*****

He wept.

He sat on the grass, under sunshine he felt on his face but not in his heart, sobs caught in his chest, making his large frame shudder; slower now, easing as he'd catch his breath, the tears still rolling down his face. He never bothered to wipe them away. Tears were memories, and he wanted each one to last as long as possible. His fingertip traced the letters over and over, smooth indentations in the hard white marble surface. At first he had followed the entire legend, but now he caressed only her first name and the last part of her epitaph, "A Lot." As he would lay his hand flush against the headstone, his palm smoothing over it as he moved back up to her name, he would repeat the litany in his mind: "I loved you," - and his fingers would spell out her name, B-U-F-F-Y, then quickly move down to A-L-O-T.

He wept.

He had returned to Sunnydale after a six month absence to see her. To say goodbye to her. That's what he'd thought he was going to do. He had had time to think, to get over her; and he *had* gotten over her, but the way he'd left before, there was something lingering. Something he had to take care of. He needed closure before he could move on fully. That's what he'd told himself. And he'd believed it. But when he'd returned, and Xander had told him, had shown him her gravesite - then he'd known how much he loved her, still loved her, and Riley had wept.

He wept still.

Day after day, he came to her grave, knelt by it, rubbed his finger raw on the headstone. Stayed all day long, but only during the day. Because the first day, he had felt a shadow fall over him at dusk, and he had looked up at the other one looming above him. They had regarded each other, one standing, one kneeling, for a silent moment before the other one had said, "She never loved you." Riley knew he only spoke out of pain this time, an unbearable pain that he could only share by hurting someone else. Riley was already in pain, too, and somehow this extra bit helped him. "I know," he had replied. And he had relinquished his post to the other.

So Riley wept during the day, and Angel wept at night.

They didn't speak to each other again. They passed by each other every dusk, every dawn. At times Riley envied Angel, for he had uninterrupted time with her at night. And at times Angel envied Riley, for occasionally her friends would come by during the day and offer comfort. No one fully understood it, what the two of them were doing; but that didn't matter to either one of them.

They wept, separately, and neither found solace.

One dusk, a week or so after their shared vigil had begun, Angel didn't come. With the sun gone from the sky, the moon risen in its place illuminating, Riley had continued to trace the headstone. As he finished a pass and laid his hand flat to smooth over the surface, he thought, ~He loved you,~ and traced her name as his fingers reached the grooves, then back down familiarly to "A Lot." He continued this litany, and in the eerie stillness of the night began to murmur aloud, "Angel loved you, Buffy, a lot; and you loved him."

"It wasn't just me."

The low voice caused Riley to jump, and he lost the rhythm of his litany. Oddly unembarrassed, Riley curled his hand against himself as he got to his feet to relinquish his position. "I know," he said. "She loved the whole world." His words came out ragged, caught on the sudden sob he had to swallow.

Angel moved to him, looking into Riley's eyes as if seeing him for the first time. "The whole world," Angel acknowledged, his own voice slightly frayed, "and me." He paused, resting his hand on Riley's, which was curled against his chest. Angel covered Riley's hand and heart with his own. "And you." Then he took his hand off of Riley's and gently cupped the back of his neck.

When Angel's lips met his, Riley shivered. He dropped the hand between them to his side, then his arms came up around Angel, moving into him, moving into the kiss open-mouthed. He shivered again. The tongue gliding over his was so cool, so soothing in that very coldness and softness. Again he shivered and pulled Angel to him in this embrace, parting his legs to bring Angel closer-than-flush, their bodies entwined, seeking to provide any comfort he could with his warmth.

They stayed that way even when the kiss ended, warm and cool tears intermingling on cheeks resting against each other. They stayed that way for long stretches of the night, now holding each other, now nuzzling, now kissing. And each time their mouths came together, she was there with them somehow.

Before the first golden glow of the sun streaked the sky, Angel murmured his name and Riley whispered back, "I know." They moved apart and looked at each other for another wordless moment before going their separate ways.

Riley wept no more in the cemetery by day; Angel wept no more in the cemetery by night.

The tears would go on for days; the tears would persist whenever either one thought of her for years to come.

The tears would continue, but the time for weeping was past.

THE END