CATEGORY:  Vignette/Heavy-duty Angst/Character Death
SPOILERS:  Through Season 3 of BUFFY.  For ANGEL only the fact that he's in L.A.
DISCLAIMER:  I don't own any of the characters from BTVS or ANGEL.  They're owned by Joss Whedon (who ought to treat them nicer), MutantEnemy, Kuzui, Sandollar, the WB, Fox, etc.
SUMMARY:   The Scooby Gang pays Angel a visit.
NOTES:  I guess I've been reading too many angry and/or character-death fics lately; they've influenced me to write my own.  So blame those authors for this. ;-)  It's set two months after "Graduation Day 1&2".  The lyrics below are from the musical Rent, lyrics and music by Jonathan Larson.

       Angel sat back in his chair, gazing out the window.  The lights of the city twinkled in a dazzling display of colors, but for all he noticed there might as well have been a city-wide blackout.  As usual, his thoughts were back in Sunnydale, with a certain blonde-haired Slayer as their focus.  In the two months since he'd left the town the ache hadn't eased one iota.  Not that he'd expected it to, or even wanted it to.

       No, he embraced the pain willingly, knowing she was enduring the same.  Or worse, since to her pain was added the knowledge that he was the one who had left.  He had told her he didn't want her in his life.  Never mind that she had misinterpreted it to mean that he didn't want to be with her.  He was sure that the subtle difference had escaped her, and maybe that was for the better.  Maybe that would make her angry enough to forget him sooner than she otherwise would.

       It wouldn't be soon.  He had no illusions about her love for him.  If it had survived him losing his soul and becoming evil again, with all that he had done to her and those she cared for, then it was a true love, not just infatuation.  It would take time, but she was young and sooner or later she would find someone else to care for.  A tiny, selfish part of him hoped that it would be later rather than sooner, but the other part of him - the part that loved her deeply and truly - wanted her to be happy and live a normal life.

       And so he sat and brooded every night after Cordelia and Doyle had left.  And he remembered.  He remembered his first sight of her, when she was Called.  She was so young, so unsure and frightened of what had happened to her nice, safe life.  And so very beautiful, not just physically, but in her soul.  It had shone through the shallow facade of her age and environment, drawing him like a beacon.  Even in that first glimpse he'd wanted to shield her from all the evils the world would throw at her, and he'd known that he couldn't, that all he could do was help her battle it and try to protect her back.

       He remembered the first time they kissed, how soft her lips were, and how the sudden rush of emotion he'd thought was lost forever had triggered his transformation.  He remembered the cross he'd given her burning into his flesh as they kissed goodbye at The Bronze.  Their first goodbye.  He remembered the ice rink where they'd fought the Order of Taraka assassin.  A sad smile curved his lips when he thought about how she'd kissed him on his vampiric mouth and told him she hadn't noticed he was in game face.  He wondered if she was thinking about him, and if so were her thoughts sad or bitter or filled with longing, as his were.

       A knock sounded on the office door.  Angel swivelled the chair around but before he could respond the door opened, and three people trooped in.  Xander, Willow, and Giles.  Angel rose, considerably surprised.  He'd never expected a visit from Buffy's closest friends.  He was even more surprised when Giles swung a crossbow from behind his back to point it directly at his chest.

       "Giles, what - "

       Xander reached into the duffel bag he carried and pulled out a second armed crossbow.  He aimed it at Angel, dropping the bag at his feet.  "Sit down."   No witty insults, no elaboration or explanation.  Just the order to sit, delivered in a flat monotone.

       Angel stood his ground.  "What is all this about?"  There was no warning, only the sudden pain of the bolt piercing his right shoulder.  Angel stared at Xander in utter shock.

       "I said sit."  A second bolt was already in place on the bow.  "Unless you want another one in your other shoulder."  The brown eyes trained on him held only icy hatred.

       "I should do as he says if I were you."  Giles' face betrayed the same emotion as Xander's.  His crossbow still pointed at the vampire's chest, but a second weapon had been added: a large wooden cross displayed in his other hand.

       Slowly, Angel sat, pulling the bolt out of his shoulder.  He looked at Willow, who was busily burrowing into a second duffel bag sitting on the floor.  Her hands full of crosses, she glanced up at him.  The burning accusation in her eyes was almost a relief after the chilly contempt of the two men.  "Willow, what's going on?"

       "You'll find out soon enough, you bloodsucking son of a - "

       "Xander, that's enough!"  Giles said sharply.  He turned his cold gaze on Angel.  "So you don't know?  I thought perhaps you would have sensed it . . . " His musing trailed away.

       "Sensed what?"

