He stood in the doorway, silent, unmoving, watching her as she slept. In repose, her face relaxed, the lines of tension fading, the pallor replaced with little bursts of roses. The circles beneath her eyes lightened and her lips curved slightly in a smile. The smile lightened his heart as well as happiness was not a given even though they loved each other.
He watched her stir, then turn onto her back, one hand splayed across her stomach beneath the thin cotton camisole that had slipped up to a spot just beneath her breasts. The other hand formed a fist, and he saw a frown replace the smile on her face. Her eyelids fluttered as she dreamed and he knew what haunted her had found her again.
A name formed on her lips, breathed out in a sad sigh, and it wasn't his, but over the years he'd learned to accept that. And there were times he felt that same sorrow at their mutual loss and he was the one who grieved and was comforted.
Stepping into the room, he walked on silent feet to the bed and settled beside her without disturbing her, the mattress sinking softly as a whisper beneath the weight of his body. As he reached out to touch her shoulder, her hand rose in a blur of movement and slapped his hand aside. Eyes flying open, she rolled from the bed into a fighting stance.
It took a moment for reality to insert itself into her nightmares, and she flushed and rose stiffly even as she dropped her eyes in embarrassment.
"Nightmare?" he asked softly, knowing her answer.
"Sorry," she muttered, brushing distractedly at her eyes and cheeks, expecting there to be tears. Sinking back down onto the bed, they faced each other over its wide expanse.
It was a gulf he refused to allow between them and reached for her, taking her arm and tugging her across the mattress and onto his lap. She didn't fight him, but went willingly, curling her arms around his shoulders and sighing softly against the cool skin of his neck. He always made her feel safe, protected and loved.
She knew there were those in her life who had always seen this relationship as weakening her, making her more submissive to his obvious dominant personality, but she knew that wasn't the case. They were equals in all ways that mattered. If she chose to let him cradle her in his strong arms against his broad chest well didn't she deserve that comfort?
When he'd come back into her life, bringing with him the news of the loss of the other love in her life--one she'd only just known was back before he was gone again--she'd relied on his support to keep her going, needed his love for her to bolster her waning strength and will.
It had seemed inevitable that they would come together again, after so many years separated, but never truly apart. The love had never died, simply lain dormant until she was ready for it.
That he had always been ready was a given, but then he was so much older than her.
The curse was no longer an issue. Too much lay between them to ever allow for that moment of pure happiness, and their physical relationship brought just enough joy to both of them. But it was the love they felt that kept them together through the nightmares and the memories and the losses of other loves. They both knew that they would always have the other.
As he held her, he turned his head, saw her silhouette on the creamy wall, her body slender and seemingly fragile to the touch. There he couldn't see the effect of the nightmares and nightly battles on her face, a face growing older every day as she refused to put aside her duty. He watched the silhouette shift, the head move back, neck arching, and his lips touched the pulse point gently.
While he had no reflection, he did have a shadow and his merged with hers on the wall as their bodies moved together in growing passion.
When her fingernails tore a stripe down his back and her body rocked against his and her mouth opened to a wordless scream of pleasure, he smiled and kissed her with all the love he'd always felt for her, and while she came, she kissed him back, tears of love and desire streaming down her face, making her young and carefree if only for a moment. His own orgasm brought forth the words they both knew bound them together forever.
"I love you, Buffy."
"I love you, too, Angel."
End