The house was perfect, Buffy thought, in every way.

From the classic Greek architecture outside to the open spaced rooms inside. Naturally there were several dozen things that needed to be done; the wall dividing the back room, for instance, definitely needed to be removed. She just couldn’t understand how anyone could survive in such a cramped space.

And the grounds needed serious cleaning, but that would have to wait until spring. She was sure that there was a wealth of flowers suffocating under the overgrown brush just waiting to be discovered. The veranda needed work, the long wooden porch circled the house, but there were patches that looked completely rotted through; that, too, was for the spring.

No, her immediate concern was moving in, cleaning up, re-doing the rooms she most wanted to, and settling down. Not necessarily in that order.

Buffy looked around once more, assessing her first project, where she’d put that lovely Queen Anne end table that didn’t match the Louis XVI love seat but she loved them both anyway. Antiques were her passion but her passion didn’t include any one period. She was more the buy-what-I-like person.

The antique dealers loved her.

No, first was the master bedroom. She had to have a place to sleep, after all. Looking up the grand staircase that was the focus of the foyer, Buffy rearranged her schedule, putting her bedroom at the top of the list. Then the kitchen, just because she didn’t cook all that often didn’t mean there wasn’t a need for it to be in top shape. Then the living room, or maybe that first; she’d love to have at least one fire in the marble fireplace before it was too warm for that.

Then there was the family room, the east salon, the dining room, the…every other room in the place. Okay, so there was a lot to do. But she had time, there was no rush, it was only her after all. And she had money and patience (sometimes) and a strong vision of what she wanted to accomplish with her house.

Her house. It was all hers. Not her parents or her grandmother’s, or even her uncle’s. No this was all hers. And she was determined to make it so.

Buffy was a small woman, barely topping 5’2" her long blonde hair reached her waist and no matter how often she wanted to cut it she just couldn’t bring herself to do so. Her eyes, a changeable green, were currently the color of pure jade, deep and soft as she looked over her new purchase with a fierce sense of pride.

Not that she really listened to what anyone thought anyway, but everyone from her best friend to her lover thought that this was a ridiculous purchase; too big for one woman, in need of too much work, certainly too expensive, and did you see the acreage that needed tending?

The only person who was fully, 100% behind her was her Uncle Giles. He always said that if you believed in something enough, wanted something enough, then you should go for it and to hell with what anyone else thought you should do. Unfortunately he was currently in England with Buffy’s sister, Faith, promoting his latest murder/mystery novel and not here at that particular moment to lend her his support.

"When are you planning on moving in?"

Buffy turned to the voice, an automatic smile on her face. Regrettably the smile was more out of reflex than any real desire to see her lover. It wasn’t that she didn’t care for him, she did, and maybe even loved him, but not in the eternal forever kind of way she had always dreamt of.

She had read one too many romance books, seen one too many Cary Grant movies.

But she walked into his arms anyway, pressing a kiss to his lips as he bent his much larger frame over hers. Yes, pleasant was the word. Not that she had ever experienced the heated rush described in romance books and such, but Buffy always thought that it should be present with the man you loved and it just wasn’t…at least not with her.

"Hmm, I thought you weren’t going to stop by until later." She pulled away with a smile and looked once again at the foyer she had been standing in.

"It is later, Buffy." Riley Finn laughed as he said that, well accustomed to her; she often lost track of time and other things when she was involved in a new project. And while he may consider this nothing more than a new and pleasant diversion for her energy, he wasn’t entirely sure it was…right for her.

"It is?" She glanced at her watch as she asked. "Wow, don’t know where I’ve been the last few hours." But she did, she had been caught up in her new house, walking again and again through the rooms, once so grand now nothing more than a shell of their former selves.

Riley was the All-American man, tall: well-built, good-looking, kind, hard working. He laughed and played with as much intensity as he worked. It was a shame, Buffy thought again as he leaned over her to kiss her once more, that she couldn’t fall in love with him. Turning back to the boxes he had brought in with him Riley smiled again, "Not to worry, I brought food."

Buffy, somewhat reluctantly but with a sincere smile, turned her attention to the man who was without a doubt in love with her, and smiled at the containers of Chinese he pulled out.

And missed the shimmer of silver light that appeared at the base of the stairs.
~~~~~~~~
The outside brick was cleaned, the columns washed – scrubbed – and repainted, the kitchen was gutted and the contractor had begun work there. He was a middle-aged man named Floyd (his momma named him that mind you) who thought that flannel was the only thing to wear – ever – but seemed nice enough if a tad eccentric.

Floyd whistled show tunes while he measured and re-measured, and on more than one occasion she found herself humming along with him. He really threw her once when he switched to Elvis in the middle of ‘My Fair Lady’s,’ "Why Can't the English Learn to Speak" but he was a constant source of entertainment and Buffy could fault neither his taste in kitchen designs nor his price.

He had also suggested someone to see to the gardens come spring. Buffy refrained from asking if it was a relative; she liked Floyd well enough but frankly she didn’t want to know.

So the kitchen was underway, Floyd was gone for the evening, the bedroom was stripped of the once beautiful but now horribly stained and faded silk wallpaper that adorned it and was now being repainted in a muted green by Riley. He wasn’t much for the handyman side of things, but very few people could mess up a painting job in an empty room…with tarps on the floor, just in case.

Her bed was ordered and her furniture was stacked in the library waiting for the all clear. Boxes were piled three high containing clothes, shoes, and general miscellaneous bedroom items also waiting for the bedroom to be completed. It was Friday evening, three weeks after she had began her renovations, and Buffy hoped to be at least partially moved in by Sunday afternoon.

Riley’s best friend, Xander, and his wife, Anya, were in charge of the living room tonight. There was a two-fold reason behind that. It was the only place big enough for everyone to eat in and Buffy really wanted to use the fireplace before the weather changed more than it already had. Sure LA winters could be mild, but this was one year she was hoping for a severe chill.

Walking up the staircase, adding new carpet to her list of things she wanted…or maybe hardwood instead? No matter, it would most likely be low on her list of things to complete; Buffy stood in the doorway and watched as Riley carefully painted around the window. He had taped the molding but he was a meticulous man and didn’t want to waste paint or ruin the job.

Stepping into the room, Buffy felt a soft chill run down her spine. It happened a lot, but usually when she was in the house alone. She was sure there was at least a semi-logical explanation for it, though there were rumors – some confirmed by Floyd – that the house was haunted. But in LA something more than twenty-five years old was always haunted.

However, she never heard moans or creaks, wasn’t plagued by strange dreams or unexplained visitors. She simply felt a…presence every once in a while.

Tonight, though, she shook it off and walked up to Riley, wrapping her arms around him from behind. Placing a kiss on his shoulder blade, she rested her head against his back before he turned in her embrace.

"Looks good, I don’t think we’ll need another coat." She smiled at him, but her eyes wandered around the room. Yes, the green was the right choice here; it was dark enough to please her, yet not so much as to look like a cave.

"Has Willow arrived with dinner yet?" He placed another kiss on her lips before trailing down to her throat.

"Hmm, no but I expect her to any moment. Willow said something about bringing Cordelia, getting the girl out of the house, but wasn’t sure she’d agree. Are you staying tonight?"

"Yes…though where we’re sleeping I haven’t a clue."

"We’ll figure something out, I’m sure." Buffy was about to deepen the kiss when the doorbell rang and Willow’s cheerful voice floated through the house.

"Looks like dinner’s here." They walked downstairs hand in hand, content, laughing at Xander as he came out to help Willow – minus Cordelia – with the food and drinks and tripped over part of the pulled up carpeting.

No one noticed the shimmer of silver light that again lightened the foyer.
***********
Damn it, she was late.

Not that that was unusual when she got less than six hours of sleep after walking through her new house yet again, admiring and re-admiring the progress and adding things to her to-do list. But she had a meeting to attend with potential advertisers and it really didn’t do to keep the people willing to spend their money on your company waiting.

With a screech of tires, Buffy pulled her late model BMW into her reserved parking spot – thank God for privileges – and jumped out, briefcase clutched in one hand, her keys and purse dangling from another.

Granted it was a family business, but that didn’t mean she had the right to slack off. As VP of Marketing, she was responsible for too many things to allow her new obsession to interfere with her duties. And it had been, for the past three months as she unpacked and redecorated and re-did her house, it had interfered more and more with her outside life; not to the point where she missed work, but if today was any indication, it was getting close.

There was just something about the place that drew her in, made her want to stay there all the time.

But Riley was bringing dinner with him tonight – or was she supposed to cook? – Buffy had a sinking sensation she had promised to cook something. No matter, a quick stop at the grocery store would somehow be scheduled into her day. But she vowed, as the elevator took its interminable time ascending to the thirtieth floor, that she’d make these last months up to him.

He took it well enough she was sure and it wasn’t like he didn’t spend all of the weekend and several of the weeknights in her bed. He never complained, helped her with whatever she wanted help with, and understood her need to see to every detail. Or at least he said he did.

No matter, tonight was all about him. No house matters were going to interfere with their evening. Except that it was in her house, but she was determined to let the house take care of itself for this one night. Tomorrow was soon enough to begin stressing over the molding in the dinning room – the last owners had the impudence to paint over the lovely hand crafted designs on the genuine mahogany wood.

But that would have to wait until tomorrow. Right now she was going to bring more money into the company and spend time with her lover before he began to believe that she wanted him only for manual labor. Though he did look really good in that tight t-shirt he wore the other day as they were painting…
~~~~~~~
The meeting went better than she had hoped.

In fact, the associates were more than understanding over her interest in her house and one even had several good contacts for the paint stripping Buffy was beginning to believe she needed. The dinning room molding wasn’t the only place that needed paint removed.

Next stop, grocery store. Not that she cooked all that well, but there were a few things Buffy was capable of making and steak and pepper kabobs on the grill was definitely one of them. Maybe with some shrimp? She’d have to see if they carried anything fresh, the little market she usually went to was already closed for the day. Not for the first time she blessed the mildness of LA seasons, though it was early March, most of the country was still caught in the cold grip of winter.

Hmm, did she have any wine at home? Yes, Giles had sent her several bottles from France and Italy as a long distance house-warming gift when his book tour took him through those countries. Perfect.

She had unpacked her plates and silverware already, the dinning room was a mess, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t eat…someplace else. Maybe she’d skip the formal plate thing and go for the picnic style setting. The night was supposed to get cool, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy it for a little while at least. Some candle light…did she have any candles? Well, she’d buy more anyway. Wine, music…thank God her stereo was already set up.

Yes, it was going to be a night to remember.

Buffy intended to seduce Riley, no matter that they had already spent the last year of their relationship making love, she intended to seduce him tonight. Not because she felt a smidgen guilty for ignoring him (though she did), but because she wanted to do this for him. And, okay, there was that guilt.

Three hours later everything was going according to plan; the steak was grilled and eaten minus the shrimp she didn’t find, the chilled wine drank and savored, the music playing softly in the background, and Riley laughing with her. It was all so peaceful, all so…normal.

Buffy resolutely ignored the twinge in her heart that said she was settling and slowly walked to where he sat on the ground, back against the veranda post. Straddling his hips, she cast one last glace at the grill, making sure everything was off and smiled down at him.

The kiss was soft at first, a gentle touch of the lips. Slowly Buffy deepened it, not allowing Riley to take over the pace as he so often did. Her hands floated up his broad chest to tangle in his hair as she slanted her mouth, changing the angle of the kiss. Feeling his hands caress her leg, settling on her hips, Buffy pulled back and smiled.

"Not tonight, Riley." At his look, part confused, part excited and all aroused, Buffy moved forward again to scrape her teeth along the column of his neck. She felt his arousal throbbing incessantly against her and slowly ground her pelvis into him.

He moaned her name, making her smile. It wasn’t that this was the first time she had taken control of their lovemaking; it was just the first time she didn’t allow him to take that control away. And it wasn’t like he was always the dominant one, no, nothing like that. Riley was a sweet and caring lover. But he was always the one to suggest new things, Buffy never had.

Tonight that all was about to change. Tonight they were going to do things her way and nothing was going to stop her.

Standing up, Buffy held out her hand and silently led him to her room. It was, naturally, the first room completed, with a huge four-poster bed, three long windows overlooking the inner gardens, and a giant walk-in closet. Candles were scattered around and while Riley sat at the edge of the bed as she instructed, Buffy lighted them, adding a soft glow to the room.

"Lay back, Riley." Her words were a soft command but they floated across the short distance clearly enough and he quickly obeyed.

Buffy wore a long silk skirt and a matching silk top but she didn’t remove them as she…stalked to the bed. Starting with his shoes, she removed every article of clothing, her mouth careful to taste every inch of skin she exposed. For long minutes her talented mouth played over his erection, swirling the top over and over until Riley thought sure he was going to explode.

When the last piece of clothing was removed and the final inch of skin tasted, Buffy quickly shed her own clothing, careful to throw it over a chair so it wouldn’t get wrinkled, and climbed onto Riley; her own arousal evident in the delicate flush of her skin, the hardening of her nipples and the breathless pant as she sank over him, bringing him in as deep as possible.

Slowly she began to ride him, long and languid, her hair streamed down her back, her eyes were half closed as her hands moved over his chest and arms. She distinctively felt his hands, large and warm, trailing over her thighs to grip her hips, his thighs hard and solid rubbing against hers...

But then there was another impression, cool yet all the more arousing for that. Sensation streaked through her as not solid impressions of hands covered her breasts, pinching the already hardened nipples into aching peaks that cried out for more. Dimly she felt Riley’s hands move over her taunt stomach, but all she could concentrate on was that cool feeling gliding over her.

Nails, short and blunt, scraped over her nipples, teasing the soft underside of her breast, moving lower over the stomach Riley had just abandoned to tease her swollen clitoris. Buffy moved faster, caught up in sensations and feelings and need that she didn’t yet realize were not coming from Riley.

Not enough, it wasn’t enough before those wonderful hands skimmed back up her body, tracing the bones of her jaw and cheek.

Vividly Buffy felt one hand tangle in her hair, pulling her head further back, exposing the long smooth column of her neck to place cool kisses there even as the other smoothed down her side to tease her clit again. She was still moving over Riley, slamming onto him with a recklessness that she had never felt before, taking them both close to the edge they so craved.

An edge Buffy had never sought as desperately as she did this night.

More cool kisses, almost phantom in their feel, covered her collarbone, her shoulder, down her arm to her fingers curling into her own thighs. Switching to the other arm, before closing over one nipple, biting it with phantom teeth before soothing it with a phantom tongue.

That did it; Buffy felt herself flying, falling, soaring into one heady tide after another. Crying out, Buffy squeezed her inner most walls over and over as her orgasm continued to wash through her, bringing an unsuspecting Riley with her.

