Buffy turned and walked out of the shop, welcoming the cool breeze of the evening. The shop had turned stuffy on her hours before and the heat that came over her just from being in Angel’s presence was almost stifling. She walked down the street, lost in her thoughts.

I’ve got to get a hold of myself, she chastized herself. This is ridiculous. You haven’t even seen Angel in over a year now. Your relationship has been over for a lot longer than that. One dream and you’re back to being a cream puff wherever he’s concerned.

What really bothered her was that these emotions had sprung up again overnight. The mention of Angel becoming Angelus had not only spun her head, but had brought on unrelated feelings…love, regret, desire, and worst of all, hope. Hope was the biggest enemy to their relationship. In recent years, while never forgetting what she had shared with Angel and had tried to find with Riley, she had really moved on. She hadn’t found love again, but she had found brief companionship. But none of it was ever real.

Yesterday, I was fine. Today, I’m a lovesick disaster. I won’t lie to myself, Angel has always been the "big love." But...it's impossible, and it's over.

Except...except for sometimes, when she dreamed. In her dreams, Angel was alive. She was standing in the sun, on a pier, and suddenly he was behind her, grabbing her in passion and devouring her mouth with his own. And after that, they were together, forever in love, forever at each other's side.

She'd shared that dream with Willow, once, long ago. Fascinated, and sorry for the incredible sad woman in front of her, Willow had tried to comfort.

"Buffy...don't get me wrong...but I know you. And to look at you now...Buffy, you sound like you want this." Willow's eyes had searched her friend's. "Do you? You and Angel?"

Back in the present, Buffy stopped dead in her tracks. Maybe that’s my problem, she realized, bringing herself back to the present. I’ve never believed that Angel and I wouldn’t end up together. And now he’s going to become Angelus…I can’t kill him again. Killing Angel, so many years ago, was possibly the hardest thing she had ever done. The memory of that night assaulted her.

The battle had been great. Spike had snuck out with an unconscious Drusilla and Xander had rescued a bloodied Giles from the mansion on Crawford Street. Only she and Angelus remained, fighting to the death to prevent him from, or, if he won, to allow him to open the gates to Hell. Swords were the weapons that night, and Angelus was getting the better of her. At the last minute she realized that in the end, as Whistler had told her, she only had herself. She took control of the fight and just as she was about to take his head, Angelus shuddered and let out a horrible shout. His eyes flashed a bright yellow-orange and he collapsed to his knees. She had paused her fight, still poised to take his head when he, as he would surely do, dropped the act and tried to overcome her.

But he didn’t. Instead, he looked at her, really seeing her for the first time in months, since he had killed Jenny Calendar, tortured Giles, allowed Willow to be put in a coma, Xander’s arm to be broken, and for Kendra to die. Since he had taken her innocence, shown her what love could be, and broken her heart. The look he gave her was one of pure love.

“Buffy?” he had gasped. “What’s going on?”

She kept her sword at the ready, but hope began to creep into her heart.

He stood up. “Where are we? I don’t remember…”

She lowered her sword. “Angel?” she whispered, disbelief clear in her voice. Willow had performed the spell to restore his soul...and it had worked. Angel was back.

“You’re hurt,” he said, eyeing a cut on her arm, before they came together in a hug that had felt so wonderful she had to shut her eyes against the rest of the world. When she opened them, she wished she hadn’t. Standing behind him was Acathla, the demon Angelus had tried to awaken, and who would now suck the world into Hell if Angel didn’t die to seal the portal. Any moment now, Acathla would open his mouth and the world would end.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in months…everything’s so muddled,” he said, still holding her. Acathla’s mouth opened. She moved back from Angel and looked into his eyes.

“What’s happening?” he asked, out of breath and confused.

“Shhhh…” She whispered. “Don’t worry about it.” They kissed, and even now, just with the memory of it, tears sprang to her eyes at the shear joy she had felt in that moment.

