A sour taste in my mouth wakes me up. Daylight hits my face, streaking it golden and as I'm squinting, I hear my Dad moving around, getting ready for work. Isn't that all he does? I've barely had a conversation with him while living here. The covers are warm and I don't even think of getting up at the moment. Class starts in about an hour, and there's no way I'd be able to make it.

My mouth tastes like spaghetti and then I remember…last night, eating with Angel, telling him all…making love to him on that hard kitchen table with the ceiling rushing down on me. I want to smack myself for being so reckless, for letting him come inside me just so I could feel full. Things could have happened…bad things and it would've been all my fault.

~~~

I used to think everything was my fault. When someone died in Sunnydale I would think, “I should've been here in time”. That's the story of my life. I should've done this, and I should've been here…blah blah blah. I used to wonder if Angel leaving me was my fault. Back in the summer, I would sit down on my bed and think of reasons why he left me…maybe I wasn't strong enough to deal with the relationship, maybe I was too young for him, maybe I just couldn't understand, maybe he felt completely guilty around me for all the things he'd done, maybe, maybe, maybe…

When my parents divorced it was my fault. I was a troublemaker (silly me, trying to save my classmates from vampires) and my Dad couldn't deal so he completely split. Yeah, so they fought a lot, but I just know…when it comes down to it…I was that proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

~~~

The shower water pounds over my back and runs between my legs in a hot gush. It's sore there, and I remember for one breathless second what it was like to feel him filling me, and to be suspended over that table with the side of it digging into my back…and my head starts to hurt because it is reminded of the way all the blood rushed to my temples and made me light headed.

Washing my hair with rose shampoo is reassuring, as is smoothing scented body wash with a loofah over my tight and aching flesh. My skin is burning. And I know it wants something. Maybe it wants to eat me. The water feels alive as it rushes over me and I lift my face, letting it fill my open mouth. I wish it would drown me and take away this confusion. My eyes sting and I realize they're getting hit by the hot water so I turn it off and stand shivering in the tub for a moment. Goosebumps appear on my skin but I don't reach for a towel.

~~~

I don't go to class. Instead I buy a bottle of water and some yogurt and sit on the quad, the sun slanting over me and blanketing me with sweat. The blue, blue sky looks a little too bright and it's making my eyes water. I knew she would come, and here she is, in a black cat suit that almost makes me laugh.

“Buffy,” she greets me with that contented purr which always infects her voice. It makes me want to slap her, and I don't look up.

“Juliet.”

Lowering herself onto the grass, I notice the way her pale flesh glistens slightly in the sunshine. “How do you do it?” I inquire, and I'm genuinely curious.

She smiles slowly, and grabs my water, her lips closing over it as she gulps down a refreshing sip. “I told you…it burns, but I can bear it.”

“Really?” I murmur, and wonder what it feels like. Maybe like someone is rubbing salt in an open wound? That thought makes my stomach roll and taking a bite of yogurt doesn't help. The creamy texture rolls down my tongue and I detect the faintest hint of blueberry. “So…I need answers here, Julie.”

Her teeth are sharp and white as she grins at me. “So do I. So does everyone, Buffy…and I can't give you all those answers you want. Not yet. The Council doesn't permit me to.”

“Fuck the Council,” I say succinctly and grab her arm, forcing her towards me. “I want to know what the hell is going on…cause you know, I have never trusted the Council before and I don't think I'm gonna start now. I'm the Slayer here…member…I could probably kill you in two seconds flat.”

“I don't think so,” she says softly, without her usual drawl. “I love you…you couldn't kill me…”

Her throat moves as she swallows and it makes me want to kiss her. I don't know why and it scares me so much that I can't breathe for a moment. “I don't believe you…you don't even know me, how could you love me?”

She giggles and sounds like a girl instead of a four thousand year old demon. “Why does someone love another person? I just do…Buffy…”

