I know I said that this probably would not be continued but my muse and I seem to have disagreed about that. For now it will be continued as it is but I'm more than willing to take any input from any source at this point. Hope you enjoy.

Actions speak louder than words.

The action of the bike coming to a sudden stop and the rider sitting still for a long moment speaks much louder of the traveler's reluctance to face the person they've come so far here to see than any written word ever truly could. Finally the petite form in leather levers herself over the seat and takes her time with shedding helmet and gloves, tucking one inside the other, before taking another second to contemplate leaving them here with the bike. She'd been told that this place would welcome her, that he'd see to that if she cared to come, but old habits died hard. Idly she ran the fingers of her right hand, her helmet tucked under her left arm, through her hair and wished it wouldn't always stand up like that after she freed it from being restrained for miles at a time. She stopped before the elevator in the underground parking garage and tried finger combing her hair again with the near-mirror like reflection from the elevator door. With a soft bing and a deep breath the doors whispered open and she crossed their still moving threshold. The button she wanted was near the top and she had to fight the urge to pace within her small confines during the long trip. Surprisingly no-one else requested a stop along the way which left her in solitude except for her thoughts.

Would he still want her? Would he still want them to be together? Would he cry with her over Spike or have that snide smile in full effect when he spoke his name? Was this the right thing to do? Was this the right place to be? Was this selfish of her; trying to find comfort now after thinking he'd been gone over a year already? Would he still want her? What if it didn't feel right after she got off the elevator? Could she just go back down to her bike like nothing had happened? What if he didn't really want her and was only being polite? She wanted to bash her forehead against the gleaming steel of the elevator. Bad brain; off now.

The feeling of motion slowed and then stopped and the doors parted slowly before her. The lobby was large and cleanly if not ostensibly decorated. The lush carpet, glass panels of offices, and actual living plants spoke of comfort and style if not massive amounts of money. She took two steps into it and stopped, looking around again. Spider sense, that's what Xander called it. Her eyes rested on the back of a blond who couldn't be much taller than she was. Unconsciously her boots distributed the weight across the balls of her feet as she bent her knees slightly and prepared to tug the stake out of the hem of her jacket. The blond target turned around as she continued in the action of filing miscellaneous records and never looked up at her old high school... fellow student.

"Harmony?" Buffy whispered the blond's name but the secretary was oblivious to the new arrival as she continued through the ten minutes an hour of actual work she did. Buffy resisted the urge to fight and forced her body to relax; if Harmony was working for Angel now then she knew it wouldn't be the best idea for her to stake his secretary. Sorry, personal assistant. Buffy unzipped her jacket and let the sound do the speaking for her as Harmony finally looked up from the papers spread across the counter.

"Oh my God; Buffy! It is like so great to see you. Wow, you look a lot different."

"And you look... exactly the same."

"Thanks. You must be here to see Angel right? Well, I think he's busy brooding but I'll go check, K?" Before Buffy could answer yay or nay, the blond was gone and she was left with the feeling something else needed to be said between them. The last time she had seen Harmony had been in Spike's underground room. Or had it been after that? She realized that the mutual connection with Spike was all that linked the two anymore and wondered what that meant? Did it mean anything? Did it have to; because her head was still hurting with everything else she'd had to think of on the way over? The accent was what made her turn more than it forming her name or stirring echoes of the past.

"Wesley? What are you doing here?" True to British fashion he didn't really answer the question and instead moved to wrap her in a hug.

"Buffy it's been so long. I'm so glad you're still alive. Giles must be so proud."

"Uh Wesley? I guess you didn't get the memo, but the world is kinda chock full of Slayers now. Giles pretty much has his hands full. What about you? Didn't I hear you were dead?"

"Due to some ancient magic and a few tears I was resurrected soon after the battle."

"Resurrected. Seems to be a lot of that going around these days."

"I'm sorry no-one told you. Personally, however, I believe he made the right choice in keeping his distance from you. At the time there was a lot of... lets just say things were difficult enough as they were."

"Uh huh." Contrary to popular belief, she actually did know when to bite her tongue when there was absolutely no way this conversation could end well for either of them if it continued. She was almost grateful for Harmony coming back around the corner despite her arrival meant there was no backing out now.

"He wasn't brooding; he was dealing with some weird looking guys but he said he's wrapping up so he'll be out soon." Buffy turned back to Wesley with a look that said she was glad to see him but the conversation was over.

"Good seeing you, Wesley, but Harmony and I have some catching up to do."

"Yes. Well. I'm sure I'll see you around, Buffy." As he walked away, Buffy turned back to Harmony's upraised face.

