On the Road to Redemption
By Ralkana

Disclaimer – I don’t own them; Joss and Mutant Enemy and all the various other Powers That Be do. If I owned them, I’m pretty sure they'd be much, much happier.

Comments and feedback to Ralkana47@yahoo.com would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!

Timeline – Mid S4/S1, after IWRY but before This Year's Girl.

Author's Note – Let's pretend Buffy told Riley about Angel a little bit earlier than she did in canon.

Spoilers – Everything in general, nothing in particular. Oh, except maybe one for the end of Hero. That's all I can think of.

Website - http://www.ralkana.com

Thanks to Maquis Leader for the title.

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Buffy stripped off her jacket and tossed it on her bed, wincing as her sore shoulder protested at the movement. She glanced in the mirror, groaning at the image as she wiped ineffectually at the dried grime that coated the skin of her arms and face.

“Orange is so not my color…”

She set about cleaning herself and her weapons up, but she stopped and raised her head when she felt a weird tingle deep in the pit of her stomach. It was a familiar feeling, but she hadn’t felt it in months, not since…

Pressing her lips in a thin line, she ignored the sensation. “Not going there.”

She went back to her clean-up effort, but she was distracted. She dropped the last stake in her trunk and shoved it back into its hiding spot, and she was just about to peel off her ruined clothes for a hot shower when there was a knock on the door.

With an aggravated sigh, she stalked over to the door. Whoever was there was about to get a faceful of Slayer exhaustion and frustration. Her pointed order to come back later died on her lips.

Angel stood there, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his familiar duster. His head was down and his shoulders were hunched as he tried – impossibly – to make himself blend into the background. His beautiful, soulful eyes held pain and uncertainty and something she couldn’t quite read. Something she thought might be hope, but it had been a very long time since she had seen anything like that in his eyes.

He tried to smile and failed. He took in her appearance, and his eyes widened. He looked as if he was debating on asking her what had happened, but he appeared to decide against it, settling on a familiar greeting.

“Buffy.”

“Angel,” she replied flatly. His arrival and the maelstrom of emotions he brought with him, combined with her exhaustion from her earlier patrol, suddenly became too much. She sighed in annoyance. “What are you doing here? I thought we decided—“

“I know. But I had… there’s something… I have to tell you something.”

They stared at each other in silence for a moment. The moment stretched out. Finally, she rolled her eyes and nodded, motioning with a hand for him to speak.

“So, tell.”

His shoulders slumped even further as he dropped his eyes, and when he raised them again, his gaze darted from side to side, taking in the open dorm room doors and the students walking up and down the hall.

“It’s not exactly hallway conversation,” he muttered.

With another frustrated sigh, she whirled around and stalked deep into the room, trying desperately to put some much needed space between them. She faced the window, closing her eyes as it reflected her, the room, the open door, and nothing else. When there was no sound or movement from behind her, she turned around to face him again. Her breath caught at the sight of him, still standing in the open doorway, head hanging in misery and humiliation.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, hoping desperately that he could tell she meant it. She hadn’t intended to make him feel bad. Well, maybe she did for his sudden appearance, but not for what he was, who he was. “Come in, Angel.”

He stepped into the room, shutting the door softly behind him. Her anger suddenly flared at the sight of Angel in her dorm room, a sight she had so fiercely wanted to see, a wish she had cried over so often.

“Well, what is it? Am I in danger? There’s a shocker. Did your little friend have another vision of damsel Buffy in distress? He’s certainly super helpful. Hope you’re paying him enough.”

Anger flickered in his eyes at the harsh tone of her words, but it transformed into grief at her last sentences.

“Doyle’s dead,” he said flatly, staring at the ground.

Buffy’s gut twisted in anguish at his pain, pain she’d caused him. But the anger rose again, rage that he could still affect her so profoundly, so many months after he’d walked away from her. She did her best to tamp it down.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “He… seemed nice.”

