"Are you okay?" Riley stood up from the bed when Buffy did. He was still wary about her health. If it was up to him, which it absolutely was not, he'd have already taken Buffy to the hospital to figure out what exactly was wrong with her.

"Riley!" She was frustrated with the repeating question from him. She felt fine. She was sure it was just a cold or maybe a simple upsetting of the nerves. "I'll be fine. I feel fine. It's just something I probably ate, that's all." Buffy stepped out of the room and down the hall, her socks padding her feet.

"Buffy?" Angel's concern was highly evident when she had reached the bottom of the stairs. He could have gone to the mansion, where him, Wesley and Cordelia were planned to stay, but he decided to see for himself that she was okay.

To Buffy, it was the last thing and person she wanted in her living room. Giles and Willow, of whom she could hear down the hall, were discussing ways of research approach in the kitchen while boiling water for coffee and tea. Looking around the room, Buffy found a pair of her old white tennis shoes. She walked over to the front for the door, braced a hand on the wall, and slipped them on, tying the laces.

Angel simply stood there, he was obviously gathering that she was going out, but his guy told him she wanted breathing room, space. Space from him. All his thoughts were corrupted by the sudden entrance of Riley What's- his-name. Not only was he not welcome by strong degree by Buffy, but she would be one hundred and ten percent, and more, with foce included, in him leaving.

"Where are you going?" Riley asked, just about ready to grab his coat off of the banaster's end.

"Out." She slipped into a zip down, hooded sweat shirt.

"I'll go with you." Riley started donning his own jacket.

"No," Buffy said sharply, but gently. She gave him little, but some, sympathy through her eyes and small smile. "I need to talk to Angel. I went to discuss some things with him." She ignored Angel and Riley's shock and walked out of the front door, leaving it wide open as further invitation for Angel.

"You still got it, " Buffy said with a shake of the head as she head Angel approach five minutes later. She was now crouched under a tree, waiting him out. Buffy hadn't let him find her. Before, when Angel was in Sunnydale as a resident, she could feel him near, watching her. It usually wasn't until she called him on it, when she felt like it, or when she needed back-up that she'd see him.

Angel walked at his regular pace as he exited the shadows and stood in front of her, casting his own on her small, balled, form. Buffy suddenly gathered an image or dark overpowering light in all metaphorical ways when she watched him.

"You're easy." It wasn't a comment on her sexual drives or maintence requirments, but his lack of challenge to find her. Both of them knew that she understood that it wasn't because she stunk at hiding but that e was a homing becon and she was home. Blood ruled over instinct. That's what made Buffy suddenly restless.

Deciding to leave that one be, Buffy stood up and began to walk, no destination in mind, only a way to keep herself busy. Angel fell into step with her and kept his head down or straight, recognizing that she needed to start this, her territory, her grounds, her pace.

"So, do you have any idea how long this...demon has been at work here in Sunnydale?" She doubled the answer would be positive, but she needed to start somewhere.

"No. Most likely, recently. But that's just going on a hunch." He had more, but didn't wnt to push. Hell, he thought, they were both the last an each other's company list.

"Thought so," Buffy let out with a huff of breath. Then she shoved away the awkward feeling of being around him again and the nerves it created within her and stopped and whirled around to him. " Listen. Angel, I know we are making ourselves sick right now, being like this," Buffy gestured toward him. "You there," she pointed a finger towards him, "Me here." A finger pointed to her shoes. She cought the recognition in Angel's features and went on, slightly relieved that she wasn't alone. "But," she continued, "the truth is that if you and everyone else that was with you in L.A. need to be here for this, then it's proof that you I need to work together. You can't stay at the mansion." With a subconscience shake of the head she turned around and started to walk again.

Angel was immediately caught off gaurd by her last comment. And confussed. After catching up to her, Angel grabbed her wrist while saying, "What?" But Angel missed explanation when he caught her pulse under his hand. It had changed. Quickened. It was stronger, yes, but abnormal.

To Be Continued

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