RATING: PG -character death and angst
SUMMARY: You just have to read it. I can tell you it's all Buffy...and Angel's answering machine, but only briefly.
FEEDBACK: Please. This just popped into my head and I'm not sure about it at all.
DISTRIBUTION: Ask me first and we'll see.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: AOL is a cold hearted bitch and I hate it with a bloody passion. And I know it's not fluffy, but how do you curb the urge to angst?

Buffy held the card in her hand, staring mesmerized by the ten digits written there. She'd memorized the number years ago, the very day it arrived in the mail with a note that simply said "Anytime." She'd never used them, had refused to dial them, convinced that she didn't need him. She'd tossed the note in the trash, but she'd been unable to get rid of that one last connection to Angel, to sever all ties completely. So she'd placed the number in the bottom of her jewlery box and she never looked at it again, determined to forget him, to build a life without him. And for a while, it had worked.

She'd graduated from college with a degree in Psychology, she'd gotten a wonderful job as a counselor at Sunnydale High, which they'd managed to rebuild just before she finished school. With the help of Giles, Willow, and Xander, she helped train Catrina, the new Slayer, who'd been activated after Faith's death. Life was going well, and she was content. And then Tristan had walked into her life and things just got better.

Tristan Westfall had come to Sunnydale to start his duties as Catrina's Watcher. Young, handsome, and unlike any other Watcher she'd ever met, he swept her off her feet. Not that their romance had ever been easy. After Angel, and her short but troubled relationship with Riley, her college boyfriend, she was very reluctant to give her heart to another man. Part of that was because, as much as she tried to deny it, when Angel left, he took a major part of her heart with him. But Tristan was determined and he showed it in an unusual way. The more she resisted the relationship, the less Tristan pressured her. And one day he stopped altogether, and his sudden indifference to her prompted Buffy to realize just how much she needed him, how much she loved him.

Two years after her graduation, they got engaged; they were married six months later and Buffy was happier than she'd been in a very long time. She thought life couldn't get any better than that. She hadn't counted on it getting worse.

Xander was the first one to go, nine months after her wedding. After years of fighting some of the scariest things alive, Xander was killed by a random gunshot because he just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Buffy had been devastated, but no one took Xander's death as hard as Willow. She was the next one to go, leaving Sunnydale three months after Xander's death. While they still kept in touch, things were never the same between them.

Giles and her mother were next, run down by a drunk driver, and Catrina's death was soon after theirs. Buffy found her broken and bruised body in the cemetery, killed by a vampire who was just a bit stronger, just a step faster.

Tristan had taken her death rather hard and had returned to England, thus putting an official end to their marriage. But it had died long before then, the tradegies that happened becoming too big a strain on their lives.

Pushing thoughts of her failed marraige away, she looked once again at the number in her hand. Seven years had past since the last time she'd spoken to Angel. Her life had changed so much since then, and it would be silly of her to think that his hadn't changed as well. She wasn't such a fool that she thought that Angel's life still revolved around her, but part of her hoped that maybe, just maybe, she was still foremost in his thoughts. Especially now, now when she needed him so much. Angel had always had an uncanny ability to know when something was wrong with her. She hoped that was still the case, hoped that he still cared enough to grant her some of his time.

Before she let cowardice get the best of her, Buffy picked up the phone and dialed Angel's number. As it rang she tried not to get her hopes to high, but it was impossible. For so long Angel had been a major part of her life, and even when things were going well for her, he would still make his way into her thoughts, making her wish that things had turned out better for them.

The sound of Angel's voice brought her out of her thoughts.

"Sorry we can't come to the phone right now," said the machine, and Angel's voice held sincere apology. "But, if you're calling this number, you're probably family, so maybe we're not so sorry after all."

Hearing the amusement and laughter in his voice, Buffy couldn't help but smile. He seemed happy, content, and she was glad for him. But she frowned, puzzled, when she heard a feminine giggle in the background.

"Anyway," the woman said. "Leave a message and when Angel and I are a little less busy-"

"She means when she unties me," Angel added in the background, causing the woman to laugh.

"Well, when I untie Angel," she contiued undaunted. "We'll make sure to call you back."

Buffy laid the receiver down, choosing not to leave a message. Angel sounded happy, happier than she'd ever heard him. And he'd moved on, just as she had, just as he should. He deserved every bit of that happiness and she refused to ruin it for him, refused to hurt him by reminding him of a past he'd be better off not dwelling on. But there was a part of her, a part deep inside her that had never given up hope that one day she and Angel would one day be together, was devastated. It was just one more hurt to add to all the pain she'd had to endure the last year. But she had lost Angel before, and she'd cried her tears for it long ago. She had no more to shed.

With a deep sigh, she got up off the couch and grabbed her bag, heading for the door. Opening it, she took one last look at the house she'd shared first with her mother and then with Tristan and Catrina. All the boxes had been taken away, some deposited in her new apartment in New York, some in storage in LA with her father. The couch in the middle of the room would go on to New York, as well as a few of the paintings on the wall and the oriental rug on the floor. Everything else she needed was in the black leather duffel she now held.

Choosing to leave Sunnydale had not been easy, and she'd agonized over the decision for weeks. She'd spent eleven years of her life in the town, a town she'd both loved and hated with equal passion many times during those years. She'd made many a memory there, good and bad, and met people she loved more than life there, people who'd given up so much for her, people she'd risked life and limb for everyday. She'd fought for Sunnydale and the people who lived here, and protecting it had been her life. But there was nothing for her there anymore, the people she loved gone, and she knew that spending one more night there would be the end of her. And as cruel as life had been to her, she wasn't ready to give up on it just yet.

With one last smile, she left the house, closing the door firmly behind her. Another Slayer would come to Sunnydale, to protect its citizens, another Scooby Gang would be formed to help the Slayer and her Watcher, to help make things easier for her. And maybe she'd have her very own Angel, watching her back, keeping her safe, understanding her like no other person could, loving her more than life. Hopefully, life would be much kinder to them and they would get to have everything that Buffy herself did not.

If there was one thing Buffy knew, it was that life moved on. And now, finally, it was Buffy's turn to do the same.

Go to sequel, No Going Back

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