“He was the first true friend I’ve had in a very, very long time. Maybe ever,” he amended. Before the pain of his words could set in, he raised his eyes to her. “You know that your… friendship was… is on a completely different level.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, walling herself off and retreating madly from her feelings and that line of conversation.

“So, no vision then…”

He shook his head. “No. No vision. Well, actually… that’s not quite true. Buffy, something’s happened. I just… I don’t know what it means, if it even means anything at all. I just wanted… I didn’t want you to find out from Cordelia or someone else…”

He trailed off, staring down at his hands, and she felt like shaking him.

“Angel…”

He jumped, having been lost in thought.

“Sorry. I… I guess I’ll have to tell you from the beginning. Last night, I was out hunting these demons that Cordy—“

There was a knock on the door. Buffy felt like screaming in frustration. She stomped over to the door and yanked it open.

“What?! Oh, Riley, hi.”

“Hi. Saw your light on, thought I’d come up and say hi. So, hi.”

He leaned in to kiss her, and there was a brief war within her. Part of her – a huge part – wanted to fling him out and go back in to Angel. Part of her was rejoicing in his presence and in the kiss, but not for the reason she should be happy about it. Let Angel see. Let him see the normal life he wanted for you! Another part of her protested that it wasn’t fair – to any of them – to use Riley’s obvious affection for her to make Angel jealous. By the time she had decided to stop him, the short, sweet kiss was over. Riley pulled back to look at her, smiling happily. There was a tiny sound behind her, and she backed into the room. This is gonna be fun…

Riley came in, stopping short at the sight of Angel standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“Friend of Willow’s?” he asked warily.

“Riley, Angel. Angel, Riley.”

Both men’s eyes narrowed. Riley stepped closer and wrapped a possessive arm around Buffy’s waist, and to the surprise of them all, she allowed him to.

“Hello,” he muttered. Angel merely nodded in acknowledgement.

Buffy smiled brightly, idly wondering if Riley could tell how fake it was. Angel, she was sure, knew without a shadow of a doubt. She abruptly clamped the lid on that thought.

“I should go.”

“No argument from me,” Riley said tightly.

“Riley,” she warned as Angel’s hands twitched. She knew he was struggling to control himself, and she really didn’t want to clean blood or dust out of the carpet. She took a deep breath.

“Did you have something you wanted to tell me, Angel? ‘Cos if you do, I’d appreciate it if you’d get to the point. Riley and I kinda have plans.”

Her eyes widened at her own words. Where the hell did that come from?Apparently, the bitter part of her was in control tonight. She slowly looked at his face, steeling herself against the pain and the anger she knew would be swimming in his eyes. Angel might be a man of few words, but Buffy could see his every thought and feeling in his eyes.

There was no anger there. No ire and no bitterness and no jealousy. And certainly none of that tiny spark of hope she thought she’d glimpsed earlier. There was only a horrible, bottomless despair.

Buffy felt tears spring to her own eyes, and Riley, perhaps sensing her precarious hold on her self-control, clutched her closer.

“I’m sorry,” Angel finally said. His voice trembled slightly, and he cleared his throat. “I won’t bother you any longer.” He stared at the couple for a long, interminable moment, and then he looked away. He fixed his eyes on her again, and she felt like she was drowning in those dark, despondent pools. He nodded once. “Goodbye, Buffy.”

And then, before she could even register his impending departure, the door was closing behind him. She sagged against Riley.

“You okay?” he asked, and she nodded, though she felt far from okay. “What was he doing here?”

Buffy was still staring at the closed door. “He… he said he had to tell me something. Guess it wasn’t important,” she finished with a shrug. Right. That’s why he came all the way from LA to tell you. With a frown, she shrugged off that thought. Riley swung around to face her, taking her hands in his.

“So,” he said with a hopeful grin. “We have plans?”

She grinned back, though it felt horribly wrong. “We do now. Let’s go out.”

She had to get away from this room before she started thinking too much about Angel’s visit. Riley looked her up and down and chuckled.