She pulled away and told him, “I love you,” tears making her voice thick.

“I love you too,” he said.

“Close your eyes,” she whispered, nodding slightly, encouragingly, when he looked doubtful. She kissed him gently, tears swelling in her eyes. And then she drew back her sword and stabbed him through the chest.

He shouted in pain and extended an arm to her, imploring her to help him. Confusion and pain mixed in his eyes. “Buffy?” he asked…and then he and Acaltha were sucked into Hell. And with that, her world had ended.

She came out of her memories with the sad feeling she always had when thinking of that night. Her only comfort was that the gods had been kind and released him from Hell so that he may do good on Earth. That night, as it turned out, had not been their last night together, for which she was eternally grateful.

So I’m still in love with him, she thought, even more so than I thought I was. So what? We’re friends now. That’s all we can ever be. At that thought she laughed out loud, a brittle sound filled with remorse. “You’re assuming he even thinks of you that way anymore, Summers.”

“What way?” came a voice from behind her. So much for always feeling his presence, she cursed at herself before turning to face Angel.

“Hi,” she said, ignoring his question, and wondering how long he’d been standing there.

“I know you said you wanted to walk alone, but can I bother you for a minute?” he asked, his brown eyes seeking her green ones, pleading silently.

She shrugged. “Sure.” The pair turned and walked down the street in the direction Buffy had been headed. “What’s up?”

“Buffy…I don’t know what’s going on. You seem…distant,” he said carefully.

She raised a sculpted eyebrow at him. “Angel, I haven’t seen or heard from you in over a year. What did you expect? A welcoming party?” The sharp words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

The vampire looked even more uncomfortable. “I’ve kept tabs on you. You haven’t needed me for a while.”

You don’t know how wrong you are, she thought, and could have smacked herself. This stops now. “Oh, well, if you’ve kept tabs on me, that’s the same as a phone call or a visit,” she shot back.

“You haven’t exactly been ringing my phone off the hook you know,” he said bitterly, defensively.

“Angel…” Buffy said, preparing to spar with him, but then stopped. She stopped walking and turned to him. “Let’s stop this, okay? It’s the same way every time we meet again. We’re uncomfortable, we argue, we make up…lather, rinse, repeat. It’s old.”

He stopped and turned around to look at her. Gently, he began to grin. “I wonder why that is.”

She returned his rueful smile. “I don’t know.” They continued to walk in silence for several blocks.

“I’ve missed you.” He had been thinking the words, had never intended to let them slip out, but there it was. "How are you?"

She stiffened slightly, but forced herself to relax. “I’ve missed you too. And...I'm good. Considering.”

“I want you to know, not that it matters anymore, but I need for you to know…I haven’t been with anyone. Whatever the reason is for me changing, that’s not it.”

She stopped and took his hand in hers. “And not that it matters, but I already know. Since you said it back at the shop I’ve never doubted it,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze and dropping it.

“Thanks."

“So, what are we going to do?” she asked, desperate to change the subject and to clear the mounting tension.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. This is a new one for me…” his words were cut off as a vampire flew over a park bench and tackled Buffy.

“Buffy!” Angel shouted as she was knocked to the ground.

“Uff!” Her breath came rushing out of her as she landed roughly, the vampire on top of her, struggling to bite.

Angel ran to her and pulled the vampire off, punching him across the face. “Angel!” Buffy shouted. “Two more!” Two more vamps, a male and female, were running at them. Buffy moved into action as Angel fought the first vampire. The female ran at Buffy and Buffy quickly bent over from the waste, flipping the vampire over and onto the ground.

“Hello,” Buffy said sweetly as she stood over her, “you should have stayed in tonight,” and promptly dusted her. The male vampire looked from her to Angel, who had finished dusting the other, and ran.

“Angel!” Buffy called and tossed him a stake. Angel picked it out of the air easily and launched it at the retreating vampire. The sound of a dusting came from the distance and they knew that fight was over.

