Angel sighed as he put his car in park outside the Summers' home. From the passenger seat, Buffy looked over at the multiple cars in the driveway, and then to the front door. "Do I have to go in?" she asked quietly.

Angel turned the keys in the ignition, shutting off the engine. "No," he answered her honestly. "But they are expecting us."

Buffy continued to stare at the house, not moving from her seat. Angel reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She turned to look at him and gave him a grateful smile before unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the car door to step out. Angel sighed again and also stepped out of the car, following her inside the house.

Angel will always remember the few days after Buffy was resurrected as chaotic and confusing. He felt absolute, unbridled joy that she was alive, intense anger at Willow for using such dark magic to bring her back without thinking of the consequences, gut-wrenching sadness at the peace Buffy had lost, and various levels of anxiety at her mental state and well-being.

Angel finally decided that Buffy needed to get out of Sunnydale for a bit while she readjusted to life again, so he took her to Ireland. The perpetual gray skies, quiet villages, and rolling green hills of Angel's home country seemed to calm Buffy's frayed nerves that resulted from the initial chaos that of her return. The constant cloud cover also allowed Angel to travel around during the day and sightsee with Buffy.

They stayed there for about a month. Their flight home landed at LAX a few hours ago, and Angel had driven them straight back to Sunnydale to drop her off at home and attended the small welcome home party Joyce and Greg were throwing.

A few days after their arrival in Ireland, Angel received an email from Willow, explaining how she had done a spell that erased everyone's knowledge of Buffy's death, except for their group of friends, as well as Joyce, Greg, and Dawn. Angel scowled a bit when he learned that Willow had done another big spell. He had mixed feelings about Willow resurrecting Buffy. His dead heart nearly exploded with joy when he heard she was alive. And then it immediately broke when he saw how lost she was. He knew she was in Heaven, or whatever you want to call it. And then she had that peace ripped away from her. And Willow had done it all behind his, Joyce, and Giles' back.

Angel supposed the most recent spell Willow had done made sense though. Buffy had an obituary, a funeral, and a gravestone. Sunnydale was a small town. It probably would have raised some eyebrows to see a girl that was supposed to be dead walking down Main Street. It reassured him a bit when she told him that Giles and Jenny helped her with the spell. Angel had a sinking feeling that the witch was getting in over her head when it came to magic.

An excited squeal from the living room of the Summers' home brought Angel back to the present. Dawn was hugging Buffy tightly, an endless stream of excited words coming out of her mouth. "Welcome back! How was it? Did you see a leprechaun? Did it rain all the time? I read it rains all the time there. What did you get me? I hope you took a lot of pictures, I want to see them all! They put in a new taco stand by the Espresso Pump, it's not very good, Janice's mom got food poisoning. How was the food? Was it all potatoes and green beer?"

Buffy smiled at her younger sister and said, "Ok, breathe." Joyce, Greg, Giles, Jenny, Willow, Xander, Anya, and Oz all wandered into the foyer.

Joyce immediately stepped forward and wrapped her eldest daughter in a tight hug. "Welcome back, honey."

Buffy closed her eyes tight, enjoying the hug from her mom. After Joyce released her, Greg stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Buffy's shoulders in a warm half hug. "Good to have you back," he said.

Dawn and Joyce each hugged Angel, as their other friends welcomed the couple back. Greg clapped Angel on the shoulder and gave him a firm handshake. Angel liked Joyce's husband. He was smart, had a good sense of humor, loved Joyce, and cared deeply for Buffy and Dawn. Greg respected the fact that he was not their father, and never tried to overstep any parenting boundaries. It also helped that the first time Greg met Buffy, she was saving him from a vampire, therefore avoiding any awkward lies and explanations later on down the road.

A little while later, Angel leaned against the doorframe to the living room, watching Buffy as she showed the group a slideshow of all the pictures she took. The gang watched her happily as she explained each picture, gesturing to various things on the screen of her laptop. Occasionally Willow or Giles would chime in with some fact they had once read about the place Buffy was showing, but everyone mostly just sipped their wine or coffee and munched on the appetizers that were laid out on the coffee table.

Angel smiled to himself whenever Buffy horribly mispronounced the name of a town or castle they visited. It was hard to believe the person he was watching now was the same woman whose hands he had cleaned of blood and dirt just five weeks earlier. For what seemed like the millionth time, Angel was once again in awe of her inner strength and determination.

Angel felt someone at his side and turned to see Joyce watching her daughter in the living room. She seemed to be content just to watch Buffy, so Angel resumed his viewing of the slideshow.

After a few minutes, Joyce said quietly to Angel, "Thank you." Angel looked down at her, a questioning look on his face. Joyce looked up at him. "For bringing her back."

"Of course," Angel said with a shrug. "It was a long flight, I didn't want her to drive here alone."

"No, that's not what I mean," Joyce said with strength in her voice. Angel vaguely wondered how much of Buffy's inner strength came from being a Slayer, and how much was just genetics. "You brought her back. To us."

Angel looked back at Buffy, who was currently trying to control her giggles while she explained the picture of her kissing the Blarney Stone. He understood what Joyce meant. "She did most of it herself. I was just moral support."

Joyce laid her hand on Angel's arm and he looked down at her again. "Give yourself a little more credit, Angel," she said to him. "She couldn't have come this far without you." She took her hand from his arm and looked again at Buffy. "Watching her those first few days….I don't want to think about what it would be like if you weren't here for her."

Angel didn't want to think about it either.

"She's very lucky," Joyce said to him. "We all are." She left his side and joined the others in the living room, settling on the couch next to Greg, who immediately held her hand with his own.

Angel watched the group laugh at Buffy's story about how they visited the Jameson distillery, where Buffy promptly decided she did not like whiskey, much to Angel's amusement.

Lucky was not a term he generally associated with Buffy's life, or any of their lives. Angel always thought of her life as unfair. He was angry with the Powers for shoving the weight of the world on her young shoulders. But she was the longest living Slayer on record. She had her family. She had friends that stuck by her even after she let them in on the secret horrors of the world. Maybe Buffy was pretty lucky, considering her circumstances.

Angel knew he was lucky. He could still be homeless, alone, starving and dirty, had Whistler never showed Buffy to him. Or what if he hadn't killed that gypsy girl all those years ago? Would he still be running around Europe with Darla, leaving a bloody trail everywhere they went? Angel wasn't sure which was worse.

Angel looked around the living room, regarding each of his friends as he thought about what Joyce said. Greg was attacked by a vampire, but met Buffy and eventually Joyce due to the ordeal. Now they were married. Joyce had a recent health scare, but Greg was home when she started to complain of a severe headache and he was able to take her to the hospital. His early intervention saved her life. Dawn was technically just a ball of energy, but Buffy's sacrifice relieved her of that burden. Oz was a werewolf, but with the help and support of his friends he was getting the hang of controlling the change each month.

Angel walked into the living room and Buffy immediately looked up at him. She smiled and patted the arm of the large comfy chair she was sitting in. Angel perched on it beside her and rested his hand on her back.

Buffy looked up at him, laughter still lighting up her face, and said, "Tell them the name of the horse you had when we did that trail ride."

Angel grumbled down at her, but said, "…Buttercup."

Xander let out a bark of laughter, and Buffy launched into another story about how for the life of her she could not get her horse to stay on the trail.

Angel looked around at the happy faces of his friends and thought about what Joyce said earlier about being lucky. He remembered the hundreds of times they had all saved each other at some point over the past few years. Sometimes it was the result of careful planning and strategy, of stealth movements in the middle of the night, of weapons and blood and fighting. Sometimes it was just dumb luck.

Angel decided the reason didn't really matter.