“You gonna hit the showers, champ, or are you trying to start a new fashion trend? Is orange in this season?”

She stared down at herself, finally noticing that she was still covered in ick.

“You don’t like the new look?” she teased, trying desperately to flirt with him, to act like everything was normal and Angel’s appearance hadn’t once again ripped her foundations from beneath her.

“On the contrary, I love it. You look beautiful even covered in demon goo,” he said with a winning smile, but her answering smile faded as his words sank in.

I’ll love you, even if you’re covered with slime…

I won’t bother you any longer… Goodbye, Buffy.

With a shaky gasp, she dropped Riley’s hands. “Oh my God!”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed.

“He said goodbye!”

Now Riley just looked confused. “I know. I was there. What does that—“

“No, you don’t understand! He never says goodbye!”

Riley stared at her. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it? I mean, maybe he’s finally gonna—“

“I have to find him.”

“Buffy!”

“Riley, he came here tonight to tell me something. He could have just called, but he drove all the way here. Something’s up, and I need to know what it is. I have to talk to him. I’ll… I’ll call you later!” she said, grabbing a jacket and pulling her emergency stake out of her bedside table. “Can you please lock the door on your way out?” she called as she flew out the door, leaving an astonished Riley behind.

She burst out the front doors of Stevenson Hall and stopped abruptly. She had no idea where to go. For all she knew, he was on the freeway back to LA. But the tingle in her stomach was too strong, and that told her he was still in Sunnydale. And there was only once place she could think of where he’d be. She hoped to God she was right.

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Angel didn’t even look up as Buffy came through the mansion’s front door. He simply went on dumping things into piles on the dusty couch.

“Well, that’s one plus to being human, I guess,” he said harshly. “You can barge into someone’s home whether or not you’re welcome.”

Buffy recoiled slightly at his words but went on staring at him. “What are you doing?”

He glared at her. “Baking a cake. What does it look like I’m doing?” he growled before heading back into the bedroom and grabbing another handful of possessions. “I’m packing. Or finishing packing. I should have taken all this stuff months ago,” he finished as he came back into the room.

“Why didn’t you?” she asked, moving closer.

He glanced at her, and she caught yet another glimpse of his unbearably desolate eyes. He sighed and looked away, continuing his sorting.

“I don’t know. I guess I left it here in case I wanted… needed to come back here one day. But it’s clear to me now that there’s absolutely no reason for me to come back to Sunnydale, so I figured I’d take it all with me. Why are you here? I thought you had plans.”

“Why did you come here, Angel?”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters, dammit! You came here to drop some huge bomb on me, and I wanna know what it was!”

“Just go. Go keep your date with Riley.”

“Oh no. You don’t get to sound all wounded, Angel. Not when you’re the one who left me so that I could have a normal life. Riley is that normal life—“

“Don’t you think I know that?” he said, staring defiantly at her. “You think knowing I’m responsible makes it hurt any less? Just go, Buffy!” he snarled, heading for the bedroom again.

“Oh, right. I forgot. You left for my own good, ‘cos little Buffy wasn’t adult enough to make her own decisions. You know, I guess that’s the difference between the two of you. Riley won’t run out when things get tough! He loves me and he’s willing to give everything to this relationship.”

Angel stopped, his back still to her. Finally! she thought. Finally she’d found something that pissed him off enough to keep him from retreating. Now, they’d get it all out. It would probably hurt like hell, and she knew that what she’d said had to have hurt him, but she needed to know why he was here.

“Get out,” he hissed. Her eyes widened. Okay, this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.

“Angel—“

“You have no idea how much I love you, Buffy, what I’ve given – just… leave.”

His shoulders were shaking, and she couldn’t tell if it was from tears or from rage, but his words didn’t sound like they had been spoken around a mouthful of fangs. If it was rage that was affecting him so much, he’d have vamped out. She came closer and warily put a hand on his shoulder.

