He stares at me for a moment and I think he is looking at my blood-smeared collarbone and the salt tracks on my face. I think he is seeing how broken I am. Angel…I think, you broke me. You ate me up and fucked me and then left me to the wolves. Are you happy now? He takes a step towards me.

“Why have you been looking for me?” he asks and his voice is unnaturally harsh. “What happened? What happened to you?”

His questions make me laugh. It hurts my throat but I force the giggles up and watch the two demons gaze at me. The Host looks knowing. He doesn't think I'm weird. But Angel does. He's wondering whether or not I lost my mind. “What happened to me?” I repeat hollowly and slump onto a chair, crossing my thin legs like weapons that are cocked. “Where do you want me to start?”

He appears confused and somehow I don't blame him. Even I am. “Start from the beginning.”

(I didn't mean to be out late, Mom

Oh really?

Don't look at me like that…I swear, there is the best explanation for this. It's so explainable. This situation.

Oh well, then Buffy…enlighten me

Where to start? (I laugh and try and look innocent)

From the beginning would be good. And don't leave anything out.)

Shaking my head, I ignore the fresh tears and the burning nauseous tremble in my stomach. My blood is hot and syrupy as it drips down my shirt. I know I must look like a disaster victim, but the ability to care escapes me. “My Mom died,” I begin flatly, because if I let emotion creep into my voice or look at him I will sob and fall to the ground like a broken doll.

“Buffy…” he chokes out but I raise my hand and stop him talking.

“Don't,” I warn him and point to my neck. “Afterwards this started up and I don't know what to do about it. The bite is bleeding and I need to know…what it means.”

He lowers his body gracefully onto a chair and rubs his drowning eyes. “I don't…I'm not sure. I've never heard of anything like this happening before. Did you… hit it somehow?”

“No,” I reply curtly and stare at him with curious eyes. He looks different and tired and older. I don't know how that's possible.

The Host suddenly breaks in quietly. “Well, kids, I may be able to help.”

Angel turns to him as if he'd forgotten he was there. The big green creature smiles and his mouth is so red I wonder if he wears lipstick. Or maybe it's just a demon thing. Woozily, I lean back and gaze up at the ceiling, which is high and far away.

“What's going on with her?” Angel asks and his voice is low and deadly. He means business.

“Well keep your itty bitty pants on sonny,” the Host answers with a laugh, and then clears his throat as I presume Angel fixes him with the look of death. His death. “Ok, here's what I managed to get from the singing… she needs to drink from you.”

That makes me snap back to attention. “What?” I say before Angel can.

“Well, as I understand it,” the Host says calmly and looks at the vampire, “you left her before you turned her? Am I correct?” Off his nods, he continues, “That's part of the problem here. You left her hanging, my boy. To the point of death but you didn't give her any of your blood. She's been essentially high and dry these last two years.”

I flush and shift uncomfortably. My ex-lover doesn't look at me. I know he's remembering the taste of me in his mouth. How I filled his throat and pumped new life into his wound. They say Slayer blood is magickal. Powerful. Suddenly I wonder what it was like for him. To feel me thrumming in his veins. Would it make him go crazy? Or would it be comforting?

“What else is there?” he inquires stiffly.

“Well…if she doesn't drink you, sonny…she's going to croak. Eventually she will get weaker and weaker until…” he snaps his fingers and sits back. His green skin glints in the light and it sparkles before my eyes like he's a dragon underwater. Spitting fire…blood and fire. Dizzy, I reach up and touch my neck faintly, pressing my fingers to stop the flow. But it's useless. My eyes are drawn to Angel's neck. To his pale flesh and the place where his pulse used to throb. Throbbing…vampyre…

(Drink me…drink! It's never over… Drink…

…drink me

… drink)

“If I do this…will she be turned?” Angel is asking and their voices sound so far away because my ears are roaring. I can feel the copper vase in my crushing fingers, feel the heaviness of his chest, the table crashing underneath my booted foot…hear his groans…

“Heavens no!” the Host replies with his drawl that grates on my nerves. “Well… I guess not. You know, the truth is, I don't have a clue. Look it's either death or the unknown. Take your pick.”

“They're the same thing…” I mumble and glance at both of them through slitted eyes. “What do we know about death? Is it a place full of roses…full of sunlight and flowers with smiley faces on them?” I laugh and sit up, my tone garbled. “Do you think that's where my Mommy is going? Do you think she's happy? Laughing? Glad she died…cause gosh, isn't this place just the best?” I feel and hear my voice crack as I turn on the Host. “Do you see her? Can you see my mother? Does she wish she were back with me and Dawnie… does she miss us already?”

Angel reaches out and takes me in his arms. I feel the cold fabric of his duster against my cheek and lean into him. His hands are steady and strong on my back. He has me tight. I can't even cry cause it hurts too much. My throat catches as I try to breathe and I'm making keening animal noises into his chest. He rocks me and smoothes my hair, kissing my forehead. He sounds like he wants to weep. His lips are cool on my hot hot skin.

“I don't understand…” I hear him saying to the Host. “Why would this happen now?”

“Truthfully I don't know,” he answers. “The shock of her mother might have brought it on…but maybe the Powers that Be thought you two had to be brought back together. Listen sonny, I ain't hearin no voices right now. Your girl Friday is the one to ask these questions. Maybe she'll have one of those insightful visions. All I know is that if she doesn't have a taste, she's going to be six feet under in no time.”

“Thanks,” Angel mutters and picks me up. I loop my arms around his neck. My legs feel wobbly and I know I wouldn't be able to walk. He still knows me. He can still anticipate things like that. It makes me hate him and myself even more. He carries me out into the sewers where it is dank and dark. I wonder…if he turned me…would we walk the darkness together? Would he feed me each night and be with me always? Would we walk through sewers like this one for thousands of years…until all the nights have gone away?

“Angel…” I whisper and wonder what it would be like to have him as my sire. Wonder what it would be like to live forever. He doesn't answer me, just cradles me tighter and I know it must be hell for him because my blood is all over his skin now. He can smell it, I know. Smell me. Want me. My belly feels empty as I curl my face into his neck and imagine biting down.

What would it be like…to have fangs and hunger? What would it be like to have Angel's blood inside me… running through my veins like wildfire? What would he taste like… copper? Sugar? Death…life… love or a bond? Roses and rain…

(Buffy…would you come in out of the rain?!

I can't Mommy… these puddles are huge. You know I have to jump in them first…

Buffy Anne Summers…! You don't even have a raincoat on.

C'mon…Mommy…you should come outside to and play with me…

You're going to catch your death of cold…

…death of cold…

…cold…

…death…)

“We're here…” Angel says gently to me as he opens a door and we're inside what looks to be a large hotel. So this is where he lives. I don't like it. Too big. I feel too small and little. Not strong, just tiny and insignificant.

He sets me down and we face each other. My legs shake and I lean against the counter. I feel blood all over me and it's sticky and warm. Angel breathes in even though he doesn't have any breath and looks at me.

“What are we going to do?” I ask him softly.

His eyes are wide, open and terrified. They look like my Mom's. “I don't know,” he answers. “I don't know.”

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