Some dialogue taken from btvs season three ep, revelations and lover's walk. Made this super long since I can't update for about two weeks. Thanks Sassy and AG for all your help. ;)

It didn't take long for Buffy to realize that Dean wouldn't be returning her phone calls. Buffy decided to write to him, even though she knew he didn't get mail on a daily basis, she remembered the Winchesters did stop at the mail drop nearly weekly. At least, she'd be able to explain how she was feeling. If Dean still chose to ignore her…Buffy was determined not to think about that happening.

Weeks had gone by without hearing from Dean, and Buffy was showing signs of frustration. One night, while Faith and Buffy were patrolling, Faith began discussing her past love life, hoping Buffy would open up about what happened with Dean. "Ronnie, deadbeat. Steve, klepto. Kenny... drummer. Eventually, I just had to face up to my destiny as a loser magnet. Now it's strictly get some, get gone. You can't trust guys." Faith said with a note of disappointment.

Buffy shook her head. "You can trust some guys." Faith gave her a doubtful look. "Really, I've read about them."

Faith laughed, "Yeah. So, what about you?

"You mean like, me and guys me? Not much to tell these days," Buffy sighed.

"Yeah, but you gotta have stories. I mean, I've had my share of losers, but you... First there's Dean, totally hottie, then I hear you boinked the undead. What was that like?"

Buffy tilted her head and frowned. "Dean and me," she paused, "I don't even know if there is a Dean and me." She sighed and kicked a stone on the path. "And life with Angel's... was complicated. It's still a little hard for me to talk about."

Faith stopped walking, "Well, try."

Buffy turned to face her, "Look, Faith, Dean and I aren't talking and all the Angel issues are still kind of with me, so if you don't mind, I'd rather not."

"Yeah. Fine, whatever." Faith shrugged.

Gwendolyn Price, Faith's watcher, leaned against Giles' desk, "The demon, Lagos, seeks the Glove of Myhnegon. No record of this glove's full power exists, but we do know it is highly dangerous and must not fall into the hands of a demon. Lagos must be stopped."

Giles looked up at her. "What do you propose?" he asked, barely hiding his dislike of the woman.

Gwendolyn huffed, "Well, if it's not too radical a suggestion, I thought we might kill him."

Later, that night, in Angel's mansion, Angel and Buffy kissed, slowly, but it became more passionate. Suddenly Buffy stopped. "Oh, god, Angel, what am I doing? What are you doing?"

Angel shrugged in confusion, "I don't know Buffy, I thought this is what you wanted."

"No. No, I don't want this. I, I," she stares at him a moment, "I don't love you. I can't do this." Buffy gathered her things, "I'm gonna try and vent a little hormonal angst by going out there and killing a Lagos, whatever that is."

Angel faced her again upon hearing that demon's name, "Lagos?"

Buffy prepared to leave, "Some demon looking for some all-powerful thingamabob, and I gotta stop him before he unleashes unholy havoc."

Angel couldn't bring himself to look at her again, and so he stared off into space as he quietly told her to be careful. Neither of them were aware of Xander who had arrived to tell Buffy the location of the Glove of Myhnegon.

The next day, Buffy bounced into the Sunnydale High library. "Lagos is out of luck," she beamed. "I got the magic mitten thingy." She stopped to see that Xander, Cordelia, Oz and Willow were all sitting at the center table looking as glum as Giles did. "What's going on?" She asked as she took a seat.

Giles walked to the opposite side of the table to face her. "We know Angel is alive." Buffy looked shocked. "Xander saw you with him. It would appear that you've been hiding him and that you lied to us."

"Nobody's here to blame you, Buffy. But this is serious," Willow began. "You need help."

Buffy looked at Willow, "It's not what you think."

Xander was unable to hide his disappointment. "Hope not. Because I think you're harboring a vicious killer." Buffy glared at him, but Xander matched her glare.

Willow tried to mediate, "This isn't about attacking Buffy. Remember, 'I' statements only. 'I feel angry.' 'I feel worried.'

Cordelia straightened her shoulders, "Fine. Here's one: I feel worried... about me! Last time around, Angel barely laid a hand on Buffy. He was way more interested in killing her friends."

"But he's better now," Buffy attempted to defend him.

"Better? for how long, Buffy? I mean, did you even think about that?" Xander asked.

"What is this, Demons Anonymous?" Buffy stood to leave. "I don't need an intervention, here."

"Oh, don't you?" Giles interjected. "You must've known it was wrong seeing Angel or you wouldn't have hidden it from all of us. I suspect it may be the reason Dean left."

Buffy gasped and became defensive. "I was going to tell you, I was. I-it was just that I... I didn't know why he came back. Or who brought him back. I just wanted to wait."

"For what?" Xander demanded. "For Angel to go psycho again the next time you give him a happy?"

Buffy raised her voice defensively, "I'm not going to... We're not together like that."

Oz leaned forward. "But you were kissing him." Willow gave Oz a quick look, then looked at Buffy, worried. "I gotta go with Giles, here. It explains why Dean left."

Buffy thinks about the implication of Oz's accusation, and looks at Xander. "You were spying on me? What gives you the right?"

"What gives you the right to suck face with your demon lover again?" Cordelia asked harshly.

"It was wrong, okay? I know that, and I know that it can't happen again," Buffy admitted. She saw Willow making a very upset face. "Will?"

Willow looked at her hands and her voice was very quiet, "I thought you and Dean, last summer, the two of you.."

