...
She looked up sheepishly, "Oh, this. It's not actually a wedding ring. I sort of wear this to…ahh…keep guys from trying to pick me up at the bar. I'm not really married"
She pulled off the ring and slipped it into her pocket, then raised her hand and held down her thumb and pinky while holding up the three middle fingers, "Slayer's honor."
He still looked uncomfortable with the idea, but she looped her arm around his and dragged him off towards her place.
As they walked she talked, "You won't be intruding, really, like I told you before, Dawn stays at school most of the time and I don't have a lot of friends here. It's nice to have someone to talk to, someone I can be Slayer-Buffy around, and not Pretend-normal-Buffy."
He still looked uncomfortable with the idea, but Buffy had the Slayer strength advantage over him.
...
About twenty minutes later, Buffy stopped in front of a large apartment complex, yellow stucco sandwiched between red brick, and each of the floors had a front and back patio, many of which were covered in houseplants.
Buffy gestured to the top, "I'm in the penthouse."
Angel nodded, "Nice." He said, looking over the building.
She grabbed his hand and led him inside.
The short elevator ride was quiet, in a few seconds they were walking down the hall towards her door.
Buffy unlocked the door and walked in, Angel stood just beyond the threshold.
He looked down at it, she turned and watched him as he slowly walked over it.
"Still getting used to the whole 'no invitation required' thing?" She asked.
He looked up, a slight reddish tint swept over his cheeks, "Old habits." He said with a shrug.
Once he was inside, she shut the door behind him and took his coat and hung it on the coat rack with hers. She led him on a quick tour, the placed wasn't huge, but large enough for her and Dawn when she was home for college breaks.
The apartment led straight into a small living room, neutral tones were offset by deep red throw pillows and blankets on the couch and matching loveseat.
Next she showed him Dawn's room, a lilac bedspread covered the bed, various clothes and items were piled atop it.
"Last time she was here, she was in a hurry looking for something, I thought about neatening it up for her, but I never moved past the thought stage. Plus she'll probably blow a gasket if I did anyways." Buffy tried to explain for the mess.
He grinned and nodded, knowing full well what young woman could be like when you mess with their stuff, especially their clothes. Cordy popped into his head, he frowned at the painful memory.
Next she showed the kitchen, an open area with appliances and counter top running in an 'L' along the walls.
A small rectangular table sat against the other wall, four chairs spread around it.
Outside there was a large patio, a table with two chair sat in the corner.
The large bathroom was mostly just space, a double sink counter top and tub/shower combo the only highlights.
Lastly was Buffy's bedroom, he glanced in, noticing the vanity was set up like the one she used to have in Sunnydale, assorted beauty supplies with pictures and knickknacks.
'No man items, I guess she wasn't lying when she said she wasn't married.' He thought hopeful.
Her weapons chest sat at the foot of the bed, a large wardrobe sat in the corner.
He noticed the place didn't have any closets, just bureaus and wardrobes.
...
Back in the living room she indicated the couch, "Why don't you sit, I'll grab you a drink. Coke? Juice? Water?"
As he sat he looked up, "Water's fine" he replied.
She nodded and disappeared around the corner to get the drinks, talking as she went.
When she came back around the corner she immediately stopped idly rambling when she noticed Angel had fallen asleep where he sat.
'Poor guy, he's more tired than I thought'.
She smiled and put the glasses down on the coffee table.
As quietly and gently as she could, she laid him down, removed his shoes and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and spread it over the sleeping form.
She left one of the glasses on the table, if he woke and wanted a drink, then took the other and went and sat out on the patio.
...
The afternoon sun was warm, she always loved the way it tingled on her skin.
As she sat looking out over the city, her city, she thought the view was much better at night.
Then her mind wandered back to the man sleeping on her couch; she turned around and could see him threw the glass doors, she watch him a few minutes.
She had never forgotten the love she once had for him, nor had it ever really gone away. It got moved aside a few times, rearranged in her heart to make room for new interests, but most of those interests she eventually evicted.
Her heart could only hold so much, sometimes she needed to make room, but his love had never made it on the purge list. It was there, deep inside, she always knew she would love him forever and that it would never change.
She looked away, not wanting her gaze to wake him.
'What happens now? He's human, no more curse, no more creature of the night, no more red tape to get in the way. Would it work like this? Is he even still interested? He did say he wanted to see me. No, I can't concentrate on this right now. I'll go crazy.'
She looked over at him again as she stood and reentered the apartment, 'I'll go shopping, that always helps.'