Angel exploded with a growl, whipping around and shoving her hand away from him. The low light glinted off the tears coursing down his pale cheeks.

“GET OUT!” he roared.

His beautiful features blurred in the tears that suddenly filled her eyes, and she fled.

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Buffy practically ran down the street for several minutes, breath hitching as the tears tore from her. After a while, she calmed down and stopped, gripping the stake in her hand as she peered around. She didn’t really expect anything to attack her this far from Sunnydale’s various cemeteries, but there was no way to tell for sure how the Hellmouth would make the uglies act.

“No, dammit,” she muttered to herself. “That’s not how it’s gonna end. If he’s not gonna tell me, I’ll find out some other way.”

At the next major cross street, she turned, trying to think of where she could go. The bus station loomed before her, and she smiled. It was perfect. Well lit, and busy enough so that her conversation wouldn’t stand out and draw attention, and yet not crowded enough to worry about people overhearing her. Shoving the stake into her jacket, she made her way to a bank of pay phones. Silently thanking her mother for giving her the calling card she hadn’t yet used, she dialed the number she’d memorized long ago but had never before called.

“Angel Investigations,” a male voice said in a clipped, British accent. Buffy’s brow furrowed. The voice sounded familiar…

“Wesley?”

“Yes, Wesley Wyndham-Price here. Who’s calling, please?”

“It’s Buffy. What are you – never mind. Can I speak to Cordelia?”

“Ah, Buffy. Hello. I assume Angel—“

His voice abruptly cut off and Buffy could hear a brief scuffle over the line. Then, another familiar voice spoke.

“You’re welcome.”

“Huh? Cordelia, Angel—“

“You’re welcome. I’m the one who convinced Angel to go see you… and all of a sudden, it’s pretty clear you’re not calling to thank me. What happened?” she demanded.

“That’s my question. Angel came here to tell me something, but he didn’t… we had… can you please just tell me what’s been going on?”

“Well, considering that the only reason he went to Sunnydale was to tell you and you’ve obviously seen him and he hasn’t told you, I’m guessing things didn’t go according to plan. What did you say to him, Buffy?”

“Cordelia—“

“When he left here he was the happiest and most hopeful I’ve ever seen him. Well, post-evil-Angel, anyway. So if you did something to change that, if you hurt him, you’re gonna have to deal with me. Got it?”

Buffy stared at the phone in shock. Cordelia Chase was playing mama bear? To Angel?

“What did you say to him?”

“We had an argument. Look, Cordy—“

“Oh great. It figures. I don’t know why I even bothered to convince him to go to you. I bet you didn’t even give him a chance to talk, did you? You probably just went and rubbed his nose in your perfect, normal life and—“

“Dammit, Cordelia, just tell me what the hell is going on!”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Then, Cordelia said in a haughty voice, “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”

“Cordelia, if you don’t tell me what happened to Angel, I swear to God I’ll—“

“You’ll what? You gonna come up here and beat it out of me, Little Miss Violent?”

There was another brief fight, and Buffy heard Wesley’s voice growing closer. “—ve me the phone! Buffy? How is Angel?”

“Not that great. He’s upset. So am I. I might be able to do something to fix things if I knew what was going on! And what are you doing there, anyway?”

“I’m working with Angel and Cordelia now. As for what’s happened, I, like Cordelia, am not sure it’s my place to say, but I’ll tell you nonetheless.”

“Thank you,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Last night, after Angel returned home from fighting several demons Cordelia saw in a vision—“

“What? Cordelia had a vision? Since when does Cordy see anything more than the pages of the latest issue of Cosmo?”

“Doyle somehow passed them to her before his death.”

“Okay…”

“As I said, after Angel returned home, Cordelia had a second vision, and it appeared that the Oracles were summoning Angel.”

“The who?”

“Oracles. Voices for the Powers that Be.”

“You lost me.”

“Angel is a warrior for good. The Powers that Be are the beings in charge of… well, everything.”

