Whistler watched the Vampire Slayer and the vampire with a soul from the shadows in the garden. They sat in front of the fire, sitting close together as they conversed. The demon kept a close eye on the diminutive Slayer, watching as her tense, sharp body language relaxed into slower, more graceful motions as she and Angel talked out this most recent problem. Whistler was relieved to see some color back in her cheeks, some in her eyes and that she'd gained back the weight she'd lost the previous spring. Angelus's reign in Sunnydale had been brief, but brutal for the young Slayer, and Whistler, more than anyone save Buffy and Angel themselves, knew exactly how high the toll in her had been.

The cessation of quiet murmurs from inside drew Whistler's attention back to the couple inside. Buffy was now curled up in Angel's lap as he sat in front of the fire, with her head tucked under his chin. The mighty Vampire Slayer, one of the strongest to ever live, was now sleeping peacefully in the arms of one of the most vicious vampires that had ever walked the earth. Whistler shook his head at the irony, as he waited until Buffy's breathing slowed and deepened to move into the room.

"So, everything's square now? " he asked Angel, leaning against the mantle to see his friend's eyes.

There was a brief pause before Angel answered, and then his words were measured carefully. "We've worked out the problems caused by Buffy's reaction to role I played," was the vampire's response.

"But nothing else was resolved," guessed Whistler. The demon watched as Angel shifted uncomfortably, unconsciously tightening his arms around Buffy, silently confirming Whistler's comment. "I bet you didn't even tell her that you're leaving," Whistler commented with a knowing smirk.

"I am not leaving," Angel snarled at him. Buffy stirred at the rumble and Angel immediately calmed, stroking her blond hair until she settled back into sleep. "I will not leave her," he repeated quietly, emphasizing each word to get his point across. "Not again, not on purpose."

"You say that now, but you will leave her Angel," Whistler's voice was stern and calm, indicating in no way the turmoil he felt. His job to balance the fight between good and evil influenced Whistler on everything. Whistler felt his friend and the Slayer had suffered too much, too recently, to be separated just yet. These two deserved a little breathing room, a little peace, but it was not meant to be, at least not yet. They kept achieving the impossible, beating prophecy after prophecy, keeping the future a murky cloud, but some things Whistler could see clearly. "Events are in motion, and you will be leaving Sunnydale. I just thought you'd like to give the kid some warning."

"I thought I was supposed to help her, protect her," Angel growled again. He and Whistler had gone round and round on this earlier in the evening, the other reason behind Angel's abrupt departure to go hunting. Angel hated the thought of leaving; he and Buffy had been through so much together and he wasn't going to give up now. Buffy provided him with the only peace in his life, her love a healing balm for his tortured soul.

Whistler merely raised an eyebrow and said, "I thought you said she was the best slayer you'd ever seen. I thought you said she could accomplish anything." Angel glared at Whistler, unable to refute the truth. Buffy didn't really need his help just to survive any longer. Still, Angel lived in fear of the day someone stronger or faster brought her down, or the day her enemies grew brains and overwhelmed her in sheer numbers. He wanted to be there to watch over her always, offering his life instead of hers. Anything to forestall her eventual death. At the thought of Buffy's death, the vampire grew restless, once more disturbing Buffy's sleep.

Whistler glanced out into the courtyard, noting the subtle lightening of predawn, feeling the imminent sunrise in his blood. "Look, you're not helping her out; right now she needs her sleep. The sun will be up soon, and you can sleep on this. Hopefully, you'll be more reasonable tonight. Tuck the Slayer in on the couch and hit the sack. I'll wake her in time to go change for school."

Angel's scowl didn't waver, a low, steady growl emanating form his chest, until a sleepy Buffy murmured, "Angel? What's wrong?" Angel forced himself to calm down, and started to rock his precious burden as the Slayer tried to wake up.

"Nothing's wrong Buffy," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the smell of her shampoo. "Go back to sleep." Sleep deprived, and hearing no further tension in Angel's voice, Buffy stopped struggling to awareness and settled back into sleep. A short while later, when her heartbeat and breathing had evened out, Angel stood carefully and settled her on the couch in front of the fire, tucking a blanket around her small body. With a final glare at Whistler, and then one at the rising sun, the vampire stalked off to his bedroom for the day.