TITLE: Angel of Mine
AUTHOR: Psychowillow
E-MAIL: willow@bethere.co.uk
SPOILERS: In The Dark.
NOTES: This is the first slash piece I've submitted, so go easy. I'm apologising in advance. Also, there's a bit of sex in this, but there's a lot more of that B/A-esque angst. Apologising for that too.

***

*Eyes on the road. Concentrate. Nearly there. Just don't wander. Don't wander from
the road.*

Endless street unravelled before the blue Dingoes van as it made its way through the
dimly lit boulevards of Los Angeles' early hours. Oz had travelled a long way from
Sunnydale, on the outskirts of the city. Half the journey had been taken up with
searching for Angel Investigation's address, the second half by pondering incessantly
over what might happen, what could happen and what should happen.

*What will he be like? Pleased to see me? Angry? Distant? Shit. Shit!*

Having allowed his thoughts to wander, Oz had accidentally hit a street lamp.
However, it did not look like any permanent damage had been done. And even if it
had, who would know? Oz would be miles away by that time. Or around the corner.
For that is where he was presented with the ominous picture of Angel Investigations.
It was ominous on many spheres for Oz, but he allowed the adrenalin burning with
an amber glow at his centre of gravity to overwhelm him, as to fight off the lingering
fear and uncertainity in him.

*Here I go. Geez. Where's the ring? I've got the ring, right?*

Oz fumbled desperately in his shirt pockets before unbuckled his seat belt and
rumaging at the back of his seat. He found the shiny gem and popped it safely in his
pocket. Then, he hit the radio OFF and slammed the door shut. He did not lock it.
He did not know why, as he had been warned of how unsafe the big city was.
However, the idea of having to spend the night at Angel's seemed to excite him
somewhat, and so the door was left unsafe and unlocked.

*Where do I go from now. What if he's forgotten about me. Did I mean nothing to
him.*

Oz was as steady as a rock; as steadfast as ever. His trademark grimace and firm
handshakes suggested his usual, trademark demenour as he entered the building.
However, his eyes betrayed him. His big, blue, trusting eyes shivered with
irregularaty, so he chose to keep from maintaining eye contact.

Cordelia seemed pleased to see him. Well, she was as forthcoming as could be
expected of someone who saw coming first in the May Queen elections as her lawful
right. And the other guy. Who was he? He seemed nice.

*Who the hell is this bastard? What's he doing with Angel?*

"How you doing?" the man smiled tightly in his husky Irish accent, shaking Oz's
hand.

*Thinks he's so cute just 'cos he's Irish. Angel doesn't love him. He doesn't*

Angel was there. Unsurprised, Oz noted. Oz handed over the ring readily, and much
discussion ensued. Doyle was eager for Angel to wear the ring.

*What a little shit. Shit. Shit! He thinks now that Angel has the ring he can have a
little fun with his boss! Well I'll be damned if -*

"Oz. Oz!" Angel said, his brown eyes locked onto Oz's smooth face and gentle
expression. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" Oz asked, as if he had expected a different question. "I am fine."

"Thank you ... for the ring."

Seeming to sense that the mood in the room was changing, Angel's new found sidekicks
made their exits. And Oz's heart started to pound incredibly fast.

*What now? What do I say? What if I say the wrong thing? What if I make him
angry? Does he still want me?*

Angel began to walk towards the window. During the day anywhere in that
proximity was a "no-man's-land" as the rays of sunlight had the power to destroy him
in seconds. He secretly enjoyed the night's freedom. He could walk the streets, do
what he wanted. And it was dark. So dark that no one could see what he had done.
Angel turned to face Oz again and motioned towards a chair. "Please sit down."

Oz opened his mouth to argue, but paled pathetically. He sat down carefully, and
waited, looking deep into Angel as if he were expecting him to say something. Angel
stared back blankly.

*What's he thinking? Does he want me to speak?*

"This ... " Oz managed to stammer, and then broke off.

"Look, Oz," Angel began. "I can't say how sorry I am. For what I did. And leaving.
I-"

"Cut the crap, Angel!" Oz interjected, surprising even himself.

*Whoa! What am I doing? Just stay calm, don't let him see you cry!*

Angel smiled slightly, and Oz wondered why. "Why?"

"Why what?" Angel asked.

"Why did you leave?" Oz asked coldly, emotionlessly.