Exhausted, sated, Buffy toppled onto Riley’s chest only to roll off him a scant moment later. Long minutes passed before she found the strength to wonder what had just happened. That was the most intense sexual experience she had ever had…and Buffy wasn’t entirely sure it was from Riley.
~~~~~~~~
"Buffy, wow that was…" Riley had no words to describe what had just happened between them.

They had been lovers for over a year and in that time she had never been so abandoned, so wild and…purely sexual as she was tonight. Not that he didn’t love the other Buffy, that was the one he had fallen in love with after all, but this new one…he could definitely get used to her.

Riley rolled onto his side to look at her; eyes slumberous and sated, hair wild and tangled over her and the bed. He had often said how nice and chic she would look with shorter hair but she had never listened; Buffy wasn’t a vain woman, but her hair was her one pride. Riley was suddenly glad she hadn’t listened to him.

Placing a hand on her stomach he moved it in slow circles as he watched her come back down to earth. Yes, wild and abandoned were the right words for her tonight.

He didn’t pause to question why suddenly, why tonight, or even why at all. Riley didn’t care, all he knew was that it excited him more than anything and he wanted…more. Finally, their relationship was moving on, moving into previously uncharted realms. Before Buffy had never seemed interested in experimentation beyond the most mild of forms, though Riley didn’t know it was because when she was with him, she thought she was supposed to be the dutiful lover.

He was unaware that tonight was the first night she had let herself go, had completely freed herself from the self imposed limits she had always set for herself. Even she was unaware as to why she had such limits, all she knew was that for the first time in her life she felt free, unrestrained, and blissfully unbound.

Now if only she could figure out what had happened to make her so, maybe she wouldn’t feel like she was losing her mind.
***********
She was losing her mind.

That was the only explanation – logical or illogical – that made sense. Or the only one she allowed to make sense. The alternative was unthinkable. Normal people, she assumed, didn’t have sexual encounters with ghosts. Or not that she had ever heard of at least.

Yup, she was losing her mind.

She repeated to herself throughout most of the next day that it had all been some kind of weirdness, that whatever had happened was NOT a ghost/phantom lover, that she had made it all up. The fact that she had never experienced anything like that and doubted her ability to fabricate it from her imagination was firmly pushed away.

Best not to think of things like that.

Buffy went to work, did her job, talked to various family members and employees as if nothing untoward had happened the previous night. And when Riley called to say he couldn’t make it to dinner that night, she was more than happy to make excuses.

Their friends would just have to do without the both of them for one night; Buffy didn’t feel at all up to socializing. Unbelievably tired from both her strange night and her roller coaster emotions from the experience, Buffy forced herself to stay later than usual at the office, intent on finalizing several contracts. And, well, she didn’t want to go home just yet.

But at 7:30 she could no longer focus on the words in front of her and wearily climbed into her car, blessing the relative lack of traffic at this late hour. The winding driveway to her house looked more imposing than it had the previous day and Buffy couldn’t help but wonder if that was because of her weird night.

It wasn’t that she was scared to enter the place, no, that wasn’t it at all. It was more a strange…anticipation. Equally frightened as to what she would find there and eagerness that maybe, if she wanted it badly enough, it would happen again.

Yes, she was definitely losing her mind.

However, as she reheated leftover steak and poured herself a glass of wine, Buffy decided she was too tired to dwell on it any longer. Whatever had happened the night before had probably been an isolated incident, a product of wine and lust, and was unlikely to happen again.

She thought that as she climbed into bed and plumped up the pillows behind her. She thought that as she reached for her uncle’s latest book and prepared to read a chapter or two before she fell asleep – not that she couldn’t read more, but she always wanted them to last longer than the 300 pages or so they ran.

She thought that right up until she started to doze off…

…And felt two pairs of hands gently holding the sides of her face, cool soft lips caressing her own. A sigh escaped her, and while she snapped back to full wakefulness, Buffy didn’t try to stop the sensations.

Hands tangled in her hair, spreading the long golden locks over her pillow. Lips she couldn’t see but which felt all too real traced the fine bones of her face, over closed eyelids to sweep across high cheekbones and resettle on her waiting mouth.

Somehow, Buffy didn’t ask, couldn’t even begin to form the words to do so, the comforter inched lower, exposing flushed skin to cool kisses. The thin straps of the tank top she had worn to bed were pushed down, revealing the creamy round of shoulder and the soft hollow of neck.

Long, long minutes were spent worshiping her skin there, the delicate shell of her ear, the sensitive hollow behind her ear, the arch of neck and the slope of shoulder. Through the cotton material of her top her nipples were briefly kissed in turn, not nearly enough time being spent there. Buffy closed her eyes, the better to indulge herself in all these wonderful new sensations.

Thoughts for Riley were gone, thoughts that she was hallucinating, that this was a dream were put to rest as hands she couldn’t see but could feel more vividly than anything else in her entire life caressed her suddenly supersensitive skin. A soft sigh escaped her parted lips, a moan for more.

Her eyes still closed, Buffy felt her top being pulled upwards, a cool tongue tracing circles over the toned flesh of her stomach, lapping at each rib before circling around a taunt nipple. Sitting up to remove her shirt, Buffy tossed it away, feeling those ghost hands smoothly, gently, push her back to the bed.

Cradling her head, more kisses to her lips, her cheeks and jaw. Hands again tangled in her hair though she could not see them. With a quiet sigh she complied with the still gentle pressure to lay back and felt teeth close over the nipple, gentle at first. Just as she was about to demand more, though she had no idea how or to whom, the pressure increased, shooting a bolt of lightening through her veins.

Buffy cried out in pleasure, her fingers curling into the bedding as she arched up. Exquisite, these feelings rushing through her, the sheer intensity, the fire in her veins…it was all so much, all so new. And she wanted to experience every single drop of it.

Suddenly the comforter was gone, the single sheet pushed to the foot of the bed, and Buffy’s pajama shorts were being slowly pushed down her tanned legs, twisting through her feet before being tossed aside. More cool kisses placed on her feet, over arch and ankle, up shapely calf.

Nipping kisses on the inside of her thigh, so close, please…only to start over on the other leg. Giving the same attention until both limbs were lax from pleasure and Buffy was shaking from need.

"Please…" She had no idea to whom she was begging, nor was she conscious of actually begging aloud, all she knew was that she needed…

Right there, ah, yes, right there. Calloused hands (how could she tell they were calloused?) held her hips as teeth scraped over her swollen clitoris, sucking it all too briefly into a wonderfully cool mouth, tongue flickering over it again and again.

Buffy dug her fingers further into the bedding and ground herself into a formless face. Harder, please, harder…did she say those words aloud or just silently beg? It didn’t matter for it seemed the…whoever knew and eagerly complied.

A flash shot through her, igniting the liquid passion running through her blood. With a shout Buffy felt herself propelled over the edge, crashing into colors and swirls that overlapped again and again. On and on this went, her phantom lover giving her no surcease, and then, so leisurely it was as if he enjoyed this as much as she had, he slowed, and she floated back to reality.
Drowsy, content, Buffy smiled, "Hmm, nice." Her limbs were relaxed, she couldn’t have moved had the world depended upon it. Yet the sheet and comforter found their way back onto the bed, tucking her securely in their warmth.

Just as her eyes were beginning to close, Buffy felt one more kiss, placed tenderly on her forehead. And though no breath stirred the air, though no sound marred the perfect silence that surrounded her, she distinctly heard, "Good night, love."
~~~~~~~~
Just because it happened twice in two nights didn’t mean anything. No, not at all. Except that maybe she had just developed the wildest, most vivid imagination of all time.

Still, it was early Saturday morning and Buffy was awake and happy. Showering she debated what to do with her day; maybe she’d just see what happened. She sang along with Elvis as she made herself breakfast and brewed tea. The sun pouring through the windows of the barely begun kitchen was beautiful and the weather promised to be warm for March.

Pouring herself a second cup of tea, she brought it outside and sat in the overgrown garden, listening to birds and enjoying the peaceful morning. The phone rang but Buffy ignored it, content to listen to the world in peace.

And if she felt the presence of her ghost lover hover behind her, it only added to the feeling of contentment. If his hands combed out her braids, she purred in happiness as those same hands massaged her scalp and shoulders. If his lips caressed her neck, she only arched to the side, allowing him better access.

She couldn’t see him, true, but Buffy knew when he settled himself beside her, head resting against her thigh, hand moving up and down her calf. Together they watched the sun rise higher in the sky, the day warming pleasantly so, the birds singing to their mates.

The outside world was ignored, the phone rang, but there was a machine. When Buffy’s stomach grumbled, her ghost lover made her a salad and brought her a glass of water. When she had still done nothing but sit in the sun with a man she couldn’t see, watching the world spring to life around them, and the vivid colors of the setting sun swirled together, Buffy stood, looked to the spot she somehow knew him to be, held out her hand and said, "Come upstairs."

He was a strong, familiar presence as they closed the outer doors, walked up the stairs. The bed wasn’t made from the previous night but there was no rush to make it there.

Slow, languid kisses caressed her from head to toe, and again she closed her eyes. He guided her to the bed, laying her down on its plush comfort before leisurely tasting her all over again. Buffy’s first peak washed over her oh so softly and gently before he built her back up once, twice, a third time.

Incoherent, thrashing under clever hands and skilled tongue, sobbing with need, Buffy felt her final orgasm crash over her, light and colors and need and want. She fought for breath, panting even as cool hands soothed heated flesh. Limp, sated, she curled to her side as the sheet and comforter covered her sweaty form.

"Who are you?" She asked, as sleep claimed her.

And in dreams, she found her answer…
~~~~~~~~~~
Vivid clarity surrounded her, bright colors and sharp sounds.

Buffy was confused at first, having no idea where she stood. Did she stand? Yes, she was, at least it seemed to be the case; everything looked vertical, as if she were seeing it from an upright angle.

But that didn’t explain the setting.

It was day that much she could tell. There were people in the house…her house? Yes, it was her house though the style was clearly at least a hundred years older the structure was the same; Buffy would recognize her home anywhere. Servants roamed as unobtrusively as possible, seeing to the daily routine that was any large household.

A child ran down the stairs, jumping down the last two with a grand flourish and wide grin that required a big applause from the man watching. Instead, all the child received was a stern look and a reprimand; ‘No child of mine…’

The words faded and the scene morphed before her. A funeral, though the weather didn’t cooperate; sunny and warm, birds chirping, animals playing. The child, now older, looked at the grave before him. No tears marred his solemn face; no emotion broke through the stoic look he presented any onlookers.

Suddenly he looked up, directly into her eyes though Buffy was fairly sure he couldn’t really see her. For an all too brief second she could see emotion, raw and painful shimmer under the tears that threatened to spill from such dark brown eyes; eyes that were entirely to old for a child his age.

But they were quickly shielded behind his façade one again. Buffy turned to look behind her but all she saw was the gravestone; she couldn’t, however, read anything on it.

Rain poured down, coating everything with a somber air. People stayed inside unless necessary, animals ventured out because they needed to, rivers overflowed and roads washed away. The boy had turned into a man, and the man sat in the library, a cheery fire lightening his profile though he didn’t seem to notice anything.

Gone was the smiling rambunctious child Buffy had first seen, in his place was someone who had been beaten down one too many times, though the scars seemed more emotional than physical. He sat in a leather winged back chair, a book open and forgotten in his lap, scattered pieces of heavy paper with drawings Buffy couldn’t decipher encircling him, a glass of amber liquid tipped precariously in his hand as he stared above the fireplace at a portrait that hung there, though Buffy couldn’t make out any features.

Occasionally he looked towards the door, an absent gesture as if he had done so a thousand times before, but whomever he waited for never walked through. Buffy took a longer moment to look at the man; long legs stretched out before him, hands broad of palm and slender of finger looked more artist than worker. Chiseled face; sharp cheekbones, a prominent nose, deep, deep brown eyes. Hair, shoulder length and dark brown hung carelessly about his face.

Again he looked up at her, piercing her with those brown eyes – pain, anguish, heartbreak, despair shone out from them and broke Buffy’s heart. Lips moved but she couldn’t make out the words. Still, he seemed to be calling for someone, someone who apparently meant a great deal to him for the next moment there were tears tracking down his cheeks and loud sobs echoed around her.

But in the next second the scene was gone and in its place another funeral scene. No one but the man stood at this grave, though from the looks of things that hadn’t always been the case. The sun was setting behind him, casting the setting in an array of golds and reds.

Suddenly he fell to his knees, sobs wracking his body as hands curled into tight fists and raged helplessly at the grave stone before him.

Julianna Chadswick MacMurrough
15 December 1865
27 June 1895
Beloved Wife

Buffy’s breath caught in her dream as she looked at the gravestone. Blinking tears away, though she knew neither the woman nor the man crying for her, in a flash everything changed. Next to the first headstone lay another.

Liam Angelus MacMurrough
15 December 1865
31 December 1895
Together With His Beloved Julianna
May They Rest in Peace Forevermore

With a sob Buffy started awake, unsurprised to feel tears on her cheeks. She was, however, surprised to note the time; it was Sunday morning. She had slept through the night, dreaming of a man she had never truly met.

Wildly she searched the room for him, though logically she knew she would be unable to see him. Even his presence was gone, though Buffy doubted he had been gone long. She knew that he had spent the night looking after her, just as she knew that whomever she had dreamed about, this Liam was her ghost lover.

Clarity reasserted itself and Buffy climbed out of bed. She had a lot to do that day, none of which could be accomplished in this house…at least not yet.
~~~~~~~~
Showered, dressed, and fed, Buffy gathered her purse and keys and went to pick-up her friends, Willow and Cordelia. They had made plans for the day – partly to get Cordelia out of her moping though she’d never admit to it and partly because Buffy was spending more and more time with her house and less with her friends – and Buffy had no intention on canceling them…especially not after the bizarreness of the previous night.

What she needed, Buffy reasoned, was time. Time to assimilate all that she had learned, dreamed about…and time to discover more about her lover. So, first antiquing and shopping in downtown LA then a stop off to the LA Public Library – were they opened on Sundays? Better check that out, first.

Tomorrow she’d see about getting to city hall and digging into the history of her house that way. She had two names, surely there’d be birth, death and marriage certificates there...especially since she had exact dates. The LAPL should have microfilm on that, too, assuming they still had the papers from then.
~~~~~~
It was a lovely spring day; the sky was a crystal blue, the sun raining just a hint of the warmth that was to come on the populace. The streets were crowded, true, but that didn’t deter Buffy’s joy. If, occasionally, she got a faraway look in her eyes, it was quickly dismissed.

"Buffy…Buffy, hey, are you in there?" Willow looked at her friend. She had been acting strangely all day, though she tried hard to conceal it. Between that and Cordy’s sulking it made for a trying day.

"Yeah, Willow, just…thinking." What she had been thinking of was the previous evening which led to feeling things from the previous evening, which led to wondering how fast she could make it home again. Which was firmly squashed as she looked at her two best friends; this was something of a test. Could she stay away?

The answer looked to be a resounding no.

"About what?" Cordelia asked, trying to get involved with something though she had her own issues to deal with. Not that she was dealing very well, but she was trying. It had been more than half a year, shouldn’t that be enough time? "You’ve been in a fog all day."

Buffy could not – absolutely not – tell her friends about her sexual encounters the past two nights. While Willow may have a more logical explanation for her than Buffy could come up with and Cordelia would probably demand details, Buffy didn’t want anyone else to know about it.

This – he – was something she wanted all to herself.

"Um, the house. There’s so much yet to do, I’m just thinking what should be next, you know, rearranging things and all…" Not a complete lie, what she was honestly thinking about was in the house…

"I know I’ve barely seen you these past few months! You work then race home to remodel this or that only to start the whole thing over again." Willow set down her mug of coco and looked out at the busy sidewalk for a second. Sharing a look with Cordy, Willow added, "We’ve missed you, you know."

Reaching across the table to grasp their hands, Buffy smiled. "I know. Life’s been crazy; I can barely keep up myself. I just really want it done so I can see the end product; I want it all to look like it looks in my head. I have this great vision; I just want it all done so I can enjoy it."

Standing and gathering their bags, Buffy smiled at her friends, the ones she had known forever, the ones who had stood by her since they all met forever ago. Linking arms with them she smiled brightly and determinedly pushed ghost lovers and dreams from her mind, "Tell you what; when it’s all done, when everything looks the way I want it to, we’ll have a party. A kind of house warming, ‘Yippee it’s done,’ summer something. Sound good?"

Cordelia laughed, surprising her friends as much as herself as they walked down the street, a striking sight in the midmorning sun. "I can hardly wait…do you really think it’ll be ready by the summer?"

"I was thinking the end of summer, actually."

And for the rest of the morning and early afternoon, Buffy tried her best to keep her mind, and her wayward and very explicit thoughts, off her phantom lover. She laughed and joked with Willow as they worked to bring Cordy out of her self-imposed shell a little more. They bought things they all knew none of them really needed, and had a twelve person dining set scheduled to be delivered to Buffy’s house in four weeks.

Hopefully the dining room would be finished – started – by then.

But as soon as she got home, Buffy dropped her purchases in a corner of her bedroom and headed for the shower…to be met by cool hands and soft, gentle lips. Shivering under the tender onslaught, Buffy realized that all the tension she had been carrying throughout the day, tension she hadn’t realized was there, suddenly evaporated.

The first quiet peak of her orgasm washed over her and she sighed in completion. She was home…
***********
Buffy excelled at research.

For years before she earned her own position within the family company Buffy helped her Uncle Giles with research for his books; he had always been under the impression that hiring someone to help you just wasn’t as fun, they never pointed out the weird and interesting tidbits they found if it wasn't connected to the topic they were covering.

Even though her older sister, Faith, was the one to pursue a career with their uncle, helping him publicize his book tours, Buffy was always ready to share strange and interesting facts with anyone who listened, making her the perfect candidate for his assistant.

So as she sat in a far corner of the central LA Public Library on Monday afternoon, Buffy tried to focus her search as narrowly as possible; the library was only opened for four more hours and she hadn’t the time this week to come back. Besides, she had a new and fascinating lover waiting her back home.

Smiling at that, Buffy couldn’t help the slight blush that colored her cheeks. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed about it; no on the contrary, she was...enjoying herself very much. The blush was for the tingle that swept through her at the mere thought of what he did to her.

Controlling her breathing was something else entirely and Buffy spent several precious moments trying to get her system back under control.

Okay, so where to begin first? She knew when her house was built, that had been part of her initial research when she had first laid eyes on the grand structure. In the mid 1800s there still wasn’t a lot of building going on; LA, and indeed California, were still considered frontier land and strongly Catholic at that.

But her house, okay, so it was more a mansion than anything else, was built by Irish immigrants in 1858. John Fineness MacMurrough… MacMurrough, the same name from her dream. They were the original owners of her house, they built it and he…her lover lived there, was he John’s son? That part was blurred, Buffy couldn’t understand it; she remembered feelings more than actual words.

Still, a wonderful beginning.

Two and a half hours later she decided that she had found all she was going to find without looking through old newspapers; assuming the library even carried them that far back. Stretching her cramped limbs, Buffy gathered her notes and photocopied pages, put her books on the reshelving cart, and walked into the fading afternoon sun. Looking at her watch as she slipped her sunglasses on, and deciding that she had read enough for one day and that was all that was waiting her back at the office, Buffy turned towards her car and home.

The fact that her phantom lover was waiting for her admittedly made her move faster but that wasn’t the sole reason she wanted to get there. She was tired and simply wanted the warmth and comfort of her own home. Maybe she was turning into a hermit.

As she pulled into the last of rush hour traffic, though in LA that was really relative, Buffy thought about what she had learned. John Fineness had immigrated to America from Ireland during the potato famine; he was single, no listed family, and no money to his name. But he was lucky in business or gambling or both and managed to build a decent name for himself in Philadelphia before heading west.

After California was ceded by Mexico in 1848, the influx of Americans was slow yet steady. Apparently wishing to increase his fortunes or simply looking for a change, he had traveled westward. Partnering with stagecoach baron, Phineas Barron as a minor and silent partner in the construction of Wilmington, John managed to increase his fortunes considerably and steadily over the following years.

In August 1856 he married Sara Mary Katherine O’Connell, seven years his junior. Naturally nothing was said of their private life but there was enough innuendo in the books and memoirs Buffy could find to indicate Sara was not a well woman. But she was active and well liked in the community and apparently dotted on her son…Liam Angelus who was born nearly a decade after their marriage.

There was some speculation that after so long without a child that the son wasn’t John’s but nothing substantial.

As Buffy pulled into her driveway, she wondered at the woman, Liam’s wife. She hadn’t the chance to find more on her than her birth and death dates – though she already knew that from her dream; and, because they were well known in LA, their wedding date: November 12, 1883. Maybe after she finalized the contracts for Joshua and Sons she’d have time to go back to the library.

But for now, she was going to have a quiet evening at home, no interruptions, no contracts, no history, just her, her house – she’d have to see what the workers accomplished today – and her lover. It was going to be a fine evening.
~~~~~~
It wasn’t a fine evening.

