Discliamer: No, I do not own Buffy or anything Buffy related. It is the sad truth of life. Oh well. Reviews are always appreciated.

Angel stared at the picture on his desk. It was old, not old by his standards, but old enough, fifty years old at any rate. He hadn't heard from her in about thirty years, hadn't seen her in almost forty. She was probably an old woman far past her slaying days. He missed her. Every day when he saw that picture it was like something inside of him died, not that there was anything there alive to begin with. It killed him that she hadn't kept in touch. It was like someone was dripping holy water onto his bare skin, drip by drip. He hadn't been able to track her down; he'd given up after about a decade of that. Instead he tortured himself by staring at her picture for long periods of time until his secretary came in to vacuum or something of that nature.

Suddenly he heard a loud thump coming from outside of his office. He grabbed the nearest weapon that was leaning against the wall and hurried out to see what was going on. There were no demons attacking or anything, instead he saw a petite blond girl leaning over his secretary apparently trying to revive her from a dead faint. "Come on," she muttered. "Wake up. What a great impression I'll make after over thirty years. First thing I do is make his secretary faint…"

"Buffy?" he asked with a frown.

Slowly she straightened and their gazes locked. There she was, standing in the middle of his office looking more beautiful than any woman had a right to. Her blond hair was the same light shade without a single strand of gray and her face was wrinkle free. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that she was still in her twenties, but that was fifty years ago. It was impossible.

"Hi, Angel," she said softly, not even attempting to look directly into his eyes as she wrapped her arms around herself. She knew that if she did, she would be lost. He had the most mesmerizing eyes that she had ever seen and she could get lost in them so easily.

"How is this possible?"

"I don't really know," she replied with a sigh. "Can we talk?"

"Of course…"

"Oh, your secretary, she's coming around," Buffy noticed and they simultaneously stooped down and helped the elderly woman to her feet. Angel settled her back at her desk and then ushered Buffy into his office. "So, how have you been?" she asked with a small smile. "Stop any apocalypses recently?"

"A few," he replied wryly. "Buffy, how is this possible? You haven't aged a day since the last time I saw you."

"Since I died actually," she replied as she took a seat in one of the black leather chairs in front of his desk. "The last time anyway, when I went to, well you know where I went."

"Oh, Buffy…"

"Do you know how many ways there are to kill yourself?" she asked suddenly and stood up to go and look out the window. "I think that I'm at five hundred twelve. I got a couple of new ideas on the flight here though. You really have a beautiful view from up here."

"I don't really get to enjoy it much," he replied. "Five hundred twelve?"

"Well, some of them were kind of dumb, no duh kind of things," she responded, not even turning to look at him. "I couldn't swim out so far that I couldn't get back to shore. I swam from Italy to Greece before discovering that. And fire didn't work all that well either, but that's a long story."

"Why did you try in the first place?"

"Dawn's son died," Buffy said sadly and turned away from the window. "I was supposed to protect him, but it didn't work so well. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was in a gas station that someone was trying to rob. He tried to be a hero."

"I'm so sorry…"

"They've all died now," she recalled blankly. "Giles passed about twenty years ago. I think Willow sent you the announcement. Xander was next. He was always really depressed after Anya. The alcohol finally got to him. Then Willow was gone, cancer. She survived seven apocalypses just to die in a hospital bed with her husband and two kids beside her. I guess that's the best way to go. Dawn was in a car accident. Some idiot tourist was driving on the wrong side of the road. Then her son died about ten years ago. I've been so along for so long, and somehow I found my way back here…"

"I'm glad you did," he replied and took her by the hand, gently pulling her away from the window. "So, what now?"

"I really don't know," she sighed heavily and let him pull her into his arms. Buffy leaned back into his strong embrace and just let him hold her for a long time. With Angel, there was no past, no future to worry about. There was just the present. You had to live in the here and now because everything else was too uncertain. He gently pressed a kiss on the top of her blond head and then the two of them just stood there, almost lost in their embrace.

"So, how is this possible?" he asked again.

"I think that time they brought me back to life, after I was in heaven, I sort of lost the ability to die," she explained. "I should have died so many times, especially after that last Apocalypse in Sunnydale. But I'm still here, and I haven't aged a day. I guess, I already got my reward and I'm not going to get another one."

"Oh, Buffy…"

"I'm not really all that sorry," she said unexpectedly. "I don't think I could ever really rest in peace. Someone would try and resurrect me again, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually, and I don't think I could bear being torn away again."

"If anyone deserves to go to their final reward, you do," he told her softly as he stroked her hair. By this time they were sitting in one of the plush leather chairs in front of his desk and she was sitting on his lap with her head nestled into his shoulder.

"Maybe I'm meant to get my reward here," she replied with a soft frown. "Maybe that's the whole point. You once told me that you're not getting any older, and now neither am I…"

"Are trying to tell me that you are cookies now?"

"I think by now I'm all burnt up."

"Not possible," he replied as he pressed a kiss to her neck. "You still taste good."

Buffy laughed and slightly pushed away from him. "So, are we…"

"Are you still my girl?" he asked with a small smirk.

"Forever," she answered with a wide smile.

"That's the whole point," he finished and then hungrily claimed her lips with his. Buffy let her self let go and poured everything she had into that one kiss. She was with Angel. They'd be together forever. Life would be perfect, no more loneliness and silent suffering. He'd be there every day for as long as she lived, which apparently was going to be forever, but then again, that was the whole point.