Title: The French Connection
Author: Lily
Rating: PG to PG-13
Spoilers: Bargaining, but really only part one
Disclaimer: pshaw. not mine.
Summary: Yes, the resurrection worked. But no, it didn't wake Buffy up where she last was (that part seems to have gotten messed up, no?)...
Author's Note: *la la la* denotes Buffy thoughts

"So, I promised you a toothbrush." Oz was putting the rinsed mugs back in a cupboard. Buffy looked at him blankly from the couch.

"Huh? I mean, sorry. I kind of zoned out."

"I promised you a toothbrush." Finished in the kitchen, he sat down in the chair opposite the sofa. He reached under the chair, pulling out a pair of Dr. Marten's, and began to put them on. "Want to come out with me or just hang here?"

"I think some fresh air might do me good," Buffy said resolutely, but frowned when she saw her shoes, "and I could use some comfy-er shoes."

"I don't really think they though you'd be walking around in those."

"Yeah, well, they should know better in Sunnydale." The injured slayer winced as she slipped on the fancy dress shoes. She rubbed her ankles with her hands, rebandaged more lightly thanks to her speedy healing process, and stood. "Let's go."

"Let's."

It was a Saturday morning and the streets were packed. The noise frightened Buffy at first and she held tightly to Oz's arm.

"You okay?" he asked with concern.

"I'm okay. It's just a little noisy, not bad, but it takes getting used to after all that quiet."

"As long as you're okay, because you could go back and just tell me your shoe size..."

"No. Absolutely sure. I can't stay inside forever. What's done is done, and I've got to get used to the noise, and the shadows, and the hardness..." She patted his arm with her free hand and looked around. "See? I'm all with the adjusting. Healthy attitude and whatnot."

"Gladness." Oz had stopped in front of a clothing store. "I bet we can find you something here. Shoes, clothes for however long you're staying."

"I don't know. It figures they didn't bury me with my wallet." The slayer frowned.

"No problem. I can spot you."

Buffy looked at him skeptically.

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but do you even have a job, Oz?"

"Yeah. Well, kind of. Not a consistent one. But I make enough. I found out the hard way that moving around the world whenever you feel like it isn't cheap. Don't worry about it."

Two hours and three shopping bags later, Buffy and Oz sat at a table in the same cafe where Oz had been sitting the night before. The slayer peered at Oz over the rims of her brand new sunglasses. He was staring at the street and hadn't touched his food.

"Earth to Oz..." she taunted.

He looked at her, one eyebrow raised in question.

"What's up?"

"People watching," he explained.

Buffy put down her fork and turned to look at the street. After a few minutes, she turned back to Oz. "This is interesting?"

"I think so." He grinned. "And you better thank your lucky stars that I do."

"Very true."

The waiter approached their table and placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of Buffy. She smiled her thanks, not wanting to abuse the French language with her accent. She picked it up in both hands and took a sip. A wide smile spread over the slayer's face, and she closed her eyes.

"Heaven..." she whispered, but quickly opened her eyes. She put the mug back on the table and took a quick sip of water. "I mean...really good coffee. But I'm not really in the mood for coffee anymore. Do you want it? No, of course not. I mean, you don't drink coffee anymore. Unless you changed your mind in the past few hours. Which I'm sure you didn't... Not like I'd give up Heaven. Just...coffee."

He looked at the coffee for a few long seconds and then up at her with intersity. "Willow said you were in hell." He paused. "You weren't."

Buffy looked away, "Yeah I was, of course I was. Very fiery and hot. I mean, why wouldn't I be?"

"You were in heaven." Oz's eyes were full of emotion. He knew. He'd figured it out in a few seconds. She should have expected as much from Oz. He had never missed a beat in all the time she'd known him, and it figured that a few years wouldn't change that.

Buffy couldn't meet his eyes. "What's done is done, Oz." She finally looked up. "Let's not talk about this."
**end seven**