Riley was waiting for her as she gathered her research and unlocked the front door. At least Riley was waiting for her with food, so points in his favor. Oops, she had forgotten about him. That was sad, forgetting about your long time lover in the space of a weekend. Didn’t bode well for the relationship. But that was something Buffy’d think about later.

"Riley…what are you doing here?" She didn’t want to be rude, truly, but she had definite plans for the evening and they certainly didn’t include seeing Riley Finn. Not that she didn’t care for him, she did but…and since there was a ‘but’ that should have said it all. There shouldn’t be a ‘but’ when discussing the man who had occupied the majority of her time for the last year.

"Thought I’d bring you dinner, Buffy. I haven’t seen you all weekend, I tried calling, but always got the machine." Smiling, worried about her, but relieved to see her safe and in one piece, he tried to joke. "If I didn't know better I’d think you were avoiding me."

Buffy smiled, though it was strained and false. She said the appropriate words and talked to him as if nothing were out of the norm. He noticed, it was hard not to, but Riley couldn’t discern the cause of her distance. He tried subtly, he tried gentle hints, but Buffy refused to disclose what was bothering her.

They ate mostly in silence, before Buffy finally pleaded a long day and a headache. "I’m really sorry, Riley, I know that I haven’t been the best company, but I just don’t feel very well tonight. I spent most of the afternoon in the library and I think my eyes are going to cross."

Walking behind her, Riley gently massaged her shoulders. She was horribly tense, not at all like he was used to; usually Buffy didn’t let anything get to her. In a soft soothing voice he asked, "What were you doing at the library?"

"Researching…" Buffy trailed off, partly because his hands did feel good though she usually preferred a harder massage, and partly because she didn’t want to tell him, or anyone for that matter, what she had really been researching. "Hmm, that feels nice." But it felt only nice, not great, not earth shattering, not even wonderful, just…nice.

Riley loved her; he liked to think that he understood her and that everything and anything she needed from him she could ask for. So when he felt her begin to relax, felt her muscles go lax under his hands and a soft sigh fall from her lips, Riley came to the right conclusion that all Buffy needed was to get to bed.

He could have no idea that cool, invisible hands were working their own special kind of magic on his lover and that she was responding to that and only that. It wasn’t done maliciously on her part, not at all. It was more of an instinctive response. Her body knew what it wanted, who it wanted, and went for it, damn the consequences.

"Buffy, why don’t I put you to bed?" His voice was soft and solicitous as he removed his hands and crouched in front of her; her eyes were closed and her lips parted. She was beautiful and innocent and erotic all at once. How could any man not love her?

Riley had no idea that those firm hands and soft lips had moved with him, trailing over shoulder and neck to caress her back, to reach around and softly tweak her hardening nipples as his mouth did wonderfully erotic things to her.

Slowly, as if struggling through a fog, Buffy looked at Riley. Yes, she did care for him, just not enough, "Bed? Yes, that sounds perfect." And then realizing what she said and to whom, Buffy stood, smiling. "I’m really sorry, Riley, really I am; I’ve just had such a long day and the rest of the week promises to hold more of the same." I really, really, hope it does at least, Buffy thought as his hands slipped up her skirt – how did he manage that? – to caress her panty covered mound.

"Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? You aren’t looking very well – you aren’t coming down with anything are you?" His voice was all concern as he raised a hand to her forehead, but Buffy didn’t hear that, all she could feel was her panty’s being pushed to the side and long cool fingers entering her moist heat.

Swallowing hard, trying to keep her voice even and level and anything approaching calm, Buffy just smiled, "No, really, I’ll be fine. I have some things to finish up and I want to take a look at what they’ve done in the house today, then I’m off to bed." Sooner rather than later if she had anything to say about it.

Riley smiled, "If that’s what you want, okay then. But Buffy," he cupped her face in his large gentle hands. "If you need anything, please, please, call me. I worry about you."

The smile she sent him this time was genuine and full of all the affection she had for him. "I know, Riley. But don’t worry, I’m fine." The hitch in her breath she successfully covered into a yawn. Oh, God, yes, right there…how was it that he knew all her most erotic secret spots?

Placing a kiss on her lips, one which he deepened with no resistance from Buffy though she was unaware of doing so, Riley pulled back, gathered his jacket and, with one last look at her, walked out. And not one minute too soon; the second the front door closed, Buffy’s clothes were stripped from her body and she was attacked with a vengeance that would have shocked her had she not welcomed it so.

Riley had cleared the kitchen island they had been using for their dinner and suddenly Buffy found herself lying atop of the old and faded surface; the island wasn’t scheduled for renovation until most of the rest of the kitchen was done. Buttons popped through their holes or were scattered, forgotten on across the floor in their rush; they’d certainly intrigue Floyd the next morning though he was taciturn enough to say nothing.

Close, she was so close, just a little more and Buffy knew she’d feel that edge once more. But her lover seemed intent on taking his time.

Was it for Riley? He couldn’t be jealous, could he? Buffy tried to keep that train of thought, but it was so difficult when hands and teeth and tongue and God, yes, just there, were assaulting her senses, overloading every nerve ending with sensations that threatened to overwhelm her but that she couldn’t get enough of. A hand gripped her wrists over her head, holding her prisoner even as his other one continued its exploration of her all too willing body.

Without warning he plunged two long fingers into her, and Buffy screamed with release.

Slowly working her body, knowing where and when to touch, how much pressure to exert; when to exert more and when to simply hold the feeling, he built her up to another then another climax. Was it punishment for Riley? Probably, but that didn’t change the fact that Buffy didn’t care, she loved what he did to her, loved the pace and the feelings, and yes, even his need to claim her.

Over and over until she was hoarse from screaming her release and her shouts echoed off the walls, he pleasured her. Gentle, forceful, demanding, a myriad of emotions and feelings and yet…he never did anything which made her uncomfortable, never pushed her farther than she herself was willing to go, never did anything that would have made her wish to stop.

When he flipped her over, tracing the lines of her back and buttocks she squirmed but not in shame or fear, with passion…and the pleas that fell from her lips were all for more.

When he used her shirt – or what remained of the soft material after he had ripped it open – to bind her hands together over her head, and spread her legs wide before his not seen but felt all the same gaze, Buffy allowed it, knowing that if she had wished to stop, then he would have without question.

And when they eventually moved from the kitchen, they made it as far as the stairs before her lover brought her to another mind dazzling orgasm.

Sitting on a step, not knowing what was coming, not caring for it would be wonderful, Buffy enjoyed the change in position. She and Riley had never really been much for experimentation; though Buffy didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t into it or because she hadn’t even thought of it while with him, but this…this was simply wonderful. With her legs spread wide across the steps and her hips tilted, Buffy felt his fingers and tongue – how could she feel them but not see them? – deeper than before as he traced her sex, her thighs, the backs of her knees.

Finally they made it to the bed, and Buffy collapsed on the comforter, too sated, too tired to move underneath the covering. That didn’t stop her lover from picking her up – how did he manage that? – and placing her under the soft sheets. Sighing in contentment, Buffy curled onto her side and into a man she couldn’t see but who felt entirely too real, and slept more peacefully than she could ever remember sleeping.
********
It had been several weeks since the discovery of her ghost lover and Buffy couldn’t get enough of him.

When she was at work all she thought about was getting back home. When she was with friends her mind strayed from their conversations more frequently than it stayed on what they were saying. She had purposely avoided Riley claiming tiredness and the house renovation and work as excuses.

But she had been avoiding work as well.

Sure, she went into the office, looked over papers that were piling higher and higher on her desk, went to meetings, listened to proposals and business and fun related chitchat, but none of that really penetrated. Buffy was almost solely focused on the man waiting for her at home, the one who showed her incredible heights of pleasure, dizzying and fast or slow and gentle and loving.

Oh, God, Buffy thought, straightening in her chair. "Oh, God!"

Luckily she was in her office attempting – really she was – to focus on the work before her. But it was proving fruitless and her mind had drifted. Drifted, she thought now as she tried to calm her racing thoughts and equally racing heart, to dangerous waters. Was it possibly to fall in love with a man you couldn’t see, one you had never really had a conversation with, one whose name you knew only through dreams?

And one who had died over a hundred years ago?

No, Buffy had to be mistaken.

This felt nothing like what she felt for Riley and she had convinced herself that she loved the other man. But was it love? She knew she cared for Riley, knew that they had fun together; that they enjoyed each other’s company and had things in common.

But was that love? Was this? Or was this just lust, passion, desire?

Sure, she looked forward to going home every night, okay, so she usually took half days and really long lunches, but the point was she looked forward to seeing him. And she craved his touch; any other made her want to cringe. The blood roaring through her veins, the electricity that jumped between them every time he touched her, it was all wonderful and addicting…but was it love?

Buffy didn't know, but she suddenly had the desire to find out.

Gathering her things, sparing a look at the clock – it was barely three – Buffy walked out her double glass doors and hoped her secretary didn’t notice her leaving early. Again. She did, though, and decided it was high time she said something about it. Janice Katherine Rodriguez hadn’t worked her way from a temp in the reception area to the personal assistant – it was the politically correct age after all – of the vice president of marketing without learning to listen to her instincts.

And right now her instincts told her that there was something wrong with her boss.

"Ms. Summers, Buffy…" When Buffy looked up, Janice asked, "Are you feeling alright? I know you’re busy and that you have a lot on your plate now with the takeover, you’re your house and all, but do you think maybe you should see a doctor?"

Buffy suppressed a hysterical and entirely inappropriate laugh. A head doctor maybe, but what ailed her couldn’t be cured by a physician. "No, no Janice, I’m fine, really. This is just a lot, and I find I work better at home…" Which wasn’t a lie, being with Liam was soothing, was comforting, and she found that the work she couldn’t finish in the office was much more easily done just by feeling his presence than by staying away for hours on end and denying them both.

Janice didn’t know what else to say to that.

They were all worried about her; Buffy Summers was a bright, happy, well liked woman and even though most of her family were not, were only interested in the bottom line as most higher ups in corporate America were, Buffy actually took the time to care. When Janice’s husband was in the hospital Buffy didn’t just send flowers, she personally brought them when she visited. Leroy, the head of maintenance, had broken his leg last year and she had helped him find an in-home physical therapist to help him get back to work sooner.

But this recent behavior of hers was just…bizarre.

Maybe she was seeing someone new? No, it wasn’t like her to blow off her work. Maybe it was the house, everyone knew that it had become a huge priority – some might even say obsession – with her and that she spent every spare moment there, sanding this or painting that. The contractors she hired loved her, giving her pointers on how to do something or which paint color was better for a certain room.