She took a quick shower, changed clothes and wrote him a note in-case he awoke before she returned.
...
She was only gone for a few hours, not wanting to leave him alone for too long.
She was curious to find she actually missed him over the two-ish hours she was gone.
When she walked in the door a pleasant aroma greeted her nose.
"Mmm, what is that?" she said to herself as she dropped her shopping bags in her room and followed the smell into the kitchen.
Angel hadn't been on the couch when she walked in, but found him by the stove, stirring something that smell absolutely delicious in a pan.
"You cook?" she asked as she walked in, he jumped a bit and she couldn't help but laugh that she had startled him.
'He seems more easily startled lately.' She noticed.
He grinned, "I've been known to put a decent meal together, Cordy said so anyways."
Buffy nodded, "It must be true if Cordelia said it, she's one of the fussiest people I know. What's she been up to? Have to talked to her lately?"
A pained look crossed his face, in a low voice he said, "She passed about three years ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry." She replied sincerely, she might not have liked Cordelia as a person, but she wasn't happy to hear she had died.
"Hungry?" he asked to change the subject.
"Borderline starved." She replied, only having eaten a real meal that morning with him at the café. "What is it?" she asked taking a deep breath of the yummy smelling food.
"Just some stuff from your refrigerator, leftovers mostly." He said as he opened one of the jars on her spice rack and added a few sprinkles.
Buffy raised an eyebrow, "Huh? You can eat those? I just thought it was for decoration."
He didn't know if she was making a joke or not, but he smiled one of his classic half smiles and told her they were indeed edible.
...
Ten minutes later they were seated at the kitchen table and Buffy was saying, "Mmm" at just about every bite.
"With culinary skills like these you could be a chef, hey, there you go! You can open a restaurant! That's a nice normal job, you know to go along with the being nice and normal now. You can call it Angel's, ok yeah not very original, but it's catchy. I can eat there every night and dance on the tables in the evening wearing plastic party hats while wrestling demons…" She trailed off noticing he wasn't listening, which was obvious since he completely ignored her last sentence.
"Angel?" she asked, then she waved her hand in front of his face.
"Angel!"
He jumped, "What? I umm…sorry. I guess I'm a little distracted." He replied sheepishly at being caught zoned out.
"Ya think?" she said, adding, "What's up? You've been jittery all day. Talk to me Angel, what happened to you, where have you been, how are you alive?" She more or less demanded, more rather than less.
He looked at his plate a moment, then out the window, he then pushed his seat out from the table and stood, quickly retreating into the living room.
Buffy followed hot on his heels.
...
She caught his arm and paused him in front of the couch. When he didn't turn to look at her she pushed him down into the sofa, sitting beside him with her hand still firmly but gently locked onto his arm to keep him there.
"Angel, please, just tell me what's going on."
He was silent, she thought he wouldn't answer but he did, slowly but surely.
"Hexlar. He's a demon bounty hunter. Been after me for almost two years now. I'm not sure how, but he's the one that made me mortal. I don't even now how long it will last. All I do know is he wants me dead, and he won't stop until I am."
She turned his face towards hers, their eyes met briefly and he looked away.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here. I just…" he trailed off and went silent.
"Just what?" she urged.
He took a breath, a needed breath, which still was weird for him. "I…just wanted to see you again. I was just going to look, see that you were happy, then I was going to go."
"You didn't." she stated.
"No, I knew you sensed me. I wouldn't have been able to outrun you, not like this." He admitted.
They were both silent a while, then she broke the silence, "You came to say good-bye."
He looked down then nodded.
She got mad at him for that, "So you gave up? Decided to let this guy kill you? Hello! Slayer here! I'm designed to kill creeps like this Hexagon guy." She scolded at him.
He closed his eyes, "I'm just so tired Buffy. I've fought for so long now, sacrificed so much, and lost too many people along the way. If you include a century of hell, I'm almost 400 years old. Maybe it's my time, I think I'm ready." He admitted.
Buffy punched him hard in the arm.
"Ow!" he yelped and rubbed the already forming bruise.
"Good, maybe the pain will smarten you up. You're not a quitter Angel. You're not a coward. You don't back down. I know that because you taught them to me. Now if you expect me to sit here and let you get yourself killed, you're a lot dumber than I thought."
He looked over at her, reading the sheer determination in her face. He felt a lot of pride in her in that moment, a lot of love too.
"Would you really just throw this away?" she asked with her hand laying over his beating heart.
