Because nobody likes a vague disclaimer: Main character's belong to the fantastical Joss Whedon.

Angel POV.

Chapter VII : To Survive Myself I Forged You Like A Weapon

from Body of a woman by Pablo Neruda

†

"I'm here but I'm just going to crash for the night. It's too late anyway."

"I still need to find her Hotel, but it shouldn't take long. No more than four or five places she could be in this town."

"I'll call you in the morning after I see her."

"Love you too Nina."

†

If there is one thing I can say with certainty, it's that I've always been aware of the paradox that Buffy and I are. Seeing her the first time, on that clear Californian day, I'd known it as surely as the sun burning my eyes. Buffy was beautiful and golden, and I was nothing more than an unlit demon of the night. It was with the conviction that someone as bright as the sun would never notice a monster like me, that I allowed myself to love her. She did however, and everything went to Hell, myself included.

When I came back, I always knew I'd have to leave her someday. In spite of this, a part of me could pretend that she still needed me, if only to help her with her duty. Slowly though, all the little truths started surfacing, things I could no longer refuse. Even after ending it, I still wasn't sure I was making the right decision, that is, until she nearly died because of me. So I left, to protect her.

Truth: To protect myself.

When I erased that day, and learned of the Shanshu, a part of me was sure that someday I'd hold her again, that i'd be worthy enough to deserve her. And despite all the distance between us, and the lack of time together, the few times I saw her when Sunnydale still stood, I had hope. Even when she asked me to leave, even when I could smell Spike on her skin, and see her love for him in her eyes, I still felt that ever-present love I knew I'd always have for her.

Only, that year with Wolfram and Hart changed me in ways I never thought possible. After Spike's resurrection, Andrew's words, and a long night in Rome, that conviction started to fade into the recesses of my mind. So much happened in the span of that year, I'd already lost Connor, then Cordelia, and I'd strayed so far from my mission I didn't know who I was anymore. Fred's death had been the final strand. When Giles refused to help me, something inside just snapped. Even though I'd been dead for over two hundred years, I finally felt it.

I thought it was really over when we took out the Circle, and it hadn't even occurred to me to call her. But then, there she was somehow. The slayer and her warriors interfering in what was supposed to be my glorious end. Seeing her hadn't brought the feelings I thought would undoubtedly surface. Wesley and Gunn were already lost. I didn't feel grateful nor comforted by her presence; being around her felt like a betrayal to my deceased family. I couldn't even look at her without feeling their deaths all around me.

It wasn't her fault, but I blamed her anyway. I was compounded by remorse for my family and anger towards her and those in her camp, so I treated her with apathy and disdain, and the ocean between us held.

After it was all done, and I remained undead, we went our separate ways and I allowed myself to forget. I fell back into Nina's willing arms, and it wasn't until four years later, when she'd lost it all, that I saw her again.

And now here we are. I'm holding her watching her sleep and I can't help but wonder what the hell I've done. Coming here, I never had any intention of doing this. I wanted to help her, to make sure she would be ok. I wanted to say goodbye.

'So break up sex then ?' I ask myself.

I know how capable I am of that, and I love Nina, so what else could it be? I'm not sure what I'm going to say when she wakes up, I know that no matter what I do say, I'll break her heart. It's what I do best when it comes to Buffy.

She wakes a half hour later, when my guilt has had time to fester, causing me to flinch when she reaches out to touch me. I regret my reaction almost instantly, and want to explain, but truthfully I don't really know what to say.

"I'm sorry.." Is all I manage at first.

"Don't bother. I knew what this was from the moment you arrived. Now just go."

She turns away from me then.

I dress as fast as I can, not looking at her, guilt alone obstructing my view. When i'm done, I turn to her motionless back. I long to hold her one last time, but know how impossible that is. It's never worked for us, I know now it never will.

Silently, I put the package I prepared for her on the bed, giving her the only security I can offer.

"I know you don't want to hear it, but i'm sorry. Last night- I never meant-" I pause.

Obviously there's nothing I can say to make this situation any better, and more words are the opposite of helpful so I just drop the issue all together.

