She's not the first one, who takes her fingers (tiny little pink things) and peels away the goodness in me away, my soul sitting on her open palm. (bloody from being ripped away from inside me without a care in the world)

There has been so many before her (this snarky thing as she says she likes me 'soulless and fully hers') that I've almost lost count.

Buffy, was the first and the only one who did it without any bloodshed at all (only at the very end when she ended me for the world) and the one that I loved and will love until the end of goddamn world.

(as Xander would say, beside that fact I need to wear bell, 'it was freaking epic')

Cordy came swinging in pulling me out of every dark and broody mood that I had back then (and will have forever and ever, I am Angel after all) with just one smile that never failed to reach her eyes but like all the others it ended in flames with Apocalypse after Apocalypse.

(besides she herself almost brought us all to a nice crispy end and from that little evil smirk of hers, it was clear she didn't even give a damn. Oh and she banged my son, yeah)

The one thing those two had in common, which if you knew those two in year one wasn't much, was the fact that I loved every single bit of them and they felt the very same. (or so I hoped that was the case)

But the small creature before me (even smaller then Buffy, and almost as crazy as Dru) had so much hate in her eyes that I thought at any moment they were going to startburning blue just like her finger tips, ready to suck the rest of me up, so much hate for the soul that was staring out at her in horror.

(and it's oh-so right to be afraid, so very afraid, of it's destroyer ready to crush it into millions of pieces. With hope of never being put back together again, for him)

"Why?"

"One because I can (because I can and I will, not even I can stop myself), and two I love him so much more then I'll ever come to love you, Angel, dear. See you when the scoopy gang figure out how to save the day once again, but I hope that won't be anytime soon."

-

This it turns out is the third time (I never was counting that just how many times I can touch her lips before they drag me away from them once again) she's brought me back and it won't be the last time that I'm sure of.

(because folks she loves me, but as I found out not as much as I love her and that for me is a first, and one day we'll have forever and ever to keep on doing this little game. Oh how we both love our games and little toys with real faces)

"What took you so long, lover?"

Some of his memories (and now mine, all mine) he's been able to hide away from me, lock them within himself but there's one at the moment that shines above all the rest, that smile that rests on her lips that is staring up at me right now.

And all of the ones filled to the brim with her, forgetting all of the others around him, have a fizzing feeling to them which I can tell right away is nothing other then love, all mushy stuff and butterfly's.

"He was head over heels in love with me, honey-bear, always turning those puppy-dog soul filled eyes at me. It was fun to begin with but got boring rather quick, but it was a first over the years I've brought you back. About that, pet, what do you say?"

Each and every time, which means every once a year after they all have cooled out for a few months, in the first few moments they were together (besides all the kissing, one, two, three, thirty-three) she makes sure I know what she did to make this all happen and what two words I need to say to her once again.

(it doesn't take all the much, just put on a new face, a small little spell, and charm/worm her way into Angel's, pansy, and the others hearts, piece of cake)

Those words, like the the three little ones I've only ever said to two people in my many lives, were hard for me and those like me (which I hope is just me alone, I love being one of a kind) to say or even think.

"T-thank you, thank you! Now let's get back to number thirty-four, lover."