*****
~A letter to you on a cassette
'Cause we don't write anymore
Got to make it up quickly
There's people asleep on the second floor.~

"Buffy,"

I say into the small dictaphone in my hand as I sit in my darkened office.

"I don't know why I'm doing this...The words just won't seem to come on paper. I know I could have called you...But that just didn't seem the place for these types of thoughts..."

*And I wanted to get what I wanted to say out before you butted in...* I think grimly.

~There's no aphrodesiac like loneliness Truth beauty and a picture of you~

I look at the picture of my one time lover on the desk, all sun and smiles. For those few, precious years in Sunnydale she was the only light necessary. She was my sun. Her smile would light up my life. She was all I needed.

I sigh and continue my 'letter'.

"It's not to say that I don't miss you...I do...But we've both grown as people....we've moved on with our lives..."

I click the machine off.

What the hell am I trying to say?

I don't really know any more.

Someone once said, friendship, like love, is destroyed by long absence, though it may be increased by short intermissions. And never a truer word was spoken. Each time I see Buffy my love for her grows. I still love her, even now.

I just don't think I like her.

Over the two hundred and forty odd years I've been here, on this earth, it's become more and more apparent that liking a person and loving a person are two completely different things. You can like a person without loving them, and vice versa. I know now that this is true of Buffy.

But Spike....He's another story all together.

"I heard about Spike's 'predicament' a week ago from Giles. I'm not sure what took me so long to react...Shock, I guess...I know you're looking after him....Or say you are.

"I'm not accusing you....I just know what he's like...I guess what I'm trying to say is, look out for him. Don't let him know you're doing it....Just don't let him get hurt too badly.

"He's helpless."

~You'll be walking your dog in a few hours
I'll be asleep in my brothers house
You're a thousand miles away
With food between your teeth.~

I sit in the dark and think about what I've asked Buffy to do.

'Take care of him."

I feel like I'm talking about an animal. He's my boy. My Will. My childe.

I can't deny that. I made Spike.

I ripped him from his life and brought him over to the dark side. It doesn't matter how much it may have been by Angelus' hand, or by his will. It was me that turned him.. I have his memories, I can't forget that. I made Spike. I am responsible for him. I own him.

All the weapons scattered around the room remind me of that. Of Angelus. My evil twin brother. The man I was before I was...whatever I am now. This is his body. I'm just residing here.

I'm just a squatter. All these cells, these dead cells, are his. I own nothing. Nothing but my pitiful existence and my soul.

I feel so distant from everything. But most of all from Spike. I know what he's going through, yet I can't help him. There's no way he'll let me in. He beat that into me last time Angelus re-surged, literally. And that was his Sire. What makes me think he'll let me in through the big, thick walls he's built around himself for protection? What gives me the right to even attempt to 'reacquaint' myself with him? What makes me think he doesn't want to be left alone?

He didn't accept Angelus when he came back. He won't accept me, the demon's loathsome doppelganger. He looks down his nose at me in every incarnation. He never used to hate me....him.....whatever. I saw it in his eyes way back when. It may not have been love, but it was certainly close to it.

Now? Now he looks down on me. As if he's better than me. Which he is in a way. He's so full of energy....vitality...something so unique it can only be described as him. He's not at all like myself. He's so much more. He's so much.

But he's so far away. She's so far away. Everything's a long way off. I am alone.

And so is my boy.

~Come up for summer
I've got a place near the beach
There's room for your dog~

I sigh again and hit rewind, listening to the high pitched chatter come from the little black box until it reaches the start of the tape.

I hear again my first tentative words to the tape, and almost flinch at the sound of my own voice, sounding so foreign. I reach the part where the click signifies the place I had first stopped and press record.

"What I-uh...wanted to ask you was....if you could come to visit...maybe for a weekend...and bring Spike....To..uh...get him out from under your feet. Maybe you could just send him up here. I don't know..."

I sigh and stare at the desk. I know what I want to say, I just can't form the words. I set my jaw and look resolutely at the inanimate object taking Buffy's place.

"Buffy...I've been where he is. He's all alone. I know he's a demon, but nobody should have to suffer like that."

~There's no aphrodisiac like loneliness
Truth beauty and a picture of you~

I stare in shock at the table. There. I've said it.

I'm lonely. He's lonely. We'll all be lonely together.

What in hell possessed me to say that? Was there any special reason? Have I suddenly turned into 'Angel; Mr. Touchy-feely, let-me-tell-you-my-problems-in-great-detail'? Can I just use my timecard to punch-out of this situation? No?

Her picture sits on the table and taunts me.

~There's no aphrodisiac like loneliness
You shouldn't leave me alone~

"I can't bear to think what he must be going through. When I do it brings up memories of my time alone. I was crazed, Buffy. I didn't know who I was, where I was, what I was, What my purpose was. I had a soul, but I didn't have a reason.

Despite all he's done. To you. To me. To us. I can't watch him go through it."

Once the honesty started I couldn't seem to stop it. I had something to say, and I needed to get it out.

"I've spent time in hell, but it in no way compares to being alone in the world."

I lean back in my chair and think. Maybe I won't send this tape, but it had still felt good to get it out. I've had it bottled up inside of me for so long, it's been festering down in the pit of my undead stomach slowly eating me away from the inside. I know now for a fact that catharsis doesn't work, god knows I've been beating the living crap out of things for a while now and I'm still referred to as the 'big billowy coat, king of pain'. Who would have thought that closure could come from a little black box?

I look back down at the recorder. There's no point in leaving this unfinished.

"I'm always here if you need me, Buffy. I love you."

The recorder clicks off.

~Fin~