"So what was that all about back at the hotel?" Cordelia blurted out, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. They had been patrolling for about twenty minutes in silence, which to Cordelia had been the longest, most agonizing twenty minutes of her life.

"What was what back at the hotel?" Angel wondered. Cordelia fixed him with a steady and somewhat unnerving gaze, for Angel knew precisely what it meant.

"Cut the crap Angel," she told him. "You do innocent-face about as well as I do tact."

"Nothing happened." Angel said quietly, realizing she had called him on the innocence act, but not wanting to admit anything beyond that.

"When we left you in that basement you were fine. When you came up stairs not even ten minutes later, you looked...well you looked the way you used to...when she was around all the time."

"This isn't about her." Angel snapped.

"Then who else flipped the heartbreak button on your face down there Angel?" Cordelia retorted. "Did the water heater break up with you?"

"Nobody broke up," he said, calming down slightly, but still angered by Cordelia's persistence. "We aren't together. I guess I forgot that for a minute, but don't worry, she reminded me of it rather effectively."

"Angel you made the decision to leave her and come here." Cordelia reminded him gently. "Maybe she hasn't gotten over the fact that you didn't consult her about it."

She touched his arm in a silent gesture of support, wondering all the while, why she was attempting to reassure him when it came to Buffy. The last thing she wanted was to see Angel unhappy and slightly selfishly the last thing she wanted was to see them reunited. Would he never get over her?

"It's more than that," Angel said with a shake of his head, completely oblivious to Cordelia's thoughts. "I mean I know my leaving affected her, but...I guess I don't know what else has. We've been leading different lives now for four years and sometimes...well, sometimes it seems like it's Buffy again you know? We're fighting together and everything is the way it used to be, and other times, it's like we've never met. She's this totally different person and I'm not sure I like the person she's become. She's harsher, stronger, completely closed off to me."

"You've changed too Angel." Cordelia told him. "So have I. I mean, if I were the same self absorbed rich bitch that I was back in grade ten, well something would be wrong there wouldn't it? People change. Experiences either strengthen you or weaken you. You can't be there for every bad thing that happens to her, no matter how badly you want to be. She is a woman now, and she's able to stand on her own. Maybe you two have just changed too much to ever really relate."

"No," Angel said with an adamant shake of his head. "I won't believe that. She's Buffy. No matter what has happened to her, or what she's gone through, the girl I loved is still in there. I know it."

"Maybe," Cordelia consented, "but maybe you should just leave her buried deep inside. What good will it do either her or you now to bring her out? Nothing has changed. Do you want to hurt her even more?"

"God no!" Angel exclaimed. "Hurting her is the last thing I ever wanted and ironically enough it's the only thing I ever seem to do. I just....I mourn the loss of the girl I knew, and I fear the woman she has become."

"Is that really it Angel?" Cordelia asked him seriously, "or do you just mourn the loss of the girl? Maybe you loved her because she was just a child and needed your protection to some extent. I realize that she was the slayer and didn't need it physically, but emotionally...well you protected her from the horrors life had to offer. She doesn't need that now. Is that what is killing you inside? The fact that she's grown-up?"

"You make it sound like I only loved her because she was a child!" Angel said angrily, "that I'm some sort of demented..."

"I didn't mean for it to sound that way," Cordelia started to say, not wanting to make him angry. He interrupted her, eyes blazing, voice low and harsh.

"I loved Buffy because she was a beautiful person in every way. It wasn't because of her age, and she was never a child just for the record. She was the slayer. She wasn't allowed to be a child. The fact that she's a woman now, or apparently no longer needs my support has nothing to do with it. She's hiding from who she is, trying to stay as far away from the world as possible. How healthy is that?"

His voice dropped and his shoulders sagged with burden, as if recalling the conversation they had just had in the basement.

"I want to take some of that pain away. You're right when you say I want to help her, but only because I know I am partially responsible. I wounded her more deeply than I will ever know and it's tearing me apart inside." He drew a shuddering breath and then spoke so quietly Cordelia had difficulties hearing him. "I still love her Cordelia."

Cordelia swallowed the lump building in her throat as the weight of Angel's statement crashed down upon her shoulders. She loved him with all her heart and even though she knew he could never give his heart to her as fully as he had to Buffy, hearing him say those words out loud, was crushing nonetheless. Does he even realize? She wondered to herself.

"I know you do," she half whispered. She wanted to say more. She wanted to erase the pain in his eyes, or the sadness in his voice, but knew it was impossible. There was only one person who could inflict such pain and only one person who could heal it and she would never be her, no matter how close the two of them became. She turned to him, attempting to apologize for even bringing the topic up, when she suddenly felt the wind being knocked out of her completely and felt herself being shoved forcefully to the ground.

Before she knew it, Angel was hauling her assailant off of her, and engaging in a brief struggle, before staking it and watching it turn to dust. Turning back to her, he extended his hand and helped her up looking a bit apologetic.

"Sorry about that. I should have been paying attention. You OK?" Cordelia shook her head, not trusting her own voice and motioned for them to continue walking. It was going to be a long night.