“Could it mean anything, Giles?” Buffy Summers implored her Watcher, taking a huge gulp of steaming tea, and staring at the pyjama-clad man sitting in front of her. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, picking up the delicate milk container and pouring some into his mug.

Taking a breath, he leaned forward. “Buffy, what I am about to tell you is highly confidential. The Powers that Be…will sometimes give a Slayer the ability to remember a past life. In the form of a dream, usually. From what you have told me, I am assuming that that is the case here.”

She swallowed, and her eyes went blank for a moment. “Oh,” she began, as what he had just said sunk in. “Ohhhh. So that means…well, that you were all in my lives past? Wow. That's heavy stuff.”

He nodded, and sat back, regarding the Slayer with seriousness. “Buffy, you must go to LA and see Angel. This dream would not have been given to you if the Powers that Be did not want you to see him. He may need your help.”

“I don't want to,” she whined, and curled up on the couch, inhaling the sweet tea with a vengeance. “Besides, how do we know the Powers want me to talk to him?” Her eyes lit up, “They could want me to talk to…Willow. Now that I can do.”

His tone was gentle, but firm. “Buffy, the focus of your dream seemed to be the relationship between yourself, as Surya, and Angel as Shahla. I think you must recognize that Angel would want to know of this dream- if it could help him in some way.”

She shook her head, and stared at him. “Everything has changed between us…he doesn't want or need the Buffy brand of help these days.” She sighed and looked down at the hot liquid in her cup, seeing her tired reflection and noting how pale she was. “Angel's moved on. And so have I,” she added hurriedly.

Giles gazed at her with fatherly tenderness. “I know you still love Angel, Buffy.”

“What?” she asked, shocked at his blunt statement, and watched him stand up and gather the tray he had lay out when she had roused him from sleep at 4 am.

“I have known for quite some time that you still loved him,” Giles answered calmly, and cleaned his glasses with the sleeve of his robe, sitting back down.

Buffy shook her head, her eyes flashing with anger. “I do not love that…that…thing,” she spat, and grew even more infuriated as Giles nodded, but clearly did not believe her. “Where did you get a crazy idea like that? I do not love him…for your information, I haven't thought of him in weeks…months…years!” She paused, and backtracked. “I mean, well, yes…years, of course. But I DO NOT LOVE HIM!”

“No need to shout, Buffy. I understand completely that you would find it inappropriate to love someone else while dating another…and that's perfectly fine. Now…”

Interrupting him, Buffy held up her hand. “No, no, no. I demand that you retract that statement about me still loving Angel. I demand that you—“ She stopped talking and moaned, hiding her face with her hands. “How could I still? I can't still. It's impossible. I'm still in mourning time over Riley.”

“Buffy,” Giles began carefully, “It is quite normal for you to have dated Riley. Angel gave you no other choice in the matter. But surely you did not think that simply because you were…involved with another, your feelings for Angel would disappear?”

She appeared stumped and tucked a lock of honey hair behind her ear. “Well…I thought they would. You know, like, go *poof*…” she emphasised, waving one hand like a magic wand. “I mean, shouldn't they? Go poof? Angel sent me a very large dump-o-gram, and I thought that you know, Riley was like, my…” She paused, “my…well, what was he really? Now I'm not even sure. Was he just rebound guy? I so hoped he wasn't.”

Appearing befuddled, Giles stared at her. “I'm not sure that was even a complete thought you just uttered, Buffy.”

She laughed half-heartedly and played with the hem of her black stretch top, worrying the material between her fingers. “I just…oh, I don't know. Things were supposed to be simple. I was supposed to grow up, marry a nice guy and have pretty clothes.” He smiled and waited for her to continue. “But then everything changed. I got all Slayerific, and I moved to Sunnydale and I met Angel.”

Taking a large breath, Buffy stared off into space, her green eyes clouded with memories. “And I wanted to be with him forever. Maybe that was just stupid teenager stuff. But I actually thought I would be. How could I have been so naïve? I still can't believe he's gone, Giles.”

Her Watcher patted her shoulder compassionately and nodded, his own eyes sad. “Things are supposed to be simple, Buffy, but they rarely are. I thought my life would turn out differently as well. I certainly never believed that Jenny would—“ he broke off, his voice choked, as he thought of the woman he had loved and lost so cruelly.

