Disclaimer: I don't own 'em! I can only wish.and dream.and fantasize.*eg*
Author's Notes: This song is called "I Do" by Jude and it just fit so perfectly I couldn't help it. This is a pretty sappy, sad fic. But hey, that's what songfics are for, right? Uh.yeah. It's 1 in the morning. This has not been beta read sorry.
Dedication: For Shaye, who thought the song was J/A and therefore gave me the idea.and who needs to beta read my x-over! And Gen, who put me in a depressed mood with my fic, therefore spurring further angst! You know I love you! ;)

I got a letter today
An invitation
And the writing looked like you
Hello how are you and by the way
Please RSVP I do/

It came in with all the other mail; just one more small, white envelope along with the payments and bills, thank yous and demon newsletters. Cordelia threw it in the 'Random personal letters' pile. It didn't have a return address. Angel probably wouldn't have seen it in time except he spilled the tray it was sitting in, along with a cup of coffee. After wiping up the hot liquid-it was a wooden floor, luckily-he begun to pick up the envelopes, which had mostly escaped the espresso. His hand paused on one, a hand-addressed white envelope, with his name and address on it in familiar writing. He didn't know who it was from, not at first, but something about the shape of letters in his name was familiar, as if speaking to him across years.

He opened it.

The invitation was beautiful, with ivy vines and roses framing the names. Inside was the usual information-time, date, place, a number to RSVP to. And a note, scrawled hastily at the bottom-Hello Angel, how are you? I know I haven't written lately.I'd love if you could come, we could catch up. And then her name. And that was all. Nothing about the man she was marrying, or what they once had. Well, what had he been expecting? He hadn't seen her for six years. They hadn't talked or written for over three.

And yet it still hurt, to see his name in that messy, lovely handwriting, the quick note, as if it was an afterthought. Did she write notes on all of them? he wondered. He knew it was a peace offering. They'd argued in the past, about a lot of things. This was her way of saying she was sorry, that he was right. An invitation to witness the joy she had found because he had the strength to leave her.

I thought of writing sad words of how it used to be
But I didn't want to bring you down, no
I guess the bells will ring pretty well there without me
Don't worry 'bout me baby I'll wear the thorny crown
I will play the clown/

"What's that?" Cordelia asked, walking into the room balancing a double espresso mocha latté in one hand and a huge book on demons in the other. Angel realized he'd been standing there, staring at the invitation for well over ten minutes. He offered it to her mutely and she made a sound of annoyance, setting down the book heavily so she could take the note and read it. "Wow," she remarked after a moment, and looked up, scrutinizing him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Angel replied, though he wasn't sure it was the truth. He wasn't sure it wasn't either.

"You gonna go?" Cordelia asked, her eyes and tone gentle. Angel shook his head. There were reasons to go.but more not to. Part of him longed for it, to go see her one last time, to see that she was happy and well cared for.but he was afraid as well. He was afraid that if he went he would not be able to stay away. He was afraid he would pour out his heart to her, tell her how much he still loved her, how much he had always loved her, and she would be hurt or confused, or sad for him. This would be better. She didn't need him there. Maybe she invited him to assauge her own guilt for moving on; whatever it was that had made her put him on the guest list, it was not need that had driven her. She'd be just fine without him there, watching. So he would supress his desire to see her again, he would stay home and brood, as he so often did, despite Cordelia's efforts.

If you think that I don't love you, you're just wrong
And that don't matter now anyway
I couldn't bear to see you up there with a white dress on
Here's my vow to you
I'll stay away/

"That handwriting." Cordelia murmured. She walked over to the desk and began rummaging through the file he'd picked up off the floor. A moment later she turned back, another envelope in hand, and eyed him. "I don't think this is another invitation," she said.

"I can handle it," Angel promised. Cordelia handed it over. It was the same handwriting on the address, and still no return address. Angel turned it over and opened it, pulling out the vanilla scented stationary. He unfolded it and began reading the letter that she had written him on the eve of her wedding.

Dear Angel,

This is probably coming as a bit of a shock to you. You probably never thought I'd get married.I certainly never did. Well, not after you left anyway. Not for a long time. I'm sorry if you're hurt by it, that was never my intention. In fact, I would assume you're fine, since the last time we met you told me in no uncertain terms you didn't want to be with me. Oh, I know it was for my own good. In fact, I'd like to thank you. I have finally found that normal life you always wanted for me so much. I hope that brings you some kind of joy, or at least peace. You did the right thing, Angel. I was wrong on insisting we try again when we had failed so spectacularly so many times before.