"Willow, it's not like that. You guys have to believe me. I would never put you in any danger. If I thought for a second that Angel was going to hurt anyone... "

Xander raised a brow. "You would stop him. Like you did last time with Ms. Calendar."

Willow sensed that it's time to intercede. "Buffy, I feel that when it comes to Angel, you can't see straight. And that's why we're, we're all gonna help you face this."

"But he's better now. I swear. Look, you guys, he's the one that found the Glove of Myhnegon. H-he's keeping it safe for us in the mansion." Buffy pleaded with her friends.

"Right! Great plan. Leave tons of firepower with the Scary Guy, and leave us to clean up the mess." Xander made to leave the library, intent on doing something about Angel.

Buffy took him by the arm and spun him around to face her. "You would just love an excuse to hurt him, wouldn't you?"

Xander narrowed his eyes. "I don't need an excuse. I think lots of dead people actually constitutes a reason."

"That's enough!" Giles huffed. "Everybody. Now, Buffy knows our concerns, and her actions, however ill-advised, can be understood. Our... priority right now is to retrieve the Glove of Myhnegon and try to destroy it. Now, all of you, back to classes." Giles went into his office, his hands firmly stuffed into his pockets.

Buffy followed him and stopped by the office door. Buffy uneasily, "Thanks for the bail in there." Giles doesn't face her. "I know this is a lot to absorb, but Angel did find the glove, and that was a good... "

Giles interrupted, "Be quiet. I won't remind you that the fate of the world often lies with the Slayer. What would be the point? Nor shall I remind you that you've jeopardized the lives of all that you hold dear by harboring a known murderer. But sadly, I must remind you that Angel tortured me... for hours... for pleasure. You should have told me he was alive. You didn't and to think you've known since the day I sent you and Dean there to investigate…. You have no respect for me, or the job I perform." Buffy averted her eyes in shame. Giles turned back to his desk, sat down and leaned back in thought.

"Giles, he came back from Hell. Something brought him back. I just thought we should find out why." Buffy stood in the doorway for a long moment before leaving quietly.

That night in Pittsburgh…..

John entered the alley where just a month ago the werewolf attacked and killed three people. He was relieved Dean had agreed to let him draw the werewolf's attention. He crouched next to basement entrance and checked his weapon. John scanned the area, then looked to the building where Dean was positioned. He saw Dean's signal to indicate he was ready. They waited.

Moments later a man entered the alley checking his pockets cursing about lost keys. John worried, the man could put them all in danger. Suddenly, from the landing above the man, a large dark mass jumped onto the man and began to tear him to shreds. John fired his gun loaded with silver bullets quickly ending the attack. He left his hiding spot to check on the man, when the werewolf turned and growled at him. Seizing John by the arm, the werewolf lifted him and tossed him like a rag doll into the brick wall. As the wolf stalked after his new prey, Dean fired several rounds. However, he was unable to stop the wolf before it went after his father. Even from the fire escape, Dean could hear the sickening sounds of bones breaking. "Dad!" Dean shouted as he leapt to the ground.

The creature snarled in his direction and rushed at Dean. John raised his gun and fired again, finally, bringing the creature down, just inches from Dean. Then John slipped into unconsciousness.

In Sunnydale…..

At the Bronze, that night, Xander played pool to take his mind off of Buffy and Angel. Faith saw him and asked him if they had any new information about the glove.

"The Glove of Myhnegon?" Xander shook his head. "How'd you like a hit of some real news: Angel's still alive."

A shocked Faith replied, "The vampire?"

Xander nodded. "Back in town. Saw him myself. Toting the popular and famous glove. Buffy says he's clean. "

Faith was stunned. "Buffy knew he was alive. I can't believe her. Yeah, well, I say I deal with this problem right now. I say I slay."

Xander grinned, "Can I come?"

At Angel's mansion Buffy is forced to fight Faith to protect Angel. While they fought, Gwendolyn puts on the glove and begins to attack both slayers. With Angel's help, Faith and Buffy defeat and destroy Gwendolyn Post. Buffy and Faith have an uneasy truce over Angel, but Faith had lost her trust in Buffy.

The doctor approached the two young men in the small waiting room. They stood when they saw him. "Doc, uh, is he gonna be okay?" Dean asked as he studied the man's face to determine the truth.

The doctor nodded as he examined the two. It was obvious they hadn't slept during their father's operation. "Why don't you sit?"

Sam and Dean just exchanged looks. Dean narrowed his tired eyes "Why don't you just tell us how he is?"

"The operation went well. He's in recovery. You can see him, one at a time." Both boys sighed in relief. "A broken sternum takes a long time to heal, and we can't set that bone. But there's screws in his femur and his ankle, so he's gonna have to be off his feet for a good long time."

Dean nodded, "Thanks, Doc." He shook the man's hand. "Sam, go see him." When Sam went with the doctor, Dean sat in the chair and buried his head in his hands.

After a few more weeks, Buffy had nearly given up hope to hear from Dean when her mom told her she had gotten some mail. Buffy raced up the stairs to her room to find a postcard on her bed. On the front was an extremely obese elderly woman in a skimpy Pittsburgh Steelers bikini in front of what Buffy guessed was a stadium. Across the bottom of the card was written: The Weather is Here, Wish You Were Beautiful. Greetings from Sunny Pittsburgh. On the back, nothing but the letter D.