He looked down at her fingers, perfectly manicured and painted with light pink polish.
His eyes rose to look into hers, hazel green orbs demanding an answer.
"It might not last." He told her.
She shook her head, "Doesn't matter. There are very few things in this world worth sacrificing your life, this isn't one of them."
He nodded, a sad look crossed his lips as he remembered Christmas of 1998, "Yeah, Strong is fighting. It's hard, and it's painful, and it's every day. It's what we have to do. I remember."
She nodded, "Good, because I have no idea how to make that magic snow thing happen again."
He let a small grin escape, "That was pretty neat."
"Yeah, it was." She agreed.
...
She shifted away from him and rose to her feet, "You're exhausted Angel, lay down, sleep. We'll figure out this bounty hunter guy tomorrow." She urged.
He nodded and did as she asked.
After cleaning up the kitchen she noticed him curled up on her couch, sound asleep.
'He looks like he hasn't slept in years…maybe he hasn't? Not with that demon chasing him...'
He seemed too motionless; she walked over just to comfort herself that he was actually sleeping and not revamped. His quiet snores reassured her he was still among the living.
...
She wandered into her room and pulled out the items she had bought, noticing her lack of guy friendly things, she had purchased him a an outfit, some sweats to sleep in, and a few men's toiletries, like a toothbrush and razor.
She hoped she bought the right size clothes, he didn't physically look any different from the day he stood shirtless in her mother's kitchen as she patched up his wound caused by The Three, but it had been a long, long time since that day, a long time to try and remember what his size was.
She was sitting on her bed daydreaming of a shirtless Angel and more innocent times when the loud crash of shattering glass pulled her back to reality. 'What the Hell?' she wondered as she ran into the living room.
...
She arrived in time to watch a very pissed demon raise a sword over Angel's head.
With experienced Slayer speed, she jumped across the distance and kicked at the demon's head, knocking him away from a half-conscious looking Angel.
"Got yourself a bodyguard Angelus? A Slayer at that…you really are pathetic…I should do this job for free, you give demons everywhere a bad reputation." The demon spoke as he defended against Buffy's assault.
"You're a lively one ain't cha?" He asked the Slayer as they fought, he seemed to be defending himself easily.
"Pretty one too. Names Hexlar, please to assassinate in your presence."
He punched her hard and she flew into Dawn's room, colliding with the wardrobe and collapsing in a painful heap of broken wood and ruined clothes.
...
"Now Angelus, I do believe it's time for me to kill you."
Angel had been recovering from a blow to the head received earlier when Hexlar broke into Buffy's apartment via back porch glass doors.
The former vampire managed to get to his feet, wiping the blood from his eyes.
He knew he was no match for the demon, not as a man anyways.
Didn't mean he wasn't going to try.
"This is between you and me, leave the girl out of it." Angel demanded, hoping Buffy wouldn't hate him too much for dying in her living room.
He knew this was going to end with him dead.
'Why did I come here? Why did I have to involve her? Me and my stupid 'just see her one more time crap' will probably get her killed…or more likely get her apartment ruined and her cursing my grave for it.'
Angel took a battle stance and prepared to fight to the last.
'At least I'll get to die a man.' was his only comfort.
"Don't know Angelus, that Slayer has a wanted list almost as long as yours. She just might make me enough to retire."
Angel clenched his fists, "I'd like to see you try."
Hexlar smirked, his pointed teeth protruding from his blue lips, "I bet you would, too bad you'll be dead."
With that said the fight began.
...
Hexlar was a good two feet taller than Angel, a thin frame was deceiving to the strength he carried.
Blue skin covered his body, quill like spines for hair and knife sharp claws adorned each of his six fingers.
Hexlar was a demon bounty hunter, and he always got his 'man', whether it be human or demon or something in between. As long as the job paid well, he'd kill just about anything.
Angel dove forward, hoping to take out the demon's legs; he knew he wouldn't win this match playing fair, so he went for a low blow to bring him down to the ground.
That didn't work out so well.
Hexlar lifted his knee the last second and Angel's face was smashed into it, blood exploded from the broken nose that ensued.
The newly human man dropped to the ground, tears blurring his vision from the pain, mortal pain he wasn't used to yet.
The blue demon kick his prey ferociously in the stomach and then the ribs, Angel felt something give on the second blow.
He coughed, the very familiar taste of blood in his mouth made him cringe.