“You okay?” Angel asked her as she caught her breath.

Buffy rubbed at her shoulder. “Yeah, I think so…you?”

He nodded, then sniffed the air. Looking her up and down he ordered, “Turn around.” Her brow furrowed quizzically but she complied and turned, her back to him. “Your jacket’s ripped, you’re cut,” he announced, fingering the shredded leather low on her shoulder. “You must have ripped it when that vamp tackled you.”

She removed the jacket and tried to inspect her back over her shoulder. “I can’t see…is it bad? It doesn’t hurt much.”

Angel gazed at the site of bare skin when she removed her jacket. Her sleeveless sweater had a large tear in it and was slightly stained with blood, but the cut itself didn’t look too horrible. “I think your clothes took the worst of it, but you should still clean that out,” he said, gently touching the skin around the wound.

She hissed at his touch, “Watch it, that stung.”

“Sorry,” he whispered huskily, and helped her put her jacket back on. “Come on. Your house or mine?” he asked. He had retained the mansion on Crawford Street for his trips back to Sunnydale, or so he told the rest of them. When he was honest with himself, which wasn’t often, he knew that he had retained it because it held too many memories of the happiest times of his life.

Buffy looked around her, gauging the distance between their present location and the two houses. “Yours is technically closer,” she admitted reluctantly, ignoring the fact that her heart had started pounding in her chest the moment he had touched her.

He nodded, somewhat relieved at her answer...and somewhat dismayed. “Let’s go. I told Giles I’d come back to the shop later on to pow-wow some more.”

They walked the few blocks to Angel’s house and upon entering Buffy was hit with a wave of memories. She walked around the main room gingerly, taking it all in.

“What?” Angel asked softly, seeing the look come over her face.

She smiled sadly, “Just remembering. I spent a lot of time here.”

“I remember.” They stood, rooted to the floor, watching each other warily before Angel finally moved away. “I’ll get some bandages. Have a seat.”

The house was cold, but the power was still on, and Buffy remembered that the fireplace was electric. Finding the switch she lit a fire and sat on a slightly dusty couch. Angel returned and sat next to her.

“Take off your jacket,” he said, suddenly realizing how familiar this situation was.

It was obvious that this was as familiar to Buffy as she turned to look at him, her eyes huge. “Deja-vu,” she whispered and removed her jacket slowly.

“Yeah,” he murmured, moving her jacket aside and exposing her torn shoulder. “But drier.”

She laughed softly despite her nerves, then flinched at the antiseptic he applied. “Guess it’s worse than I thought.”

“Nah, really. It’s not bad, not even deep. It’s almost closed…” He trailed off, realizing what he was saying—the same words he had whispered to her the night they first made love. He was so close to her, could hear the blood rushing through her veins, the breath coming more quickly from her lungs. She stiffened at his words, but relaxed at his touch as he gently cleaned her wound, his fingers smoothing the bandage over soft, tanned skin.

“All done,” he announced, clearing his throat, and she quickly rose off the couch and walked across the room, rubbing her arms. A safer distance away, in her mind, she stopped in front of a window and gazed across the sky, watching the moon.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his eyes on her as she moved, feline-like, across the room.

Buffy didn't turn away from the night sky. “Far from it, actually,” she admitted softly.

He rose and approached her slowly. “Buffy…”

She turned and looked at him, her eyes full of sorrow and a trace of fear. Stopping him with a gentle hand to his chest, her eyes dropped to her feet. “We can’t do this,” she said, her voice weak. “For more reasons than just the obvious. You can’t come here to stop Angelus from appearing, just to have us do the one thing we know for sure will bring him out.”

He nodded. “I agree,” he said, sensibly.

“But it’s more than that, Angel. It’s more than not seeing each other for over a year, not talking to each other. It’s more than there being no way to have a real relationship. It’s more than just the fact that I’m lonely…and,” her voice broke, “that you look so good to me…” Tears spilled over her face.

