Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to take credit, the lucky bastard Joss Whedon and Twentieth Century Fox own all the characters

Spoilers: Up to Buffy season 6 and Angel season 3

Summary: The infamous 'reunion' between our two favourite warriors. The Buffster has just come back from hell, and needs a little 'Angelic' comfort. Buffy's POV. Again

Rating: PG

Content: Angsty, just the way I like it

Feedback: Gimme, gimme, gimme!! (slayage@hotmail.com)

Comment: I know that authors have been continually writing their version of what happened on that night, but I wanna give it a go too

Note: Text written in Italics represents flashbacks

I'm going to him. He's the only thing that makes sense to me now. Just hearing his voice for that one minute over the phone, it was like I was me again. The Buffy I used to be. The one that laughed, and cried, and loved. Now, I just feel empty. No matter how hard I try to connect with the gang, they¹re just a constant reminder of what I've lost. A constant reminder that they're the people that took everything from me, took away that peace. I try to shake myself out of this eternal limbo I seem to be stuck in, but I can't. I just can't.

I'm almost at our place now. I see Angel has already arrived, leaning against his convertible, looking out at the stars. He hears my mother's jeep pull up and he immediately stands up, tries to look at me through the windshield. I can tell he's nervous to see me. Almost half as nervous as I am to see him.

I stop next to a large oak tree, and turn off the ignition. As I open the door, I take a look at our beautiful surroundings. The small lake shimmers in the moonlight and I close my eyes and let the soft breeze flow over me. I exit from the vehicle slowly and the door closes with a soft bang. I continue to stand next to my car, looking at him, and he does the same from his car. Then, as if we are connected in mind, body, and soul, we begin our journey towards eachother at the exact same moment.

I hear Angel gasp softly as we finally reach eachother and his hand reaches up and comes into contact with my cheek. His reaction is almost as if he hadn¹t believed I was really alive until he touched me.

"You're-," he starts. "You're really here," he whispers, finishing his sentence. His eyes are already misty with tears.

I speak softly back to him. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm here." I cover his hand on my cheek with my own, lean into it, and close my eyes. Angel continues to stare at me, even through my closed eyelids. Just the feeling of our hands touching is enough to make me shiver. I silently thank him for finding me again, even if I¹ll only be the real me for the minutes we are together.

"How did you find out?" I ask him, not really caring about the answer to the question. I just want to hear his voice.

"Willow," he says simply. I open my eyes again and they quickly make contact with his. I take a glance away for a moment, and notice a small, wooden picnic table near another large tree, very close to the lake. I take his hand and begin to lead him to it, and he silently obeys. We sit down on the same side of the table and face eachother. I hold both of his big hands in my small ones, and our eyes never lose contact. It's amazing how we can express every emotion in our being through just that look.

"I can't believe you¹re really here. You came back to me," he says with wonder, and it¹s enough to bring tears to my eyes.

"I had to," I say with a soft smile. "How else could we continue the Buffy-Angel show?" I'm relieved to finally see a small smile begin to play on his lips as well. Those lips I once spent so much time kissing.

"I don't know what to say," he begins. "I'm sure there's a lot you¹re keeping inside, a lot of things you don't want to share with anybody, and I respect that. I understand. I didn't come here to force you to tell me everything you went through. Not yet." He pauses for a moment. "You need time. I just wanna hold you right now. Be with you."

His sweet words touch me right down to my seemingly dead heart, and I bring my hand up to trace the features of his face. His brow, his smooth, pale cheek, and finally over his pink, soft lips. He kisses my fingers softly and I smile. I rest my hand on the side of his neck and against my will, slowly pull him in and close the distance between us. My lips meet his as we close our eyes. We don't move for a moment, simply enjoy the high we both get whenever we touch. The kiss soon becomes more passionate, almost desperate, and I break it off before things go too far.

I try to catch my breath as I speak to him. "I'm sorry. I just-," I'm not sure how to finish that sentence, so I just let him look at me. He lifts up my hand to his lips, and kisses the palm gently. "You're the only one that understands," I say ever so softly. He smiles a sad smile. We are happy to just sit in silence for a while, looking into eachothers' souls through our eyes.

"I have something for you," he announces, breaking the stillness of the night.

I say nothing as he reaches into his long, black leather coat and pulls out a gleaming piece of jewelry that I am all too familiar with. I remember that night, so long ago.

"It's beautiful," I say, my tears leaving wet trails down my face. I look down at it as he holds it out in his hand.

"My people, before I was changed, they exchanged this as a sign of devotion. It's a claddagh ring."

Tears once again form in my eyes at everything that ring represents; friendship, loyalty, love. But it's also a reminder of the pain and suffering that love caused. I stare at the ring in his hands, and just as the question forms in my mind, he answers it.

"I found it, in the mansion, after I was brought back from hell. I wasn¹t sure why it was there, but I didn't want to ask you about it. So I decided to keep it. Turned out to be a pretty good decision, because it's the only thing I have left of you in LA."

"Why did you bring it then?" I inquire.

"I didn't feel it," he says. I¹m not sure what he means, so I sit quietly and wait for him to elaborate. "When you died, I didn't feel it. I mean, I always thought that the second something happened to you, I'd know it. I¹d just feel it, in my heart. In my soul." I still don¹t know what to say. But I do know that I feel the exact same way he does.

"I want you to have it. You don't have to wear it, it doesn¹t have to mean anything to you. I just have this theory that if you have it with you, next time, whenever that happens to be. I'll know. I'm not there to help you fight anymore, I'm not there to protect you." He laughs softly, "not that I was that great at doing it when I was there, but" I also laugh softly. He extends his hand with the ring, and I can see he's a little worried that I won't accept his offer. I do.

I take the claddagh, and slide it on my finger, slowly. He smiles when he sees it, but I notice the first tear roll down his cheek.

"You know I love you, right," I ask abruptly. I look at him, waiting for an answer.

"I do now," he replies quietly. "I'll always love you. No matter where you are, no matter how much distance is between us. And I don't just mean from Sunnydale to LA."

"I know," I say, comforted by that declaration. "Promise me something Angel."

"Anything." He waits for what I am about to say.

"Promise me that you'll come back to me, one day."

"Buffy-,"

"Please, Angel. You don't have to mean it, but I just need to hear it. I need something to keep me going." Another tear falls from my eye, and he wipes it with his thumb. "Please." I give him a look of desperation, and I know he'll give me what I want.

"I swear it," he says after a moment of deliberation. "I'll come back to you Buffy," he says, his voice sure, comforting. I smile at him and begin to weep softly. He stands up from the picnic table, and lifts me up as well, pulling me into his arms. It's amazing, but, for those few moments he holds me, everything's okay. I cry into his chest, and his hand tangles in my hair, as his chin rests on my head.

"I'll always come back to you Buffy." He cries softly into my hair. "Just not tonight, love. Not tonight." He pulls out of our embrace, and the weight that was on my shoulders since I was pulled out of heaven returns. Everything's not okay.

He looks at me one last time, then kisses me tenderly on my forehead. "I love you." Without another word, he backs up slowly and turns around, heading back to his car. He doesn't look at me again, probably because he doesn't think he could leave if he did. I hear the ignition kick in, and he slowly drives away, out into the night. I stand in the same spot, and stare at his car as it disappears into the darkness.

I return to the table we were sitting at moments ago, and sit down, staring into space, my pain returning. The moonlight catches the claddagh ring and attracts my eye. As I stare at it, I make a decision. No one else will know about tonight. It was made for the two of us.

FINIS