You Are the One

by Jill

Disclaimer: nope, don't own them; the title is a song by Mike & The Mechanics, so it's not mine too.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: B/A - duuuh!
Category: Angst, Romance
Distribution: my site, ACS-Fanfictionrealm, Land of Denial, if you have any of my stories, take it; anybody else please tell me where it goes
Spoilers: The whole B/A-cannon; the two previous stories in the series called "Without You" and "One in a Million".
Summary: even unexpected things happen
Timeline: four weeks after "One in a Million"
Feedback: oh yeah
Dedication: to Angel and Buffy ... let's never lose hope!

It's one of these days. I had a headache waking up, Aileen was grumpy because her favourite cereal had run out, she insisted the milk wasn't right, my favourite shirt was still in the washing machine because I'd fogotten to put it into the dryer and on top of all this Willow and Oz were making googely eyes at each other over breakfast.

God, I hate these days! All I want is to turn around and slide back under the covers of my bed, but of course it isn't possible. So I just sigh inwardly, chew my bread, sip from my coffee and try to pretend this isn't my life. I'm somewhere on a sunny island, Angel and I alone, he's making tender love to me and I feel completely and utterly happy.

"You're drooling."

Willow's voice, containing a suppressed giggle, interrupts my thoughts.

I scowl at her, "Am not."

"Mommy?," Aileen looks at me with wide, curious eyes. She's not even three but can sense my emotions so easily.

"Everything is fine, honey," I tell her and with a sweet smile on her face she eats the muffin Oz produced to mollify her temper.

I turn my head and look at my best friend with a stern look, "I am not drooling."

"If you say so," she grins and exchanges a look with Oz.

I shoot her a nasty glance, then take another bite of my bread. I like living with Oz and Willow. It's good to be near them. Two years ago when Oz came back we decided to buy this house at the beach. Giles and Xander are regular visitors as is Cordelia and her new husband Gunn. My former watcher and my long-time friend think I'm pathetic still dreaming about Angel. I don't know about Cordy's feelings exactly, I know she deeply cared for her former boss, but she's too rational, too matter-of-factly to believe in miracles.

But I think deep inside she understands why I can't give up on him. There was never a body, I never saw him actually dying and even if I had ... I mean, I saw him dying before, saw him sucked into hell and still he came back to me. And didn't Giles tell me it was impossible to return from a demon dimension and even if one would be like an animal? So in a twisted sort of way the fact that Giles and Xander think I'm crazy - although they wouldn't say it aloud - gives me comfort.

They can't understand that I need to believe in him being somewhere. From time to time I catch myself talking to him and it feels so good, it feels so right. Aileen once even said it was a pretty smile on my face - she caught me thinking of him. Even now I have to smile at that thought.

"Look she's going to drool again," I hear Willow whisper and narrow my eyes at her. She giggles seeing me doing so. "It's your Angel-face," she says matter-of-factly and I have to smile at the honest compassion in her eyes and in her voice. Oz just nods. He talks more than before but his face still wears this incredibly impassive expression. He sometimes smiles and I just realise that Willow probably understands me best because she understands what it means. Didn't she once say she was also in love with a taciturn man?

"Yeah, well," I reply and grin too, "I can't help it. Anyway. Will you be okay with watching Aileen again?," I ask.

"Sure," she answers. "You know I love to have her around. Don't worry about us. And Oz is here as well," she reminds me. Of course the former werewolf will be there. He works for one of big software companies, but has his office at home. Ever since the hellmouth is closed we all live normal lives. I work as a therapist with disabled children. Who would've thought?

"Alright then," I stand up, bent down and kiss my daughter, "I'm going, have a nice day my sweet."

"Bye mommy," she smiles and waves her little hand.

"I'll be back around late afternoon."

"Hi Buffy," Ellen, my collegue at the therapy center greets me. "There's a new boy for you. His name is Mike. His father brought him this morning."

"What about him?," I ask, deposing my bag in my locker.

"He's not really disabled, just a little slow, but his mother died recently and the father is concerned that the grief of losing his mother could be difficult for him."

"I see," I nod. "Where is he?"

"They are both waiting for you in the office. The father wants to talk to you first. His name is Jones by the way."

I give Ellen a short smile, then with a sigh walk to our private office both of us use for these kinds of interviews. I open the door and plaster a smile on my face, the same moment the father of the child stands up and turn towards me.

I'm glad the door-handle is still in my hand because it's all I can do not to faint here and now. White flashes pass before my eyes, stars, black spots. I'm warm and cold at the same time and I have problems to breathe properly.

"Miss, are you alright?," I hear his concerned voice reach my ears and his hand suddenly touches my arm.

It's as if lighting rushes through me, as if he's burned my skin with his fingers. I blink twice and then slowly my eyes focus on the face that's hoovering above me. "Angel," I whisper.

