Hey folks! Right now, I'm so glad I'd decided not to start posting chapters until I'd written several ahead. Computer's still down, though hopefully that'll change by Wednesday. In the meantime, here's what I have recovered of Chapter 3. Again, I'm not entirely sure this is the final edit. I *think* it is, but if there are still some mistakes, typos, parts that don't flow, etc, that might be why. As always, I'd like to thank the patient and talented Love-el-ly Joy for all of her help and fabulous ideas. Onward and upward!

Fred opened Angel's office door to find Angel, Spike, Buffy and Gunn lounging amidst empty food cartons, swapping stories.

"…so of course, I have no idea what this thing's power is," Buffy was saying, her legs propped up on Angel's lap, "but most of the time it's the claws or the bite that's dangerous, so I figure as long as I don't get scratched or bitten, I'm solid, right?"

"You would think," said Gunn.

Angel smiled, his hands resting on her propped up legs. "Something tells me you would think wrong," he said.

Buffy grinned at him. "Of course, otherwise there wouldn't be a story," she said. "So at one point in this fight, I fell and cut myself on a rock or something. This thing walks right up to me and, as I'm sitting there, ready to defend myself, he goes and spits on the cut, which is not only totally gross, but totally uncalled for, I'm thinking."

Spike smiled. "And I'm sure you told him as much."

"Well come on! Just because we're enemies fighting to the death doesn't mean we have to resort to spitting! So as I'm yelling at this thing for being such a jerk, I realize it's getting bigger. Then I realize my voice is getting squeakier."

"Oh no," said Angel, realizing the implication, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Fred looked at Angel in surprise. As he looked at Buffy, he looked somehow… lighter than she had seen him in a long while.

"Oh yes," said Buffy, continuing her story with a twinkle in her eye. "By the time I stopped yelling and realized what was going on, I was about 6 inches tall."

"I don't get it; how is that any different than usual?" asked Gunn.

Buffy swatted at him. "Watch it, buddy!" She looked up to see Fred watching intently. "Hey, Fred!" She turned to Angel. "Does anyone on your team ever go home? Slave driver."

"Hey, I didn't make her stay," he said in his defense.

"Slave driver?" said Spike. "Hello pot, meet kettle."

"Hey, I resent that!" she said with a pout.

"Spike just doesn't know what it means to be responsible for anyone else."

Fred cleared her throat to cut through their bickering. "I just wanted to let you know that Giles's plane gets here in about 3 hours. We can have a driver come and pick him up – that would put him here in just over 3 ½ hours or so."

Moving her feet, Buffy stood up. "Alright, well I need to get over to Annie's. I need a shower and a change of clothes." She was cut off by a huge yawn. "And maybe, if I'm very lucky," she added, "a quick nap."

"Where is her place?" asked Angel.

"East 53rd St."

"Wait, Annie as in… Does she run a shelter?" asked Gunn.

"Yeah, she started it a few years back. Why, you know her?" said Buffy.

"Hell yeah I do! How do you know her?"

Buffy smiled, thinking back to her brief escape to LA years ago. "It's a really long story. We went through a thing."

"She never told me she knew you!"

"Well I imagine it never came up," she said, stifling another yawn.

"You want a ride over there?" asked Angel. "I can drive you."

"You know, usually I'd say I'm fine walking, but if you wouldn't mind, a lift would be great. That jet lag is a killer."

"Of course," said Angel.

Spike put his hand on her shoulder as she started to leave the room.

"It really is good to see you, pet."

She smiled at him, covering his hand with her own. "You too. I miss you. We all do."

"Of course you do, pet," he said with a quick smile. "Who wouldn't?"

"Do you want a list?" said Angel.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Alright, guys. Come on, Angel," she said, leaving the office with him.

The two made their way down to the garage slowly, reveling in each other's company.

"So how's life post Sunnydale? I know you never thought you'd be able to leave."

She smiled. "Yeah, hence my running to the other side of the world."

"How are you dealing with the blank spot on the map?"

She chewed on her lip for a moment before responding. "You know, sometimes I think to myself "Thank God that miserable place is gone," but sometimes I really miss it. Like there's a hole inside of me."

He nodded in understanding. "It makes sense. Some of your best and your worst memories are there."

