While part of Buffy cringed at thinking like fifties-girl, at least one part of her rejoiced at the idea of doing such a stereotypical female thing as cooking a dinner while the guys were all hunting down food and doing work to ready the hotel. Cooking for forty, there were chores for everyone. Willow quietly rejoiced that this Buffy seemed so much less manic. Fred and Sam Finn just tried to be helpful, while Andrew moved to the other side and worked on preparing some of Anya's favorite pies. Buffy supervised the operation, periodically barking orders, checking on the turkeys, and ensuring that there was a batch of mushy peas for Giles. And making sure Dawn followed the recipes to the letter - because peanut butter turkey stuffing was just plain wrong.
But as far as Buffy was concerned, the real champ was Trish Burkle. Having Trish, certified mom and veteran of Texas-sized family gatherings, around as a calming influence amidst the Industrial Sized Kitchen-y chaos brought back a familiar and much-missed comfort all-of its own.
Angel drifted in and out, nervous about having so many faces operating his kitchen, and offering to help. And sighing in amusement when he noticed Willow hovering over the cookie trays.
"Willow's been all taskmastery with the new slayers in Cleveland, and making the with the Chocolate Chip cookie trays is just her way. I'm fairly certain she's not trying to send you any secret messages. It's nice to have everybody together, and be a part of something that isn't about death. Plus, this time around we'll actually get to spend a real Thanksgiving Day together celebrating our miraculous good fortune. We should have done this years ago."
She noticed the cringe, though unaware of his missing son or a Thanksgiving that never was. On the other hand, she did notice the uneasy glances directed at the unfamiliar slayers and Tracy in particular. Considering his pensive expression, Buffy wondered briefly if he thought he knew her from somewhere, but dismissed the idea. Angel's cases wouldn't have taken him to Cambria - that was even farther up the coast than Sunnydale.
Otherwise, Buffy was glad to see that folks were mingling more. Giles, Wesley, and Robin talked over in the offices with some of the newer watchers. Lorne and several of the girls were animatedly discussing fashion and pop stars in one corner, while Riley, Roger, Gunn, Faith, and Eddie were watching football games on a big screen TV they'd brought into the lobby. Anne, Xander, and some of the kids from the shelter set up the long tables and started setting places.
"You did good, Buffster. And I'm not just saying that because it's my first home-cooked meal in years. Deadboy's pulled together a pretty good group of people here, and maybe it was a mistake for all of us to try to keep things so separate between Sunnydale and LA. But if you tell him I said anything nice, I'll show everybody those pictures Dawn got when I took her by your dad's house last week."
There was plenty of blame to go around on that score. Supposedly, things would be easier if they kept their distance and tried to forget. And their friends had been pretty solidly behind that plan - not that it had worked all that well for either of them emotionally, or professionally. If the last years had taught her anything, it was that Angel and Buffy, and their teams, were more powerful working together than alone, and it wasn't fair to the people they wanted to help out if relationship issues got in the way of doing their best.
But whatever future Buffy and Angel might have as Buffy and Angel was very much still in the future. There were a lot of reasons he left Sunnydale, a lot of reasons she let him go, and enough of those reasons hadn't just disappeared. There was a Gypsy curse to think about, some very serious questions about what sort of future she really wanted, and whether it was even possible to have it with Angel. Plus, the time in Chicago was really important to her, and there were two more years - minimum - and she wanted to get the most out of it. Assuming she wanted to come back, would he still There was a lot she didn't know.
But what she did know, was that the lights still dimmed. And that the loneliness, the burden of their own expectations, the sense of duty and responsibility, the doubts about their own worthiness, and the need to be someone - that the things that formed the basis for their kinship were still there for both of them. And she knew that she missed him.
So certain frustrating topics would have to stay off the table for the time being, but the not talking to each other crap had to stop. They could be "just friends", especially with half a continent and four years of separation between them.
"It's
not like Faith doesn't tell me how often you call and ask her how I'm doing.
Or that I can only get so much about you second hand from Wesley, Xander, and
Dawn. Maybe we should be talking more than shop. We used to, and it was pretty
nice as I dimly recall. And while I think I have a pleasant phone voice, I'm
not such a sparkling conversationalist as to make you too happy, am I? Right
now, it's all we can have, but it's better than what it was."