Angel looks startled and stares at me. “Call Giles?” Woozily, I lean back and ignore the sharp throbbing stab behind my temples. All I can see flashing behind my eyelids is the images of a burning sun and thighs full of heat and fury. I can taste Alesso's mouth, feel my own fear. Wait… my own fear? Oh God no… I'm not this person… I'm not Byrony, who is full of despair and raging desire… am I? Angel's fingers reach up and they brush my cheeks, sweeping the fringe of blonde hair away from my sweating forehead. My skirt is pushed up around my hips and I can sense the swollenness between my trembling legs. I'm still open, still dripping and I feel shame. Mike is waiting for me and I'm lying in a dirty ally, with my lover's thumbs whispering against my eyelashes. “I have to go… I have to go, Angel…” I murmur absently and push myself up with dry elbows. He helps me, and I can feel his confusion as if it was a separate entity. His fingers grasp my wrist lightly as I turn to go and he spins me so his gaze can lock with mine. “What just happened, Buffy?” With shaking hands, I cup his cheeks and stand on my tip-toes, unable to help myself as I kiss him desperately, hungrily. “I'll tell you later, Angel. I promise.” He holds me close for a moment, a breath, against his warm chest and then I go, running out into the light to face the reality that has become my life but seems more like a dream than dark allies and hot planets. ~~~ Mike and I walk into our apartment and it looks different for some reason. So does he. I want to laugh because he's a stranger now- and I want to be somewhere else and nothing is fair about this situation. His lips brush my cheek and he comments, “You're hot. Your skin.” With a hollow smile I say gently, “I'm not feeling too good. I think I'm gonna go lie down.” He nods and places a hand on my back, giving me a little push. “I'll be in to check on you later, kay babe? I'm going to go over some of those accounts for now.” I shrug and make my way into the bedroom, closing the door with a definite bang. Trepidation etched my movements pick up the phone and dial Giles' number with easy remembrance. For a moment I'm catapulted back to the seconds where I focused on the numbers- trying to recall the numbers as my mother lay on the floor with broken ribs and a cracked expression. “Hello?” he answers and tears almost spurt into my eyes because he's so familiar and his very voice takes me drifting into the olden days when I was young and still naïve. “Hey Giles.” “Buffy, this is a nice surprise!” We chat for a few moments about nothing and everything. He tells me how the magic shop is going and that Willow and Xander are doing better. I don't tell him about Angel. He asks how Mike is and I say fine and I think sometimes he wonders why I'm with him, but he's too Britishly polite to say anything. “Giles,” I say carefully. “I've been having these dreams.” “What kind of dreams?” he responds and I can almost see him taking off his glasses and rubbing his nose. It makes me smile involuntarily and that gives me the strength to carry on. “Dreams about… well, they're strange. In them, I'm this woman… well, she might be a Princess… her name is Byrony… and she's… she's on this planet that's dying. She's… involved with this man named Alesso… anyway, today I had one when I was wide awake. It was like a memory flash or something. Seriously creepy.” He “hmmms” for a few minutes and it feels endless until he murmurs thoughtfully, “Give me some time to research it, Buffy and then I'll give you a call back, all right?” “Ok, thanks a bunch, Giles.” “You're quite welcome, Buffy.” As he hangs up he already sounds distracted and I know he's probably got his head buried in some musty tome. I lay my head back on the pillows and wish for another life. One without dreams and restlessness and the hot seed of Angel inside me. Curling up against the cotton, I hope for no darkness in my sleeping wanderings and doze with a fitful sigh. ~~~ I'm walking alongside a silver river. It bubbles and hisses and as I stare into the diamond depths, I'm startled at my own reflection. The shock of it… my swollen belly and the fall of lion gold hair… and my mouth. A huge bruise, purple and an angry red, patches alongside my lips and when I flick my tongue out, it stings. I've been slapped. I've been hit with a brawny fist. But by whom? I can't remember and it's distressing. Running my hands down the sides of my white gown, I watch the way the fabric ripples and I wish for my Alesso and I wish for something else than what I have become. A broken shell of the warrior I was once, cowered beneath the higher powers. There are shackles upon my delicate wrists and yet there is no one there to stop me from walking. And then he comes from the shadows and I see him with my terrified heart. “Love,” he says softly and takes my fingers, his thumbs brushing over the cuffs and I see his mouth tighten with rage. “Don't,” I whisper quietly and he presses a kiss to my mouth, to the shiny skin there that is marred with the furious red and holds me tenderly, as if I might break and crumble like so much dust to the desert wind. “I thought you were leaving,” I say and curve myself around his body. “I couldn't. I thought I could, but Byrony…” “Shush…” I hold a quivering palm to his mouth and spread my hand to encompass the dearness of his features. “Shhh, love…” Tears drip over my cheeks, as he weeps and kisses me, his hands outlining my stomach, where our child grows. “What will happen to him?” “I do not know,” I moan with increasing pain and feel my womb contract with a wail. My baby doesn't want to die and I don't want to die… but I know that is what awaits us and it makes me feel oddly numb. The only places where I feel alive are the buzzing in my belly and the skin that Alesso touches. His black panther eyes gleam