“God,” she said skeptically.

“Well, yes.”

“Right. So these Oreos—”

“Oracles.”

“Whatever. What’d they tell Angel?”

“I gathered, from what he said in his rather stunned state, that they informed him that he is on the path to redemption. That along the way to his ultimate reward, he’ll be granted certain gifts in return for his valiant fight for the cause of good. And one of those gifts was given to him last night.”

“Redemption? Ultimate reward? What gift?”

“He didn’t say much about the ultimate reward. I’m not certain if they didn’t tell him anything more or if he just didn’t share it with us. As for the gift he was given last night, well, it appears his soul is bound.”

Buffy slumped against the wall. “What?”

“His soul. It appears to be permanent.”

“The curse…”

“No longer applies.”

“Oh my God…”

“Buffy—“

“I have to go. Thank you, Wesley,” she said, dazedly hanging up the phone. “Now what?” she whispered.

Angel had come to her to share with her what was undoubtedly the most momentous news in his life, and she’d done nothing but cause him grief and pain. She’d taunted him, insulted him, and belittled his words, his deeds, his sacrifices, everything he did and was. And then, she’d thrown Riley in his face. No wonder he didn’t want to talk to her.

She felt tears threaten again, and she raised a hand, covering her face as she leaned against the wall. For several moments, she was motionless. Then she felt a presence nearby and she tensed, hastily wiping away the remnants of her tears.

“Miss? Is everything okay?”

It was a police officer. Young, probably not yet used to the horrors of Sunnydale at night. No seasoned officer on the Sunnydale force would approach anyone after dark unless something violent was going on. And even then, it was likely they’d stay away.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, giving the officer a smile. He glanced at her suspiciously and she realized she was still coated in orange demon blood. "Um... accident with orange sherbet and an ice cream maker, boy when they say use with parental supervision only, they aren't kidding," she laughed nervously.

He stared hard at her for a second, unamused, and then he nodded and moved on. Maybe he's not that new to the force after all... She left the bus station, pulling out her stake, and broke into a run. She had to get to the mansion. She had to talk to him before he left for LA. If she didn’t, she was sure she’d never see him again.

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She arrived just as Angel was closing the trunk of a long, black convertible. Despite the situation, she smiled wryly. Angel had to be the only vampire in the world who’d choose a convertible.

“Nice car,” she said weakly. He just glared at her.

“I thought I told you to get out.”

“I’m out. Witness me, outside.”

“Buffy—“

“Look, you and I both know I don’t follow orders. We’re having this conversation, Angel. Deal.”

“Why? So you can tell me again how much Riley loves you? How much he’s willing to sacrifice for you? I heard the first time. Go home.”

“I talked to Cordy. I know why you’re here.”

“So you know. Then why are you still standing here?”

“Dammit, Angel, I’m sorry. I said some awful things to you, I know that. But you can’t just waltz back in here and expect everything to just be perfect!”

“Do you think that’s what I expected? Do you know how long it took Cordy to convince me to come back here? To tell you at all? I didn’t expect you to throw me a welcome back party, Buffy, but I was hoping maybe we could talk. For five minutes. That I could tell you this without all the… acid.”

“Angel, I—“

“I didn’t come here to ask you to give me another chance, Buffy, and even if I had, I can see now that it would’ve been pointless. I only came because she convinced me that you deserved to know the truth, and I knew that if you found out from her or someone else, you’d never forgive me.”

“Why not?” she yelled. When she saw the confusion in his eyes, she sighed and threw out her arms. “God, Angel! Why aren’t you here to give us another chance? This changes everything!”

He stared at her in shock. After several moments of silence, he said in a low voice, “This changes nothing, Buffy. I’m still a vampire. I can’t give you—“

“And you’ve still never asked me what I want, Angel! I don’t want sunshine or children or corn-fed All-American boys! I want darkness and passion and… and… love bites! Dammit, I want you!” she said, poking him in the chest with a finger. When he didn’t answer, still dazed, she asked shakily, “Why did you leave me, Angel?”

