Buffy woke up already feeling overwhelmed. She had next week's patrol rosters to complete, the usual training classes to lead, research on some suspicious deaths that had occurred, trying to figure out that weird demon, and finally, various boring administrative tasks to work on. She almost wished Giles was around to foist paperwork on, but they had never fully regained their earlier closeness after that last year in Sunnydale, and currently he was in Europe heading up a different slayer training facility.

She also had the Angel situation to deal with. When she had returned home four nights ago, it seemed easy. Find him, tell him she was way past over him and ask him when he would be leaving. In reality, she had no clue how to even start the conversation, so instead she just avoided him. She hadn't seen him since she had spied on him in the garden. Buffy was aware that this was no solution at all, but she had no energy for anything else.

Putting together next week's team-ups took close to two hours. Buffy was always hopeful that one day this particular task would go more quickly, but it never did. By the time she determined which of the experienced slayers would be good matches for the newbies, all the while taking into account personality conflicts, recent pairings (she tried not to repeat team-ups for at least four weeks) and where current hot spots were that might require the attention of more than just two slayers, several hours had passed.

Buffy's stomach grumbled just as she was writing down the last name. She hadn't eaten yet, and an early lunch would be perfect. She headed into the kitchen and nuked some leftover pot roast. Due to the number of girls and their high metabolisms, the kitchen was open almost 24 hours a day. It turned out several of the girls weren't bad cooks, so they handled most of the kitchen duties, mostly huge vats of stews and casseroles. Not exactly gourmet food, but it was cheap and filling. Xander would have to go on a staples run tomorrow, no matter how much planning she did, it seemed that they were always running out of something on a close to daily basis. The administrative headaches of housing, feeding and clothing a hundred girls was overwhelming at times, and again she wished that someone else would take over that particular headache. At least killing demons was fairly straightforward.

Buffy expected to find the dining room nearly empty. Breakfast would have been long over, and eleven o'clock was too early for most of the girls to be eating lunch.

The room was nearly empty. There was only one other occupant. Unfortunately, it was Angel.

He was sitting at the far end, his back towards her, shadows swallowing him. She noted that he was sitting as far away from the front of the room as possible. Even if someone else walked in, it was likely he'd be ignored. All the way from across the room, she could see the tension in his back, the hunch of his shoulders. For whatever reason, he was trying to hide from the world.

She felt a small pang of guilt. Slayer central wasn't exactly a top tourist destination. Obviously he had come here because he wanted to find her and so far she hadn't even said hello. It had been a long time, but she didn't need to be deliberately rude. He hardly knew anyone here at the compound. He looked more out of place than he ever had back at Sunnydale, which was impressive, considering. But that wasn't her fault, she reminded herself. It's not like anyone invited him here.

Buffy worried her bottom lip, trying to decide what to do. Realistically, she couldn't avoid him forever. Time to do the grown-up Buffy thing, and clear the air between them. Put into action the advice she had received the other night. Make it plain that she was no longer the girl-child he had fallen for all those years ago, and whatever he was hoping to rekindle wasn't going to occur.

As she started to make her way towards him, someone else entered the dining hall. Buffy recognized the other slayer instantly. Gabrielle had been called when she was only fifteen, and now at the age of twenty-five was one of her most experienced slayers.

When Gabrielle had arrived here two and a half years ago, Buffy had been worried about a recklessness that reminded her a bit too much of Faith. Gabrielle had simply given her a thin-lipped smile and stated, "The only way to win is to never have any fear." Buffy wasn't completely sure she agreed with that assessment, but she understood where the younger woman was coming from. And over the last couple of years, Gabby had proven herself out in the field on multiple occasions, including being one of the major players in the yearly apocalypses, fighting with an almost manic intensity. Buffy had never seen her need more than three strikes to take down a demon, no matter what kind it was.

As a result, Gabrielle was a role model for a number of the more junior slayers. But for all that many of the girls looked up to her, Buffy couldn't recall her ever being truly friendly with anyone. She wondered if it had something to do with the fact that Gabrielle was truly stunning. Tall, at 5' 10", a flawless olive complexion, a perfectly proportioned curvy body that was all muscle, long dark hair that she wore loose when she wasn't actively fighting, a heart shaped face with long lashes, and a full mouth. If her life had taken a different turn, she could have easily been a model instead of a seasoned warrior. Whether she meant to be or not, Gabrielle was intimidating.