"I left ..." Angel said slowly and uneasily. "I left for lots of reasons." Oz rolled his
eyes. "Don't be like that!" Angel said, pleadingly. He approached Oz and bent down
to be at the same level as him. "I left. I left because things just weren't right with
Buffy?"

"Go on," Oz instructed monotonely.

Angel gulped loudly, and broke eye contact. "After ... what happened ... I couldn't ...
I couldn't stop thinking about what happened ... y'know ..."

"About me fucking you?" Oz asked bluntly, and purposefully.

Angel glanced at Oz, trying to read his thoughts. However, something was different
now from the last time they had seen each other. Oz was no longer Angel's. "Yes. It
was wrong for me to stay with Buffy after we had that one night stand."

*What?*

"What!!?" Oz asked ferociously. He found himself on his feet, and in an instant,
Angel standing before him. "That's what it was to you? A one night stand?"

"You know what happened," Angel said quietly, turning away. "You were there. I'm
not proud of what happened. But it did happen. And there's no point living in the
past."

"That's rich!" Oz hollered. Shortly afterwards, he could hear the front door open and
the sound of the uncomfortable Cordy and Doyle leaving. "You telling me not to live
in the past, when you make an occupation of it!" Oz threw the ring across the room.
"You disgust me!"

"Why are you doing this?" Angel asked, passionately swivelling around to face Oz.
"Why are you torturing me like this?" Oz was struck dumb. "What do you want me
to say that will make this go away? That I love you? Is that what you want to hear?
Well I do, okay? I love you more than I have loved anything in over 200 years! I love
you Oz, I love you!" He cupped Oz's face in his hands and looked down at the
ground. If it were possible, Angel would have been on the brink of tears.

*Can it be true? He loves me? Ohmigod! This is so amazing? He loves me? He
loves me! Oh, Wow!! I love him too! I love you too Angel!*

"I hate you!" Oz screamed, whacking Angel's gentle touch away. "You've ruined my
life, Angel! You know that now I can't even have sex with Willow - I can't even get
hard without visualising you and remembering what happened."

And Oz did remember. Oz remembered it every night when he cried himself to
sleep and woke up sweating. He remembered walking home across the cemetery
from a performance by the Dingoes at the Bronze, thinking that Buffy would have
cleared the remaining vampires away. Unfortunately she did not. Oz had had a lucky
escape. He would have died if he had not been rescued by his knight in ebony
armour.

"I owe you my life." Now he realised that if he had only chosen his wording more
carefully, he would have avoided everything.

"I know," Angel had responded, approaching Oz, and groping him. "And you're
gonna repay me." Oz did not put up much of a fight, come to think of it, as he was
dragged back to the Mansion where Angel lived alone. Angel did not mean to harm
him - physically at least.

Eventually, Oz's will was broken, and he had been convinced by Angel that it would
be easier for all concerned if Oz would just play along and do as he was told. Angel
layed Oz down on the velvety sheets and started to removed his clothes. It was not
difficult, as Oz wore mostly loose fitting clothes, and his sneakers were not fastened
correctly. Osbourne just lay, watching every move, feeling the electricity every time
Angel touched him.

After Angel had finished, he stood and moved towards the refridgerator. He ripped
open an IV of blood and savoured it, whilst examining Oz's body. Oz stood, naked in
the cold breaze of the semi-open doorway. "What are you going to do?" Oz asked
naively.

Angel smirked and leant in for a deep, raunchy kiss. Oz did not resist as the blood
gushed into his mouth. Angel began to tweak Oz's hardening nipples, and the blonde
was oddly aroused. "I'm not going to do anything," Angel said, finally seperating their
lips. He gently goaded Oz towards the bed, where Oz made himself comfortable.
"It's what you're going to do to me," the broad-shouldered vampire concluded, as he
walked away from the bed.

Oz sat up, and watched as Angel undressed. He waited with baited breath for the
sight of Angel's naked tenderness. "Y'see, I don't wanna lose my soul again," Angel
explained, throwing his Gucci trousers over along with his discarded shirt, socks and
shoes. He had his back to Oz, and was completely naked apart from his boxers. He
bent over ever so slightly, in order to maximise Oz's view of his buttocks, as he began
to slide the boxers down his hairless legs. "But I'm really horny," Angel went on,
kicking off the boxers. He then went on to cup his crotch in his hands and start
towards the bed. The frustration was near killing Oz. "So, in order for me to feel the
pleasure, I need pain as well. That way it's not 'perfect' happiness. The only way I
can get that would be ..."