"If you’re sure then, ma’am, okay. I hope…you’re feeling better." There was nothing else to say, it wasn’t Janice’s place to force Buffy to the doctor, nor even to force her to confess what was bothering her. All Janice could do was watch over Buffy when she was here…and worry.
~~~~~~~~~
The other woman needn’t have bothered as far as Buffy was concerned.

The second she walked through her front door, greeting the workers there and asking if they needed anything to eat or drink, Buffy felt him. Her Liam, hers. He was by her side, not touching not tasting, just being there, letting her know that he was with her.

She made appropriate comments to everyone she met though later she wouldn’t be able to recall what those conversations had been about. She smiled and laughed and made herself some tea in the library where they had moved a small electric kettle for just such a purpose as Floyd finished the kitchen. Buffy asked after families and friends and admired the work being done to her house as much as her distracted mind allowed.

She was, however, pleased to see that the downstairs bathroom was completed and that the tile looked just as she envisioned it. It was off white with a dark purple flower every fifteenth tile, she couldn’t remember the name of the flower at the moment, but the design worked perfectly with that she had in mind for the rest of the décor.

Eventually Buffy made her excuses and retired to her room; work here had been completed weeks before, it had been her priority as she wanted to be able to move in as quickly as possible. She set her mostly empty mug of tea on the dresser and went to change. Why she bothered Buffy didn’t know, but she did. The silk blouse and slacks were carefully folded over the settee and her calf high boots were placed on their rack in the giant walk-in closet.

That, Buffy thought as she opened her briefcase, was the absolute best thing in the world; the space, the size, it was all perfect.

Settling on her bed, papers spread out over the surface, she relaxed against the piled pillows and, closing her eyes, sighed. He was right there, sitting on the bed next to her, she could feel him as surely as if he were actually there in the flesh. She wished, with everything she was, that she could see him, could feel him as he so often felt her. But that didn’t seem to be, so she opened her eyes and smiled to where she knew he lay.

"Miss me?" Though he didn’t answer, a hand touched her face, caressing the bones, following the curve of cheek to ear, to neck. "I missed you, too, Liam, more and more every day."

The first time she used his name, hesitatingly asking if that’s who he was, the only answer she received was a faint kiss on her lips and a squeeze of her shoulders where he had been holding her. Yet she had known it was his way of telling her yes that was who he was.

"So, there are still workers downstairs, will be for at least another hour. Think I can get some work done?" It was getting harder and harder to resist him even with a house full of carpenters and plumbers, but they had turned it into a test to see how long they could hold out before the temptation became too great and they gave in.

The first time she had rushed home early from work they had managed to wait nearly three minutes; it was getting better, the more time they spent together. Buffy would tell him of her day and while he couldn’t answer back, she knew he listened. He’d massage her shoulders, help her relax; make sure that she didn’t fall too behind in her work though that, too, was getting harder to care about.

Maybe she should think about taking a long vacation, indulge herself in her lover and ignore the demands of the outside world.

For now, he picked up a paper that held the latest budget proposal for her campaign. They were taking over a smaller clothing firm with strong ties to the community they didn’t want to lose. It was her job to see that all the PR coming out about the takeover was positive. Not an easy task, but the owners were old with no heir willing to carry on their heritage. Buffy’s cousin, who was in charge of this particular project, had promised that the name would stay as would their employees and commitment to quality.

One thing anyone could say about Summers, Inc, was that they always kept their word.

"What do you think? Will anyone object?"

And so the next hour went on like that, Buffy asking questions that had no verbal reply but that she knew the answers to all the same. She didn’t find it odd; it was something she had gotten used to long ago, that first weekend they had spent together. And she didn’t mention her feeling – certainty – that she may have fallen in love with him.

The sounds from below lessened gradually and finally all was quiet in the house. The second the last car pulled out of the driveway Buffy turned from her perch at the window and eagerly went into the waiting arms of her lover.

Over the previous weeks they had discovered the limits of their lovemaking. Whereas at first Buffy could only feel him, now she could touch him. It wasn’t a lot, their tactile contact was still limited in both duration and occasion; meaning that they couldn’t make it happen anytime they wanted it was a hit or miss sort of thing. But Buffy kept trying, wanting that much more out of her lover.

But tonight was different.

Buffy felt herself being laid gently on the bed; his lips tasting hers, roaming over flesh that heated under his cool touch. Her eyes drifted closed as they so often did, and her hands clenched into the bedding beneath her. His hands journeyed her body as if for the first time though he had long ago memorized every curve and hollow.

Sighing his name, Buffy arched her hips higher silently begging for more, for…her eyes flew opened when she felt his hard length slip into her. Still, she couldn’t see him but she could now feel him, all of him.

Oh, it was wonderful, to feel his weight on her, his erection moving in and out of her heat, feel his desire and know that he wanted this as much as she did. Meeting him thrust for thrust, Buffy allowed her eyes to drift closed once more and her hands to wander up and touch him, clasping him closer to her, savoring every delicious sensation the joining of their bodies created.

Her climax approached and she felt his long fingers glide down her body to flick over her sensitive clit. With a shout of his name she convulsed around him, clenching her inner walls tighter as she felt his own release overtake him as he joined her.

Long, long moments later Buffy still lay on the bed, too sated to move much less think about what had just happened. Feeling him roll off her only to pull her to him, Buffy curled onto the lover she could now feel, now touch, and drifted off into a sated sleep. A sleep that didn’t last long; just long enough to recover from their first non-oral sexual encounter.

She awoke to feel him moving inside her once again, slowly, leisurely as her first orgasm gently washed over her. His name fell from her lips, a soft, "Liam," before she increased the pace.
**********
Where was she?

It was long past the time she should have joined him, Riley thought as he paced. They had made these plans months ago, and he had called just the other day to reconfirm. Buffy had been distant true, agreeing with everything he said and even repeating it when he had accused her of not paying attention to him.

This wasn’t the first time she had done something like this in the last few weeks, in fact it was getting to be a more common occurrence than he would have liked. Riley could understand her obsession with the house: it was perfectly understandable; he could see how she’d want everything her way. And he knew that work had been hectic, she always had dozens of projects going on all at once…

That was something else that bothered him. Last week he had gone to take her to lunch, surprising her and trying to reconnect with her after the weeks of missing each other and canceling dates…only she hadn’t been there. Janice, Buffy’ secretary, had told him she wasn’t in, but had either refused to say or hadn’t known were she had gone.

So where was she now? Maybe she was sick, there was a late spring bug going around, maybe she was just not feeling well. So why hadn’t she called him? Digging out his cell phone, Riley pressed the memory button for her house line and waited.

The voice mail picked up the first two times, but he dutifully left messages anyway. The third time he called, hitting redial almost before the phone had reset, he finally heard her voice.

"H’lo?" She sounded out of breath.

Instantly his worry increased, "Buffy? Honey, are you all right? You were supposed to meet me at Max’s tonight, we’re celebrating Xander and Anya’s anniversary, remember?"

Her voice still sounded lazy, out of it, "Riley? Oh, I’m so sorry…I’m not feeling well, I," she covered the mouthpiece for a moment so he couldn’t hear her hiss of satisfaction as Liam’s mouth covered a hardened nipple. "I’m sorry, sneeze. I just can’t make it tonight, Riley, I’m so sorry. Tell Xander and Anya that I’ll make it up to them once I’m feeling better."

"Do you want me to come over?" She really sounded sick, like she couldn’t catch her breath; maybe she was feverish?

"No, no, I’m just going to drink lots of juice and go to sleep early, I’m hoping that’ll stop whatever I have." The mouthpiece was covered again and when Buffy’s voice floated back over the line, she said, "Riley, I’m going to go now, talking makes me cough. I’m sorry, tell the guys I’m sorry, too, and I’ll see them soon."

Buffy barely heard Riley’s reply before slamming the off button, tossing the phone away, and clutching her invisible lover closer to her. The phone had rang just as Buffy was recovering from the most exquisite orgasm she had ever experienced – though she often thought that – and she had answered it absently, not realizing what she was doing.

The moment she had said Riley’s name, Liam had attacked her sensitive skin with his tongue and teeth, building her up to another peak while she had tried to have some semblance of a normal conversation.

She had no idea if she had pulled off the normal conversation part, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as Liam thrust inside of her. He seemed angry – jealous? – and Buffy couldn’t help but think that it added something to their lovemaking. An edge that made her crave more.

But Liam made her crave him all the time.

Faster and harder and more he gave her, running his tongue over her neck, swirling in her ear, his hands flipped her over and he pounded into her from behind as that clever tongue of his licked a trail from the base of her neck down her spine. Buffy felt herself coiling tighter, reaching for that crest she knew she’d find only with him and couldn’t stop the growl, the shout, of need and lust as his fingers found her swollen clit and he sent her flying over the edge, climaxing moments after her.

Buffy collapsed onto the bed, struggling for breath and wondering where this sense of abandonment had come from. Over the past months, she had discovered a wild streak that would have shocked her had she not been enjoying herself so very much. At first it was just Liam pleasuring her, teaching her new heights to her passion. Then it was actual intercourse, the feel of him, the weight, the almost there solidness that should have shocked her since she still couldn’t see him.

Then again this whole thing should have shocked her but Buffy didn’t care.

It made everything more real and that made everything so much better. They had begun to experiment. It was difficult at first, what with him being invisible, but if Buffy closed her eyes, listened to the tingling running along her skin, she could sense everything about him. She could feel him, in her, on her, around her, and while she couldn’t feel his skin, the physical proof of him, that didn’t stop her from exploring the limits of what they could do.

And they could do a lot.

But now, as she felt his weight, real and solid, roll off her, Buffy was struck with a momentary loss of the contact and whimpered. In the next instant she was scooped against his chest and held there, as gently as a baby. Her fear from a few weeks ago wasn’t present any longer…she wasn’t afraid of falling in love with him, she knew for a fact that she already had.

Now, her fear was that he didn’t love her back.

She could ask him, she supposed, but something like this needed to be done face to face. And possibly with words actually issuing from his mouth. If she couldn’t see his face, his reaction, hear his voice, then Buffy was afraid he could lie to her just to appease her feelings.

But that was a thought for another time. Now, as she drifted off to sleep, sated for the moment in the arms of her lover, Buffy thought of nothing but him and them…and so she dreamed again.
~~~~~~~~~
The little dark haired boy chased the blonde girl across a grassy knoll, laughing with her as they flew over the ground, young and carefree, not yet burdened with the responsibilities of adulthood. At the top of the hill the girl stopped, waited for her purser before flopping down on her back to stare at the bright blue sky.

Joining her on the ground where she positioned her head across his abdomen, the boy clasped her hand in his, equally an innocent and possessive gesture. Clouds rolled by at a languid pace and the two laughed as they pointed out shapes to one another, competing to see who could identify a scene first. Birds flew by, calling out to their mates in the distance, but the sounds never penetrated the veil of happiness and contentment that surrounded the children.

The sun crossed the sky in a fiery blaze of light and life and still the children did not move. They ate from a small basket, bread and chicken and fruit. Drank from some kind of container Buffy couldn’t identify and continued to watch the sky, enjoying each other’s company. In a shower of gold and crimson and purple the glowing orb set, leaving only the first stars visible to the two who had watched the day pass them without a care in the world.

And what cares should they have? They were children; young and cheerful, happiest when they were together away from disapproving adults who couldn’t understand the protectiveness they exuded towards each other. Slowly, knowing that their time together for this day was near an end, they stood, still hand in hand, and walked down the hill, back to their respective homes.

There was tomorrow and the day after and all the days after that they could spend together. And spend them together they planned, forever. Laughing, running, talking, there were all kinds of things they wanted to do…together.

The boy walked the girl to the front of her door, waiting as the butler frowned more in worry than disapproval though he seemed to like the children together. She grinned at him kissing his cheek and promising to spend the day with him again tomorrow. He was whistling through the gap left by a missing tooth as he turned from the closed door.

Walking back to his own residence, the boy couldn’t help the silly grin that spread across his face. What more could he want? He had her, and life was young and filled with possibilities.
~~~~~~~~~
Dreams about Liam’s past came infrequently and at first Buffy thought that he had sent her the scenes to fill in what he could not tell her.

But now, as she lay in her oversized bathtub, steam drifting in curling tendrils towards the ceiling, washing away her first full day at work in weeks, Buffy thought that maybe that wasn’t the case. She had no idea what the case was, but there was a familiarity about what she dreamt that haunted Buffy almost as much as being away from her lover did.

Her work was seriously slipping and Buffy had been forced to stay there for the whole day though she accomplished little. This addiction she had to Liam worried her when she bothered to think about it; how she couldn’t get enough of him, how she brushed off work and friends and family to be with him. It had been suggested that she take an extended vacation, get over whatever was ailing her, some sick leave because that had been her excuse so often these past weeks.

Buffy had agreed all the while thinking that it was the perfect reason to spend more time with her phantom lover. So she had stayed until six this evening tying up whatever loose ends she could think of and promising Janice that she’d see a doctor. Racing home, she found her lover waiting for her, a bath being drawn, dinner prepared, a glass of wine poured, and most importantly…him.

He was leaning over the edge of the bathtub, allowing his hands to drift over her heated skin as Buffy leaned back against the bath pillow, sighing in contentment. How had he known she needed this? But he always knew, somehow, he just always did.

The first soft orgasm washed over her and Buffy arched her hips in invitation for more. It was a slow night, made for love and romance and worship; after the water had cooled she was lifted out of the tub by invisible hands, toweled off by a large fluffy towel that looked like it was moving by itself. Carried to the bed where soft music drifted and candles added discreet scent and atmosphere.

Throughout the night he worshipped her body, showing her with his own how he adored her, how he wanted her. Over and over they came to completion, fast, slow, hard, soft, whatever the mood was they let it wash over them, dictating their actions. One orgasm slowly ebbed and another began.

And just as the sun was rising, just as the first birds sang their morning tune and the flowers opened to catch the first rays of light, Buffy cried out her lover’s name and opened her eyes…

To look directly into his own, a brown so deep as to be almost black in his passion for her.

It took long moments for the reality of the situation to sink in, for the fact that she was looking at her lover to penetrate the sexual haze surrounding her. So at first all she did was smile, reaching up with a hand to touch his face, trace the line of nose and jaw. The first skin on skin touch snapped her out of that haze and she bolted upright.

It was such a shock, actually seeing him there, lying on her bed naked…deliciously naked, all that smooth skin, those muscles…that at first Buffy couldn’t say anything. A high pitched squeak sounded from her lips but no understandable words as she clutched the long forgotten sheet – where she had found it she would never be able to remember – to her chest in a vain attempt at modesty.

The look on Liam’s face – for it could only be Liam – was confused as well. He, though, had no idea why she had suddenly bolted from their bed. And it was their bed, they shared it night after night, long lazy days and hot passionate moments; her scent clung to the sheets and if he breathed deeply enough, he could smell their combined essence.

He started to go to her, wondering wildly what could have set her off like that when she looked directly into his eyes and said, "Liam?"

That in and of itself wasn’t strange, she had long ago figured out his name, and in recent weeks he had grown more tangible. But she never looked into his eyes for she never knew where they were located. She knew where he lay or sat, where his body was as they made love, but her eyes, those beautiful green orbs, had never pierced his so directly.

What was going on here?

Buffy moved closer, inching across the several feet she had scrambled in her attempt to get away from this sudden apparition. He couldn’t be real, could he? Was her dream, her wish finally coming true? With shaking fingers Buffy reached out, intent on touching him once again. Pausing a bare inch from his face, Buffy swallowed in sudden nervousness and closed the distance.

He was real, solid, she could feel his skin, run her fingers through his hair and feel the bristles along her fingertips. When he let out a breath she could see the rise and fall of his chest, almost, almost hear the heartbeat. All but leaping the remaining space into his surprised arms, Buffy began to laugh.

"I can see you, Liam!"

As her mouth covered his, Buffy noticed the surprised look on his face but didn’t care. Her lover was real and solid and she pushed him back against the bed, intent on exploring every real and solid patch of skin she could find. And she intended to find it all. As her mouth raced over cheek and throat, across collarbone and chest, Buffy felt a tear run down her face: a tear of joy and happiness.

When she reached his erect cock, Buffy smiled again before taking its velvet length into her hot mouth, running tongue and scraping teeth over the sensitive tip, and still her lover had not said a word. As she crawled back up his still cool body, Buffy looked at him, really looked.

God, he was beautiful, light skin contrasting with dark hair and eyes, sensuous mouth and long straight nose, his hands gripped her hips, settling her over his erection and slamming her onto him, his moan – which she could also hear – mingling with her own. Rocking above him, Buffy couldn’t keep her hands off his body, stroking here, scraping nails there.

The explosion rocketed through her leaving her warm and limp over him as he found his own release, shouting her name. Buffy couldn’t help the smile that formed as she heard his voice, low and rich, a deep rumble that had found its way out in the form of her name. Curling atop him, and feeling it, really feeling his body under hers for the first time, Buffy drifted off to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~
Several hours later she snapped awake.

What had she done? She had cheated on her long time boyfriend, threw off work and friends, all for sex? It hadn’t seemed real until now, hadn’t seemed genuine until she saw him. Sure she had felt him, had felt all the things he had done to her, but she had never had the pleasure – and it had been more than pleasurable – of doing those things to him.

He was real.

His skin was cool, granted, but it was skin, his mouth wasn’t a fantasy she had conjured, his fingers solid as they coaxed her to pleasure time and time again, his cock was a wonderfully pleasant sensation of velvet and steel and flesh as it thrust in and out of her.

He was real.

And she had spent the past how many weeks, how many months sleeping with him?

Suddenly frightened of what she had done, of who she had turned into, Buffy rolled off the bed never once looking at the man still under, still inside, of her, and silently walked to the shower.

The hot water pounded down on her sensitive skin and Buffy couldn’t help the tears that flowed. What had she done?

The sex was wonderful, passionate and hard, soft and romantic, but it was just sex…no, it was making love; she had to believe that. Because she had allowed herself to fall in love with a man she had never met, one with whom she had never shared a two-way conversation and one she had never actually seen until a few hours ago.

She felt him move into the bathroom, open the shower curtain and watch her. Just watch her. The water pooling on the floor was ignored as was the steam rising around them. It was way too late for modesty, but Buffy had the insane desire to cover herself. Because now that he was real and standing right there, she realized that the past days – those wonderful interludes together – had been real, too.

"Are you coming in?" She asked, uncertain where that had come from, but not wanting this no longer fantasy to end.

"How can you see me?"

His voice washed over her, warming the places that were suddenly cold with her realization. How indeed? "I have no idea," she said, smiling as she looked directly into his confused eyes, "But I can, are you complaining?"

Liam stood there, droplets of water continuing to soak the bathmat as he did so. "No." But still he made no move to enter.

"So if you aren’t complaining, then are you joining me?"

"Yes," he said as he stepped in behind her, gasping in shock as the hot water flowed over his long dead skin. "How did this happen?" He asked again though since neither of them had the answer before he doubted they would this time.

Turning in his arms, kissing lips she could see and feel and taste…and taste, they tasted like dark chocolate, warm and mysterious. How could his mouth be so warm when he was so cool? Buffy smiled up at him and began to wash him.

They may not have had any answers, but they had now and they had each other. What more was there?

"You’re upset," He stated though neither had said a word except in passion in the hours since they discovered Buffy could see him. It was long after their first tactile shower together and they lay in bed now, curled under the comforter in each other’s arms. "Why?"

"Because you’re real," Which sounded absurd when said aloud so Buffy tried again. "No, that’s not what I meant. I love seeing you; you have no idea how much." Raising her head from its comfortable position on his chest to look at his handsome face, tracing angles and planes with her fingertips, she smiled and continued. "It’s just all so much, suddenly you’re here, real and solid and I can’t describe anything I’m feeling, I’m so overwhelmed."

His hands moved lightly over her back and Buffy shivered at the contact. "I was real before." His voice held nothing; it was just a simple statement that related his truth.

"I know. I do know this, but before it was…I couldn’t see you, I could feel you and the wonderful things you made my body experience." Grazing his lips with hers Buffy smiled into his eyes, loving the fact that she could see their color in more than her dreams. "Have I told you how addicted I am to you? Your body even when I couldn’t see it, the feel of you, your touch, each and every sensation?"

Liam shifted her on top of him and Buffy began to move over his body in a slow teasing motion. "I figured as much when you didn’t run away screaming that first time. And every time afterwards when you climaxed, screaming your completion…screaming my name."

His words were affecting her and they both knew it; they were affecting him as well. But things needed to be said before they indulged themselves again. "When you sensed my presence even though you could not see me; when you allowed me to do more than give you such pleasure, when we experienced it together. When I could do so I knew that it was because of you, not because of anything I did."

"Still, you initiated it, why?" It was something she had often wondered but until several short hours ago had been unable to ask.

Hands stilled on her hips, holding her against him; for a dead man her skin against his had him losing his train of thought. "Because you’re so beautiful and not just in the physical sense. Your soul shines through; you laugh and cry with passion, not caring who’s around. You’re kind to the workers here with no thought to yourself, you ask about their families, their children, wives and girlfriends. You listen to your friends and let them lean on you when they need to."

Liam’s hand found its way to her face, tracing the bones and curves there as if to memorize them…or maybe it was to reacquaint himself with them. He swallowed as he brought up what was sure to be a sore subject; he had effectively helped her to cheat on her lover. "You…care for your beau even when he’s preoccupied with something; you’re understanding and compassionate."

Buffy’s eyes had filled with a glimmer of tears. No one, except her Uncle Giles, had ever spoken to her that way. Straight from the heart and straight to her soul. Recognizing things that she had never told anyone because she had always thought that her friends and lovers should just know without her saying. As for Riley…when it was hard to even picture the man’s face safely cocooned in Liam’s arms, Buffy knew that whatever was between them hadn’t been nearly as intense, as right, as it was between her and Liam.

"Thank you," she whispered, touching his lips again.

"For what?"

"Knowing things about me that I didn’t have to tell you. Knowing me when we’ve hardly had a conversation that qualifies as one."

Liam’s hands tangled themselves in her hair, drawing the long heavy locks away from her face. There was so much that he needed to tell her so much that she needed to know. Buffy had told him a little of her dreams, the fragments that told her of his past. She always wondered who the girl, the woman, she could not see was the one who spent so much time with him and until now he could not tell her. Should he now?

No, it was too soon, there were other things that needed to be revealed first. Liam was sure; well almost sure, that she felt for him the way he did – the way he always had – for her.

Still staring into her crystal green eyes, he said, "I love you, Buffy." And waited, wondering if he could disappear from her life should she reject him, to see her reaction. How was it possible that, even dead, he could feel so much?

Catching her breath, Buffy stilled for a moment close to forever. He loved her…shock covered her face for a brief instant before a dazzling smile blossomed. "I love you, too, Liam," And leaned down to capture his lips, even now so cool to the touch.

Deepening the contact, Buffy straddled his hips, reaching down to caress his hardening cock. Never breaking with her lips, he untangled one hand from her hair to fondle her breast, pinching the nipples, stroking her ribs, combing through the curls before entering her heat. Gasping into his mouth, Buffy guided him into her waiting body.

Whatever else they had to discuss, whatever happened in the future, this was all the truth she needed. This feeling between them, this emotion. It blazed around them, threatening to consume them both with its fierceness and sheer intensity. As their passion built higher, as peaks were sought and reached, tumbled over to soar through a haze of need, Buffy knew that Liam was all she would ever want, ever again.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Liam lay on the bed watching his love sleep. As a ghost, he didn’t need that human necessity and had spent hours just watching her: the way she moved when she dreamed, how she curled under the blankets on chilly mornings, or how she cuddled closer to him even when she couldn’t see him.

He did love her, truly, absolutely, with everything he was and everything he had ever hoped to be. He loved her forever and had promised eternity, promised until the end of time. Time hadn’t ended, forever hadn’t been reached; death had come knocking too soon, taking her away from him, destroying him slowly, painfully.

Death had consumed him so completely that even with his own he could not find peace. Liam had sworn, with his last breath to find his love again, to find her and never leave her side. He had forsaken everything but her, but their love, their promises to each other. As such he had been trapped in a limbo plane, never allowed to find her, never allowed to find the peace he sought with her.

He wept, cursed, raged, for years, never giving up the slim chance that they could once again be together. He had seen his beloved house fall into disrepair only to be built back up again, owners changed, moved on, left, but he had remained constant. All in the hope that one day he would find her again.

When she had bought the house so many nights ago, he had known his wish, dream, hope had finally been granted. When she couldn’t see him, Liam had fallen into despair again. But he could not stay away, drawn to her time and again as he had been when they were children.

And she had responded to him as she always had, willingly, completely, with her whole being, her whole soul. The lover was forgotten in the wake of this, Liam had drawn her again to his side, and this time he vowed that nothing could separate them.

He had forgotten one vital point.

He was dead, a ghost set to walk the earth for eternity and she was very much alive. Even now, in sleep, Buffy’s heat burned him, drew him in and comforted him. Had he done the right thing? Yes, he had to believe that. And he wouldn’t change anything that had happened between them, ever.

She deserved the truth, all of it. He did love her, he loved her so completely that when she had been taken from him he had lost the will to live. She deserved to know that in a previous life they had loved and vowed forever. But if he told her, would he lose her?

Initially he had thought no, he wouldn’t, of course he wouldn’t lose the one thing in this world, in any world, that meant so very much to him. She would understand. But the more they talked, or rather the more she had talked to him, telling him of her day, her life, her routine, he began to realize that while Buffy was essentially the same as his Julianna, she was so different, too.

Liam knew, as Buffy opened her eyes, smiling into his and wrapping herself around his body, that he loved her no matter what, the whole her, everything about her. He loved both the new her, Buffy, as well as the old, his Julianna.

But how to explain it?
~~~~~~~~
"So, now that you’re all visible and everything, what do you plan on doing?"

