At around ten thirty the next morning, Angel slowly began to wake up. Stretching out his tired limbs, he noticed someone lying on top of him. Buffy lay there, sound asleep, with her arms wrapped tightly around his upper body and her head resting comfortably on his chest.

It was a very heartwarming moment for Angel, and he watched silently as she stirred and snuggled closer to him. This was the way that night should have gone so many months ago. He should have been there when she woke up, to reaffirm his feelings for her in case she had any doubts or regrets. He would have promised her his love and his life for as long as she would have him and kept that promise until the day he died.

But instead something terrible had happened and his soul was stripped away in punishment for that one night of true happiness. The demon regained its control over him and was able to subdue his soul, burying it someplace deep inside him where it couldn't be found.

He could still feel it, though. Its voice would whisper things in his mind until he thought he would go crazy.

"Find the slayer. She loves you." And finally, "You love her."

He tried distracting himself by going after Drusilla, but nothing could keep his mind off her. She was the one he really wanted.

"You love her."

Those words repeated through his mind hundreds of times a night. Every time he went out for a kill, he prayed to meet her and make her his.

She was a challenge. Pretending to hate her was difficult but not impossible, and every time she got in the way of his plans, he dealt with her accordingly. Taunting her, trying to provoke her into doing something stupid or insane.

But she was too strong to be broken. She was stronger than he was. The fact that she didn't kill him when she had the opportunity to over and over again proved she still loved him, and he used that to his advantage whenever he could, toying with her mind until it seemed useless to keep fighting. But she never gave up, and in the end, good triumphed over evil yet once again.

Angel gently untangled himself from Buffy's grasp, careful not to wake her, and stood up, stretching his tired limbs. He felt like hell. He had been in bed for God knew how many days and not done a thing but sleep. He was ready to get out.

But it was morning and he wouldn't leave Buffy. Not again. She promised to be here for him throughout all of this, and he would do the same for her. So he did the next best thing and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

A soft click could be heard as the bathroom door closed and Angel stepped out, drying his hair with a towel. He went over to the armoire to grab a shirt, he was only wearing a pair of black slacks and his cross, and she sighed with relief when she saw him.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, the concern evident on his face. He had only slipped the shirt over his shoulders when he heard her, and everything else ceased to matter but what was wrong.

"No. I'm fine," she assured him, smiling as she looked up at him. His dark hair was still damp and mussed, sticking out in points everywhere, and his shirt hung open revealing his sculpted chest with the tiny gold cross charm hanging in the middle. "So you look like you're feeling better, huh?"

"Definitely," he said, buttoning the shirt up all the way except for the first few. Adjusting the collar, he sat down beside her.

"Hmm..." Placing the back of her hand against his forehead, Buffy checked his temperature. Everything seemed normal. His skin wasn't as cool as always, but it was a lot better than the night before and she was sure things would continue to improve. "Well, everything seems fine. I guess you're cured."

She smiled and he smiled back at her. It was finally over. She didn't have to worry about him dying anymore. Now all she had to think about was if he would live.

"Angel-"

"No, Buffy, wait. Before you say anything, just let me thank you for everything that you did for me. You saved my life, and, although I may not have deserved it, I really appreciate it."

"No, Angel, you deserved it," she told him in all seriousness. "You've saved my life more than a couple times. It was the least that I could do."

He nodded and looked down at the red blanket covering the bed. She felt she owed it to him to save him. Did that mean she didn't love him? She was still wearing his ring...

Taking a deep breath, Buffy began to speak again. "Angel, I need to talk to you. It's about something really important so you need to listen."

"Buffy," he said, not wanting to go into that topic again, "I understand that things can't be the same between us and that you want us to be friends. I respect your decision."

"No, Angel. It's not that." She sighed. "I'm not sure how exactly to explain this. Giles brought Willow and Xander over last night, remember?" He nodded. "Yeah. Well, anyway, after you and I went to sleep, they went to check on you, and you were breathing." He looked at her like he didn't quite understand and she tried to elaborate.

"Angel, we think you might be alive."