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"Dear Angel, I know no words can describe how sorry I am for what you saw. I know it was wrong, I’ve always known it was wrong. He was my escape from the world, the one place where I could forget all the troubles in my life. My mom dying, Dawn drifting further and further away from me, skipping school and sneaking out at night, my friends dying. It was all too much at once and when I was with him, all I had to do was concentrate on one thing and it was simple, easy. I was lonely and he offered. How could I have denied him when, while I was with him, he felt so much like you. I have no feelings for him. What was once hatred and anger, turned into friendship and misplaced need. I could never love him, or even like him, for that matter. I’ve ended it, after seeing you, standing there, looking so shocked and hurt. I thought I saw hate? I want to think that my eyes betray me and are lying. But, I know they’re not. My soul can’t lie. Nor can my heart. And now they both lay in tatters on the floor inside me, after being stepped on with death, pain and endless heartache. There is no way that it could be possibly mended now. I feel that it is black and lifeless. Especially without you. After you left. I know I have no right to say that. And I’m sorry. About everything. I am an empty shell forever, especially since Willow and Xander, Anya and Faith have all gone. They were what kept me from falling into the endless darkness where I so wanted to be. Now, I hang only be a few threads, Giles and Dawn. They are my only family, the only shred of happiness in my life. But they can never truly fill the empty void which has grown inside me. I’m sorry, I have no right to burden you with these things. Actually, it probably isn’t even a burden to you, right? I’m sorry. I don’t even know whether or not I am going to send this letter. I’ve written so many to you, always saying the same things and same apologies over and over. I know that the sight that you saw is something that can’t be easily forgotten, or perhaps, already forgotten. And by sending this, I will only make you more mad. I don’t know what to do or how to do anything. Only two words have left my mouth since that horrible night and that is that I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I can never send this, begging for your forgiveness, which I know I can never get. The only way this letter will be sent is right before my throat has been slit and then I won’t have to look into your angry eyes. Because that would hurt more than any wound I’ve ever had. I’m sorry. I know what I have done can never be forgotten. I hate myself for it. I hate myself for the mere fact that I am alive. That my already dead heart beats still, that blood still flows through my veins. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I’m alive. I only wish that this would convey my feelings and actually mean something. But, I can’t. I never will. I just need you to know that I love you. And that I am sorry. I really am. Sincerely, Buffy."
"...How’s life in LA where you’re human? Peachy keen, I hope. Oh, wait, I’m sorry. I LIED! I am so sick of being sorry for something that I really am not sorry for. Everything I’ve done...I couldn’t help it. Did you honestly think that I would wait forever for you? Did you think that I would wait until you were human and we would live happily ever after with a litter of kids, the white picket fence and a golden retriever? NO! I can’t do this anymore, Angel. I can’t say that I’m sorry when I’m not. I was lonely and weak and Spike was there when I needed someone to understand me. He made me feel good and beautiful when others wouldn’t. And for that, I loved him. For that, I will always love him because he was there. When you weren’t. I can’t live like this anymore. I refuse to be sorry. I’m not sorry that I lost my closest friends, I’m not sorry that I lost Spike, I’m not sorry that I lost my mother and I’m most certainly am not sorry that I lost you! I’m not sorry that I love you. I can’t be. If I was, then I would be dead. And nobody wants their little Buffy to be dead. Honestly, I’m happy that you saw what you did. I couldn’t have helped it. If I could change back time, would I change what I did? I don’t know and I don’t think I want to know. I love you and I hate it! I hate you and everything you did to me. You bring me nothing but pain! How could I have ever loved such a horrible person? I’m sick of being sorry..."
"Angel, I needed something that Spike could give me. I needed you and since you weren’t there, I ran to the closest thing to you...someone that could make my feel like I was wanted. You weren’t there. I didn’t know where else to go. I love you so much, Angel and I am so sorry that I lost you but I’m not sorry... It’s stopping now. I can’t go on. I doubt that I’ll ever send any of these letters that I’ve written. There are so many of them that I’ve almost sent and so many that I’ve buried in places never to be seen again. I’ve burned some. I can’t go on thinking what could have been and I’m sorry that you saw what you saw but I can’t change that and I’m sorry that I can’t. I love you and I hope you understand..."
