Rating: Like the show.
Disclaimer: Joss and friends.
Spoilers: Umm...WML and everything up to that?...
Synopsis: A missing scene from "What's My Line II" Joss never bothered to write. Just a little something he probably would have done better, but instead didn't do at all. Anything more will give the plot away (not that there is one...there's actually no plot...never mind ;)).
Feedback: Yes, pretty please? Even if to say it's crappy (cuz it probably is...).

I've felt the hand of the Devil, felt his breath on my skin
Dip me into the water, wash me again
Can I still be forgiven for all of these things?
Or have I gone too far now?
Have I lost my wings?
- Tim McGraw, 'Angel Boy'

He gazed into her eyes, barely able to see anything through his blurry vision, but able to see her. She was so beautiful, her eyes beholding him with so much love, her arms holding him with such gentleness, that alone possessed the power to heal in him wounds he wasn't yet aware of. He sighed, and closed his eyes, allowing his body to relax in the comfort of her arms, relishing the gentle caress of her hand on his cheek. For the first time in his over two-hundred years, he really knew what it meant, lying in the arms of an angel. She was an angel, HIS angel, in all aspects that mattered. He had never seen so much unconditional love and devotion in a person's eyes like he had only a moment ago, when his were peering into hers. Oh, yes...he had. His lips curved up in the feeblest resemblance to a smile as he recalled what had happened on the ice-rink. How could he ever doubt her after that? No one, but this little girl in whose arms he was so securely held now, had ever seen him as a worthy HUMAN being before, even he himself didn't know what had she found in him that deserved her love. In her arms, there was no sorrow, no past, no pain. In her arms, he was a man. Loved and in love, but first and foremost, a man, a person, who mattered.

Her movements snapped him back into the real world, and he once again became aware of his body weakening from the pain and blood loss. Then there was a second person, helping her to pull him up to his feet. He was unable to focus his mind on exactly for how long they were on the move, but suddenly, they stopped, and he found himself in her arms again. That was the very moment his body gave in to the lack of both blood and strength, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Giles wiped his brow, removing his glasses, and flickered at the burning church they had just escaped. The building was rapidly being consumed by the hungry flames, and soon there would be almost nothing remained from it. He polished his bleary lenses with a handkerchief and restored the glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"I think it's safe to believe...we won't be hearing from Spike or Drusilla anytime soon," he observed, blinking at the church.

"Now, tell me exactly how is this a bad thing?" Xander quipped, lazily sliding down from a tombstone, appearing to be so worn out as if he had just lifted a house all by himself.

"A good thing, mostly," the Watcher considered, "although I prefer to be completely sure they didn't escape."

"Oh, please!" Cordelia exclaimed, gesturing at the burning building, or rather, what's left of it. "I give it five minutes tops to crumble to dust, with the love-birds in it. And anyhow, they'd better be dead, because otherwise I'll hunt them down myself. Their warm-guy destroyed my shoes."

"I'm sure they thought her majesty would be wearing shoes she didn't need when going after a demon," Xander smirked, "so I bet they meant no harm...ow!" he rubbed his sore arm.

"I DON'T have shoes I don't need, Harris," the brunette hissed at him. "Once I do, I'll give them to charity, to secure you a future."

Giles shook his head, leaving them to their bickering, and faced his Slayer, who had been uncharacteristically silent all the while, sitting on the ground with her boyfriend in her lap. "Buffy?"

The blonde gazed up from Angel's face to her Watcher's.

"How is he?" he inquired, kneeling down next to her.

Buffy smiled, obviously, a bit surprised at the blunt display of concern. She looked down at Angel again, gently caressing his features, then back at Giles. "I think he passed out," she observed.

The Watcher lifted Angel's punctured hand from the ground, closely inspecting the wound, not saying anything.

"How can Dead-Boy pass out?" Xander wanted to know. "I kinda thought you needed to be alive in order to do that."