       By now Willow and Xander had laid a circle of at least a dozen crosses around him, effectively binding him in place.  Willow then began setting up the tools of her craft.  She settled cross-legged in front of a large bowl into which she poured the liquid or semi-liquid contents of several bottles.  She then drew a small bundle of greenish-brown stuff - Herbs? Angel wondered - from the bag and lit one end of them.  Pungent smoke drifted upward, wreathing them, and Willow started chanting.

       Angel started.  She was chanting in the Romany language.  What in the world could she be intending?  Judging by the hatred being displayed toward him, whatever she was attempting wouldn't be to his benefit.  Surely she wouldn't release his demon!  Would she?

       "Willow, what are you doing?  You're not - "

       "Your soul is safe," Giles stated tersely.  "We're not bringing Angelus back."

       Relief wilted Angel back into his chair.  Silently he waited until Willow plunged the smoldering herbs into the bowl of liquid and the ritual was completed.  "Okay, now will somebody please tell me what the hell this is all about?  Giles, what is it you thought I might know?"

       "That Buffy's dead."

       The world tilted crazily.  From a long distance off Angel heard his voice saying, "No."

       "Yes."  That was Xander, looking as if he'd like to kill him.

       Angel shook his head, then couldn't stop shaking it.  "No."  His eyes sought Giles', beseeching.  No; it wasn't possible.

       "Yes," Giles confirmed the unthinkable.  "This morning, just before dawn."

       Pain exploded inside him like a bomb.  Angel surged to his feet, staring desperately at the Watcher.  Tears filled his eyes, overflowed onto his face.  "How?"  He could hardly speak.  How had she died?  How could she have died, and he not known?

       "How do you think?  She was outnumbered, six vampires to one Slayer.  Even Buffy couldn't manage those odds, not in the condition she was in."

       The last part of his statement escaped Angel's notice.  "You were there?  You - saw?"  The words choked him.

       Giles' face was drawn, remembering.  "She was in no shape to patrol, I knew that, but - she insisted on going.  So I went with her to - help.  God help me, I waited to answer the phone.  She started on without me.  When I got to the cemetery I heard her screaming.  She'd left the main path so it took me a couple of minutes to find her.  Four of them were holding her while the other two - " He swallowed, unable to continue.

       "Drained her," Angel finished mechanically.  The room swam around him and he dropped back into his chair, then leaned forward, elbows on his desk.  Buffy was dead.  He knew now that deep inside his heart he'd hoped that there would be a miracle, that someday, somehow they would be together.  But she was dead.  Never again would her eyes light up when they saw him.  Never again would he hold her in his arms, hear her voice, taste her lips.  He buried his face in his hands.  The sound of his sobs filled the room.

       Xander stepped forward.  "Well, isn't this touching?  The person responsible for Buffy's death is mourning her."

       Angel raised his head, gazing blindly at the young man who had always hated him.  "What?"

       Willow got to her feet, a little clumsy with anger, spitting the words at him.  "Why do you think those vamps were able to sneak up on Buffy without her sensing them?  Because of you, Angel!  Because after everything you put her through, and everything she's done for you, you told her you didn't want to be with her.  You turned and walked away, you bastard, and she was never the same Buffy again!"

       "She was a shell of herself," Giles told him.  "Empty.  Uncaring."

       Angel groped for words, fighting the tears that choked his throat.  "She - I - I wanted her to have all the things I couldn't give her.  Sunlight.  Children.  A normal life."

       Giles gave a harsh bark of laughter, bitter and biting.  "Oh, yes.  That normal, happy long life that every Slayer enjoys?"  He leaned toward Angel.  "Slayers don't have normal lives!  You of all people should know that; you've seen enough of them die."

       He stepped back, lowering the crossbow.  "Well, congratulations, Angel.  Because of you Buffy had a normal Slayer's life: a short one."  He nodded to Xander and Willow.  "Let's go.  We're through here."

       Angel sat unseeing as the two younger people picked up Willow's utensils and the crosses, and stowed them away in the duffels.  The trio started to leave.  Xander paused at the door.  "Oh, by the way, Soul Boy."

       It took Angel a second to focus on him.  He didn't say anything, just waited for him to speak.

       "In case you're thinking of doing something like staking yourself or taking a walk in the sunlight - don't bother.  That spell that Willow just cast won't let you deliberately harm yourself."

       "We wanted to make sure you had plenty of time to think about what you did to the girl you claimed to love," Willow added, a malignant smile curling her lips.  "I'm sure that eventually you'll find a way around the geas, but it won't be soon.  Believe me."

       Xander smiled for the first time.  "Yeah.  Might even take years."  They left, closing the door quietly behind them.

       Angel stared into the night.  Frozen.  Remembering.

THE END