Angel looked at her with the most stunned expression she'd ever seen on his perpetually stoic face, and despite everything, all the years and all the hurt, she had to fight the urge to smile. "A little much with the shock horror here?" she bantered but very, very carefully, somehow aware that anything she might say might hurt him more than she would ever mean to. She stepped very carefully as she moved to pull the curtains closed and turned to walk out of the room, gesturing for him to follow her and frowning as he just continued to look at her in pained silence.

She took a tentative step toward him, extending a hand almost unthinkingly and then letting it drop heavily to her side. "I'm sorry," she said slowly. "I should have- I shouldn't have just said it that way. I just-"

"It's okay," he said slowly, drawing his eyes to meet hers and flinching as he did so. "It's just- that was a very long time ago and I-"

He stopped, shaking his head, and she took another step toward him, waiting for endless moments for him to continue and biting her lip as he didn't, tilting her head to the side in the old way he knew so well and questioning in a very small voice, "Angel? What are you thinking?"

"I don't know," he replied, blinking rapidly before he looked downward, hiding his eyes from her once more.

"Liar," she said, almost too softly for him to hear her, and he recoiled as though slapped.

"I guess I am," he admitted quietly, and she frowned, taking another step forward before stopping abruptly, not daring to get any closer to his tense form as she said softly,

"How long ago?"

"For you?" he inquired sharply, not needing to ask what she was referring to. "Over ten years."

She nodded slowly, measuring each word carefully as she said softly, "It feels shorter for you."

His eyes flashed up to meet hers again and she took an inadvertent step back at the naked pain she saw in them. "Yes."

"What- happened?" she asked slowly. "Was it a… trick? I- I remember I said something about how the powers might have been- tricksters-"

"Pranksters," he replied unthinkingly, and then flinched as she looked at him in confusion.

"What?"

"The word you used was pranksters."

She bit her lip, having no idea how to respond. "I can't believe you remember that."

"I remember a lot of things," he bit out shortly and she took a step toward him again, whispering,

"I know. I do too. Not-" she blushed, "not of that day, but there have been nights when I just laid awake, remembering every word you ever said to me… nights when I tried to remember the exact tone of your voice that night I asked why you were hanging around me and you said that maybe you liked me-"

A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. "You should have seen the expression on your face when your mother walked in."

She smiled back, relieved that he no longer looked like a stone statue as she retorted, "It's okay, I got to see the expression on yours."

He shook his head in something resembling amusement, but the smile slowly faded from his face as he asked, "How much do you remember?"

"I told you- oh! You mean of- oh!" she said, blushing slightly as she looked down at the floor. "Well, I mean, the broken table was one particularly vivid visual-"

"Which one?" he asked, and she smiled again, thinking he was trying to make a joke and quickly disabused of that notion by the expression on his face.

"Oh!" she squeaked. "There was- more than one?"

He nodded what could only be perceived as bleakly and she frowned slightly, briefly contemplating. "Must've been the first one," she said with certainty. "But how did we-"

"Never mind," he replied in his best 'this portion of the conversation is over' voice and is tone angered her more than it should have as she shook her head vehemently.

"No," Buffy said, voice rising slightly in volume even as she tried to remind herself to be gently with him, "NOT never mind. DEFINITELY mind! We broke multiple tables and I can't remember any of it, and you're trying to tell me to shut up? NO. Now is when you get to tell me what the hell is going on!"

"That's what I don't get," he said carefully, and she sighed in frustration, counting to ten in her head as he continued, "They- the powers promised me you'd never remember any of it and it seemed like- even after you came back from heaven, it seemed like they had told me the truth. I don't understand how a spell as basic as the one Ethan preformed could have been strong enough to-"

"Honestly, I don't remember" she interrupted him, and despite the fact that he had thought that was what he wanted to hear he could feel his face fall as she rushed on, "I could see it but," she shrugged in frustration. "I couldn't feel anything. I mean, I was feeling things in reaction to what was going on in front of me but- I can't remember. It's like- I watched a movie and I have a memory of watching that and what I felt watching that but not of living it." At the look on Angels face she cringed apologetically. "I wish I did. You can't know how much. I could see the memory but it wasn't mine."

"You're lucky," he replied with certainty, which somehow only angered her more.

"I don't think so," she retorted sharply. "I think I'd like to have the memory even if it hurt, because I-" she choked on a half sob as she blurted out, "I don't need to actually remember or to have seen more to know that must have been the happiest day of my life."

"I think it was," he replied softly and she took a frustrated step forward before shaking her head and going to sit cross-legged on a couch that looked only slightly worse for the wear, tentatively gesturing for him to come sit by her. He expelled a long sigh before stalking over, sitting as far from her on the couch as possible.

"What happened?" she asked again and as he looked downward she reached a hand out, against her better judgment cupping his cheek in her hand and forcing his head up, locking eyes with him. "I have to know. Please."

"We had a really great day," he replied carefully, reaching his own hand up and gently but definitely removing her own from his cheek, though he didn't break eye contact. "Or, more accurately, a really great seventeen hours, eight minutes, and twenty-eight seconds."

"Tell me," she said softly, a tear drifting down her cheek for reasons she couldn't fully identify much less understand as he took a shaky and unneeded breath.

"The short version? Do you remember the Morah demon?"

She frowned, brow puckering before she shook her head. "I don't."

He had to fight not to gape at her. "Oh. Do you remember the time you came to see me in LA? After I came to Sunnydale and-"

"Lurked?" she finished with a small smirk, glad to be able to nod. "Right after I started college? Yeah, I remember."

"The demon that crashed in while we were talking?"