"Xander, grow up!" Buffy grimaced, shaking her head, but not taking her eyes off of her lover.

"They tortured him before the ritual," her Watcher pointed out, drawing the Slayer's instant attention.

"What?!" she demanded, after realizing what he was referring to.

"This is Holy Water," he gestured at the scalds all over Angel's chest. "It's clear he was also exposed to sunlight for a rather long period of time."

Buffy's eyes roamed over Angel's body, then met her Watcher's, frowning. "Giles, how could they have exposed him to sunlight, they're..." she trailed off in realization as her gaze shifted to her sister-Slayer.

Kendra looked away in slight mortification.

The Englishman looked between the two girls, stopping on the blonde. He cleared his throat. "Buffy, I'm sure Kendra..."

But she didn't even let him finish. "Giles, I need your help. I need to move him to his apartment. I'm not waiting for dawn, and besides, he needs to rest, and he needs to feed."

"In this case, don't count on me sticking around when he wakes up," Xander commented playfully, rising to his feet.

Cordelia smacked his arm, and this time, his childish 'aww' was actually justified. "Which part of 'grow up' didn't you understand?" she asked, receiving an astonished look from him. "I you don't need us, I'm off, I still need my beauty sleep," she yawned at Buffy, grabbing Xander's sleeve. "And I'm taking THAT with me, before he does any further damage." At the Slayer's grateful nod, she turned to go, tugging the boy after her.

"So, can I count on you?" the blonde asked her Watcher, getting back to their former topic, as soon as the couple was gone.

"Yes," he faltered, clearing his throat, "yes, of course."

*

Buffy locked the door to Angel's apartment after she and Giles had brought him in, and helped her Watcher get him to a nearby armchair, while she would make his bed.

"What in God's name happened here?" the Englishman asked, referring to the wrecked apartment around him.

"Kendra," the blonde replied evenly, blowing a pillow. "It's a good thing we kept the bed intact."

"I see," Giles nodded in observation then looked back at his Slayer. "Buffy, about Kendra..."

"Don't," she stopped her doing and swiftly whirled around, holding up her hand. "I DON'T wanna talk about Kendra. Right now, what's pressing is my boyfriend, which happens to be a LITTLE more important than miss-I'm-a-Slayer-I-slay. And quite frankly..."

"Buffy," he cut her off, "I think he's coming around."

"Well, the ride in your car pretty much gave him all the time he could need," she remarked with a grin, her voice filled with concealed relief, pacing over to Angel, to help Giles move the vampire to his bed.

"Then maybe next time we'll take yours," the Watcher retorted.

"I can't drive," she shrugged, smiling, "that's MY excuse."

"Buffy?" Angel whispered her name, blinking in attempt to clear his nebulous vision.

"I'm here," his girlfriend beamed, stroking his face with her knuckles. "Now, lie down," she gently guided him down on the bed.

He obeyed, wincing as he lay down. Suddenly, he propped himself up on his elbows, but Buffy immediately blocked him with two firm hands on his shoulders.

"And where do you think you're going?" she demanded, giving him a challenging look he couldn't quite see anyway.

Angel briefly closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. "I need to...I need to feed," he mumbled, "I need blood," he breathed out.

"I know," she covered him, pulling the blanket over his chest, "I'll get it to you myself."

"No," he declined, but as much as he tried, not sounding convincing at all, especially due to the fact he could barely keep his eyes open. He endeavored to get up again, but she wouldn't let him.

Buffy leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his damp brow. "Please, stay down," she requested, before standing up.

"Watch him," she instructed her Watcher, while making her way to the little fridge.

When she was back, she was carrying two mugs of blood in her hands, and a first-aid kit under her right arm.

She put the kit and one of the mugs on the floor next to the bed after sitting down on it, and held the other one before Angel, after helping him up to a sitting position.