The way she says my name is different than others who say it. My mother always sounds faintly confused and exasperated, the way a mother would say your name when she doesn't understand you. My Dad hardly ever does, and when he does, it's in a reprimanding fashion that makes me bristle. I love him, but he's not one for the big emotion. My friends say it like I'm their hero. Like, “Oh thank God, BUFFY's here. She'll fix everything”.

And Angel…he says my name like it's an end to itself. Like it's all he wants to utter for the rest of his life…softly, like a lament…Buffy…Buffy…Buffy…he murmured it against me when he was inside me the other night…his voice throbbed with pain and tears and anguish. It made me want to scream because I couldn't fathom how one person could put so much feeling, pour so much *worth* into me…me, Buffy Summers. I'm no one really. And I've never understood why he felt so strongly.

Juliet says my name and it makes my skin crawl. It also makes me want to draw her towards me and taste it on her lips.

I thrust her away from me and she licks her mouth, gazing at me. “Okay…what can you tell me?” I finally sigh.

She takes a bite of my yogurt and looks at the sky pensively, finally answering, “There isn't much else, really. Look, you have a specific destiny, Buffy. Everyone on earth does. It's the order of things. Everyone has something they are meant to do. You were born to save the world, and so was Angel.”

“So he was supposed to become a vampire?” I ask, my head whirling.

“Yes,” she nods and tilts her raven head to the side. “Meeting Darla…that was his fate. He was also destined to feed off the gypsy and be cursed…however, as far as the Council tells me, he was fated to meet you, but not to fall in love with you.”

My chest hurts. I press my hand against my heart and swallow. “I know this. Can we cut to the chase please?”

She doesn't scowl like most people would, just leans back and rubs the bare skin of her arms. “Of course. You and he, as I told you, are fated to fight in the End of Days and win, thereby saving the planet. When this happens, he will be granted what he wants most…his redemption.”

“Redemption?” I repeat slowly, not sure what she means.

“His humanity.”

Oh My God.

I don't know what to say. It feels like a clamp has tightened around my throat. I'm so full of happiness and confusion and sadness all at once. “Does Angel know?” I finally choke out and she shakes her head.

“No,” she replies and then continues, “After the fight, as I said, he will have his humanity the world will be saved.”

“What'll happen to me?” I inquire, suddenly realizing she has never said. She looks at me. I know.

“WHAT?”

“As I said…you beat them…you win. But…you see…”

Are those tears I see glimmering in her eyes? Oh God, oh God…my stomach is rolling and I feel bitter bile well in my throat. It's black, just like my fate. I can feel it. “Tell me Juliet.”

“I'm sorry, Buffy,” she murmurs and I stand up, shouting at her.

“NO! You know what? I DON'T GIVE a FUCK for what the FUCKING Council says! I don't care…” I'm crying, and the salt burns my cheeks, already reddened by the sun. “I'm not gonna die…” I can feel myself faltering, and my voice getting soft. No. No. This isn't happening. “No…I'm too young. I'm not going to die…”

She just looks at me as I start to whisper, “Angel becomes human so we can finally be together and I…die? Wow. Gotta love the irony there…”

If I don't laugh I'll start crying again. Wiping my cheeks, I feel hysterical giggles welling in my throat. “I have to go…seriously, give the Council my best.”

“Wait, Buffy…” she says softly, but I don't listen, cause I'm afraid I'm going to throw up. My skin hurts and I jump on the bus, heading for the beach.

I find a quiet place and sit there, methodically shredding seaweed in between my trembling fingers as the green ocean roars on the shore. Maybe I should just jump in. I wonder what would happen. Angel's not around to save me this time. It's an appealing thought. The sunlight is starting to burn me, and I wonder if I'm actually a vampire, about to burst into flames. Wouldn't that be a poetic end for a vampire Slayer.

I want to end it now. How can I just sit around and wait calmly for death? How could Juliet just sit there, eating my goddamn yogurt and blab on about how I was going to die to save this planet…? I don't even want to die for this earth…it's certainly never thanked me before…

As I watch the water curl and hiss and the white foam breaks on the shore, I sift sand and think of my dream. The red desert and the demons bowing and my white gown. With a shaky hand I start to build a sandcastle.