"I'll always be here for you, Buffy. Please, don't forget that." And without another word, I leave.

†

After taking a long breakfast (in an effort to kill time truthfully), I make my long trek back to Los Angeles. It's hard to imagine that I was ever a worse monster than I am now. I've done wrong to both the women I love, I've loved (I mentally correct myself) in one single act, and yet I feel as if given the chance to do it all over again, I would choose the same thing.

And that thought only makes me [feel] worse.

I fumble with the radio in an effort to distract myself, turning the dial until I find a familiar tune, which in and of it self is no easy task. Luckily it's an early Saturday morning, and the highway isn't busy.

I find a station that plays nothing but classics, and as I lean back I let my thoughts drift off and the music take over, keeping my eyes firmly on the road.

It's when I enter Californian borders that I remember that I have to make a choice. If I arrive home as I am, she'll know. Nina's acute sense of smell will pick up Buffy's scent all over me, and she'll just know. But the thought of actively trying to keep it from her makes me feel queasy. The right thing is to tell her, I know that.

What I don't get is why I feel too chickenshit to do it. So I drive, and let the chips fall as they may. I deserve no better.

†

"Nina?" I say loudly as I enter our room.

I'd walked into the Hyperion with little spirit, somewhat prepared for the destruction of my relationship with Nina. But she's nowhere to be found. I even check the basement, but it's empty except the cage, as usual.

She's not here either, but I see a square sheet of paper lying in the middle of the made bed.

Angel,

I went out to run a few errands. Just in case you get home before I do, I left you a plate of food in the fridge. You just have to warm it up.

I found a working microwave in one of the suites! So you should have no problems ︎:)

See you soon, Love you!
Nina

I feel both relief and regret, but the chips have fallen and I've been given the chance to make my own choice. With little hesitation, I strip and make a pile of my clothes with some of Nina's, to be washed after, and jump in the shower.

She gets home a couple of hours later with some shopping bags in tow, and though I raise a brow, I say nothing of it.

She shrugs in reply, "I took a me day."

I'm sitting in my chair by the window with, as usual, a book in hand. I've barely read a word in the hour that i've been here, so I close my book on the same page i'd opened it.

I manage to smile at her, "No one deserves it more."

"You are right there," She grins back, flopping onto the bed with the bags before her, so as to inspect her goodies.

"So how did it go with Buffy?" She asks casually, taking a brief glance my way.

And then I know, I can't lie to her. She deserves much more than that.

When I don't answer right away, she looks at me once more, her goodies promptly abandoned.

"Not the way I'd hoped," I finally say.

"Nina, I-"

"I don't need to know." She says interrupting me, her voice forcefully calm.

She turns away from me without another glance, focusing on her purchases once more. As she pulls out a light teal bundle of silk, her movements are too precise, and her breathing is too steady, and it's clear.

She knows.

I start to apologize, "I never-"

"Is she where she needs to be now?" She interrupts once more, keeping her eyes busy on removing the tag attached to what I can now tell is a dress.

I can't tell if the question is literal or metaphorical, but in either case the answer is the same.

"She's gone."

A/N: So someone mentioned in a review that Angel is kind of being not so good, and yeah I agree. I certainly have made him so, as you can tell. I hadn't planned on that, he just came out that way. But thinking about it, when he was a vampire with a soul he had a clear sense of what was right, and what was wrong. But now he's human, and there's no demon and no curse, and life is coursing through him, it makes sense to me, he'd have a hard time with all of it happening at once. Let's not forget who he was before he turned into a vampire. Without the demon, can he really be the same Angel? All I mean is that he's just human, with flaws like anyone else. For so long, he's never put himself first, and now that he can, of course he's all over the place emotionally. And it's interesting juxtaposing how noble he was when he was supposedly a monster, to how he's kind of selfish now that he's human. He is going to learn from his mistakes eventually, but be forewarned, he's going to make his fair share of them in this story.

Ok, sorry for the rant! haha. Buffy next!

thanks again.

Thanks again!