“I'm so sorry, Giles,” she murmured, wishing she could say something that would comfort him. “I wish I could have saved her for you.”

He smiled weakly and shook his head. “No one could have. She sealed her own fate, I believe, Buffy. At least she died trying to do what was right. I don't blame him, you know.”

Startled, her head shot up. “Excuse me?”

“Angel. I don't blame him anymore, for Jenny's death. I admit there was a time I did. But since then, I have come to recognize that he and Angelus are separate beings. It took a long time, but I believe I have forgiven him. And I think you should to.”

“Forgive him?” she repeated, confused, tucking her legs underneath her. “For what?”

“You have never forgiven him for leaving you, Buffy,” Giles informed her and watched her face immediately close off. “Listen to me. You have not forgiven him. And I believe that he has never forgiven you, either.”

Angrily, she stood up and paced, her tiny body tense. “He has nothing to forgive me for.”

“I think when he left you, Buffy, he never really dreamed you would find another.”

“What do you mean?” Buffy shouted, biting her lower lip in vexation. “He told me to find someone else! He practically begged me to shack up with someone new!”

“Yes,” he replied smoothly, ignoring the rage that emanated from every pore of her being. “But he probably did not really think you would. And I think that is what is holding the two of you back, Buffy.”

“Oh yeah?” she answered, sarcasm edging her voice. “What about the fact that he chose to live in a different city?”

Giles sighed and regarded her with exasperation. “Buffy…he chose to live in a place that was only two hours from you! Have you not considered the fact that he could have moved to Europe? Asia? He could have put a continent between you, Buffy. But he simply moved a city away.”

She considered this new revelation, having never thought of it that way before. “Well, I guess you might have a point,” she allowed grudgingly, “but holding us back from what?”

“From finding each other, again, Buffy. Haven't you realized yet that the Powers that Be want you two to be together once more?”

“What? What the hell do the Powers have to do with it? What do they care who I knock boots with?”

He flushed and motioned for her to sit down again. “I'm not sure it's that…aspect of the relationship that they care about. It is the fact that you and Angel are two very powerful beings. And together you are even more powerful. The dream, your past life, it answers all the questions you have, Buffy. Obviously, the Powers that took you away from each other gave you a second chance. You failed, however, to work out your problems, and in effect, history repeated itself.”

“How do you figure that?” she inquired suspiciously.

“In your past life…Angel, or Shahla, rather, died. And in this life, he left. Now, neither time was it your fault, Buffy. It is Angel's demons that need to be dealt with. Shahla's past came to haunt him, and rather than owning up and facing them, he killed himself.” Buffy winced, and Giles watched with interest. The dream had obviously been powerful. “Angel, as we know, has a very difficult time dealing with his past as Angelus. Instead of dealing with his feelings of guilt over you, and what he has done, he chose to flee, and consequently, the second chance you two were given was squandered.”

She sat back, and absorbed all that he had said. “I never knew you thought Angel and I were so…important.”

“I have been thinking more and more about it lately,” he admitted, and took another sip of cold tea, the temperature not even registering. “At the time that you and Angel were a couple, I had never really considered the possibilities of such a relationship. But since he left, I have wondered at why you two shared such a bond. Your love with Angel is strong, and I think it was meant that you two should remain fighting together. But since Angel has chosen not to stay with you…he has run away, I think the task falls on you, Buffy, to convince him that your place is together.”

She gulped and an expression of weariness came over her face. “Gillllles…” she whined. “Why do I always have to be the Saving Girl…why can't someone else do the thing that I do?”

He smiled. “I assume you will be leaving in the morning?”

She nodded tiredly, lying back. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can I catch a couple Zzs here please?”