~~~

When I was little I loved to build sandcastles. I would get all my pails and shovels and sit there in my shrunken bathing suit constructing moats and towers and roads. I even used to put drawbridges in using little pieces of wood. My Dad thought they were great. He'd pat me on the back and ruffle my hair. “Good work Buffy.” He always said that and I would smile with my crooked baby teeth, happy that he liked my creation. My Mom always tried to dress it up with seashells.

Days at the beach with my small family were always happy for me because I loved the sun and salt and water. But I never went far out because I was afraid of the deep end. The deep end of that endless blue slate, which my mother used to laugh at. “There is no deep end, honey. Just a little drop off here and there.” But I knew there was. I knew that you could swim deep and down and down and down and that it was scary and dark.

Looking at the ocean, I stand up, taking off my skirt and shirt, leaving on my bra and panties, heading out into the waves. They crash over me and it's so cool and welcoming. The salty kiss of the water touches my head as I dive down deep and touch the sand at the bottom. A crab nips my hand and I wonder if it'll start to bleed. My hair whips out behind me like a mermaid's and it's magical. Deeper and deeper I swim and feel my lungs start to expand. It's nice down here…so nice. Full of shuuush. Silence and peace. I turn over and through watery eyes stare up at the sky. It looks so far away and is bobbing and shimmering like waves. That's when I remember I'm far down on the ocean bed and I open my mouth to breathe and water fills me up so I'm not empty anymore. No more emptiness, and my eyes start to bleed as my legs contort and it all goes black.

~~~

Salt. Dryness. Hurts, hurts.

“Don't touch her arm…she's sunburned…”

Who is that?

Oh god my head is killing me…

“Buffy?'

Angel. I know his voice and I want to say something but my throat doesn't work. It feels like I swallowed glass. And my eyelids are heavy. Oh God…I want to panic. I can't say anything…I can't move…

My eyes…so heavy…opening them slowly, I'm greeted with a harsh light and cringe; hearing Angel say, “Turn down the lights damnit.”

He sounds angry, but I realize it's not at me. The lights are dimmed and he's smoothing my cheek with feather light touches. It stings, because I'm sun burned, but I don't ever want him to stop. “Angel?” I manage to croak out and he smiles at me, his eyes shining and wet.

“Hi, love. Are you all right?”

Am I? No. I don't think so. “I'm fine,” I reply, my voice gravelly, and my throat parched. “Water…”

He lifts a glass to my lips instantly and it slides down easy, but it stings to and I want to cry suddenly. “What happened?”

“You don't remember?” he questions and sighs softly. “Oh…you're lucky…a surfer was far out and happened to look down…he spotted you, you were drifting face down, and you weren't…” he pauses and swallows, “you weren't breathing. Thank God he knew CPR…”

Me? Drifting face down in the sea?

And then I remember. The burn of the salt, the cool water, the ocean drowning my lungs, my eyes bleeding red, the sky…so far away…

“I remember,” I reply quietly, and look around the hospital room. It's stark and white and unlike the ones I so often see on TV, it's not blanketed with flowers from well wishers. God, I hate hospitals and the sick medicine smell is getting to me already. “I want to go.”

He looks startled and shakes his head. “Buffy…you can't.”

“Did I ask for your permission?” I snap and don't feel bad about it. “I want to leave. NOW.”

He almost smiles and then nods. “Should've known better than to argue. You're staying with me though. I can't get a hold of your father.”

That sounds fine to me. I smile slightly and nod. “Ok…wait, how did you find out I was here anyway?”

He looks embarrassed and it's so Angel. That confused, deer-in-headlights look. “Oh…well, you were sort of drifting in and out of consciousness when the guy managed to get you breathing again. You kept saying my name…and I'm well known around the hospital…”

Figures. “Oh. Well, good thing,” is all I can force out and sit up. A wave of dizziness hits me square in the forehead and I feel nauseous. Gripping his arm, I ignore his anxious questions and focus on not feeling sick. It's a Slayer trick, and has a lot to do with meditating. It helps while I'm in a fight. “Ok…where are my clothes?”

He sends me a bit of a withering glance. “On the beach where you left them…probably washed out by the tide by now.” He takes off his sweater and then hands it to me. “Put this on, love.”

It envelops me and I snuggle into it. It smells like him, cool and salty and like incense and home. My hair is hard with dried sea water and my skin tingles. He lifts me from the bed and I fight the urge to vomit, pressing my face against his shoulder as he carries me from the room, not even bothering to sign me out. I guess he knows they would never let me go. He whispers that he'll come back and pay the bills later. It makes me want to cry. I feel like I'm his wife.

~~~

His bed is warm and he tells me he'll change the sheets but I don't want him to. Almost clumsily, he lays me out and covers me with the duvet and it feels better than the water did. “Angel…” I whisper and he's beside me at once.

“Yes, love?”

“Were you scared when you saw me?”

He closes his eyes and I know it's a selfish question. Maybe I'm selfish. “Scared isn't the word,” he finally responds and lays a hand on my face. Feeling my flinch, he gets up and comes back a moment later with a bottle of aloe vera.

Without even really thinking, I toss back the covers and remove his sweatshirt. “I'm burned all over.”

Swallowing, he squeezes some onto his palm and begins to smooth it painstakingly over my face. Then his fingers rub gently down my shoulders and neck and collar bone, in between my breasts and to my belly. The gel is cool and green and my skin soaks it up, tingling ever so slightly with pain and relief. Wriggling under his sweet touch, I stare up at him, his dark eyes and pale flesh and smile. “Did I ever tell you you're the greatest boyfriend?”

I expect him to wince when I call him that, but he doesn't, just continues massaging me tenderly with the cold substance and half smiles, his gaze meeting mine. He doesn't answer, and soon he's done and my flesh feels newer.

Leaning down, he begins to press a kiss to my forehead but then seems to change his mind and his lips meet mine in a drugging, drowsy kiss. “Don't ever do that again,” he murmurs.

“Do what?” I ask him and he sits back, regarding me seriously.

“Go into the ocean when I'm not there to save you,” he finally answers.

I wonder if I would have let him save me this time. “I won't.”

It doesn't satisfy him. He's worried, and he loves me, and I like having someone concerned about me. My head spins and I can feel the affects of the aloe working it's magic. Sleep is claiming me, and the bed is so soft and warm and it smells like my love and my life. As I feel myself begin to drift off, I think I hear him sobbing, but assume it's just a dream.

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