At the time all these letters had been sent, found in the mailbox, then read, Angel could have burnt the pieces of paper and laughed while doing it. But now, thirteen years later, he knew he would have regretted it. They all came in the mail in one big envelope. They dated back to sixteen years ago and all through out the three she wrote them. Some were angry, some were sad, some were apologizing, some were begging him to come back. As he read the words on the papers he found, he noticed the small tear stains shed by the writer as she wrote them, the scribbles and word crossed out many times over and over. Some of the letters were completely crossed out in anger and could be hardly read. He noticed how many times the writer had actually said sorry. Many memories arose in his head from the simple words, memories filled with love and others hate and pain. Closing his eyes, he fought the memories of the one night that had destroyed his life. His new life. The life where he was human. He remembered seeing Spike and Buffy on her bed, Spike thrusting into Buffy wildly and Buffy mewling underneath him, meeting him. At that sight, Angel remembered feeling such a hatred fill him for Spike and a pain that never left him when he saw Buffy so happy beneath him. Her excuses had meant nothing to him at the time, but now, having found these letters, Angel found himself wanting to find Buffy and tell her that he forgave her of everything and that he had at the time, but didn’t want to admit it. Grabbing his jacket from off the hook near the door, he headed out the door and into the sunlight, walking towards his car. His clothes had changed dramatically over the years. He was wearing baggy blue jeans and a white t-shirt. He threw his leather jacket into the back and put the key in the ignition, pumping the gas pedal until the car roared to life around him. Shifting gears, Angel drove away towards the highway, towards Sunnydale. In the last thirteen years, his friends had slowly drifted from him, leaving him to run the Angel Investigations LA branch by himself for lack of something better to do. Cordelia had been married to some millionaire, only to divorce him after eight years of unhappiness and cheating on both sides. But Cordelia came out with a lot of money and one child, her teenage daughter, Faith. Before the rogue Slayer had died so long ago, along with Willow, Xander and Anya, Cordelia had become close to her and felt the need to honor her. She was currently residing in New York, having found herself a nice, young man. Wesley and Fred married and had three kids. Gunn went to Vegas with Lorne and is still now his high-paid bodyguard. Giles was currently residing in London with the Watcher’s Council. After the original members died mysteriously, they had asked Giles to become the head of the Council. He knew that Spike had moved to Florida and then to Prague, opening his own detective agency based around the business of Angel Investigations. Dawn was still in college, working towards becoming a doctor of some kind. She had skipped on college for a few years, wanting to make it on her own with some low-paying jobs and skeezy boyfriends. She soon realized what she had done with her life when she had a miscarriage when she was twenty and went back home to work on college. Angel smiled slightly as he remembered a very angry, yet loving, letter he had received from the youngest Summers’ girl. She had demanded that he see Buffy immediately, claiming to know that the love they shared was something that shouldn’t be ignored forever, saying she spoke from experience. That was what had caused him to go looking for the letters. That was why he knew where her older sister lived. Closing his eyes and sighing deeply, Angel opened them again only to see the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign. That didn’t take very long. Not very long at all. Turning off at the exit towards the small town, Angel mentally prepared himself for when he would see Buffy again. If not to be with her, then to at least apologize.
Buffy Summers looked up when she heard the light knocking on her door. Looking at the clock on the wall above her fireplace, Buffy furrowed her brow. Who could it be? Nobody was coming over. Maybe it was Dawn. But she had her own dorm and she was supposed to have classes right now. As she stood up, Buffy dropped the book she had been reading on the sofa in her airy apartment. She had long ago sold her mother’s old house to a nice family she had met when she had been working. She knew that they would surely fill the house, especially after sorting out the problems they had obviously been having. She was a family counselor and worked in a small branch in Sunnydale. Eleven years ago, she had moved to Seattle to work in the main branch, but found out that they were opening a branch in her home town and volunteered to head it up. After all, she had been gone for about nine years and was well respected throughout the country in her business. She also missed her friends and family. Right now though, she was on a well-deserved vacation. For about two and a half weeks. She had recently spent the time remodeling her home. The apartment had three bedrooms, a large kitchen and an open living room that led to a balcony hovering high above the town. It cost a pretty penny - which she could happily afford - and was definitely worth it. One of the rooms was her office, one a guest room and the other her bedroom. Passing the kitchen, Buffy moved to open the door, gripping the doorknob. Unlocking the three deadbolts and removing the chain, Buffy opened the door, knowing that nothing threatening would be on the other side for it was in the middle of the afternoon and she still had her Slayer strength in case she needed to defend herself. But nothing would prepare her for the sight of the person on the other side. Buffy could swear that her heart stopped and she didn’t breath for