CHAPTER 1

The school bus wound its way down two-lane roads badly in need of a paving, dodging potholes and crater-like cracks, until they hit highway 101, at which point the roads smoothed out and contributed to Buffy's creepy feeling that it had all been a dream. Perhaps their memories had been corrupted... maybe this had all been a dream. The destruction of Sunnydale, the death of... Can't say it, too soon. But no, once the roads that had led to Sunnydale ran out, they started to see other cars on the road and signs that life had continued outside of Sunnydale's apocalypse. Once the traffic picked up and it became obvious that the Slayers had successfully neutralized the apocalypse and escaped the crater of Sunnydale, the girls started exchanging stories, first in low voices, increasing in volume the more they realized and reveled in their triumph.

Buffy, Dawn, Xander, Willow and Giles sat in the rows near the back of the bus, separate from the celebrations among the younger Slayers, all silently contemplating the events of the day. For them, the victory was tainted by memories of people who didn't make it out of Sunnydale with them. The sense of loss was heaviest for Xander and Buffy, both of whom had been on the verge of breakthroughs with their old lovers and ready to try their relationships again. But Spike and Anya had both lost their lives in the battle, making their victory over the First bittersweet. Buffy began to weep silently. Xander came over to sit by her and put an arm around her shoulders, tears sliding down his cheeks as well. Dawn, in the row in front of them, knelt and leaned over the back of the seat to hold their hands in a silent show of support. Giles and Willow were a steady presence in the seat next to Buffy and Xander, their eyes telling them both what they felt uncomfortable saying in front of the other Slayers, that they mourned their losses, too.

The remainder of the trip felt smooth and safe, albeit surreal; it was a drastic change from the threat they had felt only the day before. Now they needed to find a safe harbor for a few weeks to sort out the shreds of their lives, and Giles and Buffy had decided on traveling to L.A. to take advantage of Angel's offer of hospitality. Buffy knew logically that the idea made sense, but was still worried about their choice of Angel. To her, it felt like a betrayal of Spike to go dashing into Angel's arms the moment Spike was gone. She told herself over and over that she was not chasing after Angel, was not even interested in any sort of relationship with him at this point; she simply needed a good place to rest her troops, and Angel's offer of private hotel rooms was just what they needed. Logically, she agreed that it was the best idea they had. Emotionally, she didn't think she would be able to bear even talking to Angel at this point because he would inevitably remind her of Spike, burned up in a crater at the bottom of the world.

Night was drawing on when they finally made it to the outskirts of L.A. The bus navigated the freeways and local streets until finally Buffy found herself staring up at the Hyperion Hotel, which was to be their base of operations for the immediate future. The building looked pleasant enough from outside in the early evening, with welcoming lights on in the lower levels. Hardly any of the girls had any bags to speak of, so the grand hall of the hotel was soon filled with dirty, exhausted Slayers and the even more weary veteran Scoobies. Fred, who had been waiting at the desk, let out an excited shout and yelled, "They're here!" to the second floor. She shyly approached Buffy where she stood with Xander, Giles and Willow while the other Slayers milled about, talking loudly about the decor. "Hi! Uh... I'm Fred, I don't know if anyone ever mentioned me. I was a physics PhD student who got sucked into a demon world and existed there for 5 years. Hi! Hi," she said as she shook their hands. Buffy smiled, taking an instant liking to the girl. "You must be Buffy," Fred continued. "I've heard so many stories about you, the blond Slayer, the original. It's so exciting to get to meet you!"

Buffy laughed and shook her hand. "Well, I hope the stories were the good ones, not the ones where I got my butt handed to me by the resident Big Bad." Big Bad was one of his phrases, Buffy thought. Can't think of him yet.... Her face had fallen slightly. Fred noticed, and was about to ask if she was alright when she was interrupted by the arrival of Angel, Wesley and Gunn.

"Hey there, Buffy," Angel murmured, pulling her into his chest for a hug. She tensed up and debated pushing him away, but reminded herself that he was their gracious host and that a simple hug wasn't a betrayal of Spike. "Giles told me all about the situation a few nights ago, told us to possibly expect a herd of Slayers later this week. We've got rooms all set up for you." He looked around the room at the survivors, his smile falling. "I knew, sort of, about Spike, when he... went. Vampire families can kind of feel these things. Though I hoped that my feelings were wrong, or that my idiot childe would figure out some sort of way to cheat death like he always does." He paused, and saw Buffy's eyes were bright with tears. "He's not coming, is he?" Her face crumpled and her tears tumbled silently down as she whispered, "No. No, he's not coming." She leaned her face into her hands, trying not to draw the attention of the Newborn Slayers.

Angel nodded and whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Buffy," but she refused his move to hug her again. He turned back to the other Scoobies watching with frowns on their faces. "Uh, well, mi hotel, su hotel, for as long as you need it. Fred ordered some pizzas once she saw the school bus outside, so those should be arriving any minute. I'm sure everyone could use a little food and relaxation. Just tell the girls to let me or any of the others know when they would like to retire, and we'll provide them with a key." He nodded again, cast another look at Buffy, and walked with Gunn over to offer support to Fred, who was trying to carry on a conversation with 5 of the teenaged Slayers at once.

Buffy sniffled and sat down on a nearby bench, running her hands through her hair and willing herself to stop crying. She shook her hands and head, trying to get ahold of herself. "It's only the first day," a soft British voice murmured to her, causing her to stop her distractions and gaze up at the speaker. "It's okay to cry..." He paused, and looked away from her to the windows outside. "You don't always have to be strong."

