Hopelessly Devoted

Rating: PG

Spoilers:

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss Whedon and the song and title are from Grease, the musical.

Distribution:Ask and thou shalt receive. And please do ask.

It was a hot afternoon, a perfect summers' day. A day for Summers, in fact, as Riley always says. The radio was on, blasting out through the open window old cheesy tunes, and we were in the garden having a water fight. Sometimes you need to escape from being a responsible adult, and fighting kind of comes naturally to both of us. He armed with the hose, me with a giant water pistol (a water rifle, I guess), we chased each other around the garden screaming at the top of our voices.

"It's raining men!" sang the radio, and I ran after Riley, my finger on the trigger of the water gun. And cannoned into him, as he stood still, the hose running into a puddle. I looked past, to see what had brought him up short, and froze.

I knew I had to be dreaming, because the sun was so bright, giving slight reddish highlights to his hair, and he was still there. He hadn't turned into dust. But at the same time I could feel my wet clothes clinging to me, the leak on the water pistol was dripping steady drops on to my bare foot. And Riley, Riley was there too.

I moved forward to stand next to him and kept staring. All three of us were stock-still, and finally Riley dropped the hose and put his arm around my shoulders, protective, possessive.

"A surprise," he said, none of that laughter in his voice I love so much.

"I haven't come to talk to you," our visitor replied, and his voice was the same as ever, the posture identical, those eyes meeting mine. "I've come to talk to Buffy."

"Angel?" I said, still confused, still not understanding why - how - he was standing there in the sunshine. Riley turned to me, fists balled up, his face hard and unkind.

"I forbid you to talk to that . that thing!" he hissed.

I swallowed, and looked back at Angel in the light.

"Seven years," I said. "Seven years since I sent you the Gem of Amara, and only now you bother to turn up to say thanks?"

Without speaking, Angel held his hands out, and the only ornament I saw was his claddagh ring on the left hand. Something inside me turned over and upside down, and my suddenly slippery fingers let go of the water pistol.

"I destroyed the Gem of Amara a day after you sent it," he said, his voice almost a whisper.

"I'm dreaming," I told myself aloud, knowing it was the only answer. "I have to be dreaming. Riley, tell me you're in my dream."

"I wish I was," Riley said harshly.

"You're not dreaming." Angel cut into our exchange suddenly. "You're not dreaming. This . this is real." He took a hesitant step forwards. "Buffy, I'm . I'm alive." Alive. The words hung in the air, tantalising, enticing, unbelievable. "I'm alive," Angel repeated, as to convince himself.

I shrugged off Riley's restraining hand, and moved slowly forwards to meet him, and he took my hand and placed it on his chest, where the gentle, regular, unfamiliar feeling of a heart beating ran into my fingers. The hand that clasped mine was warm and strong, but naturally strong to fit its size - not the cold vice belonging to a vampire, and as I glanced up into his face I saw colour in his cheeks and his lips. His eyes gazed down at mine, and they too were different. They held a glint of hope. Hope I knew I was going to have to break, and it cut me up thinking of that. I let go of his hand and stepped back, and already the glint was fading. Like he was reading my mind, or my heart. He always could do that; he always knew me better than I knew myself. I glanced back to Riley, and then to Angel again.

"Angel," I said, trying to keep calm, "this is . it's wonderful. I know it's what you wanted, you deserve it, more than anyone else. I'm happy you came to tell me. but if you were hoping for more, from me, now, you've been ." I took a deep breath. "I'm with Riley now. Seven years isn't something small. All this time, I didn't know if you were dead . or alive." My words seemed confused. I wondered if I was actually making sense. "I love Riley." That was true. "You'll always have a place in my heart, but not that place, not any more. You're human now. You can move on too."

He swallowed, and looked down at his hands twisted together, a silver circlet on one finger.

"Move on? Perhaps. But I doubt it, Buffy. Listen to that song."

I listened, and now from the open window came the sickly sweet strains drifting out over our heads, "I'm hopelessly devoted to you."

"I am," Angel said. "Devoted. To you. I wanted to be alive, yes, but I wanted it because it gave me a chance to be with you. You're the only person I've ever loved and the only one I ever will. You know that." He held my gaze for a moment. "Goodbye, Buffy." He turned, his head bowed, and with his hands in the pockets of his jeans walked off into the sunshine, and I realised the wetness on my face was not just my hair dripping. I pushed Riley's hand off my shoulder and watched Angel walk away, and the song rang in my ears. The day had stopped being perfect, and I wondered if the same just went for my life too.

Guess mine is not the first heart broken,

My eyes are not the first to cry.

I'm not the first to know

There's just no getting over you.

I know I'm just a fool who's willin'

To sit around and wait for you.

But, baby, can't you see

There's nothing else for me to do?

I'm hopelessly devoted to you.

But now there's nowhere to hide,

Since you pushed my love aside.

I'm out of my head,

Hopelessly devoted to you,

Hopelessly devoted to you.

My head is sayin', "Fool, forget him."

My heart is sayin', "Don't let go.

Hold on to the end."

And that's what I intend to do.