"What the..?" She looked it over a couple of times. "That's it? I write tons of letters, I call, and all I get is a crappy postcard of some ugly woman and a 'D'?" Buffy put the card in the trash.

At school, the next morning, Xander was making Oz and Willow laugh. Cordelia was just shaking her head, as Buffy approached. "It had five monkeys in bikinis and said something about prom queen. Cordy didn't like it."

"Didn't like what?" Buffy asked as she joined them.

"The card Dean sent Xander," Cordelia informed her over the laughing of Oz, Willow, and Xander. "He got two and is insisting that one is for me. Something about Dean calling me prom queen." Buffy gave her a tight smile. "Yeah, see, not so funny." Cordelia flipped her hair and took Xander's hand and walked off.

Buffy looked at Willow and Oz who were calming their laughs. "Dean sent me one with Albert Einstein sticking his tongue out and he wrote 'He's jealous that you're smarter than he is.' Tell Buffy about yours, Oz," Willow smiled.

"A bunch of monkeys playing instruments." To Buffy's raised brow, he added, "He wrote something about the Dingoes …" Seeing that Buffy wasn't even breaking a smile, Oz nodded. "Yeah, more a visual thing, I guess. Talk to ya later, babe." He kissed Willow on the cheek and walked away.

Willow looked nervously at Buffy. "Didn't you get a card, Buffy? I'm sorry, we all did and we thought they were funny. And what Dean wrote was funny." Willow laughed nervously.

"I got one, it just wasn't funny."

"Oh, sorry," Will shrugged.

Buffy sighed. "I don't get it Wills, I've written to him, I've called." She made a face. "He didn't even write anything on mine." Willow shared a sympathetic look.

"Dean, how the hell am I supposed to get up there?" John growled when Dean pulled into the lot of their 'apartment'.

"Part of the plan to make you stay put, like the doc said." Dean parked the Impala next to his father's truck.

Sam greeted them from the back door and wheeled a chair out to the car. John glowered at his sons. "Above a bar, yet. Perfect."

"Beggars can't be choosers." Dean and Sam each took a side and helped their father into the chair.

"Okay, Shirley's brother got the elevator to work, but it's not gonna hold all of us," Sam looked at Dean.

"'s okay, Sam, only needs to hold Dad." Dean pushed the chair to an outdoor lift that looked more like a crane bucket. Dean ignored the look his father was giving him and pushed the button to make the small car move up to the second floor. He told Sam, "Stay here," and ran inside, up the stairs to the landing. When his father arrived, Dean wheeled him in to their latest apartment. "Let's get you to your room."

John looked around the small flat. They'd stayed in worse places. "Dean, you don't have to," he began as he tried to push his chair.

Dean tried to ignore the grimace and pushed the chair instead. "You're in here. I put a TV and phone in here. I'll be back with all your stuff in a sec."

When Dean left, John hung his head, ashamed he had to make his kid take care of him like this.

Sam was already on the stairs with the bags from the car. "Hey, thanks, Sam." Dean said as he took them from him. "Look, I'll give him his meds and he should be out soon. All this moving should help tire him out. You need anything?"

Sam shook his head, "No, I'm good."

"Good, I gotta get to work, so if you're hungry just come down later. I'll get you guys something." Dean took the medicine bottles and some water into his father. "Alright, Dad, take these. I'm gonna leave the bottle here so if you need more you can get 'em. Sam'll be in the next room working on his school stuff. I'll just be downstairs at work so if you need something just call or have Sam call."

John nodded looking tired, "I'll be fine, Dean."

"Sorry, I'm late, Shirley. The release papers took longer than I thought." Dean wasted no time getting behind the bar and pouring beers to the regulars he saw.

"It's more important that you take care of your father instead of these drunks, Dean. Family first," the older woman nodded at him.

"Yes, ma'am." Dean winked at her and began taking drink orders from some patrons at the end of the bar.

Buffy sat in her room pouting, then pacing, then pouting. She took the postcard out of the trash and after looking it over the hundredth time, she crumpled it and threw it back into the thrash. Sitting at her desk, she took out a sheet of paper and wrote to Dean. After filling both sides of the paper, she felt tears welling in her eyes. She wiped at them and upon seeing her ring in her mirror's reflection she began to pull it off, only to be interrupted by Faith crawling through her window.

"Hey, B, what's up? You upset about something?"

Buffy sighed, "Not really," she folded the letter and stuffed it in an envelope.

Faith caught a glimpse of the address. "Hmpf, still writing to Dean, huh?"

Buffy shrugged, "Yeah, I guess. I think that may be the last one." She stood up and stretched. Looking at Faith, she began to grin. "Want to go slay something?"

"Now you're talkin'." Faith grinned behind Buffy's back.

Dean laughed as he took money away from a bar patron, "Dude, you should know better than to bet against the house, we always win."

The customer shook his head and turned to the owner, "Shirley, where'd you get this kid? He's cleaning me out?"

Shirley just rolled her eyes, "I thought y'all had learned not to play against Dean. The kid wins every game."

Dean grinned, "Wanna go again?" He pushed the dice cup in front of the man, who just raised a brow and turned away from him. Dean looked at Shirley and shrugged.

Shirley gave him a serious look and leaned in to whisper, "Dean, you oughta be careful. Ya could play against the wrong guy and really piss someone off."

Dean scoffed at her and poured a shot, "Hey, here ya go man. Good game."

