As Buffy walked up to her office the a week later, she trailed her finger along the boughs of pine needles which decorated the walls, and absently fiddled with a white light has she waited for the elevator.

  "Buffy!"

  She turned slightly to see the director of photography out of the corner of her eye. He raced toward her, his wild black hair flying around him, his flamboyant dress typical for a fashion photographer.

  "Rafe," she acknowledged, silently wishing the elevator would stop being so slow.

  "Darling," he answered hurriedly, "Gisele's being difficult."

  Buffy smiled, "I doubt that."

  "She is being very...petulant," he huffed. "Poor Angel can barely handle her. He's not used to models you know, and this shoot has been going on a while now."

  Buffy's body went cold, then strangely hot when he mentioned that name. She hadn't seen her ex-lover all week and had no wish to. Everytime they came in contact old feelings rushed through her, drowning her lungs, surrounding her heart like the most bitter poison. "Can't you handle her?" she begged. "I have that media report to go through."

  "Calvin will give you an extension," he hustled her into the elevator, pressing the button for four, and leaning back, regarding her with his coca-cola colored eyes. "You have a history with Angel?"

  Buffy groaned silently. "What Rafe?"

  He laughed, chucking her under the chin. "You can't hide from me, love. You think that ice Queen act works with me? No..."

  "What act? Rafe, this is me, you know that," she replied, striding through the doors and making her way to one of the sets, a slender figure in hot, pink and white snakeskin pants, a black slinky sweater set and black boots. She smoothed down the pants and straightened her blonde ponytail as she entered the room, seeing Gisele immediately.

  "Buff!" the model called, a smile breaking out over her gorgeous face.

Buffy gave her a stern look and questioned,"What is this I hear...you giving everyone a hard time?"

  Gisele pouted and said, "I wish to go home Buff. I've been here since 11am. That is ten hours," she counted, and pointed emphatically at her watch.

  Buffy spun around the growl at Rafe, pointedly ignoring a silent Angel, who stood off to the side, not looking at her. "WHAT? Remember Rafe, that little memo I sent you? No days or nights over eight hours for Gisele? She has a baby to look after."

  Rafe gazed at her helplessly. "We were almost done Buffy, I didn't think..."

She sighed, "Go home Gisele. Kiss the baby for me, and thank God you've got an understanding husband okay? We'll see you tomorrow."

  Gisele stood up gracefully, rubbing her aching neck and coming forward to hug Buffy goodbye before she exited the room like a Queen. "Now," Buffy said smoothly, "whose idea was it to keep Gisele late?"

  "Mine," Angel cut in, as he could see Rafe starting to say something.

  The photographer squeaked and threw up his hands, shrugging to Buffy as he walked out off the set in the direction of his private dark room.

  "Well..." Buffy began awkwardly, "I'll be going..."

  "Wait," he demanded quietly and she stopped, aching to cover her flushed face with her hair.

  Angel took her hand, caressing her palm with his thumb. "I'm sorry for pushing the other day. I shouldn't have done that."

  Startled, she whirled fully around and was faced with him, his dark eyes, almost black hair, smooth flesh, lean, tall body clad in black pants and a black open necked shirt... she inhaled his scent and involuntarily swayed closer...drunk on the smell of him after so long...

  "So, I'm willing to be friends," he interruptted her thoughts, looking down into her hazel eyes, and letting go of her hand.

  "Friends?" Buffy echoed.

  With a half-smile, more like a grimace, he said, "Yes, friends. I don't know anyone in the city, so I wouldn't mind a little company around Christmas...that is if you want it."

  Buffy thought for a moment. What options were open to her? She could spend Christmas alone, sipping hot chocolate and staring out at the city in a quiet misery. That was what she did every year, as Anya and Xander always went away to Hawaii. In fact, she knew they were leaving in a couple of days, as Christmas was merely five days away. She usually worked right up until the Eve and then spent Christmas day wallowing in self pity. Suddenly Buffy wanted no part of that. And just seeing Angel was giving her feelings she couldn't ignore...but could they be friends? Yes, she decided, aware that she was lying to herself but unable to face the truth just yet.