He broke off and sat on the bed, in such away that Oz still did not get a view of what
he wanted to see. "I think you know where I'm headed," Angel smiled.

"Y-you want me to ... bugger you?"

Angel chuckled happily. "I haven't had an orgasm in a year. And I really just want
you to show you how much you owe me."

They kissed again. This time Angel slipped him the tongue. As they were doing so,
Angel swivelled with legs round. Oz looked down and saw what he had longed to
see. It was everything he expected - and more. "So how about it?" Angel asked.

"But Willow ..." Oz said slowly. " ... This ... this is our secret right?"

"I won't tell a soul," Angel answered distantly, now totally engrossed in Oz's body.
"So, you gonna fuck me now, because I don't think I can hold on for much longer."

That night, as Angel's naked body was pushed against the bed and ripples of pleasure
sped through him, the moon was full. Fuller than it ever was. It was not dark. Oz
was not a werewolf. Things were as they should be. Right.

"That's it?" Oz has asked. "That's all I was?"

Angel grimaced, looking down at Oz's diploma. "I can't stay. You'll understand
some day."

"You can't treat me like that; like some ... some kid!"

Angels expression changed slightly. He seemed to melt towards Oz's protests. "In
all my life I have never met someone quite like you, Oz," Angel said shyly. "You
have changed my life ... even more than Buffy did - more than she ever could. But
what happened, believe me I will always feel the guilt of it, was a mistake. And I
can't live here knowing what we did." He kissed Oz gingerly on the forehead. "I don't
think you're a kid."

Oz averted his eyes to hide his embaressment. In the distance he could see Giles
commiserating the heartbroken Buffy.

"That's why I'm asking you to come with me," Angel concluded.

It took a second or two to sink in. "What did you say?" Oz said blankly. "Me ... go
with you?"

"We'll leave and go to L.A.," Angel elaborated, the excitement of the idea beginning
to show in his voice. "I know I'm supposed to go, and now I see that you're supposed
to as well! It feels so right! Just me and you, Oz, we ..." He broke off as he saw the
expression that graced Oz's face.

"You can't keep doing this," Oz grunted unhappily. "You can't keep letting me ride
this rollercoaster where I don't know what you're thinking or going to do ... or if you
even care about me!"

"Look," Angel said. "I've put you through a lot in the past few months. And I want
to make it up to you. Please let me. There's a lot of things in my past that I won't live
long enough to make amends for."

"You're going to live for ev-" Oz broke off, realising the depth of Angel's statement.
"Oh." There was a short silence, as Angel looked on hopefully. "Well, don't think
you're the only one who feels guilty."

"Oz," Angel smiled. "You don't have to be like that. It was my fault we-"

"Just here me out," Oz said, raising his hands. "The first time Willow asked me to
have sex with her, I refused. It didn't feel right. But after the time ... with you and I,
it was all I could think about. I was turned on 24:7, until I couldn't hold it in any
longer. Two days ago, while we were researching spells to stop the Ascencion,
Willow and I did it for the first time." Angel's eyes wobbled uncomfortably. He
looked almost hurt. "And I had to bite my lip to stop from screaming your name."

"What are you saying?" Angel shook his head angrily. "What does any of this have
to do with me?"

"You don't get it do you?" Oz cried. "After Faith shot you, and you were lying naked
in your mansion, I was turned on. I wanted to be with you. But ... but it wasn't my
name you said in your sleep. It was Buffy's."

Angel looked deep into Oz's eyes, the penny finally dropping. "Oz, I ..."

"Don't say anything, Angel," Oz spat. "Just go. I hope I never see you again."

And Angel did go. He just turned away and dissapeared into the mist. Secretly, Oz's
heart sank. Things between him and Willow had not been the same since then,
though, if Willow noticed, she did not mention it.

"I remember," Angel nodded, distantly. "But nothing's changed. We still can't be
together - for whatever reason each one of us choses to believe."

*What? So I came all this way for nothing? No reaction? I'm supposed to go home
knowing what we had and what we could have had! That's not acceptable. He hurt
me, that mother fucking prick! I hate him! I want to hurt him, to rip him, to tear his
soul!!*

"What?" Oz screamed, tearfully scooping up the ring from the floor. "You thought I
was just going to //give\\ you this? Without expecting anything back?"

"Oz," Angel said, with an undertone of disappointment. The blonde sensed that it
was more of an exclaimation than a response.

