Because nobody likes a vague disclaimer: Characters belong to the fantastical Joss Whedon.

Buffy POV.

Chapter XVIII : Storm, Blow Me From Here With Your Fiercest Wind. Let Me Float Across The Sky 'Til I Can Rest Again

from Woman Work by Maya Angelou

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I drive for one straight day stopping only to eat, use the bathroom and gas up when I finally crash at a small motel in New York State. The next day I realize i'm only a couple hours away from Manhattan, and when I get there, I immediately know this is where i'm supposed to be. There are actual season changes here, and it feels far enough. And from the moment I get here, I like it.

I sell my car and put down a first and last deposit on a small apartment in Manhattan in the East Village. The city is big enough to disappear in, and crowded enough that the sting of loneliness only ebbs at the edges of my mind. In this city of cities, I am merely one among hundreds, alone with the world at my fingertips. Besides, there is no shortage of things that go bump in the night.

But they're different. Either because they're New Yorkers or the desire to end the world isn't strong, the vamps here aren't very ambitious. Mostly, they want to feed and party. It's the perfect medium for me because I don't think I have it in me to stop another apocalypse but I also don't have it in me to quit slaying altogether. It's all I have left.

"Anne?" His carefree voice interrupts my morbid thoughts and I groan inwardly.

Nick works with me at the diner, and he's had a thing for me since I started. Turning to face him, I force a polite smile onto my face. I already know what he's going to ask, and I already know what I'm going to say.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out for a cup of coffee, or tea if you'd prefer, after work today?"

His cheeks are tainted red, and his confident sincerity makes my smile more genuine, and if I didn't have a trunk full of issues, I might be tempted to say yes.

"I'd really like to Nick, but I'm beat. Rain check?"

I've been 'rain checking' him for a month now, and my patience is running thin. I just figured that after the 4th rejection, he'd get the hint. Apparently not.

"Long day? Been there. Ok, no worries. Next time." His smile looks unsurprised and only slightly defeated.

I'm starting to realize that I'm going to have to be more direct in my denial. Just not today.

"Have a goodnight and see you tomorrow." I reply simply.

He flashes a big grin, and it's contagious enough that a small one creeps onto my own in response.

"You too, take it easy."

By the look on his face, I know I've made an error. He hasn't gotten the hint because he manages to crack through my wall (like just now), and he mistakes the authenticity of my smile for interest. I mentally kick myself for that, and make it a point to avoid doing it in the future.

Walking outside, the crisp air feels fresh on my face and it feels like it's going to be a good night for slaying.

My intuition is right, and it's not until well after 2am that I get home. I turn on the single light by the door, and unload the necessary layers of clothing needed for living here. I head for my bedroom, peel off my skinny jeans, grab my bathrobe and head to the bathroom for my routine shower. An evening of serving food and slaying vampires leaves enough residue that one is needed.

Stepping out of the tub, a sensation as familiar as the shape of Mr. Pointy strikes me. I know better than to hope, but the feeling is there, and all it's ever meant is him. How I even feel him doesn't exactly register. I can't help but feel like he's always walking in and out of my life, and no matter how many times it feels like the end, it never really is.

I throw on my robe, run a brush through my hair, and check myself over in the mirror. It'll have to do; my fresh face and wet hair because I'm not sure I can wait much longer.

Stepping out of the bathroom I know I'm right. The light that was on is now off, and I can see the faint glow of the living room lamp. I inhale a deep breath, and exhale steadily; trying to slow down my fast-pumping heart, even though I know he won't hear it.

I walk into the room to find him sitting in my quaint old armchair, and it's the sight I imagined when first laying eyes on it that prompted me to buy it.

"Angel."

I say, my voice exactly the same as my sixteen-year-old counterpart once said it. A welcome tinged with elation, an unrestricted declaration of love, a spreading of warmth within my heart.

"Buffy," He responds, his eyes already fixated on me.

He says it the way he always had as well, a promise of devotion but this time there is also a hint of relief in it. He offers a slight one-sided sweet smile, and it makes me want to roll my eyes at him for it.

"How did you find me?" I ask indifferently. Maintaining casualness is key here. It's the safest zone for my battered heart.

"Nice to see you too," He responds, still as a hawk, but clearly feeling at home in my apartment. Yes, I like it.

"And to answer your question, it wasn't easy. After Cleveland..." He pauses painfully.

"I pretty much lost track of you. It just never occurred to me that you'd head so far away. Luckily, one of the slayers left that has actually met you, was here visiting her family and she saw you. Small world... anyways, she told Faith, who told me. After that, with four jobs and all, it got a lot less difficult."

I take in his words, and although he says them gently, they strike a familiar nerve within me.

"And you felt entitled to break into my apartment while I was in the shower because you were so good at playing detective?" There's some harshness to my tone of voice that I rightly feel he deserves.

He chuckles lightly, "Hardly. You're just as predictable as ever."

He opens his palm, and inside it is what I recognize as the spare key I leave on top of the door ledge. As a slayer, I have to have one somewhere; what with my nightly excursions, keys are bound to get lost.

"You know, this is the city. You should be extra careful."

I can tell he wants to tease me, but the words come out sincere.

"I can take care of myself," I answer briskly.

"So now I have the how, what's the why?"

a/n: ok, last chapter next. Angel... and Buffy pov. stay tuned.