The guy smiled at him and raised the glass in a toast. "I like this kid, Shirl. 'Bout time you hired decent help." Dean turned to Shirley and smirked, the woman could only shake her head.

That night at closing, Dean was carrying cases of beer from the basement, when Shirley heard a loud thud and an even louder curse. "Dammit, Shirley, that pipe's gonna be the death of me." Dean put the cases of beer down on the bar and rubbed his forehead.

"Well, it's been in the same place it's always been, can't figure out how you forget nearly every night," Shirley replied while she counted out the nights tips. She handed Dean a stack of bills.

"Thanks, Shirley," he said as he spilt the money into three piles. He then took an envelope from behind the register and scratched down an address.

"What're you doin'?" Shirley asked as she watched him.

"Oh, this" he held up the largest stack, "is mine. This" he held up a smaller stack," is Sammy's. And this," he held up the envelope, "is for a friend in California. She's a little broke and I'm making sure her rent is paid."

Shirley gave him a surprised look. Then hmphfed and turned from him.

"Whoa, Shirley, I don't know what you're thinking' but it's nothing bad." Seeing she didn't believe him. "Are you saying you think I'd abandon my baby momma?" Dean smiled hugely at the older woman. Shirley raised a skeptical brow at him and Dean roared with laughter. "Shirley, seriously, I'm just helping out a friend. She's got no family to look after her."

In Buffy's kitchen, Buffy was making microwave popcorn, while her mother had her hands full of college brochures. Joyce was excited, Buffy's SAT scores showed she could attend just about any college she chose. "Carnegie Mellon has a wonderful design curriculum. Oh, and Brown University's history program is... You like history, right?"

Buffy sighed, "Could we talk about this another time? All day it's been like, 'Congratulations! Go away.'"

Joyce frowned, "That's not it. It's just you belong at a, a good old-fashioned college with, with keg parties and boys, not here with Hellmouths and vampires."

Buffy gave her mom a skeptical look, "Not really seeing the distinction."

"You're always talking about how you wish you could lead a more normal life. Well, this is your chance!"

"Yeah, it's just not that simple," Buffy began, "I have responsibilities."

Joyce rolled her eyes, "I know, I know, but I spoke with Mr. Giles, and he said…" Buffy slumped her shoulders and looked at the ceiling, "That Faith could be Miss Sunnydale in the Slayer Pageant. I know."

Joyce nodded, "It's time to think about your future, Buffy, about your whole life. I mean, honestly, is there anything keeping you here?"

Later, Buffy visited Angel at his mansion and the discussion turned to her future. Angel tilted his head, "College, huh?"

Buffy nodded, "Higher education. Kind of an intense proposition."

"Where do you wanna go?"

Buffy shrugged, "I have no idea. My mom was the one that got all these brochures. She's so excited, she can't stop talking about it. I had a really hard time coming up with an alibi so I could come over here."

"She doesn't know about me." Angel gives Buffy a stern look.

"Big no. She's having enough trouble dealing with the Slayer issue. I don't think she's ready to process the information that... you and I are friends again. Anyway, I think this college jones is just a reaction to the whole Slayer thing."

Angel nodded, "She wants you to get out."

Buffy shrugged, "Someplace a little less Hellmouthy. She has a point. Y'know, but there are reasons to stay, too."

Angel began to feel hopeful, "What are they?"

Buffy didn't realize the effect her words had on him. "Um... you know, there's my Slayer duties, obviously. What do you think I should do?"

"As a friend, I think that you should leave." He walked to the fireplace with his back to her, "This is a good opportunity for you." He was beginning to realize that Buffy wanted to be no more than friends.

Buffy made a face, "Yeah. It's not like there's any great thing keeping me here."

In the kitchen at the Summers' house Joyce picked up the teakettle from the stove and took it over to the island, where she poured some into a cup for Spike to make hot chocolate.

Spike took it gratefully, "She just left. She didn't even care enough to cut off my head or set me on fire. I mean, is that too much to ask? You know? Some little sign that she cared?" He paused for a moment, "It was that truce with Buffy that did it. Dru said I'd gone soft. Wasn't demon enough for the likes of her. And I told her it didn't mean anything, I was thinking of her the whole time, but she didn't care. So, we got to Brazil, and she was... she was just different. I gave her everything: beautiful jewels, beautiful dresses with beautiful girls in them, but nothing made her happy. And she would fliiirt! I caught her on a park bench, making out with a *chaos* demon! Have you ever seen a chaos demon? They're all slime and antlers. They're disgusting." He looked at Joyce and pouted.

Joyce looked at him sympathetically and patted his hand, "There there, Spike. I'm sure.."

"She only did it to hurt me," He interrupted. "So I said, 'I'm not putting up with this anymore.' And she said, 'Fine!' And I said, 'Yeah, I've got an unlife, you know!' And then she said... she said we could still be friends." He took a deep breath to keep from crying. "God, I'm so unhappy! I mean, friends! How could she be so cruel? I mean, I thought we were going to make up, you know. "

Joyce sighed, "Well, she sounds very unreasonable."

Spike's eyes lit up at that, "She is. She's out of her mind. That's what I miss most about her."

Joyce made a confused face at his reply, but went on. "Well, Spike, sometimes even when two people seem right for each other, their lives just take different paths. Buffy's boyfriend, Dean, had to leave town recently to go help his father or something, but Buffy writes to him." She nodded at the mail on the opposite counter. "It doesn't mean that she…

"I thought she was with that Angel bloke," Spike interrupted.