"You're going to have to do better than that," Oz shrieked, almost wretching with
unhappiness. He started to fall, as if all his energy were being drained. He would
have fallen over, had Angel not been there to support him, and snatch the Gem of
Amara in the same instant.

*What's happening to me? How can I be so weak? I can't let him think I'm weak! I
hate him! I hate you, Angel!"

"I hate you! I hate you!" Oz bellowed in barely recogniseable language, battering
pathetically at the greater man's chest. But Angel was patient and kind. He held Oz
with love and sympathy and almost cried too out of empathy. He wanted to kiss Oz,
and tell him everything would be okay. But he knew that doing so would just be a U-
Turn, with the couple ending up just as they were before. So he let the meek, tired
werewolf slip to the floor, and writhe in his own agony.

***

*What? Where am I?*

"This is the place," a coarse grunt came from the drivers seat. The scent of cuban
cigars filled Oz's nostrils and he was fully awake. "You okay?"

*The Hotel? The Hotel Del Metri?"

"Is this the Hotel Del Metri?" Oz asked, rubbing his eyes, and sitting up.

"That it is," the taxi driver responded. "You need any help, sir?"

*Angel. Must have paid my fare. Hope he doesn't think I appreciate it. Cos I don't.
Big ... stupid guy.*

"Need any help?" the plump driver repeated, without a hint of impatience. Oz had
the distinct impression that he was about the 300th similar case that this driver had
dealt with that night.

"I'll be fine," Oz answered thoughtlessly. "Sorry, I don't have money to tip you. All
my luggage is ... at that place ... oh, god ..."

"Don't worry about it, son," the driver told Oz, interjecting from his erstwhile
conversation over the intercom. "Be seeing you."

"Yeah."

*What am I going to where? Which room is it? How do I get in? Where am I? Does
Angel still love me?*

"Are you ... The, eh, 'The Oz-Man'?" a sacchirine-voiced woman at the counter asked
Oz.

*What? Oh yeah.*

"Oz. Is me," Oz nodded.

"Your friend Devon said that you were to go right up," she smiled tightly. "Room
17."

"17," Oz repeated for no reason in particular. The world was now a daise, and he
felt like a spinning top; he was on auto-pilot, and he did not really care what
happened, as long as the first thing was sleep.

***

"Hey, man," Devon welcomed, garbed in his usual attire of boxer shorts and a
mischevious grin.

"Hey, Devon," Oz admonished wearily.

*You fucking shag.*

"So, eh," Devon scratched his head. "There's only one bed. It's a double. You don't
mind?"

"I guess not," Oz shrugged, as he removed his jacket.

*And I hope you don't mind me having a boner all night over your sexy bod!*

"What?" Devon asked.

"Huh?" Oz said defensively. "I-I never said a thing."

"You've got that look," Devon explained, pulling back the covers and jumping in,
causing large ripples and rivetts through the entire structure, as well as taking it's toil
on the springs. "You know! The look you get when something's on your mind."

*Devon, baby. You're always on my mind!*

"There's nothing on my mind," Oz said passively, kicking off his sneakers and jeans
casually, climbing into bed with nothing but his T-shirt and underwear. "I'm just
tired."

"I figured you missed Willow," Devon said cautiously, as he hit off his lamp and
settled into a comfortable sleeping position.

"Oh, there's that, too!" Oz said quickly. "I guess I'm just overcome with worries at
the moment!" He then began to laugh shakily, and turned to extinguish his bedside
lamp, primarily to hide a bead of sweat that now decorated his forehead.

"If you're worried about the gig tommorrow, don't be," Devon yawned. "Besides, if
the worst comes to the worst, you can always give up guitar and start working as a
private investigator for Angel."

There was a beat. "What did you just say?" Oz asked instantaneously. "Whatty-ty-
what?"

"Y'know," Devon smiled. "That Angel guy. The one with the hair gel. Used to date
that Buffy chick. The one you've been hanging out with today."

"How do //you\\ know about that?" Oz asked, a little more irate than he had intended.

"He called shortly before you came in," Devon said, a little tender of the griding he
had just receive. "Oz-man, is there something I should know about?" He started to
smile like a rascal again. "You and Angel? Ohmigod! Does your broad know?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Oz tried to laugh, but it came off more as a shrill screech.
"And Willow is not my 'broad', she's my girlfriend."

"Not for much longer, man," Devon chuckled, punching Oz's arm affectionately.
"Am I all right to sleep in the same bed as you? You won't try and poke me during the
night will ya?"

Oz seemed unaffected by this.

