Melted Dreams

By: Ally-Kamiya

Author's Notes: Well, I've been plotting this for just about forever…OK, maybe since I've heard about IWRY. (still haven't seen it..grr..) I know this is a bit short, but it's the point of the thing.

Dedication: To Teeny, who listens to me ranting about Buffy/Angel all the time, and doesn't even watch the show except for when I order her to! Love you, girl!

Rating: Pretty safe, around a PG, just for some of the thoughts.

Summary: Buffy gets another one of Angel's no-speaking phone calls when she returns home after the Forgotten Day…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Buffy Summers walked silently into her house, bag in hand. It was after Thanksgiving, she was back from Los Angeles. From her father, from false smiles..From Angel. But that was a different story. At the moment, what she needed was to sit, to think, and maybe a bit of ice cream could be mixed in with all of that.

Dropping the bag, she walked into the kitchen, and opened the freezer. 'Mint Chocolate Chip' stared back at her. Biting down on her lower lip, the blonde Slayer pulled out the tub, and grabbed a large spoon. Opening it, she sat on a stool.

She sat there for several hours. The ice cream had long begun to melt. Buffy's hazel eyes simply watched it do so, spooning the now liquid up, and watching it drop back into the tub. It was obvious to all that she was lost in thought, lost in time, even.

The shrill ringing of the telephone broke her concentration. For a moment, she considers letting it ring, before the need to answer drew upon her, and she stood stiffly.

"Hello?" There was silence on the other line. But no dial tone.

Buffy didn't need words to let her know who was on the other line. The familiar feeling, the soft, un-needed breathing which he tried to hide was enough for her. Enough to break her heart into more pieces than it already was in. She'd vowed to not tell him, but the words came out, unbidden, yet needing to be spoken.

"I'll never forget." There was shocked silence, and that was all she needed. No words could be spoken, as the silence spoke more than all the words could between the two.

Replacing the phone into its cradle, she walked back over to her stool, to the counter, and resumed staring at the melted ice cream. While staring at it, she allowed herself to break down, sobbing over a carton of melted ice cream.

Sobbing over melted dreams.