what seemed like forever. She felt tears rise in the back of her throat and blinked her eyes, fighting the urge to run forward towards him. Part of her wanted to hold him and kiss him and make love to him, but the other part of her wanted to beat him up and throw him out of her life again. But she froze, unable to decide what to do with her heart’s torn desires, feeling the loving part winning out at the sight of him standing in the hallway, his skin darkly tanned and his eyes sad. Breathing in unsteadily, she gripped the side of the door, her knuckles turning white as she fought to control the onslaught of emotions inside her. What was he doing here? Why was he here? Had something happened? So many questions, yet her voice wouldn’t work. "Buffy..." Closing her eyes, Buffy allowed herself to remember his deep voice and happier times for them. All of it, so long ago... "Angel," she croaked. Swallowing roughly, Buffy forced her tears back down, but her voice remained full of emotion. "What...what are you doing here?" "I needed to talk to you...about something. All those letters that you sent me thirteen years ago...I found them and I’ve been thinking-" "Thinking what?" Buffy asked sharply, cutting him off, anger filling her at the thought of him coming here to apologize for how he had treated her. "That you wanted to apologize for being such an asshole to me? Well, guess what? I got over it. That was a long time ago and you have no right coming here and making me feel guilty for saying everything I did in those letters. You deserved it. Don’t you realize that you left me and all I had left was Spike? He was the only thing that could come close to making me feel the way I did with you...that night..." "Buffy-" "No, don’t. If you’re just going to say that you’re sorry, then I don’t want to hear it. I’m sick of hearing it. You acted childish when you left me and then you come roaring into town, expecting to see me waiting for you. Well, you were wrong and you acted stupid. I don’t know what you expected..." Buffy closed her eyes slightly before opening them, feeling her resolve. She would not be weak. He had left her and she wouldn’t listen to her weak half anymore. All she had ever wanted was to feel his hands on her and his voice whispering, ‘I love you’. "I’m sorry, Angel. But...I have to go now. I don’t want to hear what you have to say." Buffy moved back and went to slam her door. She turned around and moved quickly through her house, the tears starting to roll down her cheeks. She heard him block the door and make his way in. "Buffy, you need to listen to me. I was stupid and childish and everything else that you want to call me. And I won’t say I’m sorry because I was hurting that you would turn to Spike, of all people, to help you through it. But..." Angel had reached her then and gripped her left elbow, turning her around quickly, making her face him. Her eyes were red and wet and she had started crying. Looking her in the eye, he made sure she could see all his love shining through. "I do know that I still love you and I haven’t stopped. Not even after all these god damned years." Buffy stared back at him. He still loved her? Breathing heavily, Buffy felt hope blossom at the bottom of her heart. "What?" "I love you, Buffy. I love you so much that it still hurts when I think about you and what we had and what we lost. I would do anything to be with you again and I hate the fact that we lost all these years because of what happened so long ago. If I could erase it, I would. But, I can’t and I have to live with that fact." His voice softened considerably. "I love you, Buffy. I love you and I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I don’t think I ever did." Buffy swallowed and blinked, clearly surprised that he had come clean with all of this stuff after so long. What had he been waiting for? Looking up into his eyes, Buffy didn’t reply. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his head down to kiss her. Their lips met softly but quickly turned to fire and want. Buffy moaned into his mouth, clearly inviting him to reclaim what was his. Angel accepted and gripped the round globes of her bottom, picking her up and feeling her wrap her legs around his waist, her light blue dress bunching at her hips. Angel broke the kiss and panted against her lips as he lowered them to the floor, his hands already reaching down to remove her panties. Once Buffy’s back was flat on the floor, her hands had already unbuttoned his jeans and were unzipping them, pushing them down as Angel lifted her legs up to remove her panties. Not bothering to remove them, they puddled at her interlocked ankles as Angel moved in between her legs and draped himself over her body once more. Gripping her hips, Angel thrust into her quickly, the couple crying out in ecstasy. Thrusting in a passionate frenzy, Angel quickly brought them to their release, both crying out. Together, they reached paradise with each other.
"We have a lot to talk about," Buffy said softly against Angel’s neck. Angel shifted slightly on the floor where Buffy laid on top of him, their bodies still intimately intertwined. He nodded, knowing that so much still needed to be said. They had made love two more times on the floor before falling into an exhausted heap on her floor. Both felt a joy they hadn’t felt in too many years and knew that nothing could get in their way anymore. "I know. But, I’m willing to do anything to make this relationship work." Buffy smiled against his skin. "Me, too. I love you." "I love you, too." Angel sighed and wrapped his arms around Buffy’s form, her hips already starting to move once again. "You know, I wanted to do this the right way. Maybe a few dates, some dinner, then sex..." Buffy laughed. "I’m happy doing it backwards." Angel groaned, his eyes closing. "Mmm. Me, too." The End l be kind, rewind l back to top l
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