"God, that's for sure. I get whiplash just thinking about life on the Hellmouth. The good times were so wonderful, but the bad…" She shook her head. "Enough! How's your work over here going?"

"A lot like your time in Sunnydale, actually," he said, pressing "down" on the elevator. "We can do a lot of good with these resources, but some of the evil we're forced to allow, or even support, makes you wonder if you're doing the right thing."

She gave his hand a squeeze in support and understanding.

"Don't tell Spike I said that. I've been playing the confident Champion every time he brings it up," he said.

Buffy chuckled. "Been there. Mum's the word."

"Besides," he said as the elevator doors opened. "there have been some perks to the job."

Her eyes widened as she took in the assortment of cars. "Holy sh-"

Fred hurried over to Lorne's office. She opened the door to find him just taking off his jacket and scarf.

"Lorne! Where have you been?" she asked.

"In a meeting with-"

"Never mind, it doesn't matter," she said, cutting him off. "Guess who's here."

Lorne groaned. "Depp isn't here, is he? I told him the Doctor just isn't the right role for him! But-"

"Lorne!" she waited until she had his full attention. "Buffy's here."

"Buffy… wait, Buffy? Slayerkins is here?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"She's chasing some demons that got to some of her girls."

"How are the guys?"

"Oh Lorne, you should see them."

"Broody and testy?"

"No! I mean, you're the empath demon, but…"

"Where are they?" asked Lorne.

"She went back to her friend's place. She won't be back here for another few hours."

"Good, I need some rest before I jump in there. How about the big guy?"

"He went with her."

"Oh, this I can't wait to see."

Buffy and Angel pulled up to Anne's place in one of his less flashy cars, considering the neighborhood.

"Hey, thanks for this. I take it you've meet Anne before?"

"Yeah, she's never mentioned that she know you though."

"I don't think she knew who you were. Whenever I was in LA I would stop by to see her and… uh… we've randomly kept in contact over the last few years," she said, knocking on the door. "I don't think I had used your name before."

"What?"

"Well you were always just 'he' when you came up."

"Okay," he said since that didn't really explain much. The door opened before she could say any more.

"Buffy," the Anne said, opening the door "you didn't have to knock."

"I'm sorry. I know it's late."

Anne ignored the apology. "And Angel. It's nice to see you again. Come on in."

"Thank you," said Angel, stepping in with Buffy. "It's nice to see you too."

"I'm going to hop in the shower, if you guys don't mind. Anne, I'm sorry, I know you guys have curfew."

"We've already been through this. You warned me you'd be in and out at odd hours. And the curfew hardly applies to those who keep creatures of the night off the street."

Buffy gave her a quick grin. "Thanks. Angel, I'll be out in a minute."

"Take your time," he said, giving her hand a quick squeeze before letting go.

"Angel? Would you like some tea?" asked Anne once Buffy had made her way upstairs.

Since he heard the unspoken command in her voice, he replied with a simple "Sure."

"I've wanted to meet you for a long time," she said once they were in the kitchen, while she poured two mugs of tea.

Angel raised his eyebrows. "We've met before."

"True," she conceded, handing him his mug. "Let's say I've wanted to have a chat with you for a long time."

He took a sip of tea, indicating for her to continue. Instead, she studied him closely over the rim of her mug until he shifted uncomfortably.

"I wanted to talk to the man who could make the strongest, most capable woman I know run away from her calling, or show up on my doorstep close to tears twice in her first year of college."

Angel looked down as her words hit home.

"I wanted to understand the man who, despite everything, she still speaks of with reverence and respect."

Angel looked up at her, still not sure what to say.

"I won't pretend to understand the history between the two of you," she continued, "though I can now say I understand why she said you make silence a form of conversation."

Angel's lips quirked at that as he glanced up to where he could hear the water running.

"But I do understand that when Buffy chooses to trust or believe in someone, she is rarely wrong."

"How do you know her?" asked Angel.

"Ah, so he speaks!" she said, a twinkle in her eye. "Did you know that when she was 17, she ran away and ended up around here?"

"Yeah. I … wasn't around at the time, but I heard about it." His eyes widened. "You were with her in that demon dimension!"

Anne nodded. "I owe her a lot. Not just because she always makes it a point to help out around here, but because she gave me the strength to become who I am today."

Angel nodded. "I'm sure she would say you always had the strength, you just never realized it."