"Angel? No sorry," he smiles, the concern still visible in his eyes. "This is still earth. I'm just a man."

I have to shake my head and take a deep breath, "Don't you know me?," I ask. "I'm Buffy."

"Nice name," he replies with a loopsided grin. God, I almost pass out again. This is so familiar, this twitch of his lips, the way he cocks his head at me. Only his eyes are different. They sparkle, there's a hint of mischief in them, humor, even laughter. There's also a trace of pain, but it's a human pain, not that overwhelming, eternal pain I used to see there. "Did you think you know me from somewhere?," he asks and smiles again. "Not likely. Believe me, if I'd met you I would remember." The last sentence is spoken with a wink.

"You ...," I have to clear my throat, my tongue almost unable to form words. Is that really Angel flirting with me? Yes, my mind whispers, this is Angel standing right in front of me. He might have different eyes, he might not remember me, but I just know. He has a tan now, he is older, but it's him. Oh God! Oh God! I close my eyes for a moment and force my breathing to slow down, hoping my heart will follow the example. At the moment it's beating frantically at my ribcage.

"Maybe you should sit down, you are awfully pale," his gentle voice interrupts my thoughts. Even his voice is the same, and I shudder at the sensation washing over me. Then the real joke of his words hits me. Angel, the same person who was a vampire for 250 years, is concerned because I look pale. Talk about weird things.

"Did you ...," I have to clear my throat again, "did you ever suffer from a memory loss?," I want to know.

"No," he shakes his head and smiles.

"Josh?"

My head snapps around and I look into the eyes of a teenage boy who is sitting across the table.

"This is Andrew," Angel/Josh explains, "he's my stepson. He is the reason I came this morning. His mother died four months ago."

"I see," I reply and feel bad for ignoring the boy in the first place. "Hi Andrew, I'm Buffy."

He smiles shyly, "Hi."

"Why did you ask me about a memory loss?," his step-father wants to know.

"I ...," God, I just hope I can get through this. "You look like someone I once knew."

"Someone important?"

"Yes," I nod. "He was ... my life. He is supposed to be dead."

"Supposed to be?," he asks, sitting down beside Andrew.

"I never saw a body ... it happened during ...," I stop and look at him, uncertain what to say. After the hellmouth was closed, after we stopped the Armageddon, the world, even Sunnydale, looked as if nothing had happened. I'm not sure how mouch people remember about the things that happened at all. "I just heard he died," I finally telly him.

I see his gaze still resting on me. This is Angel, I'm sure, but why doesn't he remember me? Why does he tell me there hasn't been a memory loss? What happened to him? Okay, so he looks slightly different and if Giles and Xander were here they would think I'm gone crazy again, but nothing in my life ever felt so right. I am absoultely sure it is him. I can feel it, my heart does flip-flops, I feel butterflies in my stomach and I'm glad I'm sitting now because my knees are like jelly.

"I'm sorry," I hear him say.

"Me too," I reply. He looks at me with puzzlement in his eyes and I quickly add, "About your wife," I quickly lie. How can I explain that I'm sad because he doesn't remember me.

"Oh," he nods, "it wasn't ...," he clears his throat, "She died of cancer. When I married her she already knew she was dying. It was to take care of Andrew," he explains. "To make it easier to adopt him, you know. We were just good friends. But of course I miss her." I see a frown appear on his forehead as if he tries to get a hold on something, then the smile is back on his lips.

I'm a loss of words. The whole impact of the situation just hits me. I'm sitting in the same room with Angel.

Human Angel - obviously.

He doesn't know one thing about his past. He doesn't know me. The only thing I know for certain is that I cannot let him go again. He is alive and this is our chance, even without his memories. Maybe it's a blessing that he doesn't know. I always thought it unfair that Angel had to carry the memories of his demon. Maybe it was a trick of the PTB, maybe it was his reward.

Cordelia told me weeks after the battle was over about his Shansu-prophecy. Could it be...?

He had to leave for his work and so I was left with Andrew and my thoughts. And believe me, they were running, no racing, in my head. I wanted to call someone, talk to someone, but I was afraid they would call a shrink because they'd thought I was finally gone over the edge.

I looked at my watch every five minutes, anxiously awaiting his return, desperately needing to see him, to make certain this wasn't just a dream. The moment he entered the building I knew. I might not be a slayer anymore, but Angel still awakens all my senses.

He smiles at me and I'm lost. "Hi," he greets and crouches down beside me and Andrew. "How did it go partner?," he asks his step-son.

"Good," the boy nods. He is not really disabled, just - as Ellen said - a bit slow.

"What do you think," Angel turns towards me. No, Josh, I got to remember that. "Is it necessary to bring him back tomorrow?"

"I...," I clear my throat, "if you'd like."

"I would," his smile is brilliant now and his eyes lock with mine. "I would like that very much."

On to On Silent Wings