It was several days after Liam’s original appearance and Buffy had yet to leave the comfort of her house. The workers still showed every day, working on whatever she had planned in the main rooms, but Buffy confined herself to her bedroom. She had told them that she was taking a few days off to set things up in the finished parts of the house.

Liam had agreed not to venture out of the room when the house was occupied; neither of them wanted anyone to see him just yet. It was partly because they didn’t want to have to deal with the gossip that was sure to run rampant once it was known that Buffy had been having an affair with a ghost when she had been cutting work – if anyone actually believed that of course. And partly because they both wanted to keep everything a secret to indulge themselves in their love a bit more.

Besides, what would they tell people? A ghost lover wasn’t exactly a common – or accepted or really a heard of – thing. Too many unknown answers to other’s logical questions. But when it came to Buffy and love, the logical was unnecessary; all she knew, all she wanted, was Liam…and that was enough for her.

At night, when everyone left, that’s what she and Liam did, built a home out of a house they both loved. But during the daylight working hours, they spent their time together; talking, getting to know each other, making love and experimenting there, too. The wild streak Buffy hadn’t been shocked to discover had expanded and now included any stray thought regarding sexual positions she could think of.

If she had heard of it, even once, she was willing to try it. Of course Liam was more than willing and seemed to know a great deal about it. Though jealously burned through her at the thought of him with another, she couldn’t fault the experience he had accumulated.

She had laughed one day as they had almost fallen off the bed in their energetic coupling. "I never saw myself so willing to try out so many new positions. I never was before." She had paused, trying to catch her breath. "I guess this just means that I trust you, absolutely."

Liam had smiled, eventually rolling them over so he didn’t crush her with his weight. "I love you, Buffy. And," he said, stroking her sweaty hair off her face, "You have no idea what it means to me that you trust me this much. Or that you love me."

Now, as the sat on the window seat and watched the setting sun through the large bay window, Buffy broached the subject she had been avoiding for days now. "I have to get back to work. I’ve been slacking so much these past months that I’m surprised I have a job to get back to."

Tightening his arms around her waist, Liam almost asked her not to go. But he didn’t, trusting her. It was irrational this thought that once she was gone from his side that she would never return; too many years of feeling sorry for himself of being alone, and mourning his lost love.

"When?" Was all he asked, though he knew she could sense he wanted to say more.

Buffy did. He didn’t say anything, but for a ghost his body language was pretty readable: to her at least. Turning in his arms and sliding a leg across to sit on his lap, Buffy forced Liam to look at her.

"Liam, baby, what’s wrong? You know that I have to do this, as much as I’d love to, and as pleasurable as it’s been spending all day every day with you, I have to get back. I have responsibilities there that I’ve neglected long enough."

He didn’t say anything, just nodded, his face a mask that told her nothing. But Buffy had learned enough about him to read that mask.

"Of course I’ll be back every night, and if you want to make dinner, then feel free…" She trailed off with a smile, enjoying how he waited on her, the gender role reversal. Her comment earned a chuckle and a soft kiss and she knew that whatever doubts he felt he couldn’t share with her, were laid to rest…for now, anyway.

The sun set the rest of the way without them.
~~~~~~~
Riley Finn was beyond worried.

He hadn’t seen or talked to Buffy in weeks, she wasn’t answering her phone, wasn’t at work, her secretary there had told him that she had taken some time off, sickness or something. But he didn’t have any of the answers to her many questions because he was entirely unaware what was going on in her life, let alone that she was sick.

So he took matters into his own hands and went to see her.

The workers were all gone for the day, no cars in the drive – Riley knew that Buffy kept her car in the garage – and the only light visible in the house blazed from the master bedroom. Using the key she had given him when she first bought the house, Riley let himself in. Guilt never entered his mind, for he was worried and, yes, angry that she had suddenly cut off all communication with him.

It didn’t make him feel any better that she had also done the same with most of their friends. Willow had told him just last week that Buffy seemed happy if a bit distracted and that she, Buffy, just needed time with her new obsession. He had accepted the answer then, but the more he thought on it the less he believed it.

Now, as he walked quietly up the grand staircase – quietly partly because he didn’t want her to know he was sneaking in, and partly because that’s just how it happened – Riley wondered what he’d find. His imagination had conjured up quite a bit of scenarios, but as he neared her closed door, her moaning in pleasure somehow wasn’t one of them.

"What?" He said it aloud, but his voice wasn’t working properly and it came out in a strangled whisper. Buffy, his Buffy, was having an affair? Peering into the room, all he saw was Buffy at the edge of an orgasm…his Buffy was masturbating?

Instantly hard, Riley didn’t think twice as he walked into the room. Sure enough, there she was, gripping the sheets of the bed, nipples erect, juices flowing out of her lithe little body, in the midst of an orgasm.

Screaming out in completion Buffy didn’t notice his presence…but Liam did. And he was not at all happy about that.

Riley, however, noticed only Buffy; but he didn’t notice that she had screamed out a name, the blood roaring through his veins blocking just about everything out. Almost in a daze, he walked over to the bed, intent simply on joining her, feeling her clamp around his hard shaft. He didn’t see anyone else in the room with her, so when the hit came, sending him flying across the room, he was completely unprepared for it.

The sound of a body crashing into the far wall jerked Buffy out of her sexual haze and she looked up, wondering what was happening. Just standing up was Riley, his jaw beginning to bruise and a bewildered look on his face.

"Buffy? What the hell just happened?"

Caught. Snagged, trapped, discovered…there was no getting out of it now, and truthfully she didn’t want to. She had dreaded telling Riley that it was over; but now, as he had walked in on her and Liam, Buffy supposed it was inevitable. Except he wasn’t accusing, wasn’t questioning her, he just looked…confused?

That couldn’t be right. What did he think was going on here with her screaming out another man’s name and said man standing right there a furious and down right intimidating look on his face?

Stalling as she tried to figure out what was going on and why Riley was looking directly at her, not glaring at Liam as she had thought would be the case when their affair was discovered, Buffy asked somewhat inanely, "Riley! What are you doing here?"

Still dazed, he walked a few paces to the bed where Buffy was trying to cover herself with the tangled sheet. "I was worried about you, I haven’t seen or heard from you in weeks, I went to your work and they said you weren’t feeling well and took some time off."

He took another step forward, only to be pummeled in the stomach by a force he couldn’t see. Stumbling several paces away from the naked vision on the bed, Riley asked again, looking around somewhat wildly, "Buffy, what’s going on?"

On? What was going on? Why was he asking her that when Liam was standing right there, delectably naked and looking angry enough to tear the other man into pieces? Why was Riley looking confused and not righteous in his anger? Why was he asking her questions that were obvious in their answers?

"On? What do you mean…on?"

Riley looked at her and tried to gauge her reactions. Something weird was going on but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Maybe she was embarrassed that she had been caught? That made sense, except then why had he distinctively felt a fist to his abdomen and his jaw was definitely bruising? Cautiously he walked a step, then two towards her. When no attack was forthcoming, he walked one more then stopped.

"Are you embarrassed, Buffy?" Riley kept his voice low, reassuring. "Did you not want anyone to know that you were getting yourself off?"

He had seen the house or parts of it, upon his arrival and knew that she had been decorating and unpacking some rooms. And this one was almost entirely completed from the looks of things. Maybe Willow was right. Maybe Buffy had been so intent on her house that she hadn’t been taking care of herself, had made herself sick, and truly did need some time to recover.

Since they hadn’t seen each other in months, she hadn’t been sexually satisfied, either.

Logically, it was possible that she had merely wanted that release and had seen to it herself.

Buffy looked at Liam, who was as confused as she, trying to come up with an answer – any kind of answer – to Riley’s questions. She couldn’t, it seemed her brain wasn’t working this evening. Liam had backed off once it became obvious that Riley was oblivious to his presence. It didn’t mean that he was at all happy with the way Riley was ogling his lover, but he backed off anyway.

In fact, now Liam was standing directly in front of Riley, waving a hand in his face, making funny faces at him, all to no avail. Trying to keep from laughing, Buffy looked to Riley, still not having any of the answers he wanted, and tried for calm.

"Riley, I’m really tired, and you…it’s late. And…and I’m really very tired. I have an early day tomorrow and I’m just…recovering from a small bout of something." Helplessly she looked to Liam, wondering if she was making any sense.

He shrugged and, wondering if Riley could hear him if he couldn’t see him, said, "Don’t look at me, I don’t know."

Buffy gave him a dirty look but Riley had heard none of Liam’s words. Turning back to her ex, though he was ignorant of this new status in their relationship, Buffy smiled and stood, wrapping the sheet around her body. She had to change them anyway; the bottle of wine had spilled earlier, soaking the unaware lovers who had continued exploring each other’s bodies, and the bedding.

"So I’ll call you, when I’m feeling 100%, and we’ll get together. I’m so sorry," Buffy continued as she quickly escorted him down the stairs and out the front door. "That I’ve been so…out of it. I’ve had so much on my mind and…well you know how it is."

Was she even making any sense? Buffy didn’t know or care, all she wanted was to get him out of her house and away from her. She cared for Riley, it was true, but she didn’t love him. Whatever they had together was over the first moment Liam had touched her.

"Right, so I’ll call you later." Buffy said and closed the door in his shocked face. Heaving a sigh of relief, Buffy turned around to find Liam, still naked and looking delicious even in his anger. Where, she wondered briefly, did his clothes go when he shed them?

"You’re angry," she stated, looking into his eyes and seeing the anger there. And something else, fear maybe? Crossing the tiled floor Buffy cupped his face in her hand, asking, "What’s wrong, baby?"

"How did he get in here, Buffy?"

"In here?" Buffy parroted, not having thought of that though the answer seemed simple enough now. "I gave him…" Damn. "I gave him a key, but it was months ago, before I even knew about you. I haven’t talked to him in such a long time that I forgot all about it, actually."

Liam stalked to her backwards to the door she had just shut in Riley’s face, "So being with me made you forget about him?"

"Yes," Buffy answered though that didn’t seem to be the response he was looking for.

He was inches away from her now and Buffy, back against the door, had to crane her neck to see his face. He really was much taller than her, towering over her in an intimidating kind of way though Buffy wasn’t scared so much as concerned. She was being honest with him, what more did he want?

"And when you’re back in his arms will you forget about me?"

Stunned Buffy could only stare into his volatile brown eyes. Why had she never noticed how they were flecked with gold? "His arms, what? Forget about you? What? I doubt I ever could," She answered honestly.

"You’ve permeated every inch of me," she continued, "Weaved your way inside my heart so intricately that I doubt, even if I never saw you again I could stop loving you. I’ve basically stopped my life because I want to be with you so much and I don’t regret a second of it.

Her hand drifted up to caress his face as she finished, "Do you know how much I want to spend the rest of my life with you? I want to grow old with you, have children and grandchildren, watch the sun rise every day and set every night from the comfort and safety of your arms."

Liam’s face had softened at her words, his heart bursting with the love he felt for this wonderful woman. How could he have ever doubted her? But he knew how: Liam was terrified – he always had been – that she would suddenly realize that he wasn’t everything to her as she was to him.

She loved him; he knew that. She may have told Riley she loved him and in a way maybe she had, but she belonged to him, Liam, absolutely and totally. He looked into her soft green eyes and could see himself reflected back, the tears shining and mirroring all the love and need she felt for him.

Sweeping her into his arms Liam carried her, sheet trailing, back to their bedroom. His lips never left hers, her hands never released their hold on him and they were damn lucky not to fall down the stairs and break their necks.

"I love you," he whispered as his mouth continued its pilgrimage over her skin, worshipping her with everything in him.

"And I love you, my beautiful angel…" Buffy said as the first soft wave of pleasure rolled over her.
***********
"So, no one can see you – or hear you for that matter. That could have potential."

They were lying on the bed wrapped around each other. The sun had just risen casting a warm glow on the two lovers, but Buffy was loathed to start her day. It was the last full day she’d spend with her lover…until the weekend of course. But considering they had more or less spent every waking hour together for the past however many days, it was going to be difficult.

Okay, so she was spoiled and addicted and in serious need of mental help.

"Potential?"

"Yeah, imagine. You can spy or, or, something and no one but me can see you. It’s like I have my own private lover." She turned in his arms, smiling up at his grinning contance.

"Don’t you already have that, love?"

Laughing, Buffy agreed. "Well, yes, but it’s still cool. Sometimes, when I was younger, I really wanted to be invisible. My family wasn’t exactly the most loving and attentive, other than Uncle Giles, of course. And they would argue over everything, always trying to catch someone off guard."

Liam held her closer as she trailed off. He knew a little of what her so-called family life was like, the coldness that permeated what should have been a warm and caring family. He mourned for her, mourned the fact that he couldn’t be there for her when she needed him the most during those times.

"I know, love, I know." Kissing her gently, Liam disentangled himself from the bed and pulled her with him. "Come on, you have to get to work. Want me to wash your back?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively, causing her smile to return and the air of unhappiness to dispel from her eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~
Riley Finn was not, by nature, a suspicious man.

When someone told him something, he generally believed them. When Buffy finally said she loved him, he believed her; when she said she was sick he believed that, too. But when she pushed him out of her house all he believed was that she was lying to him.

But what was she lying to him about?

He wasn’t a sneaky man; Riley disliked lies, preferred openness and tried for honesty at all times – it didn’t always work but he tried. He was looked up to as an honest man and tried hard to be one. He loved Buffy and wanted to make a life with her but now…now it didn’t seem like that was going to happen.

Was she hiding something from him?

Obviously, that much was clear.

But what? An affair? He hadn’t seen anyone else there but he…supposed that the man could have hidden…someplace. Riley had no idea where, but there was also the fact that he had a large purple bruise on his jaw and several of his ribs ached as if punched.

So it was that he found himself entering Buffy’s house in the middle of the day when he knew she was at work because he had just called her and asked her to lunch. She had declined, politely and firmly, but he had talked to her on the office phone so he knew that she wouldn’t be home anytime soon.

Using the key she had given him, and hadn’t asked for back last night as she was busy pushing out him out of her house, Riley walked into the construction zone. A few of the workers recognized him but many were new. A lot of changes had happened over the months he had been out of Buffy’s life and he took a moment to look at those changes.

The living and dining rooms were completed but were still covered with tarps to keep the dust from other rooms off the furniture. The kitchen was just about finished and the view to the back gardens was absolutely stunning. Flowers bloomed in spectacular color, catching the noonday sun.

But there was no sign of anyone living there except Buffy.

Walking up to her bedroom Riley looked at the décor. Still nothing to indicate that she was sharing her life with another. The walls were painted in darker hues than he would have thought fit Buffy, even though he had helped her to do so, but she had always had eclectic tastes. A large landscape painting adorned one wall but he couldn’t identify either the rugged place or the artist’s name scribbled in the corner.

It was as neat as she had always been; there was nothing out of place that he could recognize.

Clothes were lined up, as he knew she always had, business pants separated from casual separated from suits. Sweaters were separated from her blouses – all silk naturally – and long and short blazers. The bathroom held only her things as well, there were no men’s clothing, no signs whatsoever that there was anyone other than Buffy living in the house.

The bed was neatly made and he could smell her perfume lingering in the air. It was mixed with something else, something he couldn’t identify, but Riley chalked it up to the various things being done in the rest of the house.

Maybe he really was losing it. Maybe she had been telling him the truth. Maybe he should just believe her.

Riley walked out of the house, shouting his farewell’s to several of the workers, wondering if he should believe her. And wondering why she would to lie to him.
~~~~~~~~
Liam watched as his love’s ex walked out of the house, glad that no one but Buffy could see him. Made keeping an eye on things and people that much easier. So the ex was suspicious. Well, Liam supposed, he hadn’t given Riley a reason to trust anything that the other man had or had not seen the previous night.

