Even in his dreams, Xander Harris was invisible.

Anyone who met Buffy remembered her. She was gorgeous and witty and had a distinct undertone of sexuality that even Xander couldn't put his finger on. People remembered Oz because he was in a band, and Willow because she was a one-time geek, and Giles usually because of his accent. But Xander saw people on a regular basis that had once been acquaintances - the guys in the same company during his stint in the military, or kids from his old softball team - and they snapped their fingers and narrowed their eyes when he said hello to them. He eventually said "Xander" to jog their memories.

The only person who didn't make him feel invisible was someone who was nearly invisible himself. It was someone who lurked in the shadows and came out only at night. Angel.

Xander had a love/hate relationship with night. It wasn't unusual to lay awake until 2 a.m., staring at the ceiling, trying to count sheep and recite state capitals and any other trick his mother had taught him to fall asleep. He even bought a Yanni CD to make himself drowsy. If his schedule allowed it, Xander could probably stay awake for two days and then sleep for two days. His mornings were sluggish and nearly unbearable, his eyes desperate to close while school or work stared him in the face, demanding his attention. Any time after midnight was spent laying in the dark filled with mute panic, wanting so badly to fall asleep that he actually kept himself awake doing it. He would peek at the alarm clock, watching the minutes tick by and knowing that if he didn't get to sleep right away, he'd be that much more tired the next day.

He and Angel were on the same schedule. Angel arrived around midnight, when Xander's house was quiet and dark, and he was like the sand man. After he left, Xander slept deeply and peacefully.

It was a Tuesday night, but it could have been any night. Xander had been awake until 3 a.m. the night before, half trying to sleep and half hoping that Angel would show. So Xander was tired enough to drift off around midnight, the blankets like a warm cocoon around him and the pain of the day becoming unreality.

He dreamt that he was at a party that was half humans and half cartoon characters. Spike was in charge of the punch bowl. He raised the ladle to give someone who looked like Bugs Bunny a glass and it dripped with dark red blood. Bugs smiled and walked away. There was no music. Actually, there was hardly any noise. He stumbled through the party unnoticed, everyone already locked in their own conversations. Buffy was dancing with Xander's old friend, Jesse, who had become a vampire shortly after she came to town. Xander rushed over, anxious to talk to a friend who had been gone for so long that missing him was an unconscious thing by now. He tapped Jesse on the shoulder but he didn't turn around.

He woke after about an hour to a hand drifting across his forehead, the fingertips moving so lightly that Xander actually smiled in his sleep. He was never startled when he woke up to those fingertips.

He opened his bleary eyes and smiled at the dark figure sitting on the side of his bed, leaned over so Xander could smell the dark musky scent of his lover. Angel smelled like a combination of new leather and pine needles, although Xander could never figure out why.

Angel replaced his fingertips with his mouth, his lips brushing across Xander's forehead so gently that Xander could have easily fallen asleep again.

"Am I invisible?" Xander muttered, still not awake enough to make sense.

"No." He felt Angel shift his weight and lay next to him, still wearing his trench coat as he laid an arm across Xander's body.

"Thank you," Xander mumbled.

Angel chuckled a little. "Well, I'm not so sure I have anything to do with it."

"But you do."

Angel climbed under the covers, tucking his arms around Xander and pressing his face into his shoulder. "This is one of those Love Story moments," Xander said, melting against Angel's body and sighing.

There was a long moment of silence before Angel spoke again, but Xander didn't even notice because he was too busy purring, lying there in a moment of half-awake bliss.

"I'm leaving," Angel said.

"No, no, don't go. I'm awake."

"No. I mean I'm leaving Sunnydale."

Xander's eyes snapped open. "Why?"

"Because it's all getting to be too much. I thought I might head out to L.A. Somewhere where I can get a fresh start."

If a fresh start is possible after a couple of hundred years, Xander thought. He laid silently, afraid to breathe.

"I'm sorry," Angel said. Xander felt the weight of Angel's body lift. Wait, Xander thought. I'm not ready for you to leave yet. But he rolled over and Angel was gone.

He laid awake for the rest of the night.