Angel's fingers drummed the desk impatiently as he held the phone to his ear so tightly his knuckles were white. He heard the familiar message on the machine again, so angrily; he hung up, and turned to the window. He looked at the shades, knowing they held back something he could never touch, never see properly. Suddenly, he knew what he had to do. Opening his desk drawer, he pulled out a fountain pen and a sheet of blank, white paper, with the company logo in the top left corner. Writing quickly, he poured his feelings and thoughts into the writing. Finally, he signed the document with a flourish, and folded it up, stuffed it into an envelope, and set it in his mail holder, knowing that Cordelia would send it the next morning. Smiling, he knew he had finally achieved his goal. Angel grabbed his duster, and walked out of the apartment in confidant strides. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to the sunny outside world, and ran, hoping to avoid becoming a pile of dust too soon. He reached his destination: the gazebo under the weeping willow near the apartments. He ignored the blistering pain of the sun, and turned to face it. Before Angel could think, say, or do anything else, he exploded into a cloud of shimmering, golden dust. The pile lay on the wooden planks of the gazebo, waiting to be swept away.
Buffy checked the mail, humming a bar from a song she'd heard on the radio moments before. Her brow furrowed as she saw the envelope from Angel Investigations. Curiously, she ripped it open. Seeing Angel's flowing script made her smile. Sitting in the warm afternoon sunlight, she read the letter.
Buffy,
I know you probably aren't too thrilled about hearing from me, but I've tried to call. I never left you a message, but I think this is enough. I know, because it was so thoroughly stressed to me, that you are deeply in love with Riley Finn. I am happy, only because you are. I still don't think I would change my decision. We can never be. That is what this letter is about, and I guess that that is what I'm trying to say. I've regretted leaving you, but only for selfish reasons. I know that if I hadn't, we would've been separated in a worse manner. I'll cherish the memories forever. By the time you read this, it'll be over for me. I have to feel the sun again, Buffy, even if it will kill me. If you have time, come to the gazebo by the apartments. I'll be waiting.
Always,
Your Angel
Buffy read the last of it, two brilliant tears sliding down her cheeks. Covering her mouth to choke back the sobs, she rushed to the bus station, hoping feverently that the letter was forged that it was someone's idea of a sick joke. As she finally arrived in LA, Buffy already felt something missing. Like a chunk of her heart, a piece of her soul. She got off the bus at the apartments, hoping against hope that Angel would be standing there, waiting for her.
As she neared the beautiful gazebo, she saw the sun, setting over the horizon. She sobbed, seeing the lack of a figure leaning against the white railing. She caught her breath, and reached into her purse for the one thing she'd been wise enough to bring. A silver locket, empty now, but soon to be filled. Buffy cried openly, and pinched up some of the too familiar dust from the planks, rubbing it off her fingers into the locket, and snapping it shut. Hastily, she pulled out a pen and paper, scribbled a note, and wiped away her tears.
Determinedly, Buffy faced down the sun set, smiling at its harsh beauty. She pulled the wooden stake from her purse. Grimacing, she slammed it into her chest, feeling only a slight pain. She felt light, and looked down, to see her blood pouring out of a body lying on the floor of the white gazebo. She saw the blood soaking the golden dust. Her mouth dropped open, as she recognized the beautiful figure in front of her. Angel was wearing white, and was holding a hand out to her. Smiling, she took it, and together, they disappeared into the cloud-less sky.
My friends and family,
I know that you'll think I'm dumb for following Angel. (His letter is also in my purse.) I can't picture life without him, strangely as that sounds. He did leave me once, and I'm not letting him do it again. I'm sorry that I had to hurt you all in the process. I know you'll understand, though, because I belong with him. I'll see you all again.
Luv ya,
Buffy
Buffy checked the mail, humming a bar from a song she'd heard on the radio moments before. Her brow furrowed as she saw the envelope from Angel Investigations. Curiously, she ripped it open. Seeing Angel's flowing script made her smile. Sitting in the warm afternoon sunlight, she read the letter.
Buffy,
I know you probably aren't too thrilled about hearing from me, but I've tried to call. I never left you a message, but I think this is enough. I know, because it was so thoroughly stressed to me, that you are deeply in love with Riley Finn. I am happy, only because you are. I still don't think I would change my decision. We can never be. That is what this letter is about, and I guess that that is what I'm trying to say. I've regretted leaving you, but only for selfish reasons. I know that if I hadn't, we would've been separated in a worse manner. I'll cherish the memories forever. By the time you read this, it'll be over for me. I have to feel the sun again, Buffy, even if it will kill me. If you have time, come to the gazebo by the apartments. I'll be waiting.
Always,
Your Angel
Buffy read the last of it, two brilliant tears sliding down her cheeks. Covering her mouth to choke back the sobs, she rushed to the bus station, hoping feverently that the letter was forged that it was someone's idea of a sick joke. As she finally arrived in LA, Buffy already felt something missing. Like a chunk of her heart, a piece of her soul. She got off the bus at the apartments, hoping against hope that Angel would be standing there, waiting for her.
As she neared the beautiful gazebo, she saw the sun, setting over the horizon. She sobbed, seeing the lack of a figure leaning against the white railing. She caught her breath, and reached into her purse for the one thing she'd been wise enough to bring. A silver locket, empty now, but soon to be filled. Buffy cried openly, and pinched up some of the too familiar dust from the planks, rubbing it off her fingers into the locket, and snapping it shut. Hastily, she pulled out a pen and paper, scribbled a note, and wiped away her tears.
Determinedly, Buffy faced down the sun set, smiling at its harsh beauty. She pulled the wooden stake from her purse. Grimacing, she slammed it into her chest, feeling only a slight pain. She felt light, and looked down, to see her blood pouring out of a body lying on the floor of the white gazebo. She saw the blood soaking the golden dust. Her mouth dropped open, as she recognized the beautiful figure in front of her. Angel was wearing white, and was holding a hand out to her. Smiling, she took it, and together, they disappeared into the cloud-less sky.
My friends and family,
I know that you'll think I'm dumb for following Angel. (His letter is also in my purse.) I can't picture life without him, strangely as that sounds. He did leave me once, and I'm not letting him do it again. I'm sorry that I had to hurt you all in the process. I know you'll understand, though, because I belong with him. I'll see you all again.
Luv ya,
Buffy