Joyce shook her head, "No, not at all. But if Buffy and Dean can make it work, I'm sure you and your Dru can."

Spike nearly began to sob, "No, this is different. Our love was eternal. Literally." He composed himself then asked, "You got any of those little marshmallows?"

Joyce smiled at him, "Well, lemme look." When she got up to check, Spike reached for the mail and sort through it, tucking Buffy's letter to Dean into his coat.

Just at that moment Buffy walked in. Upon seeing Spike she slid the stake from her sleeve. She shoved Spike out of the chair onto the floor. "Spike, wanna tell me what you're doin in my kitchen?" She held the stake over him threateningly.

"Buffy!" Joyce admonished, pulling Buffy away from him. "Spike is going through a bad break up…Wait, I thought Spike was on our side."

"Not so much, Mom."

Spike rolled off the ground and grinned, "Well, Joyce, it's been lovely of you to listen to my troubles. Buffy, maybe if you had a kinder heart like your mother your boy would stick around." Spike ran to the door before Buffy could attack him again.

"You're pathetic, Spike. No wonder Dru left you!" Buffy called after him.

Early December.

Nine in the morning on a Sunday seemed too early to be getting phone calls, Buffy thought as she tried to stop yawning long enough to answer. "Mm, 'lo?"

"Buffy? Buffy, that you?" Buffy sat up she didn't recognize the voice on the other end, but it was far too chipper for her at this early hour. "Buffy?"

"Yeah, it's me. Who's this now?"

"It's me, it's Sam."

"Sam, Sam who - Winchester?" Buffy sat up, panic seizing her. Why would Sam be calling? Had something happened to Dean?

"Yeah, hey, how's it going? I just left the mail drop and got your letters. Dean's gonna be so psyched. It's gotta be well over a month since we got the mail."

Buffy sat up in her bed. "What, Sam? Where are you? What happened?"

"Yeah, we're still in Pittsburgh. That's like a day's drive to get the mail." Sam laughed. "So, we just couldn't just up and get it ya know? But since Dad's outta the hospital now, Dean let me go."

"Your dad was in the hospital? Oh my gosh, Sam, what happened? Is he okay?"

"Werewolf attack. Don't worry Dad killed it."

Buffy gasped thinking about Oz. , "But it's a person…"

"Wow, Dean said you'd say something like that. Like you'd have one for a pet. But this one had mauled lots of people. So he had to kill it, ya know? "

Buffy gasped again.

"I know, right? You're the only person I could say that to. I've had to tell everyone else he got hit by a car. So anyway, he got a bunch a broken bones. And, of course, we had to wait to see if he was gonna turn."

Buffy's stomach turned. "Sam, oh my god. How's…"

"Well, obviously he didn't turn, thank god. I mean I don't think I could shoot my own Dad, ya know? Don't even know if Dean could do it. So how's Sunnydale? Did you get our post cards? I stole 'em from the hospital gift shop. Well, Dean dared me to. But then we just had to mail 'em, we had been up for like thirty six hours cuz of Dad and we thought everything was hilarious, we were so punchy." Sam took a breath.

"Sam? Are you.."

"Yeah, I'm a little wired. Dean let me drive cuz he had to work. Can you believe that? He's got a job just like a regular person…"

"The Impala?" Buffy interrupted. "You're not even old enough.."

"Yeah, like that would ever happen," Sam huffed. "No, I got Dad's truck, not like he can drive anytime soon. So, anyway, I took a couple No Doz and some Mountain Dew and now I'm like going, ya know?"

"I'm getting the idea."

"Oh, I think I might lose service soon. Listen, Dean's gonna be trippin' over these letters. I just wanted to call and say he wasn't like blowing you off, we just couldn't get the mail and the phone -"

"Sam? Sam?"

"Buffy? Hey, that was weird. Anyway, we got a new phone you want the number?"

"Um, Sam, about those letters, you shouldn't worry Dean with them, you can toss them. I mean they're pretty old. Not that important anymore."

"What? No way. Like I said Dean is gonna be psyched to get these. All he does is work and take care of Dad. I don't think he's done any-"

"Sam? Sam?" All Buffy heard was a dial tone.

Buffy immediately dialed Willow, "Willow, sorry, I know you were sleeping, but, I gotta tell you what just happened."

"Sammy, geez, you took your time, didn't you?" Dean chided from the kitchenette. "Come on, I still got some mac and cheese you can finish."

Sam grinned as he strolled into the kitchen and dropped the pack of Buffy's letters on the table with a loud thud. "Seems like somebody missed you."

Dean spun at the noise. "What's all that?"

"Letters from Buffy. I put them in chronological order for you." Sam grinned as he grabbed a plate of mac and cheese.

Dean looked at the stack of letters then back to his brother. "You're shi- , uh, kidding, right?" He picked up a couple of them. "Guess she's pretty mad huh?"

"She sounded fine."

"What!" Dean spun glaring at his brother.

"I called her, I didn't want her to think you were blowin' her off." Sam devoured the last of the mac and cheese. "The number was still on your old phone." He shrugged.

Dean rolled his eyes and slumped into a chair. "Dude, you shouldn'ta called her. We …"

"Why? Buffy was fine," Sam waved off his brother's concern. "I told her about the werewolf and she said something like you thought she would. And I told her about the postcards…"

"Dude, caffeine much?"

"Shut up, Dean. What else is there to eat?" Sam walked to the fridge.