He sent one hand to the cup, but at the last moment, hesitated, and pulled it back. His eyes traveled between the Slayer and her Watcher, then rested again on the blood.

Buffy bit her lip, and faced Giles, signifying with her gaze she wanted him to leave, a hint he instantly picked up, and slipped out of the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

"I can't do this," Angel confessed before his girlfriend when they were alone, casting his eyes away from her.

She gulped. "Because of me?"

He only nodded.

Buffy touched his shoulder gently, by that, making him face her. "Angel, don't you know me better than that?"

He peered at her for a long moment. "It has nothing to do with that," he swallowed. "It isn't you, Buffy...it's me."

"That's the oldest line in the book," she chuckled bitterly, but he didn't seem to be amused at all by his choice of words.

"I can't," was all he said.

"I understand," she nodded, sighing. "Are you sure you'll be okay if I?..." she motioned towards the door.

Angel peered at her. She amazed him. In his wildest dreams he had never even dared to hope for anyone accepting him, loving him so purely, so completely, so unconditionally. And there was this person, sitting right in front of him, a little human girl, a Slayer. HIS Slayer. His. Angel couldn't help the warmth taking over his cold dead heart whenever he merely thought of her. He could almost feel his heart beating again, and it felt so good. It felt so good...to love. That little girl had accepted him, she loved him, and to top it all, she also granted him the freedom of choice, making it clear it was up to him whether he wanted her, that she would always be there either way. And for that, he was grateful beyond words.

"No," he murmured, and hesitantly took his first sip from the cup in her hand.

Buffy smiled slightly, taking his free hand in hers. "Thank you," she whispered, and even his ears barely picked it up. But they did.

After he had emptied both mugs, he lay down, drawing in a deep, unnecessary, breath.

"You need more," she pointed out, taking his injured hand in hers and fishing for the first-aid kit.

"It'll close by itself eventually," he remarked, as if utterly disregarding her words. But Buffy knew he had heard her. "I'm a vampire," he swallowed, closing his eyes, "I heal fast."

"Then you wouldn't mind if you healed a bit faster. Too tight?" she asked, before taping the dressing.

Angel shook his head.

She applied the tape, and brought his hand to her lips, tenderly brushing them over it. "How are you?" she asked.

"Tired," he breathed out, inwardly, not really knowing what she was expecting him to say.

"I'm sorry," his girlfriend whispered, peering down on her hands. "I'm sorry I let this happen to you."

The vampire opened his eyes, and reached out for one of her hands. "Buffy, you didn't LET anything happen to me," he sighed. "Spike needed me, he would have gotten to me...one way or another."

"Then maybe not directly," she agreed, although reluctantly. She gazed at her boyfriend, inwardly flinching to the sight of him. He was incredible pale, even more than normally, with dark circles underneath his eyes she hadn't even known vampires could have, and as much as he tried to conceal his pain and lassitude from her, he was failing miserably doing both. "I maybe had nothing to do with it, but Kendra did. She is a Slayer, and I was supposed to protect you from her, instead, I probably led her straight to you." He opened his mouth, but she didn't let him to utter a word. "She told me everything that happened, so don't even try. And fact remains, if she hadn't gotten to you, you would have been able to fight Spike off."

"Buffy," Angel squeezed her hand, grimacing a bit. "You had nothing to do with what happened with Kendra. I'm a vampire, she's a Slayer..."

"You're not a vampire!" the blonde exclaimed, before realizing it wasn't exactly making a lot of sense. "You're my boyfriend," she then added in a soft whisper.

"Your vampire-boyfriend," he chuckled, wincing slightly. "I only met Kendra for five minutes, and honestly...I'm lucky it wasn't longer. She's not exactly your kind of Slayer."

"She's the handbook-kind-of-Slayer," his girlfriend replied. "She couldn't even tell I wasn't a vampire when she fought me."

"Now I know what happened to my apartment," he glanced about the room.

