A/N: I feel so loved… (happy tears) And I got a new reviewer! Yea!

Special thanks to the one and only GeekGrrl, my beta! (She's the one who came up with the 'couch-dweller' part in the last chapter, which I adore.)

It seems like lots of peoples like Andrew…. Interesting. He might play a bigger part then I originally was going to have him have.

Chapter Four – On the Way

Glancing at the large man asleep next her, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth, Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her seat on the airplane. She shivered and huddled closer to the window, watching the clouds float beneath her, a task she had enjoyed since she was little. It made her think of the snowy fields she played in when she visited her cousin Celia in North Dakota. Those were some of her favorite childhood memories, and sometimes she wished things were that simple again.

A non-descript flight attendant passed her with a cart. He smiled as she looked up.

"Would you like anything, miss?" His tone was polite, with an unmistakable English accent.

She was about to ask for a water and some ice when she realized she would have to reach over Mr. Fat Belly to get it. With a small smile, she shook her head. The attendant gave her a knowing grin and continued down the aisle. Buffy sighed and turned back to watching the world go by.

Try as she might, she couldn't keep from wondering why Angel had come to see her. If it had been so important, why hadn't he stayed to talk to her? She missed his voice sometimes – the way one always misses the feel of first love. But she yearned for someone else's touch more. The way his hands brushed against her cheeks when he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. The way he held her when she felt like her world was breaking apart. The way he told her everything she needed to know with his eyes. His beautiful, beautiful, blue eyes.

Buffy hurriedly wiped away a tear that trickled down her cheek. Couldn't she go for a day without thinking about him? He was gone, and that was that. She would never see him again. He would never get to read the gravestone she placed for him outside the wreckage that was Sunnydale, never get to sit under the little willow sapling she planted at the Watcher's Headquarters just for him, never get to hear her tell him she loved him. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window and felt her tears carve wet paths down her face.

The flight attendant glanced back at the young blonde woman gazing out the window and felt his heart wrench. Squashing his pains of guilt, he reminded himself he still had to accomplish what he had been sent here to do. He pushed the trolley into the 'employees only' part of the plane, where one of the female attendants sat, idly toying with the hem of her uniform's mini-skirt. As he came in, she rolled her brown eyes and scooted away from his seat, trying to get as far away as possible. But the boy remained standing.

"I've got to make a call," he told her. The redhead raised her eyebrows, but did nothing else. "Can you leave?"

"No, I'm staying here. My feet hurt from pushing that trolley around." The young attendant pouted and rubbed her supposedly sore feet.

"You did your rounds once. Now leave, I'm going to talk to my girl friend."

The girl immediately recoiled. "Ew, pizza faces like you actually date? That's… eck." With a visible shudder, she got up and pushed the cart down the aisle, pausing once every seat and asking if anyone wanted something to drink with a charming smile.

The male attendant stuck his tongue out at her as she continued. "Bitch." With that, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and pressed speed dial.

"Pick up, pick up," he muttered, watching the other attendant warily.

"Wolfram and Hart, Angel's office, how can I help you?" an overly peppy voice asked.

"Harmony, I need to talk to Angel, now," the boy hissed. His accent had vanished.

"Justin? I'm sorry, I can't let you through. He's on his way to a very important meeting right now."

"This is more important, trust me. He needs to hear this. It's about Buffy."

"God damn it, what is up with this Buffy chick? Everyone's always swooning over her, 'Oh my God, Buffy, I love you so much, marry me,' and she's all, 'No, I'm too busy playing hard to get and watching you fall on your ass and –"

"Harmony, give the phone to Angel," Justin interrupted icily.

"God, sheesh. He'll be here in a second, as soon as I find him."

There were a few long moments, where Justin shifted his attention between a redhead and a blonde nervously. Then a deep male voice came through the line.

"Justin? What do you have to report?"

"Angel. Buffy's on a plane to Los Angeles."

Silence.

"Buffy's what?" The vampire's tone was sharp and clipped.

"She's on a plane to Los Angeles. Flight 2209. We're about an hour away from Newark. She has a connection there, and another in one in Chicago."

"How do you know she's coming to L.A.?"

Justin rolled his eyes, glad his superior couldn't see him. "I'm telepathic, remember? She's heading out to see you about why you went to see her."

"But that issue is done and over with."

"She doesn't know that."

"Okay, fine," Angel sighed into the phone. "I'll deal with it when she gets here. Good work." He placed the phone back in its cradle on Harmony's desk, who was trying very hard not to eavesdrop. Angel leaned against the desk and put his hand over his eyes. He stayed in that position for a while, listening to the lawyers pass by and discuss their personal lives and to the clacking of Harmony's keyboard.

He was eventually roused by his assistant. "Er, boss…" she began. "Don't you have a meeting to go to or… something?"