Dean picked up the other mail and carried it into his father. "Hey, Dad, Sam's back with the mail. Here."

John sat up and flipped through the envelopes. "What time you gotta go to work?"

Dean looked at the clock, he didn't have to work, but he thought he'd take the letters down and read them in some privacy. "Uh, about a half hour." John nodded.

Dean took the letters, went down to the bar, and sat in a back booth. The Steelers were playing a Monday night game so the bar wasn't as crowded as a normal Sunday. No one would notice him.

The first letter accused him of being a stubborn idiot for not picking up the phone, making him laugh. A couple more letters and he had the story of Gwen Price and the gang finding out about Angel. He felt vindicated reading that they weren't happy with Angel being back, though he wasn't happy that she had felt attacked. However, the 'Demons Anonymous' crack made him laugh. He sighed and leaned back in the booth. At least she had finally told Mr. Giles. He ripped open one more, finally finding what he had been expecting since he began reading.

Dear Dean or should I say Asshole,

What did I ever see in you? You think you're all that, but you're not. You're complete trash and I regret every moment we ever spent together. You're not even half the man Angel is. Angel is with me every night and even helps me with my Slayer duties. Don't bother calling or writing I never want to hear from you again.

I hope you rot in hell for eternity,

Buffy

Dean ran his thumb over the others in the pile wondering what she could have written beyond that one.

Shirley slid into the booth opposite him. "Watcha got there, sweetie? Love letters?" She smiled warmly. She loved teasing him.

"Uh, no. More like I hate you. I hope you die slowly and painfully," Dean folded up the letter and stacked the others together. "You need me to help out?" The bar wasn't busy at all.

Shirley was taken aback by Dean's solemn attitude. "It's your day off. Take it. What are you doing here anyway?"

"I didn't want to read these around Sammy. He's nosy." Dean gave her a pointed look.

Shirley patted his hand as she made to leave the booth, "Alright, I can take a hint, sweetie."

Dean groaned, rolling his head back, "Shirl, I didn't mean you. It's just, I don't know." He ran his hand over his head.

Shirley sighed, as a bartender she recognized the look on Dean's face. "You're a good guy, Dean. The way you look after your people," she paused. "People just don't do that anymore. If this girl can't see that, maybe she doesn't deserve you."

Dean gave Shirley a half smile, but looked away.

Shirley looked at the unopened letters. "Say what. You read those. Maybe, she just needed to tell you off. You know, she just needed to get something off her chest. Maybe she doesn't hate you after you read the rest."

Dean just rolled his eyes. Like he needed to read more about how much she hated him. Shirley left him alone with a pat on the shoulder. Dean gathered the letters, he had enough 'Dean bashing' for the day. He returned to the apartment to take care of his father.

Buffy sat in the kitchen with her mom, who was trying to understand Buffy's ramblings. "Let me see if I've got this, now. You're saying Dean never got any of your letters."

"Not til today."

"So, that's good? Right?"

"I don't know, Mom. The last letter I wrote, was after the post card I got and I was kinda mean."

Joyce nodded. "Okay, well, I think he'd understand. Why don't you call him instead?"

"The phone cut off before I got the number." Buffy pouted.

"Okay," Joyce sighed, "Why don't you just write another letter explaining everything to him?"

Buffy huffed, "Because he won't be getting mail again for awhile."

Joyce put her arm around her daughter and frowned sympathetically. "We'll figure something out."

The brunette Dean had pinned to the wall may have had a few years on him, but she didn't know that. Dean broke the kiss to check down the hall towards the bar. He hadn't been missed too much, yet. When he turned back to her, he whispered, "I got one more minute." Then he kissed her until she moaned around his tongue.

When Dean re-entered the bar proper Shirley gave him a raised eye brow. "Nice shade of lip gloss you're wearing, Dean O," she teased with a roll of her eyes.

Dean smirked, "I think it's cherry, wanna try it?" He leaned close to her wagging his eyebrows

Shirley swatted his arm. "If I wasn't old enough to be your mom's mom, I'd," she stopped herself.

Dean wiped at his mouth, then leaned closed enough to whisper in her ear, "You'd what, sweetheart?"

Shirley blushed and swatted at him again, "No wonder you make such good tips, you charm the birds right outta the trees."

Dean laughed, "And I keep the booze flowing." The brunette walked up with a folded napkin. Dean opened it and nodded, "Thank you," he winked. Once she was on the way out with her friends, he threw the napkin in the trash.

A guy leaned forward, "Dude, whadja do that for? She's hot." The guy then turned to try to catch another look at the girl.

"You can have it, man," Dean pointed to the trash and began to wipe down the bar.

"Hmpf, and here I thought you were broken up over that 'Dear John' you got," Shirley said with irritation as she waited for the drinks Dean was supposed to be making. Dean's smile left him instantly and Shirley was sad she had said anything. He handed her the drinks and walked to the other end of the bar to take some other orders.

At the end of the night, Shirley tried to get Dean to open up about the letters. "Did you even read the other letters?" she inquired while they washed and dried the night's glasses.

"Why bother? She made it pretty clear how she feels about me," Dean knew Shirley meant well, but he didn't want to discuss his love life with his boss/landlady.

"Well, making out with whores in the back hall ain't the way to get her back," Shirley reprimanded.

Dean tried not to look as angry as he was feeling. "I'm not getting her back. She wants nothing to do with me."