Buffy shrugged, pulling her legs up to her chest. "Side-effects," she grinned.

Angel grinned too, wincing again and inhaling a shaky breath. Buffy instantly brought a gentle hand to his face and he covered it with his own in a comforting gesture. "What were you doing here to begin with?" he asked. "Were you looking for me?"

She gulped, choosing to remain silent.

Her boyfriend regarded her with tender anticipation.

"I was scared," she admitted in a small voice.

"Scared?" he reached out his hand and gently lifted her chin to make eye contact.

She nodded. "I...Giles had just told me everything about these Taraka guys, pretty much, that they can be everyone, everything and everywhere and I'll never know, and that they kinda want-me-dead-and-won't-give-up-until-they-get-me. I just took off, and...I didn't wanna go home. The first thing I thought of was coming here," she averted her eyes awkwardly. "That's where I feel safe, I guess. Anyway," she sighed, "so, I wound up in your place, but you were gone, so...I lay down, and before I knew what was happening to me, fell asleep. Next thing I know, Kendra shows up, and you can guess the rest," she shrugged.

Angel cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb over the soft skin. "I would never let anything happen to you," he promised.

"I know," Buffy smiled, "that's why I came here. But anyway, the guys had it all covered, so no more Taraka. Oh, Cordy ruined her shoes, I'm sure she'll love to tell you all about it, if you ask."

"I think I'll pass," he smiled.

"I think you should," she nodded.

"Buffy," his face became grave as he went on, "about Kendra..."

"What about her?" she asked, too quickly.

"Stop that," he requested gently, "listen to me, it wasn't her fault."

"Of course, I wasn't. It was her evil-clone all along, I should have guessed that!" she mocked.

"As I said before," he continued, "Kendra is nothing like you. You can't expect her to behave like you would have..."

"You're right," she nodded firmly," it pretty much covers it; not being like me gives her a license to kill. Maybe I should get myself one of those and go homicidal on everything that moves."

"Buffy, she's a Slayer," the vampire groaned, "her entire life, she has been taught to kill vampires. I doubt she was also taught to ask if and when they got their soul back, because their girlfriend happens to be a little protective," he had a hint of smile in his voice, but it didn't affect her.

"I'm not a little," she said sternly, "I'm a lot. In fact, I'm overprotective. And possessive too. Rule number one; people DON'T mess with my boyfriend."

"I think she learned her lesson," he said honestly. "Buffy, just talk to her. Try to understand why she does the things she does. She deserves a second chance."

"Angel, I almost lost you because of her!" the Slayer argued.

"But you didn't," her boyfriend reposed his hand on her knee. "I'm right here, and Kendra or no Kendra, that's where I'll always be."

She smiled tenderly, but soon the smile vanished. "Well, then while you're sticking around, why don't YOU talk to her?"

"Buffy," he persisted.

She sighed, giving in. "Alright. I'll be good-Buffy, I'll talk to Kendra and we'll become best buddies, and before you know it, we'll sleep over."

"I have a feeling you will," he remarked.

"Sleep over?" she shot him a look.

Angel grinned. "Become friends."

The blonde nodded. "At least, that's the less scary part," she considered.

"Thank you," he whispered, closing his eyes, as if drifting off into slumber.

"Angel?" Buffy's voice caused him to reopen his eyes and look at her. "Would you mind if I crashed here for the rest of the night?"

He could only peer at her, not really knowing what to answer.

The Slayer swallowed. "I don't want to leave you now, can I...can I stay with you? Please?" she beheld him hopefully.

Ultimately, he smiled, and invitingly opened the blanket for her, and Buffy slipped under it, kicking off her shoes. Angel wrapped one arm around her, and she snuggled in his arms like a small kitten, nuzzling his chest from time to time. And the only thought he could form that moment was that never before had he known what real love truly felt like.

"Good night," he whispered, and planted a kiss in her golden hair.

"Thank you," she murmured softly.

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