath and tried to move away from her in the bed.

Buffy regarded him with a slight look of amusement and pity on her face. "Wow, you really are losing it, huh?"

Angel awoke for real this time, but didn't sit up. He knew the flowers and cards were there, just as in the dream. The only thing missing was Buffy.

Angel, Wesley, and Gunn watched the large, green, scaly demon feed on a rat from their hiding spot behind the shipping container.

"We should ambush now, while it's distracted. I'll come around from the back-" Wesley started to say, but stopped when Angel charged forward and swung at the demon with his sword. "Or we could go now…" Wesley finished. He and Gunn gave each other a look before joining Angel in fighting the demon. They were glad he was out of the hotel, but since Buffy's death he was getting a bit reckless. They often found that he was sleeping well into the afternoon, but never quite looking rested.

The demon threw Angel back against a metal shipping container and Wesley and Gunn rushed forward, weapons raised. Angel quickly recovered and headed toward the fight, when a lone figure leaning against one of the shipping containers caught his eye.

Buffy watched him with a slight smirk on her face and one eyebrow raised. Angel stared at her, mouth slightly open.

She had been appearing in his dreams more frequently now, but this was the first time he had seen her when he was awake. Her blonde hair hung in loose waves framing her pretty face, just as he remembered. She wore a long, white, thin-strapped dress that seemed to glow in the darkness, showing off her tanned skin.

"Hey Angel! A little help here!" Angel tore his eyes from Buffy and saw that the demon had Gunn pinned against a shipping container, while Wesley scrambled to his feet behind it. Wes raised his battle-axe and swung, landing it in the center of the demon's back. The demon roared, but did not fall.

Angel rushed forward and hauled the demon away from Gunn. He thrust his sword into the demon's chest, but it had no effect.

"Angel, it's a Lechnox demon. Go for the throat! Come on, you know that. Even I knew that." came Buffy's voice from her spot against the shipping container. Angel looked over at her before looking at Gunn and Wesley, who appeared to not have heard or seen anything.

After trading a few blows with the demon, Angel saw an opening and swiftly punched it in the throat. The demon froze in place, and fell backwards to the ground, dead.

Wesley and Gunn walked over, breathing heavily. "Lechnox demon," Wesley said. "Killed by a blow to the throat. I should have known that."

Angel looked over at the spot in between the shipping containers where he had seen Buffy, but there was nothing there. He growled slightly and headed off towards the hotel.

"Alright, we'll take care of the body, no problem!" Gunn called out sarcastically after him. "Man, what is going on in that guy's head?" he said to Wesley.

Wes watched Angel fade into the night and said, "I don't think we'll ever know."

Angel walked into the lobby of the hotel and past Cordelia and Fred, who were sitting on one of the couches. Cordy was flicking through a magazine, and Fred looked like she had just woken from a nap.

When Angel didn't say anything to them, Cordy asked, "Um hi? Did you get the demon?"

Angel headed towards the stairs and tossed a "Yeah," back at them.

Cordy and Fred looked at each other. Cordelia shrugged and said, "Well, I guess that's our cue to go to home."

Angel walked into his suite and shrugged off his jacket, draping it over a chair by the door. He walked into the kitchen and shot a glare at the slightly wilted flowers on the table. Buffy told him once that she thought giving flowers at a funeral was stupid. "You just went through this awful experience, and you're grieving, and then someone hands you a bunch of flowers or a potted plant, and it's like, great! Now I have to take care of my very own botanical garden. This makes me feel SO much better, thank you!"

Angel threw open the refrigerator door and grabbed a container of blood. Not bothering to heat it up, he gulped down half the container before putting it back. He paused, still not feeling satisfied. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet, a bottle of Jameson from the bar cart, and poured himself a drink. He finished the glass in a few gulps and headed back into the bedroom.

Angel froze in his tracks when he saw Buffy standing in the center of the room. She was wearing the same white dress he saw her wearing earlier in the shipping yard. He stared at her for a moment before saying, "You're not real."

She smiled at him and said, "Well, no. But that doesn't make it any better, does it? I'm still gone."

Angel continued to stare at her, clenching his fists until it was almost painful. Seeing her in front of him was the worst torture. She was beautiful, radiant; but he knew she wasn't real. In reality, she was laying under six feet of cold dirt two hours away in Sunnydale. He held her limp, cold body after she jumped from that tower. He helped Joyce and Greg pick out a coffin. He helped them with all the funeral arrangements. He held Dawn when she couldn't stop crying at the wake. He stood at her grave, hating that he couldn't catch her scent anymore, even though she was right there. He knew the real Buffy wouldn't torture him like this. He wondered about the possibility that The First was back.

Buffy walked towards him and he vaguely noted that she had no scent, no heartbeat, no warmth. She was inches away from him and he resisted the urge to step back. She reached up and caressed his face. He could feel her hand, cold and foreign against his cheek, throwing away his theory that it was The First.

She ran her hand down to his shoulder, and walked around him so she was standing facing his back, keeping her hand on his shoulder the whole time.

Still frozen in place, Angel asked, "Why are you doing this?"

Buffy leaned forward and he could feel her against his back. She whispered in his ear, "Who says it's me?"

Angel blinked and turned around, but she was gone. He was alone again.

Months later, when she was back for real, Angel laid his eyes upon her and didn't believe it could really be her. Angel and his team eventually figured out that Wolfram and Hart had been manipulating his dreams and causing his hallucinations as their newest form of torture. Could this be their grand finale?

Willow was rambling on about something, but Angel didn't hear her. Buffy was staring at him, and he was staring at her. He stepped forward, terrified she would vanish in front of him, just like in his dreams. He had imagined her so many times that he couldn't believe this was really her standing in front of him. He finally stepped close enough to wrap his arms around her, and bury his face in her neck. She was slack for a moment, and then rubbed her hands up and down his back.

Angel pulled back and looked into her eyes. He saw how lost they looked, but pushed it to the back of his mind. "I thought you were gone," he finally said.

She avoided his gaze and said, "Me too."

He realized with a jolt that even though she was back, that didn't mean she was really here with him.