  "I want it," she responded, their eyes locking. "I would like company around Christmas. I'm usually alone."

  "So am I," he replied, and the significance of this was not lost on them.

  "Okay then," she said, putting a little distance between them so she could breathe. "Okay...so, let the festivities begin..."

He laughed and she felt her heart crack at the sound. Never had she really heard him laugh like that. Like he was happy. "Your laugh..." she murmured and he stopped, stepping forward, the smile fading.

  "Yes Buffy?"

  "Nothing," she forced out, saying, "Usually you're gloom-guy that's all."

  "Well, I guess, humanity does something for that."

  "Tried and true remedy," she quipped, "like...Robitussen."

  "You use Robitussen?"

  "Benyln actually, don't know why I said the other," she grinned and so did he.

  Buffy felt elation sweep through her that she tried to dampen. God, but this was so familiar. Everything about this. Except for the location of course, but of she concentrated hard enough, she could picture them at the mansion, lying on his bed, covered in a threadbare blanket...flirting absent-mindedly as they held each other, content to lie there for hours. '

"So...not sure how to go about this whole 'friend' thing," she remarked hesitantly and he tilted his head to the side.

  "How about I walk you home tonight?"

  "Hmmm...that might be hard," she teased, "I live in Tribeca."

  "Oh..." he chuckled. "Well, how about we go and see the tree at the Plaza after work?"

  She smiled, not even bothering to stop it. "I'd like that," she answered sweetly and he nodded, swallowing.

  "Okay then,"  he confirmed. "Tree it is."

  "Tree seeing," her lips curved. "And it's a big tree. So lots to see."

  Gazing into her eyes briefly, Angel looked pained. "It should be beautiful."

  "Beautiful," she agreed, looking away, uncomfortable with the heat lancing through her belly.

  Angel nodded, heading for the door. "I'll come by at five. Hope you have a coat."

  "Yep, millions," she deadpanned, "I'll see you then."

  Turning his head to look at her before he left, Angel murmured, "Bye Buffy."

  Her heart swelled. "See ya Angel."

“Pretty this time of year,” Buffy remarked as she and Angel alighted from a cab and began walking toward Rockefeller Plaza.

“What is?” he questioned, taking her hand. She shivered at the contact, as their fingers laced together in a sweetly innocent embrace.

“New York, everything,” she informed him as they passed glittering trees, inhaled the scent of pine and snow and enjoyed the atmosphere.

Angel nodded, “It is. So…tell me, how is everyone else doing?”

“Oh the rest of the Scoobies?” she asked. “They're muchly fine. Will and Tara are quite the happy…umm…wife and wife.” He smiled and urged her to go on. “They live in LA, and run this magic shop for Wiccans. Giles is in England now. He and Nina are together and he works in a bookstore.”

“You must miss him,” Angel commented and Buffy blinked, nodding her blonde head, causing her hair to swish about her shoulders.

“I do,” she said, as if just realizing it. “I mean, whenever I had a crisis, my first thought would always be, you know, run to Giles. But now I can't do that. I guess I've had to look out for myself.”

“And done a good job of that,” he reminded her and she grinned up at him. “So…it pains me to ask…but is Xander all right?”

Buffy giggled. “He's fine. Living in New York I might add. He and Anya are still together…”

“Anya?” Angel repeated. “Oh…I think I met her once…when I came back that Thanksgiving.”

Both went silent, for different reasons. Buffy remembered how angry she had felt about Angel's “I can see you, but you can't see me” policy, and Angel remembered, like he did every minute, that forgotten day that he and Buffy had kissed in the sunlight.

“And Riley? I know you said he's married again. How is he?” Angel asked, his tone deliberately neutral, his visage blank. She swallowed nervously and pulled him over to a vendor.