Lonely. It was a feeling he usually only associated with himself. “Why are you lonely?” he asked, taking that all-important step away from her and letting out a deep, unnecessary breath to steady himself.

Buffy's eyes whipped to his. “Why?! I don’t have anyone in my life, Angel. I have no family, no love. It never works for me. I have too many other factors that always have to come first.”

“You have your friends,” he reminded her. “You always felt that with your friends you could do anything. I’ve learned that, learned that from you. Without Cordelia, Gunn and Wesley, I wouldn’t be who I am today. You showed me that friendship is a good thing.”

“And that’s true, but my friends aren’t a lover," she snapped out bluntly. "My friends aren’t romance and companionship. Every time I look for that it runs away because I can’t help it grow. I always have to save the world, to stop the evil, and keep secrets.” She paused, realizing what she said. “Oh my God. Xander was right,” she whispered with a half-crazy chuckle.

“Right about what?”

“He said…that I needed to tell people, boyfriends, about me, about being the Slayer. He said that the people who know have stayed around in my life, except for Riley.”

“And me,” Angel said softly.

Buffy looked up at him with red eyes. “That’s different. Riley was different. He knew, he supported my slaying. He helped me with it. He understood it and wasn’t turned off by it. I mean…I didn’t mean that he was turned on by it, I meant…”

Angel bristled and dismissed her words. “We both still left you.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “It’s different.”

“I know you’ve…dated. You didn’t tell any of them.” It was a statement, not a question. He already knew the answer, had, in fact, met a few of her ex-boyfriends.

“No, I thought that if I didn’t it would be easier on them. It hadn’t worked out with you and Riley when you knew, but…”

“It was different,” he said.

“Yeah, it was.”

“Buffy, you have a hard life. I’m not disputing that. I wasn’t Riley’s biggest fan, but the boy was decent to you, up until the end anyway. I’m sorry it didn’t work with him, or the ones after him. But you can’t base every possible future relationship on us, on Riley and me. You know the reasons behind my leaving. I couldn’t offer you a life, no matter how much I cared for you.”

“Couldn’t? Cared? As in, in the past?” she whispered, turning away from him so he wouldn’t see her cry again.

“Wh-what?” he sputtered. This wasn’t what he had expected her to focus on.

“You’re speaking in the past. You cared for me, not you care for me. You couldn’t offer me a life, not you can’t offer me a life. You’re talking as if since the moment you got here I’m the only one who’s been on the emotional roller coaster. We find out that you’re going to change again, and I’m supposed to just stay calm, when I’m the one who lives with the memory of having to kill you once before? Because what you and I shared was the one thing that could bring out the demon?”

“Now wait a minute there, Buffy, that’s not fair,” Angel began, fighting to control the anger that crept into his tone, “you just said ‘we can’t do this.’ Now you want affirmations that I still have feelings for you?”

Buffy rolled her eyes, ignored him and the voice in her head screaming at her to shut her mouth and stop yelling at him for things that aren't important right now. “And you’re giving me advice on dating? You once told me I was your soul mate, but I guess that’s not working out for you. You’re over it now, is that it?

He cursed. Crossing the room to her, he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. “I don't know where this is all coming from, but fine. You want to hear it all over again? Will it make you feel better to wrench my heart just a little more? Well, here it is. I can’t offer you a life, no matter how much I may care about you,” he growled. “Present tense, care. It doesn’t matter that I can’t ever get you off my mind, no matter how hard I try. It doesn’t matter that everything I do in the hopes that this time, this one demon, will be the kill I need to make to find redemption. That this human I save will be the key to my humanity. It’s all in the hopes that I can finally be worthy of you, but you know what I’ve had the last seven years to figure out? I’m never going to be worthy of you. You’re so far beyond me, I don’t deserve you. That’s why the Powers won’t grant me my freedom. I’m not worthy. I have no choices here. What can I give you? I can’t give you marriage, or children, even picnics in the park on a sunny afternoon. The only thing I can do is make sure that you’re happy, and seeing as how every time we’re together, this seems to be how it ends, with tears and good-byes, you can see why I choose to stay away.”

