Angel roamed the dark streets of Sunnydale, looking for any sign of the vampire-slayer. Xander's words rang in his mind as he searched, and he wanted more than anything to believe him, to have the same faith Xander did, that in the end all things would work out for the best. But he was too old, he's grown to cynical, and he'd seen to much. He didn't have the same hopeful, youthful mind Xander did. It was over, Buffy was dead. What more was there to do and say? In the end all things would end the same, and Buffy would be a pile of dust, maybe, if she were lucky, a hundred years from now. The future slayer would see her and stake her, watch as she disintegrated, having no idea that the pile of dust in front of her had once been the slayer, having no idea the valiant but pointless fight her friends had put up to try and bring her back.
Bring her back. What a laugh. There was no coming back. Buffy had come back from death once, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. A voice that held onto Xander's words and wanted, more than anything, to believe them. But that had been different. That was a physical death, she hadn't been turned into a vampire, she'd just been killed.
He shuddered as he thought of Xander's idea to place the curse he had upon Buffy. Her soul was far to sweet and fragile to deal with fighting temptation like that every night, even if she was exempt from the guilt of having murdered the innocent.
He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice Buffy standing in front of him until he looked up. She smiled, and he thanked God she was in human form. He didn't want to see her vampire face, didn't think he'd be able to handle it. "Angel," she smiled, sweetly.
He swallowed, once again feeling the red tears well in his eyes. "Buffy," he said slowly.
She laughed. "Why do you fight what you are?" she asked, shaking her head. "Why didn't you ever tell me how delightful it is? How wonderful and free? I would have liked it much better if you were my Sire, instead of Spike." She shuddered delicately. "I still don't like him . . . but now we can be together, Angel. All you have to do is admit what you are . . . after all, you really ought to be the best you can be at everything you are."
"Buffy, you're not yourself," he started, wondering again what the point of this was. It hurt so much to be near her, to see her like this. But the voice in his mind echoed Xander's words, if there was even a chance of saving her he had to deal with the pain.
Buffy laughed again, the sound musical and dark at the same time. "No, really?" she said sarcascitally. "I've never felt so alive, so wonderfully amazing so . . . so aware of the world around me! I felt you before, you know. When Spike and I were talking. Why didn't you stop and say hello?"
"You really don't know, do you?" Angel asked, feeling those damned tears he'd been unable to stop fall down his face again.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, conscience soul. I've heard it, okay? But I can still feel the demon inside you, Angel. You can't fight it forever . . . why can't you enjoy it? With me?"
Angel felt physically ill. Not by her words, he'd expected as much considering the circumstances. But by the fact that a part of him actually screamed out in reply, a rather large part of him longed to take her up on her offer. Thankfully, the annoying conscience of his kicked in. "Tempting," he admitted. "But I prefer humans nowadays."
Buffy shrugged. "Hey, whatever works for ya, I guess." She turned to go.
Angel grabbed her arm. "I'm afraid it's not that easy, Buffy," he said.
She turned, and for a second, one brief, amazing second, she looked like Buffy the vampire slayer, and not Buffy the vampire. "Are you going to hurt me, Angel?"
Her words broke the spell. God, had she really said that? The exact words Druscilla had said only a few short months before. "No," he replied, closing ihs eyes for a second. "But there are some people who really want to see you, Buffy."
"Oh? Like who?" she asked.
"Xander, for one."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "God, even me becoming a vampire can't dissuade him." She gave Angel an exasperated look. "Oh well, I guess he'd make a good first meal. But I don't want to be escorted, thank you very much."
She pulled her arm away, or tried to. The second she felt the slightest resistance she kicked out, and he lost his grip. He automatically began to transform . . . but stopped when he saw her face. God . . . even with her vampire face on she was beautiful beyond comparison. The split second hesitation almost cost him his life as he saw the stake descending, he rolled over quickly, and it went straight through his left arm. He shrieked in agony, and knew he'd need help pulling that sucker out. He managed to stand, and the vampire-slayer looked at him with a small smile. "Force of habit. Always have a stake on you." She shrugged. "Who'd a thought Kendra'd get my job so soon, huh?"
"I never did," Angel said, totally unaware that those omnipresent tears had started leaking again. "Please, Buffy, don't make me fight you."
She laughed again. "Oh, please, Angel . . . You really think you can beat me? You may have experience, but I *was* the Slayer, and I've fought side by side with you before . . . I know your every move."
Just as he'd expected she launched herself at him, and he grabbed her with his right hand lightly, then his left, ignoring the searing pain. "And I know yours."
Buffy cried out in pain, and Angel immediately loosened his grip, worried that he'd hurt her. "You haven't won yet,"' she growled, again she kicked out, hitting him with her foot in his kneecap. He gasped in pain and his grasp on her shoulders loosened even more, just enough. She shrugged out of his grip and turned to face him in a fighting stance. "Angel, it doesn't have to be this way."
"I'm not going to join you, Buffy. I'm not like that . . . not anymore."
"Pity," she sighed. "I really do love you, ya know. But if you're gonna be all souly and boring n me, well, I guess all love must die." Again she toook out another stake, and Angel wondered, not for the first time, where she kept them. She threw, he jumped in the air, and this time it went through his chest, staying there. Great, he sighed to himself, knowing he wouldn't be able to take the Slayer\Vampire by force as wounded as he was.
"Buffy," he pleaded, knowing it was useless. "If there's anything human left in you at all, please, please come with me."
She looked at him and rolled her eyes. "Well, if you're gonna get all sentimental about it," she said with a shrug.
He blinked, shocked. "You . . . you mean it?"
"Sure, why not. Good way to kill an evening . . . one condition."
"What?"
"Afterwards I get to taste your blood," she said with a small smile. "I wanna know what it's like."
Angel sighed. "Fine, Buffy."
"Good. Let's get this over with, shall we? Oh, and we might wanna hurry. No offense, but you look a little odd with all those stakes poking outta ya."
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