She rolled her eyes. "That you got rid of in, like, two seconds flat? What about him?" Her nose wrinkled. "Other than the extreme yuck factor?"

"The first time- that you don't remember- we didn't kill him."

She blinked, then shook her head, standing up in frustration before sitting back down again. "I have so obviously been awake for too long. That doesn't make any sense. What first time?"

"We didn't kill him and I got wounded and some of his blood mixed with mine. The Morah's blood has the ability to turn the supernatural human."

Her mouth formed a small 'oh' before her brow furrowed in confusion again. "But- I don't understand. Where did the day go?"

"I asked the Powers to take it back."

Buffy blinked rapidly, opening her mouth to try to speak, slightly alarmed as no sound came out, and she took a deep breath before beginning carefully, "You asked. The Powers. To take. It back," slowly and incredulously, slamming her mouth shut and biting down HARD on her lip to prevent from saying anything she would certainly later regret, not trusting herself to say more.

"I wasn't strong anymore. I couldn't help you fight."

"I know," Buffy said slowly after an almost unnaturally long pause, nails digging into her palms almost hard enough to draw blood, "that you are NOT saying to me that you gave up mortality because you missed being a superhero. I KNOW that you would not be saying that to me."

"Would it make it easer for you to think I was?"

She looked up at him with confused eyes before slowly, reluctantly shaking her head. "No."

He sighed, closing his eyes so he wouldn't need to face her as he tried to explain, "It wasn't the strength itself. It was that I couldn't protect you."

"I know I'm not hearing this," she said again, slightly hysterically this time and he rushed on, knowing if he didn't say it now he couldn't ever.

"I loved you too much to let you die. You were going to die and I couldn't live with that. I wanted my mortality more than I've ever wanted anything in my life, but I wanted for you to be okay more. Don't you understand that?"

"Okay?" she repeated incredulously. "You wanted me to be okay?"

He looked downward, realizing how silly it sounded now, in light of everything. "Yes."

"Well newsflash," she began angrily, "I have NOT been okay." She opened her mouth to continue but then she looked at his face and, despite everything inside her that cried out for her to scream at him and hurt him as badly as he had hurt her, she suddenly realized that there was no way he could be any more tormented over what had happened than he already was. And so she took a deep breath and prepared to deliberately lie to him for the first time, saying softly,

"You did the wrong thing."

His eyes flashed up to meet hers and they were even more tortured than she had thought they would be as he said hoarsely, "I can't believe that."

"You did the wrong thing," she repeated with more conviction, gently reaching out and grabbing his hand as she hurried on, "You should have told me this a long time ago. You shouldn't have had to go through it alone. I would have understood," she lied, choking past the sob in her throat as she continued. "I- I do. Understand. And- I just wish you hadn't had to go through it alone."

"No," he said, voice hoarse, and if it had been anyone but Angel she would have been scared he was going to start to cry as he whispered, "I wanted to spare you that. There was no reason for you to need to live with what might have been-"

"Why not?" she inquired in genuine confusion, voice breaking slightly. "You had to."

"That was different. I chose it."

"Just because we choose something doesn't mean it hurts us less. How could you not know I would get that?"

"Thank you," he said softly and she looked at him with wide eyes.

"For what?"

"For- trying to understand."

She squeezed his hand. "I do," she lied bravely, wondering when it had become easier to lie than to tell the truth.

Suddenly her close proximity to Angel occurred to her and she recoiled slightly as she realized she'd been unconsciously inclining her head toward his. She scooted backward on the couch, squeezing his hand one more time before releasing it.

"So," she said, trying to keep her voice light and almost deliberately setting out to kill the mood, "When Ethan- what did you see?"

His face closed off again at once and she cringed.

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not? It's not healthy to-"

"I'm not like you," he cut her off. "Talking things through doesn't help me."

She snorted. "Yes, I could see how through your vast experience with talking things through you would have come to that conclusion," she snapped incredulously, then sighed. "Sorry. But I want to explain- whatever I was- I mean, if I can- and I think I can," she babbled slightly nervously, and he narrowed his eyes slightly, inquiring,

"What do you think I saw?"

"NO WAY am I opening that can of worms," she replied incredulously. "I might be impulsive but I'm not a crazy person. Plus, not a fair question. I didn't ask what you thought I saw."

"I thought you saw me and Cordelia," he replied calmly and she flushed.

"Oh." She bit her lip lightly. "So- then you saw me with a guy," she deduced quietly. "Spike?" she ventured. "Because I was at a very bad place in my life when-"

"Connor," he admitted so quietly she wasn't even sure she'd heard him correctly and the silence was deafening as emotions played across her face.

"Oh," she whispered. "Right. Connor."

"You don't have to explain," he said abruptly, standing up rapidly, stunned when she grabbed his wrist and yanked him forcefully back down.

"Oh, I DEFINITELY need to explain," she said firmly.

"I was dead, you were lonely-" but he snapped his mouth shut at the devastated expression on her face.

"What did you see?"

"There was- more than one encounter?" he asked sharply and she frowned slightly before smirking, trying halfheartedly to joke,

"Well, I guess it would be only fair, since we broke more than one table-" stopping at the tortured expression on his face.

"No," she said earnestly, fighting the urge to grab for his hand again. "If you're talking about what I think you're talking about there was only the one encounter. I'm asking what part of it you saw."

"I-don't understand," he replied slowly and she fought the urge to either roll her eyes or let out a frustrated cry as she elaborated,

"I'm asking if you saw he part where we were flirting and kissing or if you saw the part where we were- well, seriously making out in bed- or, um- if you saw the part I started asking him to stop."