Angel sensed rather than saw the sunlight that streamed through the tiny slit of the heavy curtains and onto the smooth floor beside his bed. He frowned, his eyes still shut, trying to clear away the foggy vestiges of rare, peaceful sleep. He couldn't remember how he had gotten back to his mansion after the battle last night - the last thing he could discern from the hazy cacophony of images inside his head was being painfully skewered by a demon.

But somehow he was here. As he slowly opened his eyes he became aware of a warm, intoxicating fragrance drifting just underneath his nose, tantalising his sensitive vampiric senses - and then he knew.

He had his arms lightly wrapped around Cordelia's warm, pulsating body; encircling her waist in what in his sleep qualified for a gentle embrace. His head was dipped into the crook of her neck and one of his legs was sprayed unruly on top of one of hers. For a moment Angel was lost in the sheer contentment of being so utterly close to his seer, a closeness that he had been missing for many months.

Angel's expression of contentment was transformed into one of concern as Cordelia moaned in her sleep, her normally radiant face contorted into one of agony. He instinctively tightened his grip on his beautiful friend, frustration once again coursing through his body as he reflected on the utter injustice of life. How could the Powers That Be allow an innocent girl to suffer through these horrific visions day after day, just so that he could fight the forces of darkness? He knew that he deserved to be confronted with all the horrors the Powers could heap on him, but what about Cordelia? She had nothing to atone for.

Angel sighed softly, unneeded breath escaping from his lips to lightly tickle Cordelia's hair. No, it wasn't fair that Cordelia had the visions that were meant to help him, but neither he nor anyone else could do anything about it. All Angel could do was to promise her that he would always be there by her side, protecting her from harm.

He felt Cordelia stirring, her heartbeat quickening as she drifted into consciousness. Without turning around she greeted him softly. "Hey."

Angel responded with a gentle squeeze of her waist. "Hey." She shifted again and he loosened his hold, his arms instinctively retreating from her body.

"No. It's nice." Her voice was raspy but gentle, a result of the weariness of sleep. "This is nice." She clarified.

He allowed his arms to encircle her again as he breathed in deeply, her scent giving him a moment of heady contentment. If only life could always be like this, a moment of utter peace spent in the company of a true friend, with no conflict to resolve, no guilt to overcome. It was very nice.

He exhaled slowly against her skin.

"Tickles." He could almost hear her smile, and he couldn't resist smiling back.

He allowed himself once more to feel the unique tranquillity of the moment as he drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Buffy Summers was in a funny mood. Not funny ha ha, but funny peculiar. And it was all due to the expected arrival of her ex-honey Angel and his seer, the ex-cheerleader Cordelia Chase.

Here she was, newly resurrected from wherever she had been after she had died, coping with the huge changes that stemmed from being not-dead. Immediately after her resurrection she had been truly angry at the world.

She had wanted to stay dead dammit, to be released from the agony of the day to day existence of a Slayer. One who had been called upon to sacrifice her lover, her fellow Slayer, her sister - all in the name of saving the world. She had been sick of it - the fight with no end, and she had been truly glad to go.

No one knew why or how she had been granted yet another get out of jail free card; they had just been glad she was back and that she wasn't some weird demon slash vampire slash whatever else incarnation of good Buffy. After a while, when she had grown accustomed to the idea, she had gradually been glad too. Glad for a second, or third chance as the case may be, to spend with Dawn and her friends. To see Dawn growing up, to see the domestic felicity of Xander and Anya's engagement, to see Willow's powers growing steadily and the love she shared with Tara, to see Giles finally able to get on with his own life. Hell, she was even glad to see Spike who, even after her resurrection, kept his promise to protect Dawn until 'the end of the world'.

Things were finally settling down for her after a hectic couple of months, running around to tell people that 'surprise, she was alive again' and putting down the standard demon uprisings. And then last night, just as she was on the losing end of a tussle with several demons resembling giant calamari, her ex-lover had stepped in out of nowhere and saved her.

Questions reverberated around in the silences of Buffy's mind. Like, what the hell was Angel doing here? How did he know that she had been in trouble? And - what the hell was he doing here?

Even though they had resolved some of the issues hanging between them during her visit to L.A a month ago, there were still vestiges of awkwardness left between them. Things hadn't been said or understood in the happiness of the moment because it had been the wrong time to confront them. She didn't know exactly what these issues were but she sensed somehow that they were still there, still festering. And likewise, she somehow sensed that his dropping in so unexpectedly was not due to mere chance.

Buffy had grown a lot more intuitive since her resurrection. Dying sometimes did that to people, she thought wryly.

She glanced sideways at Xander, his attention fixed on the road ahead of them. He had offered to drive her to Angel's mansion on his way to work, knowing that she had been keen to see her former lover again. She didn't know why he offered; she didn't ask. She was just glad that he understood her well enough to instinctively know what she wanted.

The mansion came into view almost immediately, partially hidden by the overgrowth of trees that served to shelter it from the harsh rays of the sun. Xander quickly parked the car in a secluded spot and killed the engine.

Both of them continued to stare at the mansion, the soft chirping of birds the only sound surrounding them.

"So ..." Xander broke the stillness between them with a cheeky grin. "What gives? You ready to see dead boy or not?"

Buffy smiled back, playfully reprimanding him. "Don't call him that Xander." Her clear blue eyes, darkened since her resurrection, fixed intently on his dark brown ones. "Let's go."

Buffy couldn't detect any signs of life as they silently made their way to the courtyard of the mansion's entrance.

"Knock knock!" Xander shouted, but was met with no response.

Shrugging Buffy tried the heavy wooden door and found that it opened easily to her gentle push. Xander slid the doors closed behind him after they had let themselves in.

The cool stone interior of the mansion's main living area afforded them shelter from the already searing warmth of the Californian sun. Buffy looked around, briefly allowing the tide of memories to wash over her before shaking them off. Now was not the time to wallow in bad memories.

"Hello?" Her own voice sounded hollow as it reverberated around the stony silence of the cavernous room. Maybe he wasn't here. But where else could he be?

She turned to Xander who was standing a few feet away from her, similarly confused. "I'll check the bedroom."

"I'll check upstairs."

Smiling at Xander as he made his way up the stairs, Buffy turned around and headed for the bedroom. Turning the door handle, she was greeted with a sight that not in a million years did she ever expect to see.

* * *

A slight rustling of the door handle drew Angel out of his half-doze. Cordelia squirmed slightly in his hold but quickly settled down again. Her breathing remained steady and he knew that she was falling in and out of sleep, but that wasn't the movement that had disturbed him.

He heard a slight creak of the door, followed by a startled gasp behind him.

Without needing to turn around, he knew. He knew it was Buffy.

And suddenly he also knew that his world just got that much more complicated.

 

(c) Vivian Ngan August 2001