A/n: I got so many people asking me to make this into a full story so I'm just going with it. Please review.
There were things about her that he hated; things like how she brushed her hair when it was wet, or how she slept. She hated how she wasn't good enough; how loving her didn't make him turn evil like loving her sister did. They hated their differences. They hated their similarities even more. They never went out, but that never really bothered either of them for going out was for the living and they were definitely not considered the living. Sure, Dawn had a heart beat but when someone is stabbed threw the gut with a sword and managed to still kick ass; they were clearly moved from the living category. She was sleeping beside him, her hair combed behind her ears and her eyes closed. He would never deny her beauty, but she wasn't Buffy…she wasn't the one he loved. She didn't make him want to live. Just as he wasn't the man she herself desired, but in such a world of grays sometimes people clutch to what is the absolute opposite of what they want. What is different from the thing they love, such as a dancer that co-works as a chef. Or a homicide detective that is also a hit man.
"What's wrong?" She asked, turning to face him. Her head was propped up by her hand, fingers entangled in the mass of brunette hair. Her eyes looked sultry, half closed in a deadly sexy kind of way. A smile tickled her lips.
"Nothing," He responded, pulling her to him. He crushed his mouth against hers, warding away the images of slayers while embracing a woman who would never be good enough.
She turned on her side, her back facing him as she slowly allowed sleep to overcome her. She felt him get up, felt him leave the room, heard him open the door of the room next door…and it killed her. She lay there for a while, listening to the steady pitter patter of the rain outside. The sun was just rising, and though she had slept only a few hours, she rose. Pulling on an outfit that was more for comfort then show, the brunette tossed her hair into a ponytail and yanked her broad sword from the closet. She carried it to the training room, swinging it around her as she went.
After working up a sweat, she dropped the sword with a deafening clatter and grabbed one of the towels from the bench Angel had built along the wall. She toweled off while entering the empty kitchen. She avoided the lobby at all cost, avoided the pictures that decorated the walls like the scars did her body. Pictures so he wouldn't forget, drawings so he wouldn't forget, memories trapped on paint chipped walls…so he wouldn't forget. She wished she could forget; she wished she could erase the pain like he could the lines. She felt guilty for having not cried for them in such a while…felt guilty that she gave up caring.
She pulled Angel's jacket on over her tank top, walking outside and climbing into his car. As she slipped the key into the ignition she heard him open the front door and watch her, cloaked by the shadows. He was so close to humanity and yet so far. She drove, keeping her eyes trained on the feet of black asphalt.
Dawn Summers hated being here. She hated the rolling green hills that seemed so alive, the lines of headstones, the crypts she wished he lived in. She hated the pain. She walked, weaving throughout the memories and towards the line of granite pain.
"Hey," She slid onto her knees, tracing the name that stared at her.
Buffy Anne Summers
Forever Loved By All She Saved
"He misses you so much," She whispered, staring at the stones that surrounded her sisters. "God, Buffy, it's so lonely without you here. Without all of you here. Alone…" She placed a kiss on her hand, touching it to her sister's name. She did the same to the others that circled hers. Except one.
Willow, Tara, Anya, Xander, Giles, Buffy, Cordelia, Gunn, Fred, Wes, Faith, Robin, and Spike. Spike…sweet hearted fang master Spike. She moved towards the final head stone, staring at the inscription.
Rest in Peace
"Rest in Peace"…that was basically all her and Angel could come up with. Thinking she would have to die in the eyes of the humans, the two bought a headstone and "buried" her. She stood up, brushing the dirt from her jeans and walking back towards the car, leaving behind the past and heading towards a home of empty hearts and neglected lobbies.
A/n: An actual plot will develop at one point if you review.