Buffy dialed Wesley's number with some trepidation. When Giles had first left Sunnydale, she had called him fairly frequently with Slayer business. He made it clear that he'd always be willing to help her no matter how far apart they were. But he was also trying to rebuild his life in London and his relationship with Olivia.

Six months after everyone left, Buffy had flown to England for a long weekend to visit the gang and give her support to Willow, who was still undergoing magical detox. Olivia had been unfailingly polite, but it was obvious that she associated the Slayer with the dangerous life that Giles had left behind. It was also obvious that if the Hellmouth were to encroach on their current life too often, Giles would lose his last chance to be with her. Since then, she interacted with him solely in a surrogate daughter capacity, and turned to Wesley for Slayer business.

Each time she'd contacted Wes over the past few years had felt like a personal failure. She wasn't supposed to need a Watcher anymore, right? That's what Giles had said. At the same time, she knew that Wesley's life had changed dramatically over the years, and he needed her respect and confidence as much as she needed his wealth of knowledge. He seemed so happy every time she asked for his help. And occasionally, he'd seek out her advice on fighting techniques when he was taking on a demonic problem without Angel.

She'd found out by accident about Connor, and when she confronted Angel about it, he told her the whole story: from the baby's conception to Wesley's betrayal. Personally, she felt it was a forgivable sin, as it had been done with the best of intentions, but Angel and his people didn't see it that way. She never brought it up with Wes, because that would mean she'd have to tell her own sordid tale and explain why she called him instead of Giles.

"Wesley speaking," a British voice intoned, breaking into her runaway thoughts.

"Oh hi!" she said awkwardly, feeling caught off guard.

"Buffy?"

"Yeah, it's me, sorry, I…"

"Oh, it's quite alright," he interjected. "How are you?"

She twisted the phone cord around her fingers nervously. Why did she always have to get this worked up over talking to Wesley? It was hard to believe he was the same ex-Watcher that she'd fired for being overbearing and cowardly. Then again, it was probably hard for him to believe she was the same flighty girl that had been so adamant about getting away from her destiny. He had changed, as they all had, and was now a formidable ally. And quite possibly a great friend, if either one of them had the guts to take that next step beyond business contacts.

"Good, pretty good," she managed. "And you? Are you feeling better?"

She could hear him smile. "I'm well, thanks. I could do without getting shot again for at least a few months. Who ever heard of demons toting firearms?"

"I'm glad you're better, Wes," she said sincerely. "Are you swamped right now?"

"No, just sitting in my flat, feeling sorry for myself," he joked, but she could hear the grain of truth in his words. "Is there something you need?"

Need, need, she thought. No needing. Can't afford the needing. "Well," she said aloud, hesitating.

"I'm happy to help, Buffy. Always looking for a chance to make up for what a horrid Watcher I was," he encouraged her.

Buffy sighed. "You did what you thought was right. That's what matters. It's in the past." Coming to a decision, she continued, "OK, here's the deal." She explained the Kuunchadri situation as thoroughly as she could, careful not to leave out any details.

Surprisingly, his first question was not about the case. "Oz is there?"

"Yep, ran into him in town today."

Knowing he wouldn't pry any more personal information from her, he turned his attention back to the topic at hand. "I'll use every resource at my disposal to look into this, Buffy. Though I think you're right, and it's not the Kuunchadri of legend coming, it'd be wise to determine whether there are any real prophesies on the subject."

"Sounds good. Thanks, Wesley. I really appreciate it."

"Take care," he replied. "I'll phone you as soon as I've discovered anything new."

Wesley sighed as he hung up the phone. He'd been so happy the first time Buffy called him for help. He knew she was alone in Sunnydale, and it didn't sit well with him. While he'd been born and raised on Watcher dogma, he'd seen how strong a woman, and Slayer, Buffy had become. And he knew that a large part of that was her support group. A loving mom, devoted friends, and a dedicated Watcher. Somehow all that had become tainted, and Wesley didn't know why. Over the past few years, he'd only gotten bits and pieces of the story from her. The few rare times their conversations had become personal, she had firmly directed his attention away from the subject of the former 'Scooby Gang.'

Then, looking out through his office door into Angel Investigations proper, he realized precisely how a bright, devoted group could disintegrate over time. It's what had happened to the A.I. team, after all. From their humble beginnings in a tiny office where their unified goal had been to 'help the helpless,' they'd morphed into a group of bitter, mistrustful, near-strangers whose leader doggedly pursued an elusive reward for muzzling his fangs.

Personally, Wesley felt that the Shanshu prophecy was just another rabbit unleashed by Wolfram and Hart for Angel to chase around in circles. What better way to corrupt him? However, Wesley's word meant very little these days. After a year of being abandoned and shunned for his betrayal, they had finally allowed him back at A.I. If he sounded bitter, it's because he was. Of course, the real reason they allowed him back was that they needed his research expertise. He lived with it, because he really wanted to help people and make up for his mistakes. Pulling himself back to the task at hand, he began phoning his contacts to find the texts he needed.