He blinked a couple of times. “Wha… I… you just told me everything I said when I left. Sounds to me like you know why—“

“No. Those are the excuses. I want to know the reason. I don’t believe that you did it out of nobility, or for my own good, or any of that crap. You ran away, Angel. And I wanna know why.”

Angel stared at her for a long time. He was wrestling with his thoughts, she could tell, and she stared back with determination on her face. He was going to tell her, whatever it took. Finally, he looked at the ground, shoving his hands into the pockets of his duster.

“Because,” he murmured. “Because every moment that I stayed here, at your side, every single moment, I was putting at risk the only thing in my long, disastrous life that has ever meant anything. And I was terrified.”

She gaped at him. That was not what she had expected him to say. She wasn’t sure what she had expected him to say, actually. He shook his head, giving her a sad smile.

“Don’t you understand, Buffy? My life, none of it – not as Liam, or Angelus, or the wretch I was before I became the Angel you know – meant anything until the day I hid in the shadows and watched you walk down those steps in the sunlight. I’d gone through all of it – my birth, my death at Darla’s hands, my rebirth at the hands of the Kalderash – for the sole purpose of protecting you.”

Buffy blinked back tears at his words. From another man, from anyone else, they might have sounded overly emotional and melodramatic, but she knew that Angel meant them with everything in him. The last of his words sank in, and she laughed. It was a sharp, harsh laugh.

“Well, you’re sure doing a bang-up job protecting me from LA.”

His anger flared. “You don’t understand. You haven’t understood a single word I’ve said. I couldn’t stay, Buffy, knowing that with every second I was here, I was running the risk of not only being unable to protect you, but becoming the one to destroy you.”

“So you left me because you didn’t think you could control your hormones. Do vampires have hormones? You have more in common with other men than you think, Angel.”

“Dammit, it’s not about the hormones! It’s not about sex! Why does everybody think it’s about sex?!”

“Angel, calm down.”

“Do you think I’m some teenager, some boy who can’t control himself? Every time I held you in my arms, Buffy, I was happy. Do you know where the line is between happiness and true happiness? Huh? Can you show it to me? Because I don’t know where it is. Do you know what it was like, every time you touched me, every time you smiled at me, to feel such joy and then to think ‘What if this is it? What if that’s the line?’ To know that one more kiss from you might be the thing that would unleash the monster that would kill everyone you cared about, everyone I cared about?”

Buffy leaned weakly against the side of Angel’s car. They had rarely talked about his demon, and they had certainly never talked in depth about what had triggered his release. And he had never let her see how much the idea of Angelus’ reappearance frightened him. His fear was almost tangible. It radiated from every tense line in his body.

“But… Angel… it wasn’t a kiss that released him. It was… sex.”

“I know. I know that. I knew that. But I also knew that I would never have that kind of perfection with you, ever again, because of that fact. So who’s to say that now a kiss isn’t the trigger? That, knowing what I can’t have, getting what I can have isn’t enough to let him out?”

He had pushed away from the car, and he was pacing now. Tight, worried circles in front of where she leaned against the fender.

“I remember, Buffy; God, I remember everything. I remember every vicious thought, every taunt, every punch and kick I aimed at you. And I remember every tear you cried and every bruise I gave you. And I remember the joy I felt at the thought of your destruction. The elation I felt at the thought of wrapping my hands around your throat, of torturing you and watching you die slowly, in more agony than you can imagine. And I remember all the minutely detailed plans I had of turning you, of watching you rise, of making you a monster. A monster like me. Oh God!”