Wesley had changed since she had seen him last. In fact, this Wesley was nearly unrecognizable from the, well, buffoon of a Watcher she had known before. All the airs and pretenses Buffy remembered from her senior year of high school were gone, along with his naivete. This Wesley seemed hard, determined, confident but not cocky. The tailored suits Buffy remembered had been replaced by well-cut dark denim jeans and a button-down green shirt left open at the neck. Despite his scruffy five o'clock shadow, the overall impression of neatness was still there; however, that was about all that Buffy could find in his appearance that she remembered. Even his eyes... this new Wesley's eyes were still ice-blue, but they had hardened over the years, the sadness etched in every striation of his irises, leaving none of the pretentious Watcher she had known behind. It gave him, she had to admit, an incredible amount of sex appeal, this mixture of competence, conflict and hurt. He crouched down before her and glanced up into her eyes for a few uncomfortable seconds before looking away again, and whispered, "The first day is always the hardest, don't be ashamed of it."

Buffy was shocked, the tears ceasing almost immediately as she stared at this alien Wesley in front of her. Wesley is being nice, she thought. Not just nice, but understanding. And he's completely serious. She sniffed distractedly, still staring at him. He finally looked back at her, and upon seeing her gobsmacked impression, allowed a small smile at the corner of his mouth. "Well, what, you expected me in my tweeds, lecturing you about your responsibilities as a guardian of the world?" he joked, smiling still further when it became obvious she was even more shocked than before. "I guess you did," he murmured, moving to stand back up.

"Wesley!" Buffy exclaimed softly, catching his hand before he could straighten up. She suddenly realized that she didn't know what she meant to say, and that this slight contact with Wesley's hand felt like far more of a betrayal of Spike than her hug with Angel had. "Thanks," she said softly under her breath. "That means a lot to me. I, uh... I guess I did expect the Watcher I knew. But this is good. Much better." She paused, feeling awkward. "Thank you," she muttered, as the tears came back and she found herself quietly sobbing again. Without letting go of her hand, he shifted up from his crouch and settled down next to her on the bench, content to simply sit near her and let her get out whatever she needed to get out. This time, she regained her composure within a few minutes. She uncomfortably wondered if it wasn't because of the soft, soothing strokes Wesley was using on the hand of hers that he still held in his. When she was finally sure that she wasn't going to lose her control and start sobbing again, (at least, not for a few hours, God willing,) she raised her eyes back to his, shocked to find he had been staring at her. He didn't break the eye contact out of embarrassment, simply looked into her reddened eyes with a look of empathy that stole Buffy's breath away. What has happened to this man since my Graduation Day, she wondered, staring back at him despite her awkwardness. She realized suddenly that they had been gazing at each other for well over 20 seconds and that she really was tired and in need of alone time. Without looking away, she asked softly, "Um, Wesley, could I get that room key now? I think I'll turn in."

He held her gaze for another few moments, then released her from his gaze, rising to move towards the front desk of the hotel. "Not a problem at all. Let's see, we've prepared about 40 rooms, just in case... why don't you take 319? It's a nice mini-suite, close to the lobby and the lifts, but not so close that you'll hear them running all night." He smiled and held the key up to her, which she took gratefully. As she went to climb the winding staircase to the second floor, he called out to her suddenly, as if he had been debating internally and come to a decision.

"Buffy?" His voice was like velvet, and she shuddered slightly at the rumbling it made in her stomach. She turned around in the middle of the staircase. "Yeah?"

He climbed a few stairs to be closer to her, and said in a low voice, "If you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm in 325 down the hall. I know, I know that I'm probably the last person you'd think of confiding in, but sometimes, those people are good listeners because they aren't as emotionally invested or biased as your best friends can be.... Not that I don't think highly of your friends, because I do, it's not at all like that, I just..." He paused, and Buffy smiled a little to see him a little discomfited, even as composed as he seemed to be nowadays. He nodded to himself and continued. "Well, if you need an open ear and very open mind, room 325." With that, he turned and walked back down to the hall, joining Gunn's conversation with Giles and Willow. Buffy stared after Wesley for a moment, incredulous to see how much Wesley had changed, and wondering not only what had happened to make him take himself less seriously, but also what was obviously burdening his conscience and soul. She also wondered what he meant when he stressed that he had a "very open mind" now. Was that a reference to her relationship with Spike? Did he know about that? And what could have happened to make the man who was always so obsessed with the rules so informal, so flexible? She wondered about that as she climbed the stairs to the elevator.

Room 319 was indeed a pleasant little suite just a short distance from the elevator. As Buffy showered and got ready to crawl into bed, she thought about the brief exchanges she had had with Wesley that evening. She couldn't deny that something in her felt that he might understand some of her more unusual problems, that he could be a good confidante. Something told her, too, that he would never betray her trust to anyone. There had been an air of tension between Wesley and Angel, and she secretly wondered if there was anyone left in Angel Investigations that he would even confide in himself, let alone reveal her secrets to. And when had his eyes become so intense? It was like he had looked straight through her, from her eyes to the back of her head.

She climbed into bed, falling asleep almost immediately, but dreaming of vampires with blonde hair and blue eyes lying dead in graves, even though she knew from thousands of experiences that a dead vamp dusted. There was a British man nearby in the shadows, who laid his hand upon her shoulder and told her in velvety tones that everything would be alright, and though she heard that from any number of her gang day in and day out, for the first time in a long time, she actually believed those words.