The following few weeks were relatively uneventful. At least on the surface.

While Willow and the coven reconstructed the Watcher's Council in England and began moving the newly formed slayers into it, Buffy used that time to become better acquainted with the Immortal branch and to help interview potential Watchers to send there.

She also used the time to get to know Methos again. The friendship was still there, solid as ever, but a lot had happened in five years, to both of them and it was silly to just automatically assume that the people they had become would naturally click the same way the people they had been had done.

She was grateful to find that it was still possible to fall into a pattern of easy comfortability. There was no tension, no angst. Methos demanded nothing more than that she be happy and she was more than willing to give that concept a shot. He hadn't asked her for anything more than she could give and it was something that she could never properly thank him for.

It would have been too much. After not being able to love Spike the way he had needed her to…to have to tell Methos that she was incapable of the same would have been unbearable. He meant too much to her and she was glad he hadn't forced the issue. He seemed content the way things were…uninterested even, which led her to suspect that any feelings she had imagined him having before were either just part of his plan to find out if she were evil, or completely imagined on her part.

It was what she wanted, and yet something in her, deeply buried was disappointed. She couldn't deal with something like this, and yet at the same time couldn't deny the way she felt, whenever she touched him. They were innocent touches to be sure….a brush of the hand, a hug in the morning, leaning against his shoulders at Joe's and yet her entire body seemed to tingle whenever she did so. It was like it had a mind of its own, telling her that there was something there and to deny it was pointless. She hated it. She hated that her physical sensibilities and her mind seemed to be at war with on another.

He was an attractive man. One would have to be blind and a nun not to notice that, but it was more than just raw lust. Her body reacted, but so did her heart. When he smiled at her she would feel a flutter deep within her that had nothing to do with her body and everything to do with all the tenderness she harboured towards him. It was more than confusing. And yet he remained distant…strictly in friend territory. She was determined to keep him there as anything further would only complicate and frustrate her more. Better to keep her distance.

Dawn spent what remained of her summer hanging out with Richie, who she seemed to have found a like-mindedness and friendship in. Buffy was glad as it kept Dawn from wanting to be too involved in the Watcher's Council reconstruction and it meant she had found a friend.

Xander went out almost every night, but neither Buffy nor Dawn or Methos could get him to tell them where he went, or what he did. He seemed restless during the daylight hours, almost like a caged animal. Come nightfall he was only too happy to leave, usually showing up hours later at Joe's a little more relaxed, but not by much. Buffy worried, but he was unresponsive to any of their attempts at getting him to open up. Even Duncan seemed unable to coax him into talking.

Despite these things, life seemed to resume its course, the world not even realizing how close it had come to ending only a few weeks before.

The others had begun to go to different corners of the world, searching for slayers to return them to England and Buffy kept constant updates of there whereabouts and progress.

Buffy's nights were spent at Joe's, listening to blues and to Duncan, Richie and Methos tell stories of adventures past. It was almost like having the Bronze back. She missed the others terribly though and she told Methos as much one night as they sat in a back corner watching Joe perform. Duncan hadn't arrived yet, and Richie and Dawn were seated at a separate table. Nobody knew where Xander was.

Buffy sat, leaning into the crook of Methos' shoulder, and loving the way his sweaters always seemed to smell as if they had just come out of the dryer. He was a mixture of male and Bounce and it was incredibly comforting lean into.

Even though the music was good, and the company even better, Methos could sense her melancholy almost immediately. He had always been good with that.

"You're missing them." His voice was low, but it managed to cut through the music nonetheless. She nodded against him.

Methos stared down at the woman who seemed to snuggle up to him with relative ease and smiled, though she couldn't see it.

Duncan had been right. He was in love with her. He had been since they parted ways in the bus station five years before. It was stupid to deny it to himself, but it felt like the only proper thing to do. His feelings were the last thing she needed.

It wasn't the fact that she had lost Spike. Methos knew she didn't love him the way he had wanted her to, or even the way he loved her. Spike's death rather represented something she had been unable to give, and something she felt endlessly guilty for withholding. He knew she had changed, had been prepared for it.