in the stillness of the air and I glance over his shoulder where the moon grazes the sky, it's fat outline stark and white with no relief. I'm scared. I'm blank. There's a child filling me right at this moment, and I can almost feel it's soft hand in mine. But now I'm realizing the future holds only a rope and my swan like neck- and I suppose that is why Alesso is crying and kissing me, his hands sweeping over the expanse of my deadening skin. He knows we only have time left. Just particles of time… and they are growing restless like the desert winds. Ready to blow us away. I suppose— ~~~ When I awake to the shrill ring of the telephone, I blink because my eyes are salty and sit up, reaching blindly for the handle, bringing it to my ear. “Buffy?” It's Giles, and sniffling, I answer, “Hi… did you find anything?” His voice is strangely excited. “Yes, as a matter of fact I did. Byrony did exist Buffy. She was a Goddess. Have you heard of the Norse myth?” I shake my head automatically and say, “No, I'm sorry…” “That's quite all right. They believed that there were seven worlds… but anyhow… the particulars are not so important. Byrony was a Goddess who lived on the planet of Aspar- which was made of fire and gold. It was a haven to the ones who ruled the realm.” I'm struggling to comprehend this and choke back all the millions of questions bubbling on my lips. “Who was Alesso?” “Alesso… as far as I can see, lived on the planet of Nifliem- which was below Aspar- and rested just above Hel. In the legend- Byrony falls in love with this man and he with her- although it is forbidden since her kind is sworn enemies with his. However, as far as I have read, they were destined to have a child that would be an ascendant to a line of warriors who would save Earth- which was one of the seven planets in their myth- but before the baby could be born… Byrony was executed— “By hanging?” I whisper dully and Giles sounds faintly apprehensive as he responds, “Yes, actually, how did you know that?” “Dreams,” I reply and then inquire, “Did you find out anything else? Like why this chick is invading my bedtime? What happened to Alesso?” “He disappeared after Byrony died. He was never heard from again.” A chill pebbles my skin into goosebumps and I attempt to ignore it, murmuring, “Thanks, and could you call if you find anything else?” He says he will and we hang up and my life and the dreams play around me like ghosts. I see Mom and Dawn- their hair glinting in the sunshine afternoon when we went into the backyard and played like fools in the grass. I feel her ribs crunching underneath my punishing hands and hear the “probably” of the paramedics and her glassy eyes wincing with the death she couldn't stop. I taste Dawn's blood because when I did CPR on her- some of the liquid from her split lips pooled into my teeth and I gagged and sobbed and beside me, Xander raged with grief and Willow screamed and moaned- and she sounded like an animal and I wanted to die. Just die. But I didn't and sometimes I think that's a shame. I see Alesso- Angel- his moonlight skin against mine in the hot sands of the desert. I see myself- Byrony- wearing the white robes of a Queen- fighting the internal battles of love versus duty. ~~~ When I knock on Angel's door, I feel the sweet scent of Paris overwhelm me. It's still hot out- almost sickly with sweat- but the blossoms growing in every corner have prevailed and all I can smell is flowers. Flowers and rain. But that might just be because Angel is near. “Hey.” His husky voice reaches my ears and my head jerks up to gaze at him. “Hi,” I mutter and take a step towards him, my skirt sticking to the sweat on my thighs. “Can I… come in?” “Do you need to ask?” he looks serious and leads me inside. “I'm not sure,” I answer and cross my arms defensively over my chest, feeling my nipples peak underneath the cotton of my T-shirt. Just being near him is enough. I can smell him, and it smells like something I want to be close to. Like his skin and his… biting my lower lip firmly, I face him and swallow. “Did you talk to Giles?” “Yeah. He had some interesting stuff to say,” I whisper and realize all I'm thinking about is tearing off my clothes and pressing every inch of my flushed body to his. “But I…” “But you what?” he asks hoarsely; I look and see that he isn't concentrating either and his gaze is on my curves and my blushing cheeks and everything gets a little blurry. “I hate you,” I say harshly and slap him so hard I hear the crack and he yanks me against him, his mouth crushing mine in a frenzy of what we do not understand. “God… I love you…” He almost laughs at my contradictions but instead I feel bed sheets soft against my back and realize he's pulled me into his room and then his fingers slide under my skirt and his face is between my legs and--- and the world is spinning- my head dizzy—as his tongue drags over my hot center, slamming inside with all the hunger that it once sucked blood with… “Please…” I whimper, and grip his face, bringing him close so I can kiss him as he rips and tears at our clothes, until we are naked- skin to skin and it's addictive. His muscles bunch and ripple beneath my fingertips as I grasp his back and feel the heaviness of his cock drive into me- filling my insides with something more than just imagination. “Angel!!!!!!” I scream, and feel the tears coursing from my eyes as he cups my face and kisses my swollen mouth, whispering that he loves me, and that he's never stopped and it's enough- it's always been enough and I never want to leave here. His weight on top of me is so satisfying that I won't let him move and we fall asleep that way- curled and entwined. I awake with a cry in the middle of the night and Angel soothes me with his lips. “What's wrong, Buffy?” “I didn't dream tonight,” I whisper and touch my stomach. next