She stood there, his hands on her shoulders holding her in place, and stared at him in complete shock. His eyes, intense and emotional, didn’t leave her face until she broke contact to slide to the floor. Sobs racked her body and he cursed again as he sat down and comforted the woman of his dreams.

“Buffy, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was out of line. Please, don’t cry,” he said, his hands rubbing her back, a finger lifting her chin up so he could see her face.

“No…no, I’m sorry. Angel that was horrible of me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Ever since that dream last night, God, it was only last night! I’ve been filled with all these feelings, these emotions that I haven’t let out in so long.”

“It was a rough dream…bad memories for all of us,” he said, trying to understand.

She shook her head. “No, there’s more. I haven’t told anyone. Before the vamp attacked me I was walking through a cemetery, patrolling. I studied a crypt that had angels on it, and suddenly I was going through all these old memories, of us, of Riley…”

He stroked her hair, ashamed that he was pleased she dreamed of him. “What memories?” he asked gently.

She blew out a ragged breath, trying to calm herself down. “Of when my mom died, and Dawn, and how you were there for me, through the whole thing. And how you stayed. We would patrol, and it was like old times. Fighting together, as a team. And how one night we were fighting and you saved me from an ambush. We went for a walk after the fight and we held hands. We were doing that a lot again, and I was happy about it, it was comfy,” she admitted, sniffling softly, ashamed to even meet his eyes.

“I remember,” he murmured, stroking her hair.

“That night was the night we came across Riley, when he first came back.”

“I remember that, too,” Angel said, thinking of how pissed off Riley had been to see Buffy there, holding hands with him, and how fun it had been to torment the farm boy.

“I replayed that whole night in my head, I even saw the conversation you and Riley had on my front porch.”

Angel looked surprised. “Did Riley tell you about that?”

“Sort of. But not in as many details as I saw and heard.”

Angel wondered if she had heard his final words to Riley that night.

“I dreamed of how you stayed and how Riley stayed, but eventually you both left again, and then I was alone,” she continued. “And then I got up off the park bench I was sitting on and walked home.”

“And that’s when the vampire attacked you?”

She nodded. “I don’t know why I dreamt that first part. I wanted to believe that it didn’t mean anything, that it wasn’t an important part of the dream. I mean, I don’t think about those things, my mom dying, Dawn, you leaving, Riley leaving. I don’t dwell on them. But ever since I woke up this morning, I’ve been…overcome with these feelings. When I thought you had changed…I was…jealous,” she admitted shamefully. “Jealous that you might have found happiness with someone else. I’m sorry.”

He grinned over the top of her head. “That’s okay,” he said, fighting to keep the joy out of his voice. “Riley and I didn’t exactly become bosom buddies. And that Carter guy, what was that?” he teased. “I mean, the hair line alone should have been a big indicator.”

She giggled and then accidentally snorted, setting them both off laughing. When they calmed down they stood, momentarily collecting their thoughts. “I guess we should go,” she said finally.

He glanced out of the window across the room. “I guess so. But, later, tonight, assuming the end of the world isn’t looming or anything, could we maybe talk some more…about this thing between us?”

She nodded, slowly. “I’d like that.” She put her jacket back on. “Thanks for stitching me up.”

“Sure.”

“And I’m sorry that I became a basket case on you, but…thank you for being so understanding, and…for saying those wonderful things. Even if it can’t be anything, it’s still nice to know. Being loved is always nice.”

“I think you should tell Giles about the other part of your dream. You never know what it might mean,” he said. She nodded and moved to walk past him when he touched her shoulder. She turned and looked at him expectantly. “Buffy…a real relationship? It will happen someday,” he said.

“I know,” she answered him, and walked out of the mansion. But do you mean with you, or with someone else?

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Chapter Five: The Champion and The Chosen