Back in Sunnydale, Buffy hung up the phone in time to hear the doorbell ring. Grabbing her purse, she went to join Oz at the front door. He went to get his wallet from his jacket pocket, but she waved him off.

"My treat," she said, smiling brightly at the delivery guy and handing over several bills.

He smiled back happily. "Saw your order and thought they'd got it wrong, Kyon." He stared at Oz, sizing him up. "You must be the spinach and mushrooms guy." His voice held a veiled threat.

"Now now, play nice, Fen," Buffy ordered, laughing. "Oz, Fenuudri; Fenuudri, Oz."

Oz offered his hand. "Nice to meet you." He met Fen's eyes directly, hoping he'd get the message. Buffy certainly had a lot of people watching her back in this town. His lips quirked in approval.

"You too, dude," Fen grinned, message received.

"Did you hear about the meeting tomorrow night?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah, got a message on my cell," he assured her. He nodded to Oz, and then reached out to kiss Buffy's hand. "Have a lovely evening, Lady Kyon." He whipped out a pair of sodas from thin air and handed them over. "Drinks are on me," he called as he returned to his car and drove away.

Once they were settled back on the couch with full plates of food, and sodas of course, Buffy began to relate her conversation with Wesley.

"What's Wes doing these days?" Oz asked, curious about the thin, squeamish man he remembered.

"Working with Angel in L.A." Off his expression, she continued, "I know, seems weird, huh? But Wesley's changed a lot. And now, well I'm kinda worried about him."

"How so?"

"We never talk much about personal stuff, which is mostly my fault. But I can tell he's bitter. There was a falling out between him and the rest of Angel's team. He made a decision based on a prophecy, trying to save Angel's son, but it was all a set up. Wes got his throat slit and nearly died. None of them even spoke to him for a year after that."

"Son?" questioned Oz, incredulously.

Buffy couldn't help but giggle. "Crazy, huh? This evil law firm resurrected Darla and then had Dru re-vamp her. She and Angel, well, you know, and poof --- mystical motherhood. Anyway, everyone and their evil brother wanted a piece of the miracle kid, who's pretty much human, just wicked strong. Then Wes found a prophecy that Angel would kill his son. There were all these portents, so he snatched Connor and ran. But he got double-crossed by another long-time enemy of Angel's, who wound up taking the kid to Quor-Toth. A few weeks later they came back, but hell dimensions being what they are, Connor had aged eighteen years."

"That's some heavy shit," he murmured.

"Yeah, I got most of this from Angel, who is still so totally angry, but I feel bad for Wes. He's back amongst their ranks now, but from a few comments he's made, I think it's just 'cause they need his super-Watcherly skills. They treat him like a second rate citizen." She paused to chew on a mouthful of pizza.

"It's probably been good for him to help you out sometimes," Oz said thoughtfully.

She sighed. "I know. It's been good for me, too. But…"

"You have to stop with this failure crap," he ordered, voice brooking no argument. "Needing help isn't weak, and being willing to ask for it is brave. You can't be everywhere at once, Buffy. This is why Slayers are given Watchers. The Watcher is supposed to help ease the Slayer's burden." He grew angrier as he spoke, but she could tell it wasn't directed at her.

She laid a hand on his arm to calm him. "Giles left so I'd grow up and stop depending on him. He was right, I clung to him and expected him to take care of everything. Raising Dawn, fixing the financial hole I was in…"

Oz shook his head. "So you weren't perfect. You'd just been ripped out of heaven. Was the best solution to abandon you completely? There are other ways to teach someone independence. And why didn't he kick your friends' asses and get them to help? Will and Tara lived here for free. Why didn't they get part-time jobs to lighten your load?" He ran a hand through his spiky hair in frustration.

"Oz," she murmured. "You don't have to…"

"What, stick up for you? And then, after they commit the sin of resurrecting you because they couldn't live without you, they leave." He jumped up and began pacing back and forth.

Buffy watched him carefully, still unsure what to do in the face of his anger. "Look, Giles never told me not to call him with Slayer stuff, I know he'd still help if I asked. But he's got a great life going, and he's got Olivia, and so I chose to leave them out of it. It's better this way, with Wes and me. I don't blame any of them for leaving. They all lost so much here. Will lost her magic completely. I don't think she'd feel safe on the Hellmouth without it."

Oz stopped abruptly to stare at her, and she could see the Wolf crawling beneath his skin. His eyes flashed silver momentarily. It was a striking sight. He seemed about to protest her statement, but attempted to calm himself instead.

