A few days went by, and Buffy hadn't heard anything from Angel. Needless to say, she was beginning to get a little worried. When she said she wanted them to be friends, she meant it. She knew she could talk to him about anything, and she hoped he felt the same way.

But he had been busy. Wracked with guilt over his 'trip into a past life,' he kept himself hidden in his apartment with his memories and his conscience. It told him the things he should be doing to try to make up for the crimes he committed, and he obeyed. He had taken so many people's lives in those few months, but he went and visited the graves of the ones he could remember: the woman with the cigarette in the alley, Theresa, and Ms. Calendar.

Hers was the one he felt the worst about. She was his friend and Buffy's, too. No matter what pretense she had come under, she had proved a faithful ally to them and earned his respect.

What happened shouldn't have, and it was his fault. She was trying to help him and what did he do? Snapped her neck like a twig and left her as a gag gift in Giles' bed. It was not a joke. If her plan had gone through earlier, it would have saved everyone a lot of torment and her life, as well as many others'.

Angel went to her grave only once, to ask her forgiveness even though he knew she couldn't answer him. He felt it was the honorable thing to do. To show your respect for the dead and pray for God to have mercy on your soul. Even if you are a demon.

One of these nights, things were different. Buffy, Giles, Willow, and Xander gathered around Ms. Calendar's grave and stood there, talking quietly amongst themselves about the times they best remembered her by. It was the one-month anniversary of her passing and they wanted to bring as much good to it as possible.

Angel watched carefully from the bushes as Giles reminisced about how she was always trying to get him to "move into the twentieth century, Rupert." Willow remarked that she was her favorite teacher and a good mentor for her students, and Xander muttered something about how she made him come to school on a Saturday and work on computers when he should have been sleeping in. Buffy was the only one silent.

"I just wish I could have gotten to know her better," she told them, shrugging her shoulders. The last few weeks she shared with the teacher were strained, to say the least, and it made her sorry to think she had been so hard on the woman when all she wanted was to help her. "She found Angel's cure, but it cost her her life."

All were silent as they looked at her sympathetically. Giles was the first to speak.

"Buffy, it wasn't-"

"I know. It wasn't my fault. I still feel guilty, though. It was my fault he changed in the first place, though."

From his carefully hidden spot behind the bushes, Angel listened intently. 'Buffy, it wasn't your fault,' he thought to himself. 'I should have known better.' But he couldn't say anything to her. Not here.

"It's getting late. We should go," Giles told the teens, but Buffy wanted to stay.

"Don't worry! I'll be fine," she assured them, waving her hands in dismissal. "Go. I'll see you later."

"Be careful, Buff," Xander cautioned her as they walked by.

"I will," she said, nodding her head as she watched them leave. Waiting a moment to make sure they were gone, she called out, "Okay. I know you're out there. Come on."

"Come out, come out wherever you are," she called softly, glancing around the dark yard. Bushes grew everyone, making for many good hiding spots, and she was pretty sure this was just one. If there were more, she would have sensed it.

She heard a sudden rustling behind her and turned around to check on it. A tall, dark figure appeared from behind the hedges and ran off into the darkness.

"Angel."