*Oh, in your dreams, you fucking shit! Like I'd ever have the hots for you!*

"What did he say? Angel, I mean."

"Just to ask if you were okay," Devon pondered slowly. "Oh, and he also said
something about meeting you in the hotel car park at midnight. To talk things over."

"DEVON!" Oz growled, leaping from bed and dressing readily.

"What do expect?" Devon asked innocently. "J-Lo's music video was on TV!"

"Well, next time, please take a note of my messages," Oz instructed, slipping into his
Nike's again, and opening the door.

"Especially ones from Angel?" Devon asked cunningly.

Oz sighed. "Especially ones from Angel," Oz flashed a smile to his fellow band
member, and they understood each other.

The door shut behind Oz, leaving the room in total silence and darkness. Devon
settled himself back down into a sleeping position. However, before entering into his
regular 14-hour slumber, he castigated quietly: "Angel, you're one lucky fucker."

***

*What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing? This is
the second time today he's had me like this. I'm too tired and too soft to be treated
this way over and over. I just wish he'd make up his mind. Well, I hope he doesn't
think I'm coming back to him. I don't care if he crawls on his hands and feet. I don't
care if he offers to move with me to a Tropical Paradise. I don't even care if he takes
me to Hadrian's Jazz festival in London. Well, maybe if he takes me there ...*

There was a whir of movement in the shadows cast by the large, overpowering
pillars that seemed to haunt the entire vicinity. Judging by the fact that Oz had not
seen a flicker of light in the Janitor's office in the last twenty minutes, he took an
educated guess that it was the one who he was waiting for.

"Angel?" Oz asked, standing up off the railing on which he had sat.

"Sorry to disappoint," breathed the shadowy figure emerging from the blackness,
smoke escaping from his nostrils. "But I ain't Angel."

"Spike," Oz said. Again, this was more to aid himself along the path of realisation
of what had happened.

"You ain't a bright one," Spike snickered menacingly. "I see why Angel likes you.
He always goes for the ditsy ones."

"What do you mean ditsy? I'll have you know-" Oz broke off. "You really think he
likes me?"

Undetered by Oz's questioning, Spike started to run his fingers through Oz's blonde
locks. "Two choices, music man," Spike dropped his cigarette to the ground and
destroyed the flame with his boots. "I'm gonna kill you. But hand the ring over and
I'll let you stay dead. Be all 'you'll never get away with this', and you and I are gonna
have some fun in the underworld."

"Sorry, Spike," Oz said, seemingly unafraid. He knocked Spike's hands from his
forehead. "I already gave the ring to Angel."

Spike stopped for a minute, looking at Oz. He then seemed satisfied that Oz was
telling the truth, and lit another cigarette. "That wasn't one of the choices," Spike said
quietly.

"Okay," Oz said wearily, stretching purposefully. "I'm disqualified. See you in hell."

*Please buy it. Please buy it. Please buy it. Please buy it.*

Oz pressed for the elevator, trying to disguise the shaking in his slender fingers with
a whistle of the tune the Dingoes had been practising before leaving Sunnydale.
However, Oz did not see the lift arrive, as he had been grabbed from behind by the
platinum vampire.

"As I was saying," Spike went on, his true vampire colours showing through, every
ridge in his demonaic self now one with his human self. "You have to do a forfeit."

Struggling pathetically against the great strength of the vampire, Oz felt his curious
hands tear away at his shirt, and start to unbuckle his jeans. The sound of tearing
cloth and flesh against flesh was interupted only by the jingle of the Hotel's elevator
arriving at it's destination.

"Drop him, Spike," a voice said from the lift. It was stern and sullen. Oz recognised
it in an instant.

*It's him! Thank God!*

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Oz asked angrily.

"Hey, hey!" Spike said, licking Oz's shoulder sexily. "Pipe down."

"I came here in your van. Wanted to drop it off," Angel said, in the midst of sparring
with Spike. "Devon said you were down here meeting ... me. Figured something was
up."

"Took your time," Spike laughed, kicking his Grand sire away. "Nearly fucking
raped your boy before you turned up. Still will if you don't hand over the ring." Spike
held Oz against his chest, as if he was not mincing his words.

Angel, looking more angstful than usual, looked with concern from Oz to Spike, and
then back again.

*What is he waiting for? Waste the dick! What, he wants to watch?*

"Fine," Angel said, removing the ring from his finger and pressing it into Spike's out
stretched hand.