“Let's get some hot chocolate,” she urged and he laughed,

“Buffy, you should never buy anything from these guys.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, she asked, “Where's your sense of adventure?”

“Big adventure,” he smirked and she playfully punched him in the ribs. He winced, and she was immediately contrite, placing a gentle hand on his chest to search for wounds, causing him to flinch.

“I'm sorry, I hurt you,” she exclaimed, and he leaned in close.

“No, I tricked you,” he breathed sexily in her ear and she laughed nervously, trying to pull away, but he kept her anchored against his chest easily with one hand.
“Answer my question,” he demanded. “How is Riley?”

She brushed her hair away from her suddenly flushed cheeks. “Oh yeah, I played the avoidance card on that one, didn't I? He's fine, as always. A farmer man tending his cows and feeding the chicken…corn, I think. I never could get it straight.”

Angel tried not to laugh. Sobering, he inquired, “Were you happy with him?”

“Yes,” she answered, her gaze not meeting his.

“You're lying,” he replied calmly and she jerked back, but he kept a firm hold on her, forcing her against him. “Let me rephrase that question…were you as happy with him as you were with me?”

Her eyes wide and bruised, she stared up at him. “How can you ask me that?”

“Because I need to know.”

“Actually, I was happier,” she responded seriously, and he pushed her away, the pain that clouded his eyes not something he wanted her to see. Buffy continued, “I was happier with Riley. Because he didn't make me miserable like you did. But, having said that, I would trade every moment I ever had with him, for one second with you.”

She left him with that, walking over to the huge Christmas tree in the center of the Plaza. The lights made her hair glitter gold, cast a sheen over her flesh until it gleamed. She felt hands spinning her around, and then Angel's lips were crushing hers and she was drowning…

~~~

“I'm sorry I kissed you,” Angel apologized, breaking the ice. They sat on a park bench by the tree, and the lights played across their faces and they struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

“You are?” she inquired, “Oh.”

“Well…not that I didn't want to kiss you,” he amended. “I just…I made a promise to you…just friends.”

“Do you think we can ever be that, Angel?” she wondered wearily. Didn't he remember what Spike had said so many years ago?

You're not friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love till it kills you both. You'll fight and you'll shag and you'll hate each other till it makes you quiver, but you'll never be friends. Love isn't brains children, its blood. Blood screaming inside you to work its will

She knew she had never forgotten it, and she wondered if he had. “I thought that's what you wanted,” he answered and she shook her head.

“I don't know what I want anymore.”

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” he asked, and his voice was blank. She knew what it had cost him to say that and her heart cried out under its icy armour.

“No,” she replied softly, touching his hand, twining her fingers through his. “I don't. I never did. Ever.”

He turned to her, and his lips curved into a small smile. “I'm glad,” he returned and she felt a snowflake brush her face. Tilting her face up to the heavens, she felt wetness on her cheeks and realized that it was really snowing. Like a fairytale. As the white crystals fell around them, Buffy smiled.

“Mmm… I love snow, I still can't get used to it, but I love it.”

He nodded, brushing a snowflake off her cheek tenderly. “I know what you mean.”
“Of course it never snowed in Sunnydale,” she laughed. And then stopped as she remembered the one time it had. Remembered the hilltop confrontation.

This world needs me gone!

What about me? I love you so much. And I tried to make you go away…I killed you and it didn't help. And I hate it. I hate that it's so hard. And that you can hurt me so much. I know everything that you did, cause you did it to me. God, I wish that I wished you dead. I don't…I can't…

“Buffy…” Angel began, his face strained, but she stopped him, placing a finger on his lips. He kissed it absently and she shivered, smiling.

“C'mon,” she pulled him up and ran with him. He grabbed her and spun her around, her feet leaving the ground as he twirled her in the air, laughing, laughing, like an angel, haloed with snow, Buffy flew.

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