Maybe all of that explained why Buffy had never seen her date anyone, male or female. While they were isolated, the older girls all managed to have at least occasional dates, even if most of them weren't involved in anything serious. True, Buffy kept her private life extremely private – she doubted anyone outside of her trusted circle knew she was currently in a relationship – but Gabrielle wouldn't have generated the kind of gossip Buffy did, and therefore, did not have the same need for secrecy. Then again, maybe the girl was just very good at covering her tracks. Buffy didn't know her that well, when it came down to it.

Which partly explained why she was so surprised when Gabrielle headed directly for Angel's table, and slid into a seat across from him.

She knew it was a bit rude, but curiosity kept her focused on the other girl. Her back was ramrod straight in the chair and Buffy could see her hands splayed on the table, palms pressed down. She didn't seem to have seen Buffy, but she really didn't seem to be looking at Angel either. Gabrielle's expression was a mixture of vulnerability and wariness, far removed from her usual cockiness. Buffy watched as Angel slowly leaned in. He was too far away for Buffy to know what he was saying, but she could see the tension slowly leave Gabrielle's body, her head slowly dropping until she was looking directly at Angel. Something akin to relief blossomed on the girl's face. She was speaking rapidly now, her hands stabbing the air. One hand shot out and clamped around Angel's wrist. Buffy couldn't stop herself from flinching, but Angel hadn't moved a muscle. Instead his other hand covered Gabrielle's. The slayer tossed her long black hair as the smooth column of her neck arched.

Buffy took two steps back and then turned and silently left the room.

—-

"Hey Will. What's the what?" Buffy waved her friend into her room, not paying full attention. Andrew had called earlier about some weird spotted demon, and she was examining the pages that Dawn had marked as possible matches.

"It's been four days." Willow's voice was school marm stern as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Four days who? This isn't some kind of weird math problem, is it? Cause I was never good at those."

"Angel. He's been here half a week already and you haven't said anything to him. Don't you think you should at least say hello?"

"I've been meaning to, but I've just been so busy" Buffy said, with what she hoped was the appropriate amount of contrition. "Did you forget I'm the head honcho? Or should that be honcha?" She yanked the book toward herself and tried to concentrate on the page before her. She didn't see why she needed to change her life around just because someone decided to reenact Guess Who's Coming to Dinner. Or was that The Man Who Came to Dinner? She hated when movies had similar names. How was she supposed to keep things straight? She snapped back to attention when she heard Willow's annoyed tone.

"You can't ignore him forever. You need to talk to him."

"And say what exactly? How nice of you to stop in after nine years of not even a text message?" Buffy's final words were spewed in an angry rush.

"You don't even know why he didn't keep in contact, or why he's here now."

"I know exactly why he's here, Will."

Willow simply tilted her head, one eyebrow raised.

Buffy sighed. "He's human now. He thinks he can waltz in here and we can pick up where we left off. But I'm not sixteen, and I'm long past cemetery smooching. Plus, Justin."

"The mysterious boyfriend."

"He's an optometrist. Unless we're talking binarth demons, glasses are not mysterious."

"I haven't met him. Ergo, man of mystery."

"You will. I promise. We haven't been together that long. We're still in the getting to know you phase."

Willow grinned. "You mean the wild monkey sex phase." Her grin got wider as Buffy turned crimson.

She stood up and started to leave. "Just talk to Angel and ask him why he's here. It might surprise you."

"Angel's a big boy. He's pushing 300, so a really big boy. If he needs something, I'm sure he can figure out how to ask for it."

Willow looked at her, obviously still unhappy. "Don't be so sure." And with that, she left.

Buffy sighed. On the list of things she wanted to deal with, this was way toward the bottom. She barely had time for herself as it was, she didn't need to spend it babysitting Angel and whatever his current poor, poor pitiful me story was. Besides, based on what she had seen earlier, it didn't seem like he needed anything from her at all.