"Buffy. What's going on?" Angel seemed genuinely confused and upset, but Buffy knew better than to let her guard down. This could be another trick of his, another ploy to use Buffy's weakness against her. Angelus knew how much she loved Angel and he would most definitely take on the persona of his souled counterpart if that meant surviving long enough to awaken the demon Acathla.

She watched as his eyes darted around the unfamiliar mansion which Angelus had claimed for his own. Not even that soulless bastard could fake this level of confusion, could he?. Angel pulled himself off the ground and Buffy gripped her sword even tighter, ready to strike if need be. Tears filled his eyes as he struggled to make scenes of the situation. "Where are we? I don't remember."

After hearing the all too real anguish in his voice, Buffy found herself slowly lowering her weapon. Willow must've completed the Ritual of Restoration...It was the only logical explanation. It felt like a dream come true: Buffy had waited on this moment every day since losing him, yet it always seemed like such an impossible task. "Angel?" She couldn't believe this was really happening. He reached out and gingerly touched the open wound on her arm. "You're hurt." He said. But she couldn't feel any psychical pain at the moment. All she could feel was an overwhelming sense of relief and happiness. She stepped into his arms and he held her firmly against his chest. "Gosh." She cried tears of happiness. "I've missed you so much. Willow did a spell....a spell to bring you back." She lifted her head off his shoulder and looked into his eyes. "We're gonna be okay now. You're back and that's all that matters." She had managed to save the world and stop Angelus from awaking Acathla. Everything was right in the world once again.

"Bus 104 now arriving at the Los Angeles Greyhound." The pre-recorded message boomed from a staticky intercome as the bus reached its final destination. All the commotion and chatter woke the slayer from her slumbers, but she didn't move just yet. Instead, she kept her eyes closed and her forehead pressed against the cold window. It had been such a vivid dream, and for a moment, she was happy again. She often dreamt about Angel surviving that night, which made it all the more painful to wake up and remember what actually happened. The ritual had worked, but she was still too late. In the end, Buffy had to put a sword through Angel's heart in order to save the world. He was gone and nothing would ever bring him back.

"Hey, lady! Time to get off the bus." a gruff voice startled her into finally looking up. Standing before her was the middle-aged bus driver who brought her to LA. "I gotta get ready for my next trip, so please leave." The exhausted and somewhat groggy slayer stood up, grabbed her bag, and walked off the bus. It was night, but the bus depot was still packed full of people. Buffy needed to get away from them as soon as possible—being around strangers seemed so damn dreadful these days. She sometimes wished that she could make everyone disappear.

She had hardly made it five footsteps when a wannabe gangster who fancied himself a pimp approached her. "Hey, sweetheart. A girl like you shouldn't be all alone in a city like this. Let me help you." The old Buffy might've turned around and knocked his teeth out, but this new and not-so-improved Buffy she just kept her head down and continued walking. Thankfully, the pimp left her alone.

She walked for what felt like hours that night. Listening to the blend of car horns and drunken shouts. It wasn't the best part of L.A but she could take care of herself just fine. Before arriving here, she had been in Seattle, Washington. That city only lasted a few weeks because it wasn't long before vampires got wind of her presence in their city. Buffy had made the mistake of saving a teenage girl from a gang of vampires. By the next night, news of her arrival was buzzing within the supernatural community. So, she packed up and boarded a bus to Los Angeles. She just didn't feel like being the slayer anymore—she wanted to be unknown and unbothered.

Shortly after midnight, she happened upon a 24-hour dinner called Helen's Kitchen. There was a wanted sign hanging in the window and it immediately caught Buffy's attention. She was quickly running out of money and might find herself living on the streets if she didn't get a job asap. She pulled back the door and was greeted by the overwhelming stench of old fry grease. Two scary-looking truckers looked up from their food and eyed Buffy like she was water to a man lost in the desert. Ignoring them, she walked up to the counter and took a seat at the far end. A plump waitress placed a cup in front of her, then filled it with coffee. "You look like you need this, darling." She wasn't entirely wrong. Buffy offered up a small smile as she pulled the cup towards her. "Thank you."

"You're clearly not a walker and you're not homeless by the looks of you, so why are you wandering around these parts so late at night?" Buffy shrugged as she allowed the hot steam to warm her face. "I wanted to get lost, I suppose. I actually came in because I saw the wanted sign in the window." The waitress, who's tag read Doloris, raised a brow as she studied Buffy's face. "You a runaway?" She asked. Buffy looked up at her. "Does it matter?" Doloris chuckled, seemingly amused by the tiny blonde sitting before her. "I'm fixing to quit this place next week. Boss needs a new waitress to take my place and it's my job to hire one. What qualifies you for the job?"

"You'd be surprised at how well I can write down a simple order and even balance trays of food." The slayer retorted.

Buffy could tell by how Doloris looked at her, that she felt sorry for her. "Attitude like that ain't gonna get you far, kid. But what do I know? I've worked in joints like these since the late '80s" She replied. "What's your name, anyway?" Buffy paused, trying to think of any name other than her own. "Anne." She said.