Shirley's brother, Dennis sat at the bar, watching them work, waiting for his sister to finish up. "Leave the kid alone, Shirley. He's young, let him sow a few wild oats."

"When I want your opinion I'll ask for it." She snapped at her brother.

"Don't remember Dean asking for yours," Dennis said with a small grin that he shared with Dean. Turning to the younger man, Dennis nodded, "You want the girl back you gotta do something big, make a grand gesture." He spread his arms wide nearly knocking several freshly washed glasses to the floor.

"Really? Like what?" Dean kept to his glass washing chore.

"Send roses," Dennis said with a nod.

Dean raised a brow. "Did that for our last fight. She came back with let's just be friends." Dennis winced. "Yeah," Dean nodded.

"Well, you got her back after that, wha'ja do?" Shirley asked. She put her towel down and studied Dean.

Dean sighed. "I drove cross country 'cause she was having a rough time and needed a shoulder to cry on."

Dennis nodded and pointed to Dean, "Now, that's a grand gesture." Dean shrugged.

"Shut up, ya old drunk," Shirley threw her towel at her brother. "Dean," she held his arm. "I know you can't go leaving your Dad and Sam right now, but if you really want this girl back, you could start by calling her." She turned to her brother, "Come on, Dennis, walk me home." She gave Dean a quick hug and grabbed her coat. "Lock up for me, sweetie?"

"Sure thing, Shirley."

Dean dragged himself back to the small apartment above the bar after closing. He was too exhausted to sleep. He checked on his dad, thankful he was at least under the same roof. Sam was out cold in the other room. Dean lay on the couch and looked at the clock. It'd be nearly 1am in Sunnydale, Buffy would probably just be getting in from the Bronze or from slaying. Dean sighed, not that it mattered since she hated him and he was stuck in Pittsburgh. Then he realized that she was probably with Angel.

Joyce had spent two days on the phone. The first call she had to make was to her ex-husband, Hank. She knew he wouldn't be happy with her request to give up Buffy for the Christmas break, but he would just have to deal with it. Her next call was to Mr. Giles. She was happy to learn that he agreed with her and gave her the number of his contact in Minnesota. When Joyce finished her call with the man in Minnesota, she felt even more confident of her decision. However, the jovial minister wouldn't give her any numbers, just promised to have someone call her. Another day passed and Joyce became worried that she wouldn't have time to make all the preparations required for her plan. Finally, she got the call that made the waiting all worth while.

Christmas morning was a depressing one for Buffy and her friends. Everyone had broken up and Buffy's dad had told her he wouldn't be able to take her for the school break as promised. She tried not to pout at she sat by the trimmed poinsettia plant. Joyce was going to Cabo over break with her friends from book club, so no tree for the Summers' house. Buffy smiled and handed her mom a small box. Inside, Joyce found a lovely necklace with a silver cross hanging from it. "It's lovely, Buffy, thank you." Joyce put it on immediately.

"Glad you like it, mom. It'll help keep you safe, too." Buffy hoped the dual purpose wouldn't dampen her mom's enjoyment of the necklace.

Joyce handed her a sweater sized box with a smile. "Here, honey, I hope you like it."

Buffy smiled and tore off the paper, opening the box to reveal a cream colored cashmere sweater. "Thanks, mom, it's pretty." She smiled and put the box down. Not much of a Christmas.

"Hold it up, let me see if it fits," Joyce put her coffee down and leaned back in her chair to watch Buffy.

"Okay." Buffy rolled her eyes but decided to please her mom. As she held up the sweater, she found an envelope in the box. With a questioning look at her mom, she opened it. Her mouth fell open, "Mom?"

Joyce smiled, "Merry Christmas, Sweetie." Buffy threw her arms around her mom letting her sweater fall to the ground.

Dean volunteered to work Christmas so that Shirley could spend the holiday with her family. The bar was open, though there were very few customers. Even John agreed to hobble on his crutches to sit down with his sons in the bar. Sam left early to join a girlfriend's family for dinner. John was weary of the place before Dean was able to close, so he took himself back to their apartment, leaving Dean alone with the Christmas drunks. As the night grew later and the bar emptied, Dean fiddled with his phone and thought about making a call. Figuring the holiday was making him feel sappy, he decided against it.

The bar had it's holiday party on the twenty sixth. Dean and Sam spent the day decorating the bar more than it already was. Shirley handed Dean a box of lights making him hang them around the bar to substitute for the other bar lights. Shirley had Sam hang mistletoe in various locations. After they had finished, she put Sam to work on snacks and Dean began making the drink specials. She turned on the Christmas music and opened the door at five for the crowd of hard drinking regulars.

For Dean, the night dragged on. Since it was a 'customer appreciation' party, he wasn't getting tips and the crowd was mostly former steel workers not the girls that frequented the place on the weekends. At the end of the night, he and Shirley finished off the eggnog. Shirley laughed at the face Dean made when he tasted it. "You look like you don't like it, Dean."

"Is it supposed to taste like kerosene and creamer?" he coughed.

"You don't have to drink it," Shirley laughed. "Have a beer." Dean nodded his thanks, opened a Lite, and put the eggnog cup in the sink. "Did you have a nice Christmas, dear?"

"Yeah, it was great," Dean smirked. "How was yours with your family?"

"Wonderful." She smiled pleasantly, "Before I forget, could you go down and get the beer to restock the coolers? Oh, and change any barrels that need it too, sweetie."

