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Coffee

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I.

The first night he came to her it was raining. The night was warm and sticky. When Buffy opened the door she felt a warm breeze and the small prickles of the rain splashing off the pavement of her entryway. She couldn’t see very well at first but then she saw his towering figure. His hunched shoulders. And knew it was him.

He didn’t say anything but he didn’t have to. Buffy could see the pain in his eyes. It was grief. After nearly a decade as a slayer, she knew that pain well. She stepped out into the rain and towards him. She placed her hand on his heart. A heartbeat. She felt his breath. But she wasn’t surprised. He had told her long ago about this prophecy and she had felt it was an inevitability ever since.

Then they met with a kiss. And in that kiss, Buffy could vividly taste all of his sorrow. And she allowed herself a moment to grieve alongside him. For all of those, they had lost. For all of those, they had failed. But she wanted more, the kiss was not enough this time. Not after all they had been through. Not after all, they were sure to face. She broke away and lead him inside.

She made love to him that night. His body was warm and wet from the night. He touched and tasted every inch of her. He was gentle in his love-making. As if this was the last thing he had left in his life and he wanted to be careful not to break it.

After they made love, he cried. “I’m sorry.” He said as he held Buffy tightly. Tears spilling into her hair. “I’m so sorry, Buffy.”

Buffy shushed him. She held him tightly until sleep came. When she woke up he was gone.

II.

He came to her again when it was raining. It was a cold rainy night. She was coming home from an out night with friends.

“You look nice.” He said from behind her as she was fumbling with her keys. She startled a bit and then relaxed when she realized it was him. He smelled of alcohol. His hair was a bit disheveled and he looked like he needed a shave. Still, she couldn’t help to notice the way his human body suited him. He had a leather jacket over a white v-neck shirt. He was wearing blue jeans. She tried to remember a time she had seen him wearing blue jeans, but couldn’t. He leaned into her. “You smell nice too.”

“You smell like a bottle of my dad’s favorite whiskey.” Buffy retorted but she didn’t move an inch away from his body as it pressed hers against the door. She was soaking wet at this point. She didn't care.

Angel shrugged and gave a little smirk. “Is that a problem, ma’am?” He didn’t let her answer before he leaned in and kissed her. She dropped her purse and kissed him back. He unbuttoned her pants and pushed his fingers into her panties. He felt her wetness and he groaned. She moaned back. The need for him was urgent. She pushed him away and kicked her door in. Xander could fix it later. Then she grabbed him by the jacket closing the broken door behind them.

She fucked him that night. It was different from every other night they had been together. It was all desire. Raw. They never stopped for a moment to think. They simply allowed themselves to finally have what they had both wanted for years. Her body had never felt more alive.

When they were done, he lay behind her and held her tightly. He whispered in her ear, “I always want you, Buffy. But -” He sighed. He didn’t finish and she didn’t ask.

When she woke up the next day he was gone.

III.

It was a fresh spring evening when she came home from her yoga class. One of the new little luxuries she allowed herself these days. Now that she had hundreds of girls to help carry the load. She walked up to her door and saw him sitting on the doorstep. He had blue jeans, again. But this time he wore a fitted grey t-shirt. He was clean-shaven and his hair was back to form, if a little longer. She was sure she had dreamed this once, him sitting out in the sunset waiting for her to come home.

When he saw her approach he got up and put his hands in his pockets. He smiled as she approached. “Hey.” He said a bit tentatively.

“Hey, yourself.” She said back. She muddled through her purse for her keys, then opened the door and nodded for him to follow her inside.

He didn’t follow. “Well I was kinda hoping, you know if you were free - some time - and it doesn’t have to be tonight but -,” he shifted his weight a little “maybe we could get coffee or something.”

Buffy realized he was nervous and smiled. She leaned against the doorway. “Coffee?”

“Or something…” Angel replied and inched closer to her.

Buffy sighed. “Are you sure you are ready for coffee?”

Angel cupped his hand on her cheek and caressed her face. “I am. I’m sorry. About everything. I was unfair to you and if you don’t want - coffee or cookies or whatever analogy we happen to be using - I’ll go. But if you do. I’m here.”

There was some part of her that was scared if she let him in - if she truly let him in, that they would have to leave each other again. And she wasn’t sure she could survive the loss of him again. “For how long?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Starbucks is right down the street and they are pretty quick. Maybe an hour or -”

She hit his stomach.

“Ow. Human now. Remember?” He smirked. Then he leaned in even closer so that his face was right near her lips. “How’s forever? Does forever work for you?”

She smiled and pulled him inside.

She made love to him that night. And there was no sadness. It was pure happiness with no curse. And when he held her in his arms that night he whispered in her ear. “I love you, Buffy. Always.”

When she woke up the next morning he had made her coffee.