Buffy arrived at Angel's apartment, and froze. A tall figure loomed in the doorway, a tall familiar figure. She turned around, and made to leave, but moments later felt a large hand take hold of hers. She drew in a quick breath, and turned to look down at her hand entwined with his. She began to cry, and tried to pry her hand away from his.

"Buffy, please…" Angel's voice was deep and choked. Still not facing him, she answered.

"Angel, I came to give something back to you." She uncurled her other hand, revealing the cross. Seeing it, Angel shook his head.

"No, Buffy, it's yours. It's always yours."

"Angel I can't do this!" Her hurt surfaced quickly, loudly voicing itself to the world.

"I can't have anything that reminds me of you. I have to get over you, and I can't if I'm able to hold this cross anytime I want."

"Buffy, I want you to have it, that's why I gave it to you."

Buffy remained silent, and sniffled softly. Angel, realizing he was still holding Buffy's hand, sadly let go. On instinct, Buffy turned and spoke to Angel:

"D-Don't let go… p-please…" she finished lamely.

"Well, you're probably going to want some space… and I'm probably not helping-" He paused, and then quickly added: "-and I didn't want to let go."

He looked into her eyes, she looked so tired. He wished he could just take her into his arms and let her relax, finally.

Awkward minutes passed, and Buffy suddenly realized she was shivering. Night had fallen some time ago, its dark depths normally welcoming for Buffy because it brought her into the strong embrace of Angel. No more.

Finally, Angel spoke:

"Buffy, I…"

"I want to know why." Buffy interrupted. "Why are you leaving me?"

"I…"

"I mean, am I that meaningless to you now? Did what we have mean nothing to you?"

"You know that's not true."

Silence greeted his words.

"Buffy, I'm leaving because I want you to have the life you deserve. You deserve a life that I can't possibly give you, as much as I want to. Do you think I'm happy that I can't be the one to look after you, to be with you?"

Rubbing her arms with her hands, Buffy shuddered suddenly.

"You're cold." Angel said automatically.

"I'm fine…"

"No you're not. You can't keep pretending that you're fine when you're not." Angel's voice grew desperate. "Let me in."

Buffy silently agreed, but she was just coming to terms with having to cope without Angel, she had shut a door in her heart so quickly and violently that she feared she wouldn't be able to open it again.

"Buffy, I'll be right back, stay here."

Buffy casually leant against the wall, watching Angel as he passed over the threshold of his apartment. He returned a short while later with a large black jumper, his own, and a hot cup of tea.

"Here."

Gratefully, she clasped the mug in both hands, feeling its warmth. She inhaled sharply as she felt cold fingers, Angels hand was still on the mug. Slowly, Angel pulled his hand out from under Buffy's', and moved back to lean against the doorframe. She finished her tea, and Angel moved toward her, taking the mug from her and gently placing his jumper over her head. Instantly, Buffy was overwhelmed by his scent. The sleeves were far too long, and her hands were lost inside them. Chuckling softly, Angel slowly pushed the sleeves up her arms, to rest in the crook of her elbows. He could feel her smooth skin, and retracted his hand a little too quickly.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? For breaking up with me? For leaving town? You know what, its fine. I'll be fine, I'm the Slayer remember? I'll deal." She turned and began to walk when Angel called to her:

"Buffy, it's late, stay here for the night, or what's left of it."

She turned slowly, anger rising.

"You know, the fact that you're doing this just makes it worse. And I'm ignoring the fact that you listened to the Mayor instead of me. You'd rather side with evil than with me!"

Vaguely, Angel realized the sun was coming up, and he knew he'd have to move inside within the next few minutes.

"Buffy please, just come inside…"

"No."

She began to walk away, and Angel, ignoring the sunrise, moved to grab her hand. She shook him off.

"Leave me alone! If I can't have all of you, then I won't have any of you!"

"Buffy, PLEASE!" Angel moaned.

She walked straight out into the sunlight, Angel still held her arm.

"Angel, what are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Angels arm, now exposed to the sunlight was burning, and Buffy was panicking at the sight of it.

"Angel, go inside!"

"Not – without – you." His voice was calm, but marred by winces of pain.

Buffy suddenly launched herself at Angel, pushing him into his apartment. They both fell over the threshold, Angel underneath.

"Oh God Angel." Buffy was looking at Angel's forearm, it was badly burnt, and was still smoking.

"It's nothing, I'm fine."

"Now who's a hypocrite?"

"C'mon, we need to get you cleaned up."