He debated telling Buffy that Riley was spying on her but decided against it. It wasn’t his place and it’d only look like he was telling her so to sway her trust and affection away from Riley. Which Liam really, really wanted to do but knew it wasn’t the way.

She said she loved him, Liam reflected as he went back to her rooms to watch the day, read ‘The Odyssey’ again and await her return home. He believed her when she said those magical three words; he knew in his heart, in his very soul, that she felt for him what he did for her. And because of that he should tell her of their past.

Maybe he would…tomorrow.

Buffy raced home as fast as traffic would allow. It wasn’t, she tried to tell herself, because she missed Liam. No, it was because she was tired from being at work all day, she wanted to be home in her own house and…yeah, herself wasn’t buying it either.

"Okay," she said as she rounded the corner to her street. "So I’m seriously addicted to him. I’m in love with a ghost. I’m in love with a ghost…I must be losing my mind."

The workers had already left for the day by the time she pulled into her long driveway, parking in the garage and walking through to the house. Liam greeted her the moment she opened the door, sweeping her into his arms and settling his mouth over hers.

"Missed you, love," he said as he slammed her against the wall, not bothering with any more words.

Crushing her lips under his, Liam began to show her just how much.
~~~~~~~~~~~
It was three days later that it happened.

For a hundred and something years he had watched the world pass him by and never once did he think anything of it. He had watched things change, the world, his country, his house, and never once did he care.

Now he was bored.

He wanted Buffy and not just in the sexual way though that was certainly an ever present need, a constant ache for her. He missed her presence, her laughter; her stories throughout the day as they watched the world open before them. Her warm breath on his chest as she slept after they spent the day or night making love and her sweet smile in the morning when she had yet to open her eyes but knew he was there watching her.

So he followed her to work one day, with the full intention of simply being near to her. Observing her movements and workday, keeping as much out of her sight as he could knowing that only she could see him. He watched her as she went through her mail, returned messages and listened to employees. He didn’t care what she was saying, only wanted to hear the sound of her voice.

Liam didn’t realize that she knew he was there the moment he entered her floor.

Buffy ignored him the best she could, not looking in his direction though that was incredibly hard. She tried to concentrate on her surroundings and her work, which she had been slacking on for entirely too long. Her late afternoon meeting was her downfall.

It was during that meeting that she finally gave in and watched him. He was wandering around the room, looking over everyone’s shoulder as they took notes or, more likely, doodled on their papers. She saw Liam smile once before shaking his head and moving onto the next person.

Buffy wonder what they were writing.

Two of her junior executives were showing the latest idea on…something. Something to do with their new line of lingerie Buffy thought but couldn’t really remember as she watched Liam’s black pants mold ever so nicely over his hip and ass as he leaned further over a woman. The woman was wearing a low cut blouse, her cleavage all but falling out of the top, but Buffy knew he wasn’t looking down said blouse. He was frowning fiercely at whatever the woman was writing.

She’d have to ask him about it later.

Suddenly he looked up and locked eyes with her, a slow seductive smile crossing his handsome features. Damn the man, he knew she had been watching him. Buffy couldn’t stop the answering smile that formed but she quickly wiped it off her face and turned her attention – or at least her eyes – back to the presentation.

They prepared to start their PowerPoint show, not noticing how their boss’ attention was only half on them. Buffy really tried to concentrate and would later remember the gist of said show – there was a written report she had skimmed through earlier, after all – but Liam was stalking closer to her, the look in his eye clear for all to see. Luckily only she could see him.

Buffy’s first and last thought was ‘Thank God the lights were dimmed.’

The second they were she felt Liam’s hands on her silk clad thighs. She had a weakness for silk especially underwear and stockings and the feel of his long slender fingers caressing her legs was almost more than she could bear. Slowly, teasingly, up and down he went, tracing the barely there edges of her panties – she was planning on surprising him tonight – outlining shapes on her inner thigh.

Swallowing hard Buffy forced herself to focus on the presentation in front of her despite the tantalizing things Liam was doing to her body. And all he was really doing was touching her legs.

Then he blew lightly on her moist core and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning.

‘Not here, please, not here…oh, yes, RIGHT THERE!’ Buffy was suddenly lost in a whirlpool of sensation as Liam’s fingers dipped under the flimsy covering she wore and lightly teased the outer lips of her sex. Moistening two fingers, he rubbed her hardened clit, flicking at the sensitive nub, once, twice before pulling away.

A low growl escaped her when Liam pulled his fingers away but Buffy quickly turned it into a cough. Lifting her hips and blessing the fact that she her chair was rolled almost flush with the table, Buffy silently pleaded with Liam. He knew what she wanted, damn him, but still he teased. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Buffy tried again.

Acquiescing, Liam thrust his fingers into her. Clamping down both around his fingers as the pleasure built yet higher and on her lip to keep from screaming, Buffy braced her hands on the arms of her chair and tried to move. Liam placed his other hand on her stomach to keep her still while his pumped his fingers in and out of her slick heat.

Tongue to flesh he licked at her clit, circling it around and around as he built her higher, closer. He knew she was grinding her teeth and gripping the arms of her chair with enough force to leave indentations, but didn’t stop.

"That’s it, baby…come for me, darling," He said in that smooth husky voice of his, knowing that no one but her could hear him. Swiping his thumb over her clit once more, he continued moving his fingers in and out of her as her orgasm washed over her, crashing through whatever reservations she had about this rendezvous. Removing his fingers as the feelings slowly receded Liam licked them clean before doing the same to her.

Buffy couldn’t breathe. Her heart was racing and her fingers were going to be permanently curled around the chair arms. Her lip was bleeding and her jaw hurt from the force of her grinding teeth.

And the presentation was almost over.

But Liam wasn’t done.

His lips trailed over her thighs, tongue making the most erotic circles through the silk, up her hip, under her bunched up skirt – she’d have to fix that in a minute, yes, it would be just a minute now. Hands cupped her breasts, tugging at the nipples through the shirt until they stood out against the material. Over shoulders and arms around her back to hold her neck close to him as he kissed her clavicle, her throat, her cheek and jaw, nibbling along to tease her mouth before pulling away just as the lights came up.

Buffy couldn’t believe it; he had aroused her in no time flat and wasn’t even going to finish because their time had just run out. Damn man, how did he know these things? Everyone was looking at her to critique the new advertising campaign but Buffy couldn’t put two thoughts together. Or two English sounding coherent words for that matter.

For a brief moment she seriously entertained the notion that walking swiftly out of the room – running wasn’t an option – and citing a resurgence of the fever everyone seemed to think she had had these past weeks as the way to go. But no, she would not let herself be ruled by a little unfulfilled lust. Again. Coughing violently, Buffy drank deeply from her glass of water as Liam lifted her hips slightly and straightened her skirt and turned to the two presenters.

"Nice, job guys, give me a couple of days to look over the material and we’ll formulate a final plan." There, it was said, she could, conceivably, walk out of the room now and no one would ever notice. But she didn’t.

"Now, any comments, suggestions, changes, or new business?"

Liam had to admire her; for the next twenty minutes the group of seven talked about marketing this and marketing that, changes to several ideas and all through it Buffy remained focused though her fingers refused to uncurl from the fists she rested on the table. She was still flushed and her breathing was a little rushed, but she went on with the meeting.

He couldn’t wait until they got home…
~~~~~~~~~
"I can’t believe you!" Buffy said, whirling to face her grinning lover. "You walked into my office, stalked me all day, and, in the middle of my meeting mind, you, you…" She couldn’t finish she was so worked up. And frustrated.

Once the meeting was over Liam had been gone. As unobtrusively as possible Buffy tried to find him, but he had left the building. So she was forced to wait until she screeched to a halt in the garage and stormed through to the house to confront him. And now she was caught between anger and lust and couldn’t get the words out.

"Damn it, Liam, the least you could have done was finished the job!"

Unrepentant, Liam grinned at her. "You wanted me to finish with the light on and everyone watching?"

"Bastard," she grumbled and walked into the kitchen in search of food though she was more angry than hungry. And she was extremely angry with him, but that cute grin on his face, the unapologetic tone…the fact that she wanted him to finish what he had started earlier…it was weakening her. Which made her all the more angry as she didn’t want to be weak.

Damn it, it was all his fault anyway.

"So then what are you mad about? The fact that you enjoyed it or the fact that it was public?" Liam asked following her into the kitchen and trying to figure her out.

"I don’t know!" She shouted back at him, desperately trying to figure out her own feelings. Was it because this wasn’t a normal relationship and he could do things like that and no one would ever know? Or was it because she was embarrassed over something she more than thoroughly enjoyed and that no one even suspected?

Both were the likely answer though Buffy didn’t understand that, either.

"All I know is that when I’m with you everything else falls away. You’re the only one there, the only one I see and feel and touch. Liam, you’re the only one I want. If I could, I’d spend all my days and nights here, with you. Talking, touching, tasting, just being with you. Oh, after the first fifty years or so that’d probably get old and I’d want to see the outside world," She said, trying for flippant and only partly succeeding, "But I’d always come back to you."

She walked the few paces separating them, taking his hands in one of hers, caressing his face with the other. "I love you, more than I ever thought it possible to love another. I have so many feelings inside of me for you that I don’t know where one ends and another begins; they’re all just there, all the time, all for you."

Liam leaned down, just touching his lips to hers. "I know the feeling. I love you so much that I don’t care about anything or anyone else. You are everything to me, Buffy, you are my everything."

He swept her up into his strong arms, cradling her close as his lips brushed hers, her cheek, the slope of nose, the arch of an eyebrow. Carrying her through the house to lay her gently on their bed.

"Let me show you how much you mean to me, how much I love you, how much I need you." Liam whispered to her, his hands already roaming well loved curves.

He wanted…needed this last night with her for tomorrow he planned on telling her about his past. Answer all her questions about him and her dreams about them. And in so telling, knew that he might lose her.

So tonight it was only the two of them and their love. There was no past, no future, no present outside of each other. A sigh of a name, the warm breath across muscle and sinew and the soft caress of a lover.

Liam spent the whole of the night worshipping her, loving her, completing their bodies time and again. Whispered words of love, sighs of more, slower and slower still before giving into passion and exploding in a blinding array of light and sound and all.

And finally, when he let her rest, when he watched her beautiful green eyes drift close and her soft breath tickle his skin on his name, "Liam, my angel," Liam curled tightly around her, keeping her safe and protected within the walls of his arm, of his love.
***********
Hands clasped tightly behind his back, Liam looked out of the bedroom window, staring blindly at the beautiful night expanse set before him unmindful of his nudity. His body had never shamed him and beside, no one could see him anyway, what difference did it make? The sight before him had always intrigued him, the far odd lights that winked in and out, the stretch of city, ever changing, and closer. The gardens, his own land, his own yard; their land, their yard.

Buffy lay curled onto her side, a single sheet covering her. Usually she curled into him, seeking warmth though he emitted none, seeking safety in his arms though only she could see and feel them. His gaze traveled slowly over her, memorizing curves and valleys, the jut of hip bone and the soft curve of belly.

He loved her.

Absolutely, completely, with everything he was and could ever hope to be. He loved her and when he told her what he needed to, what he should have too long ago, chances were quite high that she’d hate him. Would she leave, he wondered, selling the house and finding someplace else to lead her life? Or would she force him to, evicting him, exorcizing him from the house he loved and the woman he worshipped?

The sun peaked over the horizon, casting its first rays upon a still sleeping land. Turning away from the view that had nothing to offer him, no answers to his many questions, no hope, Liam flicked on the bedside lamp. Settling against the headboard, he watched Buffy for a few more precious moments, easing the sheet away to better see her.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his hand just tracing her body’s shape. "I love you, my beautiful Buffy. I just hope that you can one day forgive me."

Placing his hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her awake, Liam watched her expressive eyes open. The green was hazy from sleep and sex, sated, but focused immediately on him, lightening at the sight of her lover.

"Hmm, Liam," she murmured as her eyes drifted closed and she rolled until she was once more beside him.

Liam closed his eyes tightly, the lance of pain shooting through him almost too much. For one brief second he thought of simply not saying anything of letting things continue as they were. But he couldn’t do that to her, she needed the truth…he needed to tell the truth.

"Buffy, baby, wake up love. We need to talk."

Again her eyes opened, focusing on him and she smiled. It was a sweet, trusting smile, full of love and tenderness that he had only ever seen grace her face when they were together. Her hand drifted up to cover his thigh, squeezing gently at the touch. "What?"

"I need to talk to you, love. I need to tell you…things."

Buffy forced herself fully awake at the tone of his voice, there was something there that she had never heard before and it sent a fission of apprehension through her.

"What is it, Liam?" She sat up fully, leaving the sheet to pool around her waist. "You can tell me anything, you know that."

Not that he had, not a lot at least. His past, while he always answered her questions about his life before her, he never voluntarily opened up about anything. Anything personal anyway.

Forcing himself to begin, he pulled his hand away from her warm, loving grasp, trying to distance himself as much as possible on the bed. He saw the shocked and hurt look pass over Buffy’s face but did nothing to ease her pain though his own heart broke at his actions. He didn’t know how to do so. When the words finally did flow, his voice was dead, there was no inflection whatsoever.

"You know that I was married, before. No, let me start earlier. My father wasn’t exactly a loving man; he was very interested in making a name for himself and in leaving behind all the poverty that he had been born into. To be Irish in those days carried a certain stigma, but that didn’t stop him, he gambled, cheated, worked hard, anything that would bring him higher in society. When California fully opened to settlement, he jumped at the chance.

"He had several successful and influential friends with whom he invested in various things, and not a little money. He met my mother and wanted her. I know, in his own way, he loved her, but it never transferred to his offspring. I was the only child, and a son, so that was something at least, an heir to carry on the family name and tradition.

"We had a neighbor, a happy family; I don’t really know much about them other than their daughter. Their youngest daughter I should say. They had two, and a boy. I know they were happy and never minded when I stopped by, came for dinner, whatever. But the girl, Julianna, she was…she was the baby of the family, she got away with everything the older siblings didn’t, and she was outgoing and vivacious and smart. And she loved me.

"There was an old wise woman who lived in the hills just east of here, sometimes we visited her, she knew the best stories. Anyway, she told us that our souls were bound. We were born on the same night, within hours of each other. It was a crescent moon and the sky was clear, there was nothing really special about that night except that both Julianna and I were born then, but still she talked. No one paid her much mind; they thought it was…nice that we played together. Our families were both rich and powerful and any marriage between us would only increase that power and wealth. That all changed.

