Disclaimer: Joss owns B/A and damn, after what he said about no more cross-overs.do I ever wish I owned them!
Rating: PG 13
Author's Notes: This is yet another POV. I must be going nuts. Well, Buffy is, that's for sure. My view into her brain is twisted!! He he. This is based on a scene that happens to be one that bugs me. Give me a break, Joss! Buffy just killed Angel a couple months ago. I doubt she'd be moving on! Grrrrr!
Cate: POV, B/A
Timeline: "Faith, Hope and Trick" (in the third season)

The ring is cold against my fingers. I squeeze it as I walk through the doors to the mansion, my heeled shoes making tapping noises on the stone. It's freezing in here, and my thin sundress is scant protection.

There. That's where I killed him.

There's no blood on the floor, no police outline.chalk drawings that might have signified he meant something. That someone besides me knew that he died. I want to throw something at the wall. I want to smash and break things.

I want to sink down and die.

I can't believe I came here. Do I actually think this will help? If I'm going to date Scott Hope, should I really be here? Already I feel the ghosts of this mansion closing in on me. They're whispering, they're screaming.

TRAITOR

BITCH

I am those things. I know it, he knows it. I can feel his breath on my neck as I lean over and place the ring on the floor, exactly in the place where I rammed the sword into his innocent chest.

What am I thinking. He has no breath. He has no flesh. No form. No blood. No face. No arms, or legs or heart.

Because of me he doesn't exist.

At least in LA I could almost forget. The endless sea and sky and coffee mugs and gingham aprons dulled my brain and sent me off to a dreamland. I wasn't Buffy anymore. Therefore I hadn't done what she did. I was Anne. A nice, nondescript name that I enjoyed having. I wish I had stayed.

Sometimes I would dream while I was out there. The gulls would be keening, and my senses alive. I can almost feel the sand beneath my toes. As the waves crashed, the creamy surf would touch my feet and I would feel his arms. So hot. He was always so warm in the nights. I could feel the tendons in his arms flexing as he gripped my little body. Reaching up, I would press my hand to his face, feel the skin pulsing with life and heat and his mouth would kiss my neck. He said things but I barely heard. How could I, when the roaring in my ears never ceased?

"Goodbye."

Did I just say that?

Hello, goodbye, nice to have met you, Angel. But I have to go out with someone else now. Hope you understand. Oh, how's Hell? Nice? Great.

The ring glints. I want to pick it up so badly my fingers ache. But this is supposed to be a goodbye. A proper one. So I leave it, and walk away.

My face hurts. I relax it, and feel the tears fall. They are scalding, and burn my cheeks. That's good. I need some other pain to drown out this one. Pressing a hand to my stomach, I feel it heave. It's as if I swallowed glass. Or poison.

It's as if someone stabbed me in the belly and watched the blood gush. I wonder, if Angel could be alone with me right now, what would be do? Hold me? Kiss me?

Kill me?

I think he might. Maybe he sends me these dreams from Hell. Maybe he wants me to know that he hates me.

He should hate me.

I hate myself. God.I feel empty and sick. My bones hurt. My eyes hurt. Every part of me is raw and exposed. If I could just sleep. If I could just escape.

If I could just say Goodbye and mean it.

Life would be good.

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