TITLE: Reflections - Angel

SYNOPSIS: Angel visits Buffy's grave on his way back to L.A. from the monastery.

AUTHOR: Sara (so don't steal it! not that you would want to but still!)
E-MAIL: buffyased20@yahoo.com
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything that I can be sued for, for saying I own! (does that make sense?)
TIMELINE: After The Gift, before Heartthrob                                                              

SPOILERS: Uhm, not really. I don't think! FEEDBACK: PLEASE SEND ME FEEEDBACK! :):) I thrive on it plus it motivates me to keep writing!
RATING: er dunno..PG

It wasn't right. She had spent so much of her life in the dark...it seemed almost like a punishment to place her in the ground...eternal darkness.

Angel stood at the edge of the grave. Months old but it still seemed so fresh. Her headstone was smooth...gleaming in the moonlight. *She saved the world a lot* it read. He wondered which one of her friends decided on that engraving. Probably Willow...he wondered how she was taking it now. When she had been in L.A. three months before, she was grief stricken. Almost unconsolable. Well...so was he.  He had been so distraught he had broken almost every lamp and piece of furniture in the hotel lobby. He had left...gone to Sri Lanka to find some peace at a monastery. Now he was on his way home...but he couldn't resist coming to Sunnydale, to finally say goodbye to her.

Angel stared hard at the headstone...thinking that maybe if he stared long and wished hard enough, she would come back somehow.  Even in his months of grieving...of accepting, he still believed he would wake up in his bed at Hyperion and it would have all been a dream. But the cold truth was, she was gone. Really gone. He remembered when he lost her the first time...only for a few mere seconds, but in those seconds he could feel his own life start to slip away. The world hadn't made sense without Buffy in it.

Angel slipped his cold hands into his jacket pockets, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He had almost lost her then, and then he had her again. She had loved him, changed him. She made him the man he was today. Without her, he would still be eating rats in the alley. Or he would be dead. She gave him everything, her body, her heart, her soul. And he had left her.

He could still remember it, the night he walked away. She had turned, searching through the ash and smoke until their eyes met. His were filled with regret and heartache as hers pleaded with him to stay...but at the same time showed understanding.

For the first few months he was away, it was almost unbearable. He couldn't sleep at night, his hand ached to reached for the phone and call her, if only to just hear her voice. And then the Powers That Be had given him that day. Where he was human, and she was his completely his. They had eaten ice cream and made love all day. And she had slept peacefully in his arms. That day he had been convinced heaven exsisted. And just like that, it was gone as well. He carried the burden of that day in him since. He had the day taken away...he asked to be turned back into what he had been. Just to spare Buffy's life.

With a harsh laugh, Angel clenched his hands. It didn't make a difference did it? He gave her up to save her, and she was dead. Would things be different had he stayed human? Would she be with him today, holding him, loving him? Was that one decision the reason she lay silent and cold in the ground?

It was easier to blame himself. He had finally begun to get somewhere. His heart was mending from all the angst he shared with Buffy. Oh, he still loved her, he would never love anyone else, but his life began to revolve around his buisness and his friends. And Buffy became a dull ache in the back of his mind and heart. And then he walked through the doors and saw Willow, and in an instant guilt and pain washed through him. Pain that he would never see her again, smell her again. And guilt that he had begun to forget...and guilt that he hadn't been there when it happened. He hadn't saved her...or died with her.

Angel slowly walked over to the headstone...kneeling beside it, his hand running across her engraved name. Buffy Anne Summers. Tears threatened to spill over and Angel quickly blinked them back. It was time to start the healing process. He had come here to do what he had to do. Say goodbye.

"I love you, Buffy." he whispered. Someday, hopefully, he would be with her.  Forever. After all, he thought, as he stood, wasn't that the whole point?