"When they saw how inseparable we were my father tried to send me off East for a proper ‘education’ I was only fifteen at the time. Despite the fact that they wanted a marriage between our families, they thought it best for me to marry the middle girl, Faith who was about a year older than Julianna, when they saw, what they termed, the ‘unnatural the connection’ Julianna and I had together.

"It didn’t work, he sent me off, Julianna stayed here, but our connection was as strong as it ever was. I returned two years later and it was as if we had never separated. My mother had died when I was young and my father had no real interest in me until I returned and could manage the family business. Faith’s and my marriage was expected, for we had long ago been betrothed, but still they – my father and Julianna’s parents – underestimated our love.

"Faith cooperated in an indirect way by running off with an Englishman of middling stature, he was a merchant, though I think he was involved in smuggling as well, and considered lower than our families. But, they married and seemed happy enough for her parents to finally accept him though the scandal was talked about for years later. Faith," he laughed, remembering the spirited brunette, "Loved it; she was such an unconventional girl."

"Naturally the betrothal was off but our families still got what they wanted, Julianna and I were married six months after Faith’s elopement."

Liam stopped, gauging her reaction but other than the hurt he could feel from her at the distance he had put between them in their own bed, there was nothing but an avid interest in his story. He couldn’t stop his hand as it reached out to cup her face, thumb tracing the curve of cheekbone for all too brief a moment.

"Are you telling me this," Buffy asked in such a calm voice that it surprised even her, "Because you don’t love me as much as you do her?" On the word ‘love’ her voice cracked but otherwise showed no intonation whatsoever.

"No, beloved," Liam hastily assured her, "Never. I’m telling you this…I’m telling you this because…because there’s more."

He forced himself to stand up, walk away from the bed and gather the box he had earlier retrieved. It had been hidden in the library fireplace for over a hundred years, a secret compartment he had had built for essential papers. At the time, Liam never envisioned he’d use it for all that remained of his beloved wife.

"You should look through these papers, Buffy. They explain things much more clearly than I ever could."

But, Buffy didn’t open the beautifully carved wood box he lay before her, instead catching his gaze. "I know that you must have loved her deeply, Liam. I’ve read about ghosts and from what little you’ve said about your…w-wife I would have to be a fool to think otherwise. I know from my dreams that you had a difficult childhood, that she was your beacon in the darkness. I know all this and I don’t care about the past."

For one brief joy-filled moment Liam thought that everything he’d ever wanted had just come true. She had accepted him even not knowing his history, loved him despite the fact that he hadn’t been completely honest with her. She loved him unconditionally…she loved him.

But, the smile that graced his face was sad, wistful. "Look through the box, love. Then we’ll talk more." And with that he stood, leaving the room.

Buffy trembled with anticipation, fear, longing. She really didn’t want to open that box, would have given just about anything to not have to look through the contents and see what had her Liam, her angel, so forlorn and…hopeless. Her hands shook as she lifted the lid and retrieved the papers from within.

The first was an old-fashioned photo, curled at the edges but still clearly visible. And it was one of Liam and her. Her breath caught and for one heartbreaking moment her heart stopped. Almost frantic now Buffy dug through the rest of the papers, drawings of her, so many of them. When she was young, through adolescent and young adulthood, into womanhood, on their wedding day judging by the dress he had sketched.

In one wanton pose after another, sometimes by herself sometimes entwined with him. They were lovingly done, she could tell; each line held the love he felt for her…no, no for this Julianna for who else could that face be? Birth certificates telling her what Liam just had, that Julianna and he were born on the same day in the same year, a marriage certificate.

And her death certificate.

It was crumpled, as though he had refused to accept such a final act, and tear stained. At the bottom were several thin journals, and Buffy hesitated for only a moment before she opened the top one.

It was an almost daily account of her life.

From the first meeting with the young Liam on the street when they both could barely walk (this was done in her nanny’s hand Buffy assumed for if the child couldn’t yet walk she couldn’t write), through the death of his mother, the death of her butler whom she, Julianna, considered more a father than her own. His exile in the East and her heartbreak at every day that passed without him by her side. The letters they had written each other, full of love and longing, laughter and tears…they were tied with a fraying ribbon under the last journal.

Buffy finished with Julianna’s pregnancy, the hoped for child that the couple had finally been blessed with. And her last entry dated 27 June 1895:

My Darling Angel believes me to be on the mend but we both lie to ourselves and to each other. The child, our beautiful child was not meant to be. And, apparently, our love was not meant to last an eternity, either. The babe was stillborn; a girl whom I knew would have her father’s eyes and stubborn nature. And who would have him wrapped around her little finger from the moment he laid eyes on her.

Alas, that was not meant to be, either. Madeline, we named her, Madeline Julianna MacMurrough, 24 June 1895. I shall soon join her; I can feel the life ebb out of me, the midwife and doctor both agree that something went wrong and that when the babe died a poison entered my body, infecting me as well.

I’m so very tired but I want to finish this first…before Liam awakens from my side.

My darling, my Angel. I love you more than anything in this life or the next, more than my own life. Do not grieve for me, my love, for I shall always be with you. I know we promised forever and I’m so very sorry that our forever will be cut short into only a handful of years. If you believe in reincarnation, if you believe that our souls will always find each other’s, then know that I shall seek you out, always.

And that is our forever, my love. Our physical bodies may die but our souls will live on and in that living shall find each other…until forever.

Goodbye my dearest heart. I will love you always.

Buffy set the book down, tears tracking along her cheeks. The sun had fully risen but she couldn’t find a reason to start her day. Her only consolation was that it was Saturday. The more she read Julianna’s words, looked at Liam’s drawings, immersed herself in his past life…in her past life, the more she remembered about their time together.

Without looking up she asked, "Why didn’t you tell me before?"

Liam, standing in the doorway, fully dressed in his nineteenth century finery, looked startled for a moment at her question. Then, "I was afraid that you would think I wanted to be with you only because you looked like Julianna."

Turning luminous eyes toward him she asked, "And did you? Do you?"

"No!" He said forcefully, crossing the room in quick strides. Taking her tear stained face in his hands he kissed her lips, pouring all the love he felt for her – Buffy and Julianna – into that kiss. "I love you, Buffy for who you are. Admittedly, you and Julianna are a lot alike, but there are differences that cannot go unnoticed. By me at least. I love you, Buffy, because you are you and not just because you are my wife."

Looking deeply into his eyes Buffy wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to her next question. "And am I, Liam? Do you believe that I am the soul of your wife?"

"I think you are; it was what caught my attention in the first place. But the more I was around you, the more time we spent together, the more I realized that you are different, too. Maybe not different but changed. Different times, different reactions."

"And do you, Liam," Buffy asked as she shifted closer to her lover – husband? – brushing his lips with hers, "See the difference? I have all these sudden memories of us that I know never happened. Mainly because others could see you."

They shared a chuckle at that before Buffy finished. "Do you realize that difference?"

Liam looked into her eyes, a soft green that still held traces of tears. "I do, Buffy. I know the difference between you and her; I’ve known that difference for a long while now."

Buffy just nodded, still trying to absorb everything that she had learned these past few hours. Suddenly exhausted, she curled into Liam’s side and closed her eyes. Warm, safe, loved, he couldn’t fake that no matter how he felt about her. Buffy believed, as sleep reclaimed her, that he did love her.

But what came next?
~~~~~~~~~
It was weird, Buffy admitted later that day as she dusted the furniture off in the dining room. The kitchen was finally finished, as was most of this side of the house, so she figured that making it presentable was the best thing to keep her mind off all she had learned today.

It wasn’t working.

It was still weird.

Liam loved her, well, okay that wasn’t weird. What was weird was the fact that he claimed – and presented enough evidence to convince her of it – that she was his lost Julianna. The reincarnated spirit of his wife. Honestly, Buffy didn’t mind that, she loved Liam and knew he loved her and if they had loved in a previous life then that was so much the better.

What bothered her were two things: He hadn’t told her before and they had been sleeping together for months, and she still didn’t know if he loved her for her or for who she was.

Insecurities were a serious problem; she admitted that.

Buffy knew he was watching her, knew he hovered just out of sight in the kitchen, unpacking boxes of plates and glasses as she had asked him to but he had yet to say anything either. And it was beginning to grate on her nerves, this tension that suddenly appeared between them this morning. Would things ever be the same?

Maybe she just needed to take charge, to confront him and see where they went from there.

Dropping her rag and polish onto the glossy tabletop, Buffy walked into the kitchen and for one moment just stared. Lord but he was beautiful. No man should look that good, chiseled features, straight nose, tall sculpted body…she licked her lips before reminding herself what she had come in here to do. Jumping his bones could come later.

"When was the first time you realized you loved Julianna?"

Not stopping in his unpacking, Liam told her, his voice filled with all the love and adoration he felt for his wife – the one who died over a hundred years ago and the one before him for to Liam they were one and the same.

"The first time I saw her. We couldn’t have been two but there she was, walking with her nanny and she was…everything. I never looked at another woman after I saw her."

"And the first time you realized you loved me?"

"At first I thought that you were my Julianna, brought back to me and only wanted to know you better, to verify that my fondest wish had indeed come true. I watched you, followed you as you and your friends redid the house, laughed and joked together. I watched over the contractors as they refurbished my beloved home. The more I watched you the more I realized how you were different from Julianna. Little things, how you reacted to your friends, your lover. She only ever knew my touch, and I hers…"

Liam trailed off for a moment, fully cognizant that he had yet to answer Buffy’s question, but lost in thought of their first night together, the day they had found out that Faith had eloped and that they were going to marry no matter what their parents said. It was awkward but so beautiful, loving. They laughed about it later, right before they made love again.

"I knew I cared deeply for you our first night together, when you were making love to Riley but responded so passionately to my touch. The more we were together, the more you talked to me, shared things about your life, your day, what you were doing to the house, our house…I realized that I had fallen in love with you. I don’t know if it was all over again or for the first time, all I do know is by the time you could actually see me, I was as deeply in love with Buffy as I was Julianna."

The silence dragged on for several long minutes after his revelation. Buffy said nothing, as his words sank in, healing the broken parts of her heart she had refused to acknowledge until they had mended. Nothing mattered except them, she realized, to hell with everything else.

"I love you, Liam," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and placing a kiss on his back. "Forever, isn’t that what Julianna was trying to tell you?"

They spent the whole of the weekend making love.

Hours blurred into day and night and day again but Buffy didn’t care. She loved Liam, he loved her, and it was a heady sensation. To be loved that much, to be craved and desired and wanted more than anything else in the world, this or the next, was unlike anything she had ever know, ever hoped to know.

As she dropped off to sleep, the moon high in the sky Sunday evening, she turned to her love, her tiny body sprawled over his much larger one, arms keeping him close, his wrapped around her, holding tight. Buffy’s lips brushed over his jaw to his mouth.

"I love you, Liam, and I don’t care what the future holds."

Liam stiffened for a moment as her words penetrated the love and sex haze that surrounded him. The future…he hadn’t even thought about that. Buffy was young and her future held so many things for her…a family. She had said that she wanted to watch his children grow, their children, their grandchildren. He couldn’t give her children; he was, after all, dead.

Dead men couldn’t procreate.

"No matter what? No matter what the future holds, no matter what it doesn’t?" He couldn’t help but ask; he just needed to know, needed to know that she wouldn’t grow to hate him in five, ten, twenty years once she realized that there were limitations to their relationship.

Buffy lifted her head, sleepy eyes staring into his own sad and slightly panicking ones. "No, I love you, Liam, nothing can ever change that. I love you and I don’t care what we can or can’t have together. This isn’t the kind of love that will just disappear in a few years," she continued as if she had read his mind.

"I’m fully aware that we can never have the so called ‘normal’ life that others do, that I’m really the only one who can see you and that we’ll never have children together. Honestly, I never saw myself as the maternal type, sure, I’d love to have a son who looked like you, had your beautiful brown eyes and thick dark hair," Buffy took that opportunity to run her hands through his hair, leaning in for another kiss.

"But I have you; and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. That’s all I will ever want."

Liam looked at her for long minutes, seeking the answers to his questions, insecurities, fears, in her clear green eyes. All he saw was love shining there, love and trust and a firm belief that no matter what the future held she would love him and he would love her and no one could ever tear them apart, not even death for in death they would finally be together.

"But…"

Placing a finger over his lips Buffy shook her head. "I know what I said and I know what it means. So long as we’re together then nothing else matters."

"I love you, Buffy, always believe that."

"And I love you, my sweet Angel."

And he gathered her close, resting his chin atop her head as his fingers idly brushed through her thick hair, spreading the golden strands over the two of them. Liam felt her drift into sleep, her breathing even out, fluttering against his skin. Her grip never relaxed its hold almost as if she did then he’d disappear. But Liam found that oddly comforting, knowing that even in sleep she’d fight to hold onto him.

He shut his eyes, letting his mind drift, he didn’t need to sleep but he found that, too, comforting. At least in the arms of his beauty. So he let his mind float in an in-between place that was neither here nor there but full of Buffy, always full of Buffy.

She surrounded him, her scent, her laughter, her voice, her touch. Beckoning to him, calling out to him, telling him that she loved him and only him and that nothing could change that…

"I love you, my Liam, my Angel, always…"

…But when he jerked awake his arms were achingly empty, his bed held only him, a lingering scent of woman and sunshine stayed with him but other than that and a profound sense of wrongness, he was truly alone.

And in a strange bed.
~~~~~~~~~~
"I’ll always love you, Buffy, forever…"

Buffy slowly woke, knowing that something was wrong but not sure what that something could be and definitely not wanting to find out what it was. Stretching, she realized that she was on her back in her bed…and she was alone. Liam’s scent still clung to the sheets, their combined essence floating in the air around her, but he was nowhere to be found.

Tramping down on the panic that threatened to overwhelm her, Buffy tried to reason with herself that he had probably went to make her breakfast, or was going to surprise her in the shower, or…

But he wasn’t in the kitchen and he didn’t answer her calls, increasingly frantic as they were, and once she realized that she had to shower or be late – again – for work, he didn’t join her there. There was no note, no sign at all of where he could have gone.

Last night she had fallen asleep in his arms and this morning she had awoken without that comforting embrace.

Frantic now but not knowing what she could do about it, Buffy went to work and tried her best to actually do work. To keep her mind off the fact that the man she loved had literally just disappeared. But every four seconds her mind would break down and wonder…

Where was he? What had happened? He was a ghost so he couldn’t have died, could ghosts just disappear like that? Suddenly find whatever it was they were missing and leave this plane for the next?

She was at a total loss.

The police couldn’t help; filing a missing person’s report on a hundred year old ghost didn’t seem the sane way to go. She couldn’t actually call anyone, asking if they’d seen him, as she was the only one to see him in all of those hundred or so years he had been trapped here. Tell one of her friends? Willow and Cordelia might be sympathetic…right up to the moment they called the hospital to have her admitted for being totally crazy.

The hours drug by, the ticking of the clock an interminable thing that slowly WAS driving her mad.

Buffy was in her door by five, watching the last of the construction workers leave – the house was just about finished…their house, hers and Liam’s and that thought brought another pang to her heart. He was still nowhere to be found and again Buffy found herself calling his name, the panic she had tried to convince herself all day was nothing to be concerned over rearing up and threatening to strangle her.

Somehow Buffy found herself in the kitchen, making a big bowl of pasta as she tried to think rationally. Or at all really, but the only thing she knew was that Liam was gone and he didn’t seem to be coming back and he hadn’t even said goodbye, and…

"Oh, God!" She cried, breaking down and sobbing as she leant against the refrigerator, knees drawn up, rocking back and forth. "He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone…" She repeated those words like a mantra for hours, ignoring the cooling water and limp pasta, ignoring the time, ignoring everything except her own pain.

The pain of her heart shattering.

Eventually she rose, turned the water back on and watched, almost hypnotized as it came to a boil, the noodles floating around in a mad rush. Her red sauce was simmering on another burner, none the worse for wear despite leaving it on and unattended for so long. It was late when she ate, but eat Buffy did. Depression always made her hungry and this was ever so much worse.

She cleaned up in a trance and went to bed curling, naked, under the sheets that still held his scent, and hoped that he’d come to her in her dreams if nothing else.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seconds, minutes, hours, days dragged by but there was no sign of her lover.

Construction wise the house was finished, cleaned, sparkled, and shined. Sometimes Buffy would attempt to decorate her house but the thrill had left when Liam had disappeared. What was the point?

She was selling the house.

Buffy couldn’t bear to be in there, knowing that she had so many fun and loved filled hours with Liam, knowing that the house reflected everything they were together, from the knobs on the kitchen cabinets they had picked out one very interesting Sunday to the carpeting in the library.

The antique dealers still gave her strange looks from that day; she and Liam had laughed and joked, but to them it had looked as if the pretty blonde was laughing to herself, murmuring things into thin air. She had loved it and hadn’t minded at all.