Hexlar bent down to finish this pathetic excuse for a fight and crush Angel's neck, but the former managed to spin away, throwing a handful of shattered glass into the blue eyes for good measure.
Hexlar roared in pain as his eyes bled, "Playtime's over, time to die." He growled as he lifted his leg, ready to stomp Angel into mush.
He would have succeeded too, had a very pissed Slayer not tackled him to the ground first.
"That wardrobe was my mother's!" Buffy yelled as she wailed punches down on the hunter's face.
After a few blows the demon managed to regain its senses and punch Buffy off.
"Ok, Slayer bitch first, blood-rat second." Hexlar amended his earlier killing order as he stood and prepared to fight.
Buffy circled him, more that ready to rip this sshole a new one…or two...or three.
A moment later Slayer and demon were locked in battle.
...
Angel shook off his fatigue and clawed at consciousness, 'Damn, I've barely been in this fight and I feel like I've gone twenty rounds, how do humans handle this?'
He looked up and watched the fight before him. 'Crap. Buffy needs a weapon.'
He looked over towards her bedroom and quickly forced himself to stand and limp into it.
He collapsed on the floor in front of the weapons chest, his right hand shredded by the glass he threw earlier he was forced to fiddle with the lock with his left.
He blinked blood from his eyes and pushed the spots he saw dancing in his vision to the back of his head.
'No, not now, pass out after you get Buffy weapons.'
He managed to get the trunk open and rummaged for something suitable.
He grabbed a few knives, a spiked mace and a crossbow, awkwardly and painfully he walked back towards the battle, hoping he made it on time and he didn't pass out on the way.
...
Buffy felt the ground smash into her back as she struggled for air.
Hexlar had her pinned beneath him, his full weight crushing down on her throat.
The bounty hunter loved to strangle and suffocate his kills, it was the reason he got out of bed – or the slime pit rather – each morning.
The Slayer felt the world drift, her lungs were screaming for air, her head felt a hundred times too heavy.
'And the day started out so well…'
...
Hexlar's grip suddenly released as he screamed in pain.
Angel stood by her bedroom door, leaning against the wall for support, and held her crossbow in his left hand.
He was trying to reload it, but the tendons were torn in his right hand, making it almost impossible to hold while pulling the string back.
'Damn it, stupid human coordination.'
Angel cursed himself for not delivering a deathblow on his first and seemingly only shot. He dropped the useless weapon and held the mace, hoping to buy Buffy enough time to kill this creep.
He spun the ball; the muscles in the arm knowing how but his human strength and coordination not quiet up to speed.
'I had to pick the mace…dumbass.'
...
Hexlar charged him, Angel swung the ball and to his astonishment his aim was true.
The spikes slammed into the demon's face before he could duck.
Angel's euphoria was short lived, two blue clawed hands shot up and ripped the mace for its face, the spikes doing a wonderful job in disfiguring, but not nearly enough damage to bring down the raging demon.
Hexlar screamed furiously in his native tongue, then ran at the human man barely standing before him.
Hexlar drove into him, crashing them both though the wall and into Buffy's bedroom.
Angel felt the world blacken as his consciousness slipped away, however peace was too agonizingly short.
His eyes shot open as the demon rammed a broken piece of wood through his chest.
...
Buffy collided with the demon, throwing off his aim.
A second later she sunk one of the two knifes Angel brought into the demon's back, the second she quickly used to decapitate it…just in case.
Hexlar screamed, then his scream ended forever.
His body convulsed then shattered like glass, disappearing as if he was never there.
"I love it when they do that!" Buffy said with a smile.
Her smile dropped when she noticed Angel lying at her feet, a length of wood protruding from his chest.
"Angel!" she cried and collapsed beside him, his eyes were open but unfocused.
She knew he was still alive, his horrible ragged gasping for breath was a terrible indication.
"Angel, can you hear me?" she pleaded as she slid a hand along his cheek and inspected the wound, it wasn't in his heart as Hexlar intended, but as a human it didn't need to be in order to kill him.
Angel's eyes slowly focused on her, "Buffy?" he croaked, barely more than a wet cough, blood thick on his tongue.
"Shh, don't talk, just breathe ok? I'm calling am ambulance, you'll be ok. Just stay with me, stay awake. Angel? Angel!"
He heard her calling him, but it was getting further away and he couldn't answer.
The darkness was calling to him, promising relief from the pain.
He didn't want to die, but he couldn't fight the allure of peace.
Buffy screamed his name as he went limp, as oblivion took him in its comforting embrace.
…
TBC...