His voice broke, and that smashed through the horror of his words. Before she realized what she was doing, he was wrapped in her arms and she was cradling his head on her shoulder, trying to soothe him. She ran her fingers through his thick, soft hair, rocking him as he trembled. She wasn’t sure if he was crying, but he was definitely not in a good way, emotionally speaking.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “I c-can’t… I’m sorry, Buffy…”

“Shh… shh, Angel, it’s okay. It’s okay. He’s gone. He can’t ever come back now. Angel, the demon can’t ever come back. Your soul is yours now. Angelus can never hurt me – or you – again.”

Gradually, he calmed, and she whispered once more, “He’s gone now, Angel. For good.”

He raised his head slowly, and the look he gave her was so full of wonder that she had to chuckle softly.

“It hadn’t really hit you yet, had it?”

He shook his head, and she smiled, taking his hand. The familiar feeling of his large, cool fingers solidly entwined with her small, warm ones was nearly enough to make her lose the last of her own self-control.

“Didn’t think it had. Come on, let’s finish this inside. It’s a good thing you don’t have any close neighbors. We haven’t exactly been very quiet about this.”

“Buffy, I—“

“Please, Angel?”

He nodded and followed her inside, sitting beside her on the now empty couch. She glanced at it and gave him a worried grin.

“I got here just in time, didn’t I?” When he nodded, she huffed out a breath. “Well, Cordelia wasn’t exactly Miss 411 when I asked her what was going on.”

Angel gave her the ghost of a grin. “She’s just trying to look out for me.”

“I know, and that was a hell of a shock.” She saw his hurt look and hurried to explain. “No, Angel, no. Not because I don’t think anyone could care for you… on the contrary. If anyone can bring out the good in Cordy, it’s you. It’s just… it’s Cordy, you know? I wish… I wish you could see what a good man you are, Angel. It’s so easy for me to see it, for anyone who knows you to see it.”

He gave a soft snort, and she sighed. “Anyone who really knows you, who can look past the ridges and the fangs of Angelus to see the Angel underneath. Cordy can see you. I can see you. Doyle could, I’m sure. And if Wesley can’t yet, he will soon. You’re amazing,” she whispered, cupping his cool cheek in her hand. She saw his eyes change, just slightly, and she knew that a tiny bit of self-loathing had just withered and died within him. She smiled. “So what is Wesley Watcher-Priss doing in your office, anyway?”

Angel chuckled at the nickname, and then he sobered. “The Council let him go. He’s been hunting demons on his own. He showed up in my office when we were working on the same case, and he just… stayed. He’s lonely; he was drifting. I know how it feels.”

She snuggled into him, laying her head on his chest, and he stiffened, but he didn’t push her away. She closed her eyes but didn’t move.

“Angel…” she murmured, and he didn’t reply. “Angel, I know that what you told me out there… that’s the real reason you left me. But the demon’s gone now—“

“He’s not gone,” Angel interrupted in a quiet, resigned voice, and she stared up at him.

“What?”

“He’s not gone. He’s still here… inside me. I can feel him… and hear him. He’s just… I dunno… locked up, I guess.”

“In a tiny, unbreakable box. That doesn’t have a key. He’s there for good, Angel. Same thing as being gone.”

He just stared at her, but she could see the muscle in his jaw tighten. “Easy for you to say,” he said roughly. “You don’t have—“

“—to live with him. Or listen to him. God, Angel, I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s not easy. But he’s not getting out, Angel. Ever. So your reason for leaving me just went poof. You don’t have to stay away anymore.” She tried to keep the tremor out of her voice, but she wasn’t entirely successful, and she knew he heard it. He raised a hand to stroke his fingers through her unruly hair, looking surprised at himself for doing so.

“Buffy, I… what about Riley?”

She took a deep breath. “Riley is… he’s great,” she said, not looking at him, but she could feel him tense beneath her. “He could give me everything you wanted me to have, and then some. He’s normal… well, except for the part where he’s a chemically enhanced demon hunter who works for a secret branch of the US military.”

“What?”