"We do?" Luckily the door to what she guessed was Angel's office took that opportunity to open and two cloaked demons with gray faces made their shuffling way out, hands tucked firmly inside, and without a backward glance moved past her toward the elevator. Her eyes followed them even as she kept herself from taking a cautionary step back and it wasn't until she turned back around that she saw him framed in the doorway. The words left her mind.

"Buffy." Her name. The way he said her name, like it was his world. Was that what she missed the most about him? Her feet were standing still. Why were they doing a stupid thing like that when she was already here and he was only feet from her? Finally one of them stepped out and hit the floor with a soft thunk before the other copied its mate. He held the door open for her and she moved softly past him, feeling his presence even through her thick jacket and letting it make her shiver.

"I'm glad you came." The door closed behind him and he took a step before stopping and tucking his hands into his pockets. Why did this feel so weird? Because she had slept with Spike? No, she was still Buffy. Nothing she could do could change that; could change what she meant to him.

"Me too."

"So what happened to you not being big with the driving?" At last, a safe subject. She seemed to think so too, as she set the helmet carefully on the edge of his desk and moved to shed the zippered jacket. He took it from her and threw it behind him where it caught on the coat tree. Her eyes followed its motion before meeting his gaze and she let one upraised eyebrow ask the question for her.

"Too many movies. Now C'mon, what about the not driving? Something to drink?" She eased into the chair with its back closer to the wall and crossed her legs right over left as she leaned against its arm.

"Well, it actually turns out that riding is a lot more like holding your balance than driving, which is something I'm really good at by the way."

"Driving?"

"Balancing. I rode a few times with Spike when he was... so when we got to England and the whole not driving thing combined with the everyone's on the wrong side of the road thing, I decided that with the bike if all else failed I could always drive on the sidewalk. I started with a moped, actually, thinking small, easy to handle, and not too much speed could be a good thing. I guess it was just too small, easy to handle, and slow."

"And that's when you bought a hog?"

"Actually it's called a crotch rocket, but yes. Gave the moped to Dawn and took off cross country to give it a test drive. Turns out cross country England style is a lot shorter than cross country American style."

"Makes sense, England's smaller."

"Yeah but that wasn't quite it. In America anywhere you go you're likely to find someone that speaks the same language you do. In Europe, even in England, I felt like I was the one speaking a foreign language most of the time."

"Uh, Buffy?"

"I know, Angel; I was kidding. So what about you, mister lawyer man extravaganza? Which road exactly brought you to the swanky office and killer desk?"

"The scenic route. Things have changed so much, even since last year. Buffy, I never thought I was going to see you again."

"But I'm here. So we're both with the happy, right?" Silence breeds consent. "Then why aren't we more... happy?"

"I'm very happy to see you, Buffy. It's just... the last time we talked you told me Spike was your champion."

"I didn't want you to get hurt for me again. Besides I was still..."

"Cookie dough; I know. But then I get a package in the mail and it's the amulet and Spike. And what was the first thing he did? Well, I'm not exactly sure actually. But I know the first thing I would have done."

"Call me?" Her voice is softer, more fragile, than he remembered it could sound and he sucks in the remainder of his less than flattering words about Spike. She was here because he was dead. That was it. She didn't want him, didn't want to be with him, or she'd have been here already.

"Yes."

"But you said he was a ghost, right? How was he supposed to dial the number he didn't have? Never mind; I'm not going to defend him." Her eyes catch on the mug Angel lifts to his lips full of blood but her mind sees different words; words from a different mug from a different place so long ago. Her feeding Spike with a mug that said 'kiss the cook'. Spike, as one of his first acts after being allowed to go free, taking a red permanent marker and replacing both S's with L's. A tear finds its way to the corner of her eye as she remembers how pointless and spikeish it had seemed then but how cute and funny it was now.

"Buffy I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"I know. It's fine." Maybe if she doesn't blink the tear won't fall. Maybe it'll just go away somehow. Maybe he won't notice. The handkerchief held out from across the desk tells her it's too late to worry about that. That's right, super nose; he probably smelled the salt.

"I'm still glad you came. For a long time I didn't think you would."

"I had a few things to take care of, some stops on the way." Didn't he want her? Where was the sexual tension that would normally be just about to break into a rolling boil at this point? Why wasn't she in his arms telling herself not to kiss him a second before she actually would? Why wasn't he whispering soothing thoughts into her hair and promising her that everything was going to be alright?

"Is Dawn...?"

"She's staying with Giles so she can go to school. Willow's there too. And Xander." He needed more help than any of them right now, she wanted to say, but Angel and Xander had never really been close enough for her to think he'd care. His thoughts were along a different path. With all those people there for her back 'home', why was she here? Because as always they were too involved in taking care of everything else for them to notice she needed anything. Just like they always had, he reflected. Maybe Spike wasn't right to do what he did. He realizes that they've both fallen silent and that she looks even more tiny when she's sunk down in the chair like she has. Her green eyes are locked on his face and he wonders just how much of his troubled hope and desperation she sees there.