"Right. Thanks, Harmony." Angel's voice was tired as he made his way back to the conference room.

Justin hung up his phone and then glanced back down the aisle. The redheaded attendant was flirting with one of the passengers, a young businessman in a suit who was clearly enjoying it. He rolled his eyes, then turned his attention to the blonde woman whose silent tears were flowing down her cheeks like rain. Again, he felt her sad face pull at his heart strings. And again, business was more important.

He dialed swiftly, waiting more patiently for an answer. "Angie? Yeah, it's Justin. Put him on." He waited again, a little more apprehensive this time.

"Hello?...Yeah, she's here…Uh huh, I made sure he knows…Everything's going according to plan. I told you to trust me…Yes, I remember…Uh huh…Uh huh…Okay, I got it. Put Angie back on, please, the bitch I have to work with today is coming back."

Seeing the flight attendant had finished making her rounds and was making her way back to the employees' areas, Justin immediately adopted his English accent again.

"…I love you too, hun. Say hi to Alyssa!" Justin pressed his cell phone to the other girl's ear just as Angie's voice came through in an overenthusiastic 'hello.' Alyssa responded with an 'uh-huh' and sat back down, rubbing her feet.

"Bye, baby." Justin clicked his phone shut and stashed it in his pocket. Alyssa just watched him as he sat down next to her and stretched his legs out.

"You know you're supposed to use the plane's phones, right?"

"They don't work at all. You're always missing half of the conversation."

Alyssa sniffed. "They work better then cell phones."

"Not mine," Justin told her with a grin, patting his pocket. "My phone's special."

Alyssa rolled her eyes and took a nail file out of her purse.

9 Hours Later

Angel sat at his desk at Wolfram and Hart, staring at the wall across of him, his chin in his hands. He hadn't told Spike about Buffy yet, and he had no intention of doing so. With any luck, she'd be gone, and nothing would have changed.

The door to his office swung open, and Spike swaggered in, a chocolate donut in his hand. He raised his eyebrow at Angel's forlorn appearance and waved his snack in front of his grandsire's face.

"What's wrong, mate? You look like someone just decided to break up Manchester United." His donut paused half way in his mouth as realization of what he just said sank in. "Manchester United is still alive and kicking, right?"

Angel just nodded, still brooding, completely oblivious to Spike's question.

Spike raised his eyebrows as he sensed an opportunity in the making. "I'll just be going then." He began to edge towards the door, popping the last of donut in his mouth. "You don't mind me borrowing your car, do you, mate?"

Angel nodded, and Spike grinned. He stopped edging and made a beeline for the door before Angel could change his mind. Angel's voice stopped him in his tracks just as he reached the threshold. Groaning with frustration, he stopped, and waited.

"Not the Viper, Spike."

Looking over his shoulder, the vampire smirked at his grandsire. "Whatever you say, Pops."

Angel scowled as Spike slammed the door behind him.

The former ghost strutted to Harmony's desk, where he held out his hand for the keys to Angel's cars. The blonde was on the phone, and randomly chose one hanging behind her and thrust it at him. He shook his head and mouthed 'Viper.' She returned his gesture, motioning for him to just take the one she had given him. He rolled his eyes and reached over her desk to grab the key ring labeled 'Viper: Not for Spike.' With his trademark grin, he winked at Harmony and walked off towards the elevator.

Alone in the elevator, Buffy nervously watched the floor display, silently willing it to go faster so she could get out. She couldn't understand how she could fight a seven foot demon but get wigged about riding an elevator. True, Wolfram and Hart's elevators were really big, but they were evil elevators. They probably put a spell on them or something to seem larger.

After dropping her bags off at a hotel that Giles had booked for her, she had slapped on some lipstick and headed straight over to Evil Inc. She just wanted this over and done with.

The elevator pinged, and she adjusted her purse on her shoulder as the door slid open. She took several deep breathes and raised her head, only to meet the most beautiful blue eyes. Eyes she had believed she would never see again. She decided her previous plan had gone straight out the window.

A/N: Don't you just love cliff hangers:) And yes, there is a plot in this. It can't be all fluffy!

And to my wonderful, most bestest reviewers in the whole world, I give chocolate donuts in honor of Spike! These would be Kali, satelliteblues21, willow-wiccan, Ember, and all10xs! Thank you for remaining loyal to this fic. (tears of joy)

And for those who were hoping for the whole confrontational chap, don't worry, it's next!

Willow-wiccan: Andrew is kind of hard to write at first, but if just keep thinking about random little things he does – like drinking the Capri Sun and complaining about the hot pockets – it eventually comes to you. It also helps to know someone younger and try putting their behavior as Andrew's, and then revising it to be more Andrew-like. Plus, if you read fanfics that have Andrew in them (I find that there are barely any Spuffies with Andrew in them – weird, huh?) you get a better feel for him. Hope that helps!