She smiled at him. "You're a good man."

"Well thank you."

"You and that other vampire-"

"Spike?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, that's the one. I understand there's a weird history between them, too, but you're both good for her."

"Spike?"

"From what I've gathered, you both let her be weak. She may be extraordinary, but she's still only human."

"Uh oh," a voice broke through. "Are we having a serious talk?" asked Buffy, coming into the kitchen, her hair wet from her shower. "Do we need to break out the cookie dough?"

"Cookie dough?" he asked, unable to resist brushing a piece of damp hair off her shoulder.

"Yeah," she said, sliding herself up on the counter. "Whenever we have a serious talk, we do it while making cookies for the kids here. Should I start cracking eggs?"

"One of these talks didn't happen to be about developing as a person without a man, did it?"

Buffy blushed and pointedly changed the subject. "Is there anything you need done around here, Anne?"

Anne put her hands on her hips. "I need you to get some sleep. If you're going to go off fighting evil, you're not going to do it jet legged with no sleep!"

Buffy mock-saluted her. "Yes ma'am! But Angel-"

"I could use a nap, too," he cut in.

"Well fine, if you're going to gang up on me," Buffy grumbled, leading him up the stairs.

Opening the door, Buffy looked back at Angel. "Sorry the room is such a mess. I haven't gotten the chance to unpack yet. I'm not good at living out of a suitcase."

"It's not a problem. Here, hand me that bag, I'll help you unpack."

"You really don't have to-" she began.

"Buffy," he said with a small, patient smile, "give me the bag."

She passed it over to him with a smile of her own. They unpacked in silence for a moment before Angel spoke. "What were their names?"

Buffy didn't have to ask to know he was talking about the fallen slayers. "Michelle, Allison, Sarah and Kennedy."

Angel nodded, putting a shirt in a drawer. "How have you been coping with it?"

"Everyone's pretty shaken. No one wants to patrol, of course, which has made things difficult. I don't want to turn it into a 'you're the slayer you must patrol no matter what you're going through' situation for them, but at the same time-"

"Buffy," he interrupted. "That's not what I asked. How are you coping?"

Buffy sighed and remained silent for a moment. "I tried to make it so that being called as a Slayer wasn't a death sentence," she said. "I tried to keep future slayers from making the choices I had to make, or dealing with the loss…" She sighed. "They wouldn't have died if we hadn't done that spell."

'No," said Angel, "but they may have when the First took over the world. You made it so that girls can walk away from their calling, knowing that there are others to pick up the fight. You gave them a choice. Slayers no longer have to bear the burden alone. That's an incredible gift."

"Tell that to those girls," she said quietly.

Angel looked down, knowing he had no reply to that. He spotted a small box and picked it up. Opening it, he found the cross he had given her one that first night in Sunnydale. Resting next to it lay Mr. Pointy.

"That's all I have left of Sunnydale. Everything else got swallowed up into the crater."

He was elated to see that she still kept the cross, but kept it to himself. Instead, he picked up the stake with a sort of reverence. "Mr. Pointy," he said.

"I think of her whenever I use it. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one who even remembers she existed. No friends, no family… Giles said he never heard from her Watcher.

He said nothing, letting a moment of silence for the fallen Slayer… the fallen girl, pass. Buffy sat on the bed, a preoccupied frown on her face as she rubbed her forehead.

He sat down next to her. "What is it?" he asked.

"I'm worried about Willow." Her muscles slowly started to relax as he stroked her back. "Not that she's going to go dark again or anything," she said, leaning into him, "but to lose someone again, so soon after Tara… It's not fair."

"No, it isn't," he said, still stroking her back.

"And I can't be there for her because I chased it over here, not even pausing to wonder if Will needed me there."

"Really," he said, doubtfully. "Not pausing at all."

"Well, not for very long."

He shook his head. "Buffy, you can't be all things to all people, all the time." He thought back to his conversation with Anne. "You may be an extraordinary person, but you're still just one person," he said, his hand lulling her to sleep. "And Buffy?"

Her head drifted into his shoulder as she responded with a drowsy "Yeah?"

"You're allowed to grieve, too."

She said nothing for a moment, until- "Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," she said, drifting off to sleep against him.

He smiled down at her for a few minutes until he finally rested his cheek on top of her head and let sleep claim him.