"She may have started out wanting to help you," he murmured finally, "but somewhere along the way, she starting needing to be better than you." He sighed heavily, wondering how he could've missed all of this. He'd seen the signs. He just didn't want to believe that someone sweet and caring like Willow could become so twisted by her feelings of inadequacy.

"The Watcher's Council was right," Buffy murmured softly. "The First Slayer was right. I'm not meant to have friends. I've screwed up so many lives because I wasn't brave enough to fight alone."

Oz shook his head. "That 'one girl in all the world' stuff is crap. It's not destiny, it's a bunch of old men making sure they have control over their warriors."

"What a mess," Buffy whispered.

He sat back down and tentatively took her hand in his. "I understand why you don't want to pull any more normal people into the fight, but there are others who're already in it that want to help. Like Wes…" he prompted.

"Wes," she repeated, pulling herself together. "He needs me, doesn't he?"

"I think you need each other," Oz corrected gently.

She sighed. "He's been so good and non-pushy. Have I been taking advantage of him just like Angel's team?"

"I don't think so," he comforted.

It was Buffy's turn to stand up and pace back and forth. "What should I say to him? How do I fix this?"

"What do you want to say?"

She paused. "Um, how about 'Sorry I've been treating you like crap'?" She continued pacing. "How could I have neglected him so much? Only calling when I need help, and then being so embarrassed about it that I don't bother to see if he needs anything from me." Her pacing morphed into stalking as she resolved her will.

Oz couldn't help but smile. Whenever Buffy set her mind to something, it was as good as done. "So what's the plan, Stan?"

She stopped abruptly, looking incongruously shy. "Do I call him?"

"My advice?" She nodded. "In person is always better."

"Go to L.A.?" she squeaked, clearly spooked by the idea.

He waved a hand in front of her face to bring her back to Earth. "It's big, but I think he'd appreciate the gesture."

She resumed stalking. "I can do this, I'll just…go… But when, and what do I say when I get there, and do you think he'll…" she babbled.

"Just take it one step at a time," he advised. "First, you can pick a day. And then we'll take a little road trip."

"We?" she smiled.

"That is if I'm invited," he added, feeling suddenly embarrassed that he assumed she'd want him around that long.

"Of course." She paused. "Weird, huh? You've been in town for like six hours and I'm already planning you into my plans."

He smiled back. "I know the feeling; especially with the whole 'I've opened my mouth and now I can't seem to close it' thing I've got going."

"Yeah, believe it or not, I'm not exactly a Chatty Cathy myself these days. But I want you to know you've got a 'get outta jail free' card, here. You can leave if the freak factor gets too high, no harm no foul."

"Noted."

"Okay. A day. Well, today's Sunday and I work during the week, so what about next Saturday?" she offered, and he nodded his assent.

They settled in and watched TV, though neither was paying it much attention. Buffy was mapping out what she'd say to Wesley, and preparing herself for the prospect of seeing Angel. She knew he'd been dating Cordelia for a couple of years now, but every time she saw him he gave her that same puppy dog, 'are you still my girl' face. It made her feel ill. Naturally, he assumed that her solitary ways meant she was waiting for him. When was it that she realized he'd always see her as a sixteen year old girl that needed saving?

Bringing her attention back to the here-and-now, she couldn't help but smile at Oz's presence in her house. As loath as she was to admit it, she really did get tired of being alone, and he seemed to fit in her world in a way that few others ever had. Speaking of…

"Oz?" She waited for him to face her. "Can I ask a question?" He nodded. "What brought you back here?"

He was silent for a long moment before answering. "I was in Manhattan, rooming with a cousin and playing in a couple local bands." She smiled at the image. "One day, I was wandering around 47th Street, where there's all these instrument shops, and suddenly I just felt this tug, and I thought, 'Sunnydale.' After that, I kept feeling it; I even had a few dreams about playing with the Dingoes again. A few weeks later I took off, and here I am."

"It's a turvy-topsy world," Buffy murmured. "Were you happy there?"

He sighed. "As happy as anywhere, really."

"Meaning?"

"When I first started traveling, it was like a quest. I figured once I found my grail, it'd be over. So my favorite places were the ones where I learned to control the Wolf. But when I left here the second time, I just traveled to get away. More like running, which sorta made everything seem hollow."

"I get it," she replied, somewhat bitterly. "That's how it was for me that summer in L.A. I was so messed up that even the parts that were exciting, like being out on my own in a big city, got ruined."

"I always got why you left," he offered.

She smiled. "I know, I could tell. I got why you left, too. I'm sorry I didn't help you more."

"Some things you have to figure out for yourself."

"We'll work on the Wolf thing," Buffy promised, meeting his eyes so he'd know she meant it.

"I'd like that," he replied simply, and they fell into comfortable silence.