"Can't Say Goodbye"
Author: Michelle
Email: michellabella52478@yahoo.com
He'd been standing there for five minutes, next to the fire trucks that were called after the explosion. The mayor was dead, blown to bits after Buffy blew up the school, and all the vampires were dust, thanks to himself, his gang and the Slayerettes. His work in Sunnydale was now finished.But he couldn't leave yet. Not until he saw Buffy one last time. His work may be done, but his heart wouldn't let him leave the Slayer. She had risked her own life to save his. He owed her a good-bye; a proper good-bye, not just the awkward conversation they shared in the library before the graduation.
Then he saw her. She stood in the open space between the ambulances and fire trucks, talking to Xander. She looked around during the length of the conversation. He chose to remain hidden for a while, not ready to reveal himself quite yet. He wanted to watch Buffy in secret.
Xander left a few minutes later, then Giles joined her. They spoke for several minutes. From his distance, he could see the toll the battle had taken on her. She looked more tired than he had ever seen her. Worn, tired and ragged.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to him, she stood alone in the street. People milled behind her, to and from the vehicles near Buffy. He stepped out of the shadows. Not wanting to call out to her, he willed her to turn around and see him. Almost by some higher power, she turned, looking in his direction.
Their eyes met through the din, darkness and fog. He could feel the electricity, the heat between them. His face felt hot to the point where he was afraid his might burst. He wondered if perhaps she was experiencing the same thing. If his heart hadn't stopped beating in Ireland nearly 245 year earlier, it might have been beating 200 times a minute. His pulse would have raced uncontrollably.
He tried to think of the right words to say. Everything he though of sounded foolish or juvenile to him. He would wait for her to decide what should be said. Standing there, waiting for Buffy to say something, he simply stared at her, memorizing every insignificant detail of her face. She said nothing. Maybe I should just say good-bye, he considered. No, that's too clumsy. Think! And he thought of nothing. They continued gazing into each other's eyes. He knew he would have to leave soon. His arms ached to hold her close to him, his body ached to feel her heart beating against his chest. It took every ounce of strength within him to keep from running to her.
He walked in the opposite direction, seemingly stoic. The people who walked past him never heard the crying nor saw the tears that evaporated before they reached the ground.
The mansion was dark, but Angel had no trouble finding his way around. His vampire eyesight made night vision a non-issue. Once he closed the curtains that separated him from the outside world, he headed into his bedroom. Three opened suitcases lay on his bed, each filled with clothing he planned to take with him to Los Angeles. Everything was ready for the journey. His clothes were packed, much of his furniture was in a storage garage, and his car had a full tank of gas.
On his bed stand stood a framed picture of Buffy and Willow. He couldn't recall ever taking the picture; it had been taken during his time as Angelus. Angel found it in the sitting room when he returned from hell. Since he discovered it, every morning before he went to sleep he would kiss the picture of Buffy, if he wasn't able to kiss the real her.
He took the picture from the bed stand and placed it in one of the suitcases. To prevent it from breaking, Angel packed a few shirts on top of the glass frame. With that and a glance around his room, almost everything was ready.
One more thing remained to be done before Angel packed his car and left Sunnydale. Dropping his suitcases on the tiled floor, he sat down at his desk, then proceeded to take out a piece of paper and a ball-point pen. He wasn't able to say good-bye to Buffy face-to-face, but he hoped to do so with a letter. Angel began the hardest writing of his exceptionally-long life.
My dearest Buffy,
I wasn't able to say good-bye to you earlier. I didn't want to. I'm leaving Sunnydale tonight, but I will be back. Someday. Perhaps by then, this whole experience, including your memories of me, will be a thing of the past.
Get on with your life. Have fun; live. Date. Get married, have lots of children and grandchildren. And do your best to forget about us. But remember that you were loved unconditionally by a man who will never forget you.
Angel read it over before signing his name to it. "I can't let Buffy read this." He balled it and threw it in the wastepaper basket. Several more attempts followed, but each ended in the same place as the original. For what seemed like hours he sat there until he finally came up with the right words.
Between his tears and his loving memories, Angel managed to write Buffy the perfect good-bye letter. He wrote exactly what his heart felt, not daring to hold back. He signed his name at the bottom of it and placed it in an envelope before he had the time to change his mind.
Scooping up his suitcases, Angel turned to look at the mansion for what would probably be the last time for a very long time. Sighing, he turned out the lights and left.
A piece of paper lay on the desk for someone to find. I don't know what it is that makes me love you so
I only know I never want to let you go
'Cause you started something, can't you see
That ever since we met you've had a hold on me
It doesn't matter where you go or what you do
I want to spend each moment of the day with you
Look what has happened with just one kiss
I never knew that I could be in love like this
It's crazy but it's true
I only want to be with you
The End