I never got over my feelings for you Angel. I don't think I ever could. You were my first love. I hope you remember me with some fondness at least. And I hope you come. I would like to see you again, if only to say goodbye again, fondly this time. My memory of our last goodbye is not exactly pleasant.

Please be happy for me Angel. It would make the day perfect if you could come and be that. If not, I understand.I just want you to know that Garric is a good man, a wonderful man. I would also like you to meet him, if you're up for it. I've told him about you and he would really like to meet you.

I will hopefully see you soon,
Buffy

I remember when in a lover's whisper you said
No other man would ever share your bed
Well we both know that's not been so
And I wish I'd never let you go now
You found a better man instead/

Angel set the letter down gently on the table, amazed that she could think that of him. She really believed he had done what he had done because he didn't care for her? She really believed he might not remember her even with fondness.or only with fondness? Angel wondered how much of what she'd written was true and how much was her own delusions, to make her feel better, or make him feel so.

He did know that he regretted letting her go, regretted driving her away with every fibre of his being.

She was marrying another man. A good man. A man that wanted to meet him. Him. The former boyfriend of the woman he was about to marry. The guy must be a saint. Or maybe he didn't know they'd been lovers.whatever it was, Angel knew Buffy wouldn't be getting married unless she was really in love, really, truly happy. Which didn't help a lot, but if did help. It kept him away. If he'd thought for an instant she was unhappy doing this he would be there, begging her not to go through with it, assuring her of his undying love. But it was better this way.

I wish you health and wealth and a white house on a hill and I
I hope you raise a family
Little boy and a little girl, a little more joy in
this little old world
Well, that'd be enough for me/

Angel excused himself from Cordelia and went to his desk, taking out a pen and a sheet of paper. He wasn't sure what to say, except he had to say something. He thought of telling her the truth, of reminding her of what they once had. He thought of telling her they were meant for each other. He didn't.

Congratulations, he wrote. I am happy for you.

I can't come to the wedding, I'm sorry. I would enjoy meeting Garric and seeing everyone again, but duty calls and I am previously engaged for that day.

That part was a lie.

As to the past.well, it's just that, the past. Times goes on. I am glad I was proved right. I knew there was happiness waiting for you in the world. You're just that kind of person. I hope your life turns out as perfect as they come. Drop me a card if you have any children.I hope you do. The world needs more little Buffys. Laugh as much as possible. Love your husband. Call me if you ever feel like it.

I'll always love you,
Angel

And the rest of it was all too true.

If you think that I don't love you, you're just wrong
And that don't matter now anyway
I couldn't bear to see you up there with a white dress on
Here's my vow to you
I'll stay away/

He thought about watching her walk up the aisle, and look into another man's face with radiant eyes and announce to the world that she would love, honor and cherish him until she died. The thought hurt. It ached in his bones. No, this was better. If he went, he was not at all sure he would be able to watch. He was not at all sure he would be able to keep silent when the priest asked if anyone had any objections.

He stared at the letter, adding a silent postscript: here is my wedding present. I will stay far, far away for as long as is needed. Forever if need be. I will let you have your happy, beautiful life. I will not tell you how much I need you.

The letter was folded and sealed in an envelope; the envelope addressed. After a moments thought Angel went downstairs to his apartment and found a small box he'd nearly forgotten he had. Nestled inside was a ring, a ring Buffy had lost long ago. It was time for her to have it again, for memory's sake. He scrawled an extra note and packaged it up with the ring and the letter. It said: I found this a long time ago. Give it to your daughter someday. Remember me.

Time rolls on
And dreams they die
And I've thrown out the pictures I had of you and I
And if you're ever wondering if love can be true
Well, think of me and remember darling like I, like I do/

The package was sent and Angel went out to dinner with Cordelia and Wesley, and talked about world events and Cordelia's latest commerical. He didn't think about her much, because there were other things to think about.

Angel had long since ceased dreaming of a life with Buffy. Someday he would become human, but not for a long time yet. By then, she would probably be old, even dead. It was better this way. He had a life now, separate from her. He didn't keep pictures of her everywhere. He didn't sit at home at night, wondering what she was doing.

He loved her still, forever, fiercely, but that love was now as much a part of his as his need for blood to stay alive, or the way he collected art for his apartment and office, just so he could look at it and be reminded of the beauty of the world. He didn't know how she felt anymore; the same way, he hoped. He hoped she knew that he still loved her, and always would.

Mostly he hoped that she was happy, and that she cried at her wedding, tears of perfect joy.

Old friendships fade away, love falls apart
And you've not spent a single day outside my heart
But, there's just one more dream that I have left for you
I hope you're smiling when he turns around and says I do./

Go to the sequel, Rings

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