Floyd had sensed something was wrong and once or twice tried to talk with her about it but what could she say?

That she had been deliriously happy these last months because her lover – her ghost lover mind you – had been with her and then one day, after all but planning a future together, she had woken up to discover him gone? And not just in a ghostly way but in a seemingly permanent forever kind of way?

Work noticed something as well and once again her secretary was worried.

At first Buffy was lethargic, missing work again in the hope that Liam would somehow come back to her, sleeping long hours in their bed, dreaming about his scent, his hands, his mouth and body. More than once she awoke, aroused and longing for her lover. Looking everywhere for a man that no one else could see.

Then one day, in a complete turn about, she was her energetic old self, coming in early, leaving late, producing mass amounts of completed – and very, very good – work. She had brought in three new advertisers and had totally revamped half their existing programs. Her department hated her, but in a grudging we’re-glad-she’s-back kind of way.

She finally realized that her absences and lack of focus and bred mutiny and fired four of her staff, replacing them with people she knew, from Liam’s wandering that day though she refused to think on that too long, had excellent ideas and were willing to work hard to earn her trust.

But, Janice still wasn’t buying it. Buffy could have told her she needn’t have been worried, that she was dealing with things in her own way, but what would have been the point? No one would have believed her.

Willow watched her friend stare into her gardens.

It had been some weeks since she had last seen Buffy but she knew something was wrong; every time she tried to talk with her, Buffy seemed distant and…unbearably sad. Willow hadn’t known what to do, she knew that Riley had moved on, that he and Buffy hadn’t seen each other in so long that the word ‘couple’ couldn’t really be applied to them even in the broadest sense.

So he wasn’t any help, neither were her family, but the only people Buffy had ever been close with were her uncle, Rupert Giles (though why she called him Uncle ‘Giles’ instead of ‘Rupert’ Willow had never learned), and her sister, Faith. Both were currently in England so Willow, desperate, had called them.

They’d be here in three days.

Walking up to Buffy, Willow was at a loss. What do you say when you didn’t know the cause? "Talk to me, Buffy?"

Buffy turned hollow eyes to her best friend, she, Cordelia, and Faith had been friends since time immemorial but this was the first instance where Buffy felt she couldn’t talk to them.

"You wouldn’t believe me, Willow, I barely do and I was there."

Willow, sighed, walked inside, made a huge pot of hot chocolate with enough marshmallows to please everyone, called Cordelia and told her to bring the pizza, and went back outside to her friend. They were going to get to the bottom of this if it took all damn night.

Twenty minutes later Cordelia arrived, pizza in hand, Buffy was still sitting on the chaise staring into the gardens, but sipping her hot chocolate. Willow and Cordy shared a worried look before ganging up on their friend. They were getting to the bottom of this no matter what.

"Come on, Buffy, talk to us. You’ve been avoiding everyone for weeks, months," Cordy started as she bit into her steaming slice of pizza. "First it was weird, then you were so happy it was catching so no one really commented, then there’s this depression mode."

Buffy still said nothing.

"Obviously you were having an affair," Cordy continued when it was obvious that no story was forthcoming, "Not that I blame you, Riley is handsome but you two never seemed right for each other."

Willow nodded her agreement as she reached for a napkin. She had often wondered at that but since both Riley and Buffy had believed themselves in love, she hadn’t said anything, supporting her friend.

"So…spill," Cordy continued as she took another bite of her pizza, "We’re not leaving until you do."

Slowly Buffy turned to her friends, they, along with Faith who was a year older, had survived preschool through high school together, choosing colleges close by so they could see each other on the weekends, living in an apartment together after graduation, before moving into larger separate accommodations.

They had always been close; their families called them the four musketeers. Maybe she could tell them and they wouldn’t believe her crazy. She wouldn’t know until she tried.

"It’s a really bizarre story, I barely believe it myself and I was there. I felt it all, saw…"

"Buffy," Willow said, handing her a piece of pizza in encouragement, "Just tell us."

Several hours later both Cordelia and Willow were debating the wisdom of that. It wasn’t that they didn’t believe her; it was just that…they didn’t believe her. It was strange and crazy and yet…

And yet Buffy had facts and figures and statistics and all sorts of information on the house and her…ghost lover, and could anyone really make something like that, especially with all that wonderful sex they were suddenly jealous of, up?

"You still don’t believe me." When they shook their heads in denial of her statement Buffy laughed and it felt so very good to do so. "It’s okay, I really don’t mind. It just felt so good to get it all out, I needed that, thanks guys."

Cordy and Willow nodded again in unison, still mute, staring at each other in disbelief. What had just happened? Still, it explained a lot and made sense…in a no sense kind of way, but it did account for some of her behavior.

"So," Buffy said with a renewal of energy, "Want to help me plan my house party? I plan on putting it on the market after the fourth of July so we might as well enjoy it while we can."

"Sure, Buffy," Cordelia said in a strained voice. Then, louder, "Yes, that’s perfect. I think next weekend will be good."

Willow looked at her, "Why so soon?" Then turning to Buffy, "How soon are you planning on selling…?"
~~~~~~~~~~
Later that evening, after more food and two bottles of wine, Willow and Cordelia crashed in the guest room; it was too late and they were too drunk to drive home. Besides, they had some serious discussion to do about all they had learned tonight.

"Do you believe her?" Cordy asked as she wiped the makeup off her face in the brightly lit bathroom.

"Strangely, yes," Willow said as she did the same. "I think it’s beyond bizarre, but I think that somehow it did happen or…"

"Or Buffy does and that’s good enough? Yeah, I get what you mean."

"So why were you so set on having this party so soon? Not that June isn’t a great time for it, but why the push?"

As she prepared to brush her teeth, Cordelia just shrugged. "Not really sure, actually, it just seemed…" she frowned as she tried to think why. "I don’t know it just seemed the way to go. Besides, Faith and Giles will be here on Sunday and I think that it’ll be good for everyone."

"I hope you’re right, Cordy, but I think it’s going to take more than that to make Buffy anywhere near over this guy."

"Buffy doesn’t have to be ‘over him,’" Cordelia protested, her eyes turning sad for a moment before she determinedly pushed her own thoughts away. "She just has to realize that she can’t hide away from the world for the rest of her life."

Willow laughed, hugging her friend to her side and kissing her now clean cheek, hoping the next words out of her mouth weren’t going to send Cordy into another depression. "This from the woman who refused to eat anything but chocolate for three weeks after Doyle took that job in London?"

Though her eyes got misty, her shoulders remained straight. "Yeah, well, and then I had you guys and you made me see that I had to get out again." The fact that she hadn’t had a real date in the year he had been gone wasn’t mentioned by either friend.

"Still, I think there’s something missing or something we’re missing…"

"Well, maybe this party will help. And if she’s really serious about selling the house, then that might, too."
**********
Willow, Cordelia, and Faith watched as Buffy floated among her guests.

Friends and family and coworkers gathered in the house to see the amazing things that had been done over the months. Several commented on the lack of Riley but no one had the nerve to actually ask Buffy about it. Even people she didn’t know all that well realized that their hostess was desperately trying to have a good time and no one was going to spoil it for her.

"So where is Giles?" Buffy asked, stealing a sip from her sister’s wine glass, having finally found a hostess-free moment.

Faith turned from her sister to look at the group in general. Smiling as though she had a secret – she had been doing so all week but refuse to tell, which wasn’t at all like her – Faith took her glass back from Buffy and sipped casually, though the smirk never left her face. "Airport. He went to pick up some…friends who were flying in today; he invited them to stay a bit."

"And who are they? He wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the details." Cordy grumbled, snatching a piece of cantaloupe off a passing tray. For almost an entire week she had held herself in check, not asking about Doyle though she just knew that Faith had seen him.

"One is a fellow writer. Apparently he’s been having a hard time of it, losing whole days, daydreaming, and the like. No one can figure out what’s wrong so Uncle Giles figured a vacation could only help."

"Seems to be going around," Willow commented with a significant look at Buffy as she waved to a friend across the yard. "And the others?"

"Just friends, people we met over there." Her tone gave nothing away but her eyes shinned with a secret.

Faith was her uncle’s manager, bullying, cajoling, or threatening the literary world into doing things her way. For the past months that Buffy had been having this affair, she had been touring most of Europe. It was something she wasn’t going to forgive herself anytime soon, not being there for her sister.
Her one consolation was that their two friends were though they, too, seemed upset at their lack of attention.

"He should be back soon, so far as I know the flight was on time."

Just as she said that they heard a burst of male laughter coming from the side yard. Turning, the four friends walked around the side of the house. Faith let out a whoop before running across the yard and throwing herself into the arms of a man none of her friends had ever seen before.

He was handsome, a little under six feet it looked with beautiful blue eyes which were currently laughing at the brunette in his arms as he swung her in a circle. Still laughing, Faith pulled back a bit to kiss him, murmuring something the three of them couldn’t understand.

Suddenly Buffy felt an elbow jab in her rib and turned to Willow with a scowl. Whatever words she was about to say died in her throat when she saw where Willow was staring, mouth hanging open. Cordy had apparently just noticed and was walking foreword in a trance, a look of utter stupefaction on her beautiful face. Buffy had a feeling that wasn’t going to last long.

"Five, four, three, two, one…" Sure enough, at one Cordelia Chase let out a noise that was a mixture between a scream and a sob and threw herself into Doyle’s waiting arms. She kissed him for a bare second before pulling away and punching him square in the jaw.

"Bastard!" She screamed, not caring who else heard, and kissed him again.

Faith smirked as she walked up to her friends, arm in arm with the stranger – who seemed to be a stranger only to them. "Hey, this is William. William, my sister Buffy, and my best friends, Willow," she pointed to the redhead, "And Cordelia," who was again standing in front of her ex, glaring at the poor man.

"Nice to meet you," William said in a faint English accent and shook their out stretched hands.

Cordelia had moved away from Doyle to alternately glare at him and smile. Buffy looked at her friend, sharing a smile with Willow. Cordy had been miserable since Doyle left, missing him terribly but refusing to acknowledge it.

"So this was your big secret?" Willow asked, looking from Faith who was all but wrapped around her lover to Cordy who had tears shinning in her eyes.

"Yeah, couldn’t spill, Doyle swore me to secrecy. But let me tell you, it was damn hard."

Buffy tilted her head towards William. "And William?"

"Oh," and if it were possible, Faith’s grin widened. "Yeah, well, wanted you to meet him first."

Giles cleared his throat to attract the attention of everyone. "What about me?"

Buffy laughed and threw her arms around her uncle’s neck, kissing him on the cheek. "I missed you, Uncle Giles, in the few hours it took you to drive to LAX and back."

Giles laughed, keeping an arm slung around his niece’s shoulders. Turning back to the driveway, he frowned. "I missed you, too, Buffy. Where is he?"

"Who?"

"The friend I went to pick up – these two were just an added bonus – but he forgot something in the car so went back."

He was truly happy to see his girls so happy. Oh, he had long known about Faith and William, having met the artist in Paris with Faith. And Doyle had always loved Cordelia; he’d find a way to win her back. Willow had Oz when the two decided to be a couple but seemed happy with that arrangement. As for Buffy…

Willow and Cordelia had filled both he and Faith in on what she had told them. He found it…extraordinary. Bizarre and not a little unbelievable, but interesting all the same. It also broke his heart for he loved Buffy like a daughter and it hurt him to see her so sad.

"Giles," a new voice called, "I think…" Whatever else he planned on saying, Cullen Angel O’Connor forgot it the moment he set eyes on the petite blonde at his friend’s side.

She was the one he had dreamed about, the one who had haunted him for so many months, made him laugh, dream, hope, and forget about everything except her, except them. His writing had suffered, he couldn’t focus on anything, could barely remember where he was most times so Angel had taken to staying in for days on end.

Just in the hopes that he could be with her again.

Until he had awoken in his own bed, completely disoriented…and all alone. After that night, he hadn’t seen the woman of his dreams – literally – until he walked along the grass on the side of a huge house that looked vaguely familiar.

Buffy stiffened, pulling away from Giles as she stared at the man before her. There were things that were different, that air of sadness that had often hovered over Liam wasn’t present with this man, and the look in his eyes was a strange mixture of confusion, lust, and love.

Her mouth worked silently for a few moments before she whispered, "Liam…?"

Shaking himself out of a daze, Angel walked a few steps forward, shook his head again as he resisted the overwhelming urge to touch the vision before him, and finally looked at Giles. "Um…Giles?"

The rest of the group looked from one person to the other, trying to figure it all out but remained silent. Giles stepped forward, "Angel, this is my niece, Buffy Summers. Buffy, a good friend of mine, Cullen Angel O’Connor."

Buffy forced her eyes to focus on her uncle, too many emotions, questions, hopes, running through her mind for her to really make any sense of anything at the moment. Looking back at the man before her she said, "Angel?"

Angel, Liam Angel, Cullen Angel, her angel…he had come back to her. He hadn’t suddenly disappeared, he had simply...well she didn’t know what had happened but there he was in the flesh and for all to see and hear. And touch…

Slowly she closed the distance between them and reached out a hand, tracing the strong bones of his face. "You came back to me."

"I never wanted to leave," he whispered though the words made sense to only them and then only slightly.

Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tightly to him. Sinking fingers into her golden hair, breathing in the remembered scent, his lips trailing along her slender throat to her jaw before settling on her mouth, tasting remembered tastes.

Willow turned to her friends, old and apparently new, and said in an awe-tinged voice, "Uh, so she isn’t crazy?"

Faith and Cordelia shook their heads in time with one another. "Apparently not, no," Cordy said and leaned her head on Doyle’s shoulder in a gesture she seemed unaware of doing.

"Right then," Giles said taking control of a situation he hadn’t ever thought to find himself in, "Let’s give them some privacy."

The couple in question never realized they had been left alone.
~~~~~~~~~~
The party had broken up hours ago and now only she and Liam…Cullen…Angel remained.

They had talked most of the afternoon, at first trying to understand the odd things that had happened to them, then talking about their lives, what they remembered and what they never knew.

Buffy leaned back into Angel’s arms as they watched the stars twinkle to life above them. Stretching her legs next to his much longer ones, Buffy closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest, her head fitting perfectly in the hollow of his shoulder. Their hands were entwined and she picked one up, placing a kiss on the back.

"I don’t care that we just met," she began, wondering if it were possibly to be happier than she already was.

"I love you. And I know that there are still things I don’t understand about any of this, it’s just too bizarre for words; I don’t understand how you could be the soul of the hundred year old ghost I knew or how that soul was really here all this time, just in a different country. All I know is that you’re the same and I love you."

"I know what you mean…" Angel said, turning her so she knelt in front of him, his arms still wrapped firmly around her, to kiss her again. He couldn’t get enough of her, hadn’t realized just how badly he had missed what he had always assumed until a few hours ago, to be dreams.

"I thought you had left me, thought that you were the ghost and that somehow you had been ripped away from my arms." His hand traced her face as if she still couldn’t believe that she was before him, real and solid. "I love you, too."

He stood her up, climbing off the chaise chair after her and took her hand. Leading her to her…to their room, he kissed her slowly, pouring all the passion and longing he felt over the past months into that kiss. Lips wandered over cheek and eyebrow, finding their way back to her sweet mouth. Moved slowly down her neck, along clavicle.

"Are you sure? I didn’t mean to push it’s just that…"

Buffy stopped whatever else he had been about to say with a kiss, short and sweet and enough to stop the words. "I’m sure, Angel, I love you."

His large warm, God they were so warm, hands slid the thin straps of her sundress over her shoulders, down her arms and he watched as the sundress pooled at her bare feet. Gently laying her on the bed, Angel worshipped her body, tasting every inch, reveling in the feel and texture and knowledge that this was real, that this wasn’t a dream and when he woke up she’d still be in his arms.

Real and solid and there with him forever.

Over belly and hip, pulling her panties away and simply staring at her in all her glory. "Beautiful, so beautiful, my Buffy."

Her hands tangled in the hair that brushed his shoulders, gripping him closer as he tasted her, hot and spicy and all his; chanting his name until she shattered beneath him, body arching up. Back up her torso, tugging in first one then the other nipple until she sighed his name again, begging for more.

"Now, Angel, now…" and wrapped her hand around his pulsating shaft, guiding him into her waiting body.

The moment he was seated in her warmth, they knew it had been right. Home.

Their rhythm was slow, easy, a steady beat that throbbed in time with the beat of their hearts. Buffy locked her legs around his waist, drawing him deeper into her, capturing his mouth again with hers.

Angel felt his orgasm building and snaked a hand between their bodies, massaging her clit once, twice… "Angel!" Buffy shouted, feeling her orgasm wash over her, pounding in crashing waves, lightening heat in her veins.

Her hot walls clutched around him and Angel’s own climax swept through him, releasing his warm seed into her body.

Long minutes passed before either found the energy to separate. Angel rolled off her only to bring her with him, sprawled atop his still heaving chest. The past didn’t matter and the future would take care of itself. All that mattered was that they wee together.

Somehow they had found each other again and this time it was indeed, forever.
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