"Angel, why are we doing this?" Apparently not enough.

"Doing what?"

"This. We're sitting and talking about everything else but what brought me here."

"I guess I was trying to find some easier way to lead into it all."

"Well there isn't one. Spike's dead. Again. And you never told me." He leaned back in his chair and pushed the mug further to the side with one hand. Well, as long as they were being honest.

"I never told you a lot of things. I didn't call and tell you when he gave up his chance at being corporeal so we could stop the ghost of a vicious killer. I didn't write when we found out more about the prophesy that said one of us would become human after averting the apocalypse. I didn't email the battle plan for said apocalypse to you and Giles. And I didn't do any of it for a very specific reason. I didn't want you to get hurt."

"I am not a little girl any more, Angel. You do not get the right to protect me from things I've been crying about for over a year."

"I wasn't trying to protect you."

"But you just said."

"I said I didn't want you to get hurt. Protecting you would have been sending Spike on the next speeding plane-"

"Planes don't speed."

"-to wherever you were that week with the hope that you might choose him instead of the Immortal." There, it was out there in front of them now. If Buffy's pale skin could have gotten paler, it did. She realized she was about to break a bone in her hand if she didn't relax her clasped grip and forced herself to do so.

"You knew about him." It wasn't a question anymore. Was that why he didn't want her? It couldn't be. She hadn't done anything with him.

"We knew." 'we'?

"Spike too? Oh my God. No wonder he didn't call. He said you guys hated him."

"We have... history. But I stayed out of it, Buffy. I didn't try to protect you and I didn't try to warn you."

"Yeah, well, I almost wish you had." For a second he wasn't sure of what he had heard.

"I'm sorry?"

"Let's say that he wasn't all he was cracked up to be. He's a whore, did you know that? Sucks energy from his partners slash victims. That's how he's stayed alive for so long."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. We never... I mean, we weren't... like that."

"Oh." If there was something else for him to say it couldn't get around the massive roadblock that was this new revelation.

"We danced and partied but I wasn't ready and he kept going home with other women. And me? I'd go home to Andrew. Please do not get me started on how unfair that deal was. Besides, he told me once that when we danced I was like a bonfire I was radiating so much heat and I never noticed if he took any or not so we left it alone."

"Oh." Was he repeating himself? He must be from the way she was looking at him and he closed his eyes to try and keep her out of his soul.

"You really thought that we were..."

"Andrew kind of hinted at something to the effect, yes."

"That little weasel. It's not bad enough he leaves dirty towels all over the bathroom floor, he's gotta tell both of my exes that I'm shagging their immortal nemesis?"

"I wouldn't exactly call us his nemesis-is."

"You have problems with that too?"

"Not really my strong point." They lapse into silence again and she's starting to wonder if this is such a great idea after all. All they've done since she got here was talk about her exes and her loves and her family. When were they going to talk about her? When was he going to wrap her in his arms and tell her it was going to be alright? Maybe she should have faxed him an itinerary before she'd left London. Four o'clock, brood. Four thirty, greet Buffy with nice words and fruit/chocolate. Five o'clock begin the physical consolation. Maybe she should just leave; this wasn't working out.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" It was the simple assuming way he said it, like he knew her answer before she knew the question that made her nod her head mutely and follow him closely to the door leaving jacket and helmet behind. Their feet carried them silently across to the elevator and neither of them acknowledged if there was another person in the lobby. The elevator moved just a few floors before stopping and asking for authorization. Angel spoke a single word in a language she didn't recognize and the elevator moved another half floor or so down before opening its doors. They stepped together into sunlight filtering down through trees from above. Birds called to each other and a multi branched path led away from their feet providing them with countless options. Angel wore his trademark tightlipped smile of satisfaction as he could practically smell her surprise and appreciation.

"This is amazing." Was it? Next to her it looked like a cheap city park. Their chosen path led them around and across a few wooden foot bridges over small bubbling creeks.

"It's magic. Everything real, but everything not."

"It's still beautiful." She doesn't care. She's walking in the sunlight with a man who truly does understand her. Finally they come to a larger open area and Angel touches her arm lightly to turn her toward him. The first time they've touched since she's arrived and it sparks warm chills down her back.

"Buffy, I..." She's turned more fully opposite him and is now only inches away. Her scent is strong here, enhanced by their short walk and her exuberance. The words catch in his throat and shortly he discovers that not only are the words meaningless, but she still tastes the same as she used to when he deserved her.