Dean's eyes widened, "Wow, you're a regular slave driver, today." However, he did as he was told and left for the basement.

The moment he left, Shirley began to pace. She hurriedly wiped down the bar and straightened up the best she could keeping an eye on the door. At the point when she thought she'd have a nervous breakdown, a girl walked in, looking around shyly. The older woman smiled, "You must be Buffy."

Buffy nodded, "Shirley?" Shirley nodded then directed Buffy to a seat at the bar and sat next to her. She looked the girl over and Buffy shifted under the judgmental stare down. "So, uh, where's De-"

"Look, sweetie," Shirley interrupted, "the only reason I agreed to this is cuz I'm a hopeless romantic and this is the kinda stuff I love. But just so you know, that boy ain't trash and" there was a thud followed by a curse before she could finish. "That's him, now."

Dean put the cases of beer on the bar and rubbed his forehead. "Shirley, you're gonna need to call the distributor tomorrow or we won't be able to get through the weekend, let alone New Year's."

Shirley's eyes hadn't left Buffy and Buffy's adoration of Dean was clear on her face. Shirley smiled to herself, relieved. "Okay, Dean, I'll call him in the morning. Uh, sweetie, you have company." She patted Buffy's hand and left her stool, walked around to the back of the bar by Dean.

Dean turned with a question on his face, until he saw Buffy. Then his face went blank and he looked at Shirley. She shrugged, "Grand gesture."

Dean raised a brow, "Right." He turned to Buffy, and rubbed a hand over his head. "Look, I gotta walk Shirley home, but I'll be right back. She only lives across the street." He pointed and grabbed Shirley's coat handing it to her.

"You don't have to, sweetie, I'm a big girl. Stay here with your company."

Dean glared at her, "Right, and you fall on the ice and your family will kill me." He held out his arm and ushered her out the door taking a quick look at Buffy before he left.

"What's she doing here, Shirley?"

"Well, my guess is, she's here to see you. Of course, you'd have to ask her to be sure." They had arrived at her door and Shirley let him open it for her. She patted Dean's cheek, and smiled slightly, "It's a Christmas miracle." Dean shook his head at her lame joke.

Back in the bar, Dean rubbed his hands together to warm them. He gave Buffy a tight smile and went behind the bar. "I've gotta stock the cooler, so, uh, why don't you come down here." After she took another seat at the bar, Dean looked up at her, "What are you doing here?"

"Merry Christmas?" she shrugged smiling hopefully.

Dean sighed, "Yeah, you, too. But seriously now, what, is there a job you need help with?" He continued stocking the cooler, trying not to look at her.

Buffy looked confused, "No, I'm here to see you. The plane ticket was my Christmas present from my parents."

Trying to ease the tension he was feeling, Dean joked, "You musta been really naughty this year. Who actually wants to leave sunny California for winter in Pittsburgh?"

Buffy laughed nervously, "I thought it was a great present, but I take it you had no idea I was coming."

"Yeah, no, I had no idea," He began to move the empty cases to the other end of the bar. Then he took out some paper and started to write. Buffy studied him, saddened that he didn't seem at all happy to see her. He turned to her suddenly, "I don't get it. Why are you here? Why would you want to come out here on your vacation?" He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter behind the bar.

Buffy looked troubled, "You don't want me here, do you."

Dean looked down for a minute, unsure of how to answer. "You told me to go to hell, that you never wanted to see me again." He stopped himself and looked at her a moment. She looked confused. "It's really late. I'll drive you to your hotel. Maybe we can talk tomorrow." He pushed off the counter.

"I'm not staying at a hotel. I'm staying here, uh, room 202," Buffy answered. She turned on her stool to face him now that he was on the same side of the bar as her. "Dean, I never told you to go to hell. I don't know what you're talking about."

"The letter. The one where you called me trash and an asshole, regretted ever being with me," he paused and took a breath. "Look, so our folks didn't know and thought they were doing us a favor." He shrugged. "It's cool. I'll show you to-"

"Dean, I never, I didn't write that," Buffy was in shock. Her breath caught in her throat and she blinked back tears. "I could never even think something like that about you, Dean." She reached out for him, but let her hand drop.

Dean stared at her a moment, trying to process what she was saying. "You didn't write that?" Buffy shook her head. "It was with the rest of your letters that Sam picked up."

"I don't know what to tell you, Dean, but I swear I didn't write that." Dean could see she was on the verge of tears.

Dean looked at her and nodded. "Okay, you say you didn't write it, you didn't write it." He took a deep breath, "Are you with Angel?"

Buffy leaned back blinking, "What? No, of course not. I wouldn't be here if I was."

Dean nodded and stepped closer to her. He looked at the floor for a minute. With his head still down, he said, "I didn't even read the rest of the letters after that one."

Buffy sniffed. She tilted her head, trying to get him to look at her. "Dean, I'm sorry you thought that I - "

But Dean interrupted her, "I should have called." He looked up at her and stepped closer, still. "I was just so angry about Angel, I didn't want to say something I'd regret. And then with my dad getting hurt, I got kinda busy. Then, I couldn't call after that letter." Buffy reached out and took his hands in hers. Dean saw she was still wearing his ring and smiled up at her. "Can't believe you're really here."

Buffy smiled widely, "Me either."

She pulled him closer and he stepped between her legs. He leaned in and kissed her gently. "Merry Christmas, Buffy."

"Merry Christmas, Dean."