Angel tossed and turned in his bed, day. He took a deep breath, gasped, and threw his eyes open. His face held only self-loathing, contempt, guilt, shame, and sorrow. He closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek. He walked over to his dresser and picked up a gold cross in his hand, unmindful of the pain. He picked up a crystal statue and hurled it across the room.

"Why?" Angel whispered. "Why Buffy? Why did I have to hurt her so much?"

". . .hurt her so much?" Buffy jumped and clutched her hand tightly. She looked down to see a slight burn mark on her hand before it faded away. It still hurt, and she paled. Her teacher looked up to see Buffy's face.

"What's the matter, Miss Summers? *Forget* your homework again?" the teacher asked, though Buffy had only forgotten her homework once. <>

"Nn . . . no, I turned it in, ma'am. I just suddenly had this really sick feeling. I'll be fine," Buffy replied, still holding her hand.

The teacher reached over to a pile of loose leaf and began searching through it with a snide look on her face.

"Rosenberg, O'Connor, Smith, Gates, S– Summers. . . . You did your homework?" she asked.

"Yeah, I worked on it in the library. You can ask Mister Giles," Buffy replied.

"Buffy, what's the density of water?" she asked as she dared Willow with her eyes to help Buffy.

"One gram per cubic centimeter," Buffy replied.

Her teacher was slightly startled. Buffy smiled innocently and pleasedly and turned back to her reading.

"I wonder how long it will take her to figure out that it was written on the board," Buffy said to Willow.

Willow and Buffy laughed.

"I wonder if he'll be here," Buffy said to herself.

"He who?" Xander asked, taking a breather from the Xander/Cordy drool-fest.

Willow and Buffy both gave Xander a look. Xander shook his head.

"Oh, him, him. Maybe he went out to get a bite to eat," Xander replied sarcastically.

"Would you mind laying off him? He's suffering enough without you making all these comments," Buffy defended.

"He ought to be suffering. He killed Miss Calender and tried to kill us," Xander replied heatedly

Buffy got a hurt look on her face, unable to come up with a Buffy-quip. She stirred her cappuccino.

"That wasn't really Angel. It was a demon that possessed his body. It wasn't his fault at all," Willow said, quickly becoming angry. "And you should really leave him alone because the good Angel has saved our lives a lot!"

"It wasn't his fault. It was mine. I'm going home. I'll see you guys tomorrow," Buffy said despondently.

Buffy got up, leaving her cappuccino unfinished. Both Cordelia and Willow gave Xander a murderous look.

"It's not bad enough that her mom is giving her a hard time about Buffy being the Slayer, Giles giving her a hard time because she ‘needs to pay more attention,' and all the teachers are hassling her because Snyder ruined her reputation, but you have to give her a hard time because she still loves Angel after everything he did. I'm going home!" Cordelia proclaimed angrily.

Cordelia stormed away, exasperated. Xander turned his head to Willow and frowned. Then, he smiled as he noticed Cordelia had left her cake and Buffy her cappuccino. He pounced on them.

"Please, Xander, try to understand what Buffy's going through. Even if she doesn't love you, she still needs a friend," Willow pleaded.

Willow got up, leaving Xander by himself to think of what he'd said. He set the cappuccino and cake down and rested his chin in his hands.

"Once, I was a man surrounded by three beautiful women. Now, I'm a kid with three empty seats all due to some two-hundred forty-something-year-old murder!" Xander muttered to himself.

Buffy walked up the sidewalk to her house. She noticed her mom's jeep was not home, so she turned around without entering and walked back down the street.

Angel sat in his apartment, feeling sorry for everything he'd done. A shirt had been hurled across the room and lied in a crumpled wad. He heard a knock at the door. The tips of his fingers tingled, and the hair on his neck stood on end. <> He quickly straightened his hair as a nervous gesture and walked to the door.

"Hey, uh, Buffy, are you okay?" Angel asked softly.

"I came to ask you the same question," Buffy asked, noticing his disheveled appearance.

Angel turned away from her, leaving the door wide open. Buffy stepped over the threshold and closed the door softly. She approached him from behind and slowly entwined arms around his waist. He almost gave in, but pulled away from her.

"I don't understand it," Angel said to himself.

"What?"

"How you can forgive me? I sit here and wonder what I could possibly do to make everything right, but I know I can't. I keeping seeing your face right when you showed up and I was bad. I can hear you crying over and over in my head," Angel said.

"Because I love you," Buffy said simply.

Angel turned around to face her vamped out.

"This is me, Buffy. What you see me, as a human, is a lie. It is a disguise I can put on to make me look normal for the world," Angel hissed.

"It is who you are in your heart."

"I *am* a demon, Buffy. Just because when you look at me and smile at me, I look human, I will always know that I'm not. I will always remember . . ."

"I don't care what you remember. I know that you feel it too. I know when you're around. I can feel it on the ends of my nerves, like a tingle in my body. I used to feel this never ending flow of love," Buffy said. "Things aren't getting better, Angel. I feel what you feel."

"You feel guilt now?" Angel asked.

"Yes. I am just as, if not more, guilty than you. I don't want you to feel sorry, Angel," Buffy said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What do you want me to do? I will do anything you say, just tell me!" Angel declared.

"Kiss me."

She moved toward him slowly, as if trying to keep him from running. She put her arms around his neck. By instinct, he leaned down to her and started to kiss her. Almost the instant their lips touched, he pulled back and turned his back to her. Buffy looked hurt for a second and gave up. The tingling sensation dissipated . When he turned around again, she was gone. Hopelessness washed over his body, and he sat back down in the chair.

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