"I've got it! I'VE GOT IT!" Spike screamed, naively dancing about the car park.
Angel grabbed the sweat-drenched Oz and entered the lift. They could see Spike's
figure dissapear into the harshness of the Los Angeles night as the lift doors shut with
a clank.

"What an idiot," Oz laughed. "He actually thought that that ring was the real thing!"
He turned to Angel, expecting to see a similar expression on his face. "What's up?"

"I ... I thought ..." Angel stuttered. His whole body was shaking. "I thought I was
too late. I ... I thought that he had ..."

"Hey, calm down," Oz said softly, holding Angel by the shoulders. "Don't go all ...
nostalgic either."

"I never should have put you in that taxi!" Angel grunted. "I never should have left
your side! I should have been there for you!"

"There's still time," Oz whispered suggestively. And with that the two were groping,
each exploring the others mouth with their tongue. Pushing Oz up against the solid
steel doors, Angel hit the Emergency Stop button, and they fell to the floor. Soon they
were naked, embracing each other lovingly, and grinding, licking and thrusting better
than they ever had before. It felt right. It felt light. It felt ... happy.

***

"Penny."

"What?"

"Penny for your thoughts," Oz elaborated, his head resting on Angel's chest and
under the vampires ringed hand.

"I was just thinking how beautiful that was," Angel said, almost tearfully. "It was.
Wasn't it."

"Of course," Oz giggled. "It was wonderful."

"The ring," Angel said, examining it. "It must have some default. It is written that
Amara stops vampires with being cursed with souls, so it only makes sense that it
should work the other way. I mean ... I'm still here. And what we just did," Angel
wiped away a tear of joy. "Was as perfectly happy as I'll ever be."

Oz kissed Angel's nipple gently, encircling it with his lips and teasing it with his
tongue and teeth. "I know exactly what you mean. That's how I felt the first time ..."

"I don't want to talk about that," Angel said, with a slight hint of sadness. "I was
wrong. It was almost as if I had lost my soul - how I tried to control you like that."

"I dunno," Oz shrugged happily. "I kinda liked it."

Silence ensued. Angel ran his fingers through Oz's soft hair, while Oz lapped the
remaining cum from Angel's groins, which resulted in a rather loud bout of moaning.

"Oz," Angel said seriously, bringing Oz's face up to oppose his. "There's something I
need to say."

*Please, oh please ask me ...*

"I'm only gonna ask this once," Angel said morosely.

*Yes, yes!*

"Because I don't want to hurt you. Me. Us. I don't see why I should stretch this
out," Angel said. "I'm not trying to torture you..."

"Fuck sake!" Oz screamed in mock anger. "Will you spit it out, man!"

"Oz, will you stay in Los Angeles. With me," Angel blurted quickled. He cast his
eyes away, as if he was afraid of what the outcome would be and if it would hurt him.

*Well, he asked. So what do I say? If he'd fuck me like that everyday ...*

"Angel," Oz said gently. "I love you ..."

"And I love you," Angel interjected quickly. "More than I've ever loved anything!
You're everything to me!"

"Uh-huh," Oz went on. "But ... I have a responsibility to Sunnydale. It's my
hometown. All my friends are there, my band, my ... girlfriend."

Angel said nothing. He just stared at the ceiling of the elevator. Oz scanned his
face, but could not judge his emotions.

"That's why I'm saying 'No'," Oz said. There was a beat. "I'm guessing you're
wanting me to stop sitting on your body now and put some clothes on."

"No," Angel said. "No I don't ever want you to stop being with me. And if you're
naked forever, that's good too. But I said I'd only ask once, and I did. And I'm sorry
you said no. But I do understand. And I hope you understand."

"Understand what?" Oz asked quietly.

"Understand why //I\\ left Sunnydale," Angel said, lifting Oz off of him and putting
him on the floor. Angel pulled his trousers on, swung his shirt over his shoulder and
carried his shoes/socks in one hand, his jacket in the other.

Angel ripping the doors open as if they were nothing. "I think it's only fair to tell
you that I'm going to destroy the ring," Angel said, without looking back. "Just as
soon as I find Spike." He walked out of the lift into the car park. Oz walked out too.
He was naked, but he did not seem to mind in the Californian heat. "Goodbye Oz."

"Good-" Oz began.

"Shh!" Angel said.

Angel turned and walked out, letting the warm rays warm his toned body. However,
Oz felt like it was him who was walking away this time. And in fact he was.

Oz was the one dissapearing into the smoke.

*Shit.*

***