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By Lorelei

Disclaimer: All characters pertaining to the show Buffy the Vampire slayer are owned by Joss Whedon, the WB, Mutant Enemy, Fox et. all.  No copyright infringement is intended.  No profit is being made

The song “She’s So High” is Tal Bachman’s, and brackets denote it. Spoilers for G2.

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~~ In the mansion ~~

The pain coursed through his body.  It felt as if he were being eaten
alive from the inside out.  With some effort, Angel opened his eyes and
saw her.  Willow’s face had a look of caring and concern that tugged at
his heart.

[She’s blood, flesh and bone
No tucks or silicone
She’s touch, smell, sight, taste and sound

But somehow I can’t believe that anything should happen.
I know where I belong and nothing’s gonna happen]

“You’re awake.”  Her voice was soft and full of hope when Willow spoke.

“You… you’ve been watching over me?”  Angel managed to gasp out the
words.  Taking her hand, he kissed it softly.

“Well, we’ve been taking turns.”

“I thought… I thought I’d never see you again.  I… I can’t leave you.
I was wrong.  I need you.”  He paused.

Seeming understanding crossed her face.

“Oh.” Willow took her hand from his. “You mean you need Buffy.”

Angel peered at her, wanting to tell her she was wrong, that it was her
he needed.

“Willow?” He began.

“Yes. Right. Willow.”

“Where is she?”

“She’ll be back soon.”  Willow rested her hand on his chest and he
caressed her arm as he lay back.

Soon, she’d said.  Surely there wasn’t enough time to tell her what he
felt, what he been feeling for several months.  He thought at first it
was gratitude, but had come to realise that it was much more than that.
It wouldn’t be right.  He couldn’t make a death bed confession of his
love for her. Willow wouldn’t understand.  How could she, when he
couldn’t explain it himself?  He loved Buffy, heart and soul. But there
was a part of him that longed for and needed Willow in a way he
couldn’t begin to define.  No, his feelings for her would go with him
to his grave. She deserved peace of mind.

[‘Cause she’s so high
High above me, she’s so lovely
She’s so high, like Cleopatra, Joan of Arc or Aphrodite
She’s so high, high above me]

~~ After the ascension ~~

Angel had his moment with Buffy.  Now, he stood lurking in the shadows
taking them all in one last time.  Oz, Cordelia, Xander… Buffy… he’d
miss them all.  His eyes scanned over to Willow.  Willow…he regretted
leaving her most of all.  It was a bittersweet moment for him.  He’d
left so much unsaid, even though he’d done the right thing. He was sure
of that.  Willow had Oz, a bright future, and friends who cared for
her.  She didn’t need a confused vampire that was unsure of his
feelings, who couldn’t touch her in the way he longed for.  As the
group turned and walked away, Angel’s eyes began to sting and his gut

He whispered softly, “Goodbye, Willow.”

[First class and fancy free
She’s high society
She’s got the best of everything

What could a guy like me ever really offer?
She’s perfect as she can be, why should I even bother?

‘Cause she’s so high
High above me, she’s so lovely
She’s so high, like Cleopatra, Joan of Arc or Aphrodite
She’s so high, high above me.]

~~ Los Angeles ~~

Angel didn’t know why he’d done it.  He’d found it in a pawnshop and
bought it.  The ring was simple elegance and reminded him of Willow; a
gold band with an intricate design, four small diamonds set in on
either side of the emerald stone in the center.  He’d had the inside of
the ring engraved, not with words, but with an infinity symbol.  Angel
wondered if she’d know what it was or if that she’d think it was an
eight lying on its side.  It eased his mind.  He was finally able to
express himself without actually foisting his confused emotions on her.

He sent it without a note or card.  It wasn’t until later that he
realised that she might know who sent it by the LA postmark.  But two
month’s had passed and there hadn’t been a word from her or anyone
else.  Not until the phone had rang on a hazy Saturday afternoon.


Willow’s hesitant voice came across the line, “Hello, Angel.  It…it’s

Angel’s mind raced, trying to come up with an explanation for the ring,
in case that was what she was calling about. He decided to buy time
with small talk.

“Willow. It’s good to hear from you! How have you been? How is

“Oh, they’re good.  Everything’s good.”

“Everything is good here, too, Willow.”  Angel tried to keep his tone
light, even though he was dying to add, “But it would be better if I
could make you understand that I need you.”

Willow spoke again, “Angel, I have to ask you something.”

Angel’s stomach lurched. “Go ahead.”

“Well, I…I don’t want to be a pest, but I don’t know anyone in LA, not
a single soul, Angel. No one but you.”

“Willow…” Angel’s voice was filled with apprehension.

Willow jumped in before he could say anything else.

“See, I’ve got a seminar at UCLA next weekend and I thought maybe you
could…we could…”

“Willow, I’d love to have…to see you.”

Willow sighed, “Good. I really want to see you, too.  We’ve got a lot
we should…could talk about.  I’ll see you next Friday night, okay?

Angel gave Willow his address, then hung up the phone wondering how
much to read into the conversation.  He couldn’t be sure, but a part of
him hoped that she knew how he felt.

[She calls to speak to me
I freeze immediately
‘Cause what she says sounds so unreal

‘Cause somehow I can’t believe
That anything should happen
I know where I belong
And nothing’s gonna happen

‘Cause she’s so high
High above me, she’s so lovely
She’s so high, like Cleopatra, Joan of Arc or Aphrodite
She’s so high, high above me]

~~ Friday night ~~

The knock on the door set Angel in motion.  He lunged for the door and
flung it open, staring at Willow.  She smiled and smoothed her hair
behind her ears.  Angel’s eyes were drawn to the glint of gold and
green on her finger.  That one look told Willow all she’d suspected was

“Angel.  I think maybe you’ve had something you’ve wanted to talk to me
about for awhile.”

Standing to one side, Angel let Willow into his new apartment for the
first time, silently hoping that it wouldn’t be the last.



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