But he hadn't been prepared for this. She had closed herself off almost completely. She wasn't unable to show emotion, or to feel it-far from it. She had more love for those around her than any slayer he had ever encountered. It was her love that had caused all those girls to realize their potential and save the world.

Yet for all the love she had for them, she never really knew any of them. Perhaps it was easier that way. Methos suspected that she had decided not to love anymore because with it carried too many regrets. He wanted desperately to tell her that the worst regret was a 'maybe', but didn't know how to broach the topic.

In truth, he was terrified of it. He didn't want to lose her and was willing to do almost anything to keep her close to him. If it meant playing 'supportive non romantic friend', then Methos was more than happy to.

Still, it was nights like this when she touched him so casually and with such trust that he became so tempted to take her in his arms and tell her everything and let the chips fall where they may. Luckily his restraint was stronger than his imagination and he never let on to the effect that she had on him.

She was staring off into the distance once more, obviously thinking of the friends she had left behind in England. He squeezed her hand gently and she looked up at him, blinking quizzically.

"Just seeing if you were still with me," he joked. She smiled apologetically.

"Didn't mean to zone out like that. I just…I miss Willow. I know she would love this place, and these people and it feels weird to just create a new world without her and Giles in it…especially since we went through so much in Sunnydale."

"I know how you feel Buffy." He assured her. "I of all people can truly say that. Immortals have to create new lives regularly, only usually when we do, it's because those we love are dead, not simply in another country. It hurts."

"I still think I should be training those girls myself." She continued, grateful for his simple understanding. "I created them, and it feels like I've gone on vacation and left them to someone else's teaching. They are my responsibility."

"You're one person." He said firmly. "And you can't be everywhere. You saved the world, believe me, this is not a vacation. This is a necessity."

"I just…" she sighed and sat up to look him straight in the eye. "Part of me is bored. I hate saying that, because it sounds so stupid. This is what I wanted, but…I don't know. I want to get into it again, you know? I feel like what if the apocalypse comes and I'm too busy living my 'normal life' to notice? What if I miss it?"

"I'm sure Giles and the others will give you a heads up if the world is ending." He chided gently.

"OK, point taken," she agreed. "Still…you think I'm stupid for being so restless don't you?"

"Never," he assured her. "You're the slayer. Slayers thrive on their own natures, whether they want to admit it or not. It's part of you."

"But not you," she observed carefully. Methos made sure not to let any sort of expression come over him. "You dislike upset and danger. You're genuinely happy staying out of the game completely, aren't you?"

"I don't want to die," he told her honestly. "Not getting into sword fights seems a good way to keep that from happening. I fight if I'm forced Buffy, but it's not the same. I'm comfortable this way."

"You weren't always," she pointed out. She still remembered Methos telling her of his past deeds and reminded herself that this mild mannered Welshman who sat in front of her and smelled like Bounce had also once been a ruthless killer.

"No, I wasn't." He nodded his acknowledgement without any anger. Normally he would be on the defensive when his days as a horsemen were brought up because it was generally done so by Duncan and generally in anger. Buffy wasn't angry though, she was curious. "But like any phase, I grew out of it. Killing can only hold that sort of fascination for so long. Sounds cruel, but it's true."

"Sometimes I thought I would never escape it," she told him with a heavy sigh. "And now here I am longing for it again."

"Once a warrior, always a warrior." He said simply.

She nodded, but was unable to comment further.

"Call Willow tomorrow," he suggested. "Maybe it will make you feel a bit better."

She nodded, and returned her attention to the music, silent for a few more moments before turning back to look at him.

"What do you long for Methos?"

"What?" He looked at her in confusion, unsure as to what she was asking.
"I just told you what I long for. What about you? There's got to be something in this world that you want more than anything."

Methos looked away, refusing to tell her the truth of it. His mind urged him to just turn to her and say, you. I long for you. But he knew that would only get him hurt. He smiled sadly.

"I long for many things." And then he brightened. "But right now, I long for another beer. Do you want anything?"

Buffy chuckled at his change of topic and shook her head no. She watched as he stood up to get another drink and resolved to call Willow the next day, a small part of her hoping that she would have a mission for her.