“Of course. See you in the morning, Buffy.”

~~~

Buffy awoke to a silent house, and turning over, saw that it was just gone seven O'clock in the morning. Yawning, she realized that she would never get back to sleep, and standing, she decided not to wake Giles. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she looked over her outfit of black cropped pants and a black stretch top. Out of habit, she had slipped gold hoops into her ears, and her loosely curled hair, although messy, could probably pass for sexily tousled. Groaning, Buffy grabbed her black leather jacket and headed out the door. It didn't matter how she looked. Angel didn't care anyway.

It took her just under two hours to drive to Los Angeles, and clutching the address Giles had given her the night before, she drove another hour in search of the Hyperion Hotel, which she finally discovered.

Exiting the car, she walked up to the front doors of the massive structure, and pulled them open. As she neared the front desk, she saw Cordy and Wesley squabbling, while packing their things in boxes. That struck her as odd. Were they moving again?

“Hey guys,” she said casually, and they glanced up, then nearly collapsed as they saw who it was. Cordelia, usually sullen in Buffy's presence, broke out into a smile of welcome, striding forward and grabbing her, enfolding the stricken Slayer in her arms.

“Buffy!” She cried jovially, “THANK THE BLESSED LORD YOU ARE HERE!”

“You're scaring me, Cordy,” Buffy answered with a small grin. “You are never, ever happy to see me unless I'm saving your life…and even then…”

Cordelia scowled, and released her, tucking her short dark hair behind her ears with a grimace. “All right, well the deal is that I'm not happy to see you. Except for the fact that you are probably the only person on this planet that can get through to my dim-witted ex-boss.”

Buffy hesitated and then spoke, “Ex?”

Wesley came forward, nodding in greeting. “Yes, you see…Angel has…relieved us of employment.”

“Angel…fired you?” Buffy sputtered with laughter and Cordelia scowled again, her eyes flashing.

“He's not in his right mind, Little Miss Annoying,” she snapped, “Darla has screwed with his head.”

“Darla?” Buffy repeated, all amusement gone. “Cordy, Angel staked her quite a while ago. Is he…like, suffering from…post traumatic… staking your sire syndrome?”

“No, not exactly,” Wesley paused and then plunged on. “Darla was resurrected by a law firm in town…and she was brought back as a human. Angel tried to help her for months, but all she wanted was to become a vampire again. It seems that before Darla was turned by the Master, she was a prostitute-“

“Not hard to believe,” Buffy muttered.

Ignoring her, Wesley continued, “suffering from syphilis. She had finally accepted her imminent demise when the Wolfram and Hart lawyers summoned another vampire…to turn her.”

Shocked at all this, the Slayer asked, “Who did they get for that job?”

“Drusilla,” Cordelia replied matter-of-factly, and then said, “And then Angel went all ballistic and broody. He let Drusilla and Darla snack on some lawyers and didn't save them. And now he's all mean boss like…and very evil I might add. I'll warn ya, Buff, if he goes all freaky-faced, I'll be the first one to grab the wood. I love the guy like an annoying brother, but I'm not letting him get out of here alive if—“

“I GET it, Cordy,” Buffy cut in, impatiently, and turned to Wesley, saying, “Is he in his room asleep? I think I should talk to him.”

“Yes, that is a good idea. We are just clearing our things from the offices. Please, go on ahead. It's in the basement.”

Nodding, Buffy strode off, finding the door without any trouble. As she descended the stairs, she wondered what exactly was going on with her ex-lover. And Darla and Drusilla? That wigged her out. She didn't know what the two vampires were capable of, but she knew they were certainly strong and they would have no problem coming to Sunnydale. They might even find a way to get the chip from Spike's head, and that was something Buffy could never let happen. She could tolerate Spike with the chip. She didn't have to kill him. And she didn't want to, anyway.

Opening the door to what she assumed was Angel's room, she was about to open her mouth to speak when she saw him and all coherent thoughts flew from her head. He lay, in bed, asleep, something she had expected. What she had not anticipated, was the way he would be sleeping. As in…naked.

His face was peaceful, pale and marble-like in the heady darkness of the room. His head rested on one muscled arm, and a sheet was dragged around his hips. The entire expanse of smooth, perfect chest and stomach was revealed. Her mouth went dry as she stared at the silky line of hair arrowing down from his navel. Why was she just standing there? She should say something. Wake him up. Anything but wish she could crawl into the bed with him. Anything but imagine what it would be like to pull down the sheet…bare him to her hungry mouth and—

“Buffy.”

Her eyes locked with his and her face flushed. She had a lot of explaining to do.

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