It was a few days and one or two phone calls to Paris before Buffy and her group of new slayers were ready to travel. She had managed to scrounge up enough money to get most of them there, but had to rely on Methos to wire her the rest. She could have mentioned it to Angel, but for some reason she felt better taking money from Methos than Angel. She knew he would do it, regardless of whether they were getting along at the moment, but it felt wrong to her to ask him for something when they weren't on the best of terms. This was far less messy.
She gave Angel only the barest of answers when he questioned her about her plans, feeling guilty when she did so, but unable to talk to him more than was necessary. Every time she looked at him, she felt guilty and she wasn't even sure why anymore. Part of it was guilt over missing Spike. Part of it was guilt that she could still feel that familiar and deep affection for Angel while missing Spike. It was very confusing so she opted for the less confusing option of avoiding Angel entirely. It was childish, certainly, but sometimes acting like an adult wasn't all it was cracked up to be.
She made several attempts to talk to Xander on a more personal basis, but he was unresponsive. She hoped that he would talk to Willow more confidentially at least if he wouldn't talk to her. It was clear he was hurting pretty badly, but shutting everybody around him out. She knew that was the quickest way to a personal breakdown and he had been through so much already.
The slayers for the most part were excited to be going to Europe. Most of them seemed to view this as some sort of extended vacation, and Buffy was happy that they seemed to be OK with it. It had been a long hard battle and a horrible way to introduce them to their birthright, but as long as they kept their spirits up and were there for one another, she had high hopes that they would all become excellent slayers. She was hoping they would use their early experience in the field to help the other slayers that she intended to find and train.
Eventually everything was ready and they were all more than ready to leave the Hyperion and move on. Buffy had a feeling that they wouldn't be able to stay too long anyway. She had noticed significant looks passing between Angel and his people and had overheard something said by the green skinned demon about moving shop. She hadn't asked them about it, partly because it was none of her business and partly because she was avoiding Angel, but she wondered what had happened here in the previous year. Angel didn't seem to be his usual self when she did encounter him and it worried her.
The airport was busy and she was having a hard time keeping track of the entire group, they were so large and spread out. She had said a terse good bye to Angel in the hotel, and now she was feeling guilty over not cutting him a little more slack. He deserved more, especially since he had done nothing but try to be there for her. The problem was, that he was no longer what she needed. Not in this case anyway and she wasn't sure how to deal with that.
Eventually it came time to board the plane. Buffy had decided that although they would eventually be going in separate directions, it made more sense for all of them to go to Paris first. They would meet Methos there, and she, Xander and Dawn would head back to his place while the others would catch the connecting flight to England with Giles to search for a new place to set up the slayer branch of the watcher's council. Willow would locate the slayers there and send the teams out from the England base. Buffy would be working with Methos and Joe to help the transition and to get Watcher volunteers if the slayers became too many.
She held back, making sure all of her friends and slayers were on the plane before she looked to Dawn, nodded and headed to the terminal gate. She was about to step in when she heard someone calling her name. The voice was as familiar to her as her own soul. She wanted to ignore him, to turn around, get on the plane and call Angel later and apologize. She could always make up some excuse; say she never heard him call her name. But despite her will, her body had a mind of its own and it was already responding to him. Dawn went ahead of her, leaving her standing there, facing Angel and utterly unnerved in his presence. She wasn't sure if he expected her to apologize or if he had come to do that very thing himself.
"What are you doing here?" It was the only thing she could think to say.
"I…I didn't like the way we said good bye." He looked at her shyly, almost as if he was a young man, insecure and awkward. It was a false image. Angel had not been young for a very long time. Despite those centuries, the insecurity was genuine. It was always that way when he was near her, and Buffy knew that. It warmed her slightly to know she still had this effect on him.
"Me either." Her voice was hoarse and tentative. "But nothing has changed Angel. I didn't want to…when I look at you, I feel miles apart. You may not be judging me, or my feelings for him, but it feels like you are. And I don't know how to get past that."
"We don't need to right now, do we?" He looked at her with near desperation in his eyes. "We don't need to fix everything now. You're still cookie dough, still baking remember? I understand that you need time, I just…I just wish you'd let me touch you. I wish you'd let me in, even just a little."
"Angel…" she didn't mean to move into his arms. It wasn't the plan, but all of a sudden, she was there, and she was safe and whole again. It was an illusion, and they both knew it, but for thirty seconds she allowed herself that illusion, allowed herself to pretend that nothing existed other than the two of them…that sorrow, or grief couldn't touch her. And then as soon as that feeling had come, it was gone again, replaced with the knowledge that she had allowed herself to forget Spike and her pain just for one moment in Angel's arms. The guilt overwhelmed her and as she looked into his eyes, she knew he sensed it.
"I'm sorry," he told her softly. He moved back, allowing her her space. Reaching out with his hand, he caressed her cheek softly, her entire face fitting neatly into his large palm. She closed her eyes and tried to fight back the tears. "I know you loved him Buffy, but I love you too. Call me when you're ready, OK? I'll always be here."
She nodded, unable to respond to him and turned away, making it all the way to the gate before she allowed a tear to roll down her cheek. The attendant at the gate smiled sympathetically. It comforted her a little bit.
By the time she took her seat next to Dawn, she was dry eyed again, having pushed her pain into the corner of her heart she had reserved for hiding her emotions. It was a slayer trick she had learned after being brought back to life by Willow. She allowed her face to slip into the mask of isolation, refusing to deal with anything but the in-flight movie and the overly salted peanuts that were provided. She would grieve later.
Her sister looked at her expectantly and she felt herself smiling a fake smile she was sure Dawn could see through.
"He just wanted to say good bye," she told Dawn. "I'm fine, really."
"Yea, sure." Her sister sounded disappointed that Buffy did not want to talk, but refused to press the issue. The plane soon took off, and Buffy allowed herself to lean back in the seat, let her shoulders release some of the pent-up tension she had been feeling since the town sunk into the hole and fall asleep for the rest of the flight to Paris.