She laughed softly. “See, Angel, even my normal isn’t normal. I don’t want normal. I don’t want Riley. I don’t love Riley, and it’s not fair of me to pretend that I do. Angel, whether I did it consciously or not, I chose Riley because he’s everything you’re not, everything you told me you wanted for me. Or at least, it seemed that way. But I could never love him, and it was beyond unfair the way I treated him tonight, using him to hurt you and make you jealous.”

“Buffy, you know that everything I told you last year… I believed it. I couldn’t – still can’t – give you everything I wanted to give you, everything I thought you needed—“

“I know. And maybe, if you’d been talking to the Buffy Summers who existed all those years ago, the one who walked down the steps at Hemery, you’d have been right. But you weren’t. I’m not her. And I don’t need the things she needed. I need you. So tell me straight. Are you gonna stay?”

He looked away, and she felt a spike of dread. “Buffy… I can’t just drop everything I have in LA and come back to Sunnydale… I’m needed there. I have…”

“A cause,” she said with a grin, relaxing. “I heard. So I’m not just in love with a vamp with a soul, I’m in love with a warrior for the good, huh?”

He glanced down at her, unable to hide the spark of joy that lit his eyes at her words. “Something like that.”

“You gonna tell me what else these Oracles dropped on you? I seem to remember something about an ultimate reward.”

He fidgeted uneasily, shifting under her. “That’s not that important.”

“Angel, the words ultimate and reward sound kinda newsworthy to me.”

“Buffy, I don’t know when it’s going to happen. There’s no point—“

“Angel.”

He sighed. “They told me that when I’ve achieved my redemption, I’ll be free. Free to have the life – and death – of a mortal man.”

“Human?”

“Buffy—“

“Angel, you’re gonna be human?”

“I don’t know when it’s gonna be, Buffy. Could be decades… centuries from now. I don’t really want to think about it. But I do know that I can’t stop what I’m doing in LA, or it will never happen.”

“I wasn’t gonna ask you to stop doing your work, Angel. That would be asking you to stop being you. If anyone understands the words sacred destiny, it’s yours truly. But that doesn’t mean I’m about to let you walk out of my life again. We can email, talk on the phone. You can come down and see me on slow, evil-free nights, and I can come up and see you on the days when I don’t have classes. We will make this work, Angel.”

Angel’s arms wrapped around her, and he held her tightly to his chest. His lips sought hers in an ardent kiss. He nipped and lapped and suckled at her lower lip until she moaned softly and opened to him. His tongue stole in, unbearably cool in the hot cavern of her mouth, to play and mate and tangle with her own, and she slid her hands up to wrap around his neck and toy with the short, soft hairs at the nape of his neck. He shivered underneath her, increasing the ferocity of the kiss, claiming her, and it was her turn to shiver as a hungry, purring growl rumbled up from deep within his chest. Finally, she moved her hands to his shoulders, pushing away from him before she passed out.

“I take it that’s an aye vote?” she laughed, panting to catch her breath.

He smiled then, the familiar little half-grin she remembered so well, and she couldn’t help but smile back. “Aye,” he murmured. “I love you…”

Buffy closed her eyes. “God, I’ve missed you. I love you so much, Angel.”

He looked down, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m sor—“

Feeling her warm fingers against his lips, he stopped. “Shh. No more apologies.” She tilted his chin up with a finger, and he was stunned by the mischief sparkling in her hazel eyes. “So…” she said speculatively, running a finger down his chest. “That soul of yours is superglued pretty firmly in this gorgeous body, hmm?”

“That’s what they tell me, and I don’t think anyone who calls them liars has much quality of life afterwards—“

He cut off his words, startled, as she shifted suddenly, swinging her leg over his body to straddle him. Her hot little hands stole up underneath his shirt, caressing the firmly muscled planes of his chest and belly, and she grinned evilly as a moan tore from his throat.

“Well then, let’s see about this so-called control you were yelling so much about earlier…” she whispered into his neck.

“Oh, God…”

Buffy chuckled, and the low, husky sound made him arch beneath her and whisper her name. “This is gonna be so much fun…”

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