DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just tell me where it's going!
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, it all belongs to Joss and a bunch of other people that I really don't feel like naming right now:)
SPOILERS: All seasons
FEEDBACK: Always appreciated!!!! Flames will be used to burn the pot roast *g*
RATING: PG
DEDICATION: To my mom, because she made a few suggestions and I'm now fully free of writer's block:)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Follows "Temporary Replacement" and "Wishes to the Stars" and "Forgotten Memories" I haven't decided on a title for this whole series, so any suggestions are appreciated!

The vampire sighed as he sat back in his reclining chair, gazing about the small closure that passed for an office, which was lost in the murky and dismal darkness that he had grown accustomed to.

He appeared lost in thought, as he usually was, and he wore what Cordelia would call his 'Buffy face'. His lips were quirked up in a tiny smile that would go unnoticed to the casual observer, and his eyes remained intent on something in front of him that only he could see.

A single window that sat behind him, usually blocked away by a curtain and plastic blinds, was now open. The moonlight streamed into the room and onto the floor in front of him, and the ethereal light flooded his office, creating unnatural and somewhat frightening images that danced about the room.

In front of him sat a simple black and white picture frame, and in that frame was a photo of the most important person in his life. Or rather, un-life. He had managed to sneak into her room and pick it up from her dresser, yet he was surprised that she hadn't noticed he was there.

"Maybe she did know." He mused aloud. It would have been a great relief to know that she had known he was taking something of hers, and that she let him, wanting him to remember her.

It gave him a small hope, that maybe he could atone for his sins and come back to her, greeting her with open arms.

But then, that only happened in fairy tales.

He missed her. God, did he miss her. She was his life, his world, his beloved, his goddess. If he closed his eyes, Angel could picture her perfectly. The golden tresses that fell past her shoulders and came to rest just below her prominent collar bone, the way her body seemed to float when she walked, and the way she had projected a glorious light into his soul.

He wanted to speak to her so badly, to listen to her beautiful voice and know that she was still alive, and hopefully happy.

He wanted everything for her. The sunlight, making love, children, and most of all, complete and utter happiness and contentment. And those were things that he could never give her, not unless his curse magically drifted away into nothingness.

He thought that leaving her and vanquishing all contact with her would help them, perhaps even lessen the hurt they felt whenever they were around eachother, knowing that they could never be together, not really.

But the only purpose it now served was to help him seek redemption for the many things he did as his other half, Angelus. Leaving her didn't lessen any of the pain he felt, all it did was build it.

She was his light in the dark world that he would always live, the one being on earth that gave him a purpose in his seemingly meaningless existance. He had thought he was nothing but a bum-vampire living on the streets and was ultimately just a waste of space. But then he met her. Buffy. She had helped to squelch that belief, and he only hoped that the words she had spoken to him, all about the love they held for eachother and because he was with her was the reason that she was alive, were true.

If they weren't, he didn't know what he was going to do with himself.

He wondered what she was doing right now, if she ever thought about him, if she was thinking about him right now, perhaps in her dreams.

He wondered if she had forgotten about him yet, as they had both promised they would back around the time of Thanksgiving.

He hoped not.

Just then, the phone that sat atop of his desk shrilled loudly, indicating either someone in need of his help or another person wanting him to change his long-distance service.

He leaned over the desk and reached to the far end of it, picking up the receiver and bringing it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Angel? It's Giles. Buffy's.."

"Giles? What's wrong? Is Buffy okay?" He apprehensively questioned.

"Well, she's in trouble." The watcher replied.

"In trouble." Angel echoed. "What's wrong? Is it a demon?"

"No, not as far as we know, but of course we don't know much as of right now, so.. we're not sure."

"Well, be sure!" Angel fervently said.

"I'm sorry Angel, but we don't know anything yet. We've just begun research, and Buffy's ran away, and-"

"Ran away?" Angel interrupted. "As in 'left town' or 'went home'?"

"Again, we are not sure. We trust that she went home, but..." He trailed off and heaved a sigh.

"Do you need me?"

He hesitated, but upon the looks of encouragement that he was getting from Willow, nodded his head. "Yes, we need you."

"I'll be there in an hour." Angel hung up the phone, then picked it up again and hit number four on the speed dial.

"Hello?" Someone grumpily answered. "Whoever the hell this is better have a damn good reason for waking me up this late!"

"Cordelia? It's Angel. Get your ass over here. We're going to Sunnydale."

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