Buffy wanted to faint. Or more appropriately, she wanted to turn around and run. Run out of the building, down the street, across the freakin country, to Iowa. To that stupid farm where even if she was unhappy, she was at least safe. From occurrences like this. From moments like this.

  "Angel,"she acknowledged with a cool smile, her outer appearance revealing nothing of the turmoil raging inside. He was not so fortunate.

  His flesh was ashen at the sight of her, his eyes wide, bewildered and then, finally, just surprised. "Buffy," he answered, coming forward to shake hands with her. The touch of his fingers sent a shock-wave directly to her heart and she gasped slightly, removing her hand from his.

  "I didn't know..." she steadied herself. "I wasn't aware you were in photography now. Especially fashion."

  He grimaced, "Well I'm not exactly. I mean, you know I was into drawing, and photography seemed to speak to me as well once I tried it.  I do editorial work under the name of Valenti- I don't know if you've heard--"

  "Of course I have," she responded, shocked. "Valenti is famous for his magazine layouts. You did that Gwyneth Paltrow cover for Vanity Fair didn't you?"

  He nodded absently, his eyes sweeping over her, from the top of her perfectly smooth ice blonde head to her clear skin, her white teeth, pale pink lips, sleek white coat covering her slender figure and black leather boots encasing tiny feet. "You look...well Buffy," he said awkwardly and she blushed, looking him over as well.

  "You to," she replied, and then said, "So...I mean, what happened to Angel Investigations?"

  He coloured slightly, and said, "After well...after I became human there wasn't any way for it to go on."

  The world tilted on its axis as she stared at him, the shock of his announcement reeling through her. "H--Human? WHAT?"

  "I...I received my Shanshu after the End of Days..." he informed her uncertainly and she felt about three million emotions all at once.

  "That's...amazing," she congratulated him. "Really."

  He nodded. "Thank you. How's..." he cleared his throat, "Riley?"

  Buffy swallowed, smiling wryly, "Riley? Oh, he's fine. Happily married. To a girl named Molly."

  "What?" Angel asked, shocked, "I thought you two were--"

  "We were. But we divorced, long story."

  Angel simply stared at her and she felt a burning ache go through her belly. This was completely unreal. Completely totally unreal. She couldn't deal with this, and more importantly, she didn't want to deal with this. Couldn't the past stay past? Couldn't the dead stay dead?

  "Buffy!"

  She started in surprise at the familiar baritone outside the door and called, "In here Calvin."

  The designer opened the door, harried, he raked a hand through his steel-gray hair and looked at her. "Thank God, Buffy, you're here."

  She smiled soothingly, going through all the motions of normal life, although at that moment she felt closer to dead. "Problems?"

  He winced and handed her a file. "Only that Annie called. She refuses to work with Kate again. Handle it, please. Get her off my case."

  "Annie refuses to work with someone? Must be bad. But I'm on it. Oh, and Anna from Vogue wants to do a cover story on the Spring Ready to Wear...thought I'd check with you first."

  Calvin nodded, looking slightly less badgered as he always did once Buffy talked to him, "Yes of course. Oh, call Elle today will you? Give them a statement about the Fall RTW?"

  "Already have," she answered, and he smiled, nodded and left the room, but not before kissing Gisele enthusiastically and enquiring after her baby.

  "Friendly," Angel mused and Buffy looked at him. He was so out of place here. She suddenly felt so out of place. Shouldn't they be in California? At the Bronze...or at the cemetery, kissing, staking vampires...not here...discussing fashion of all things.

  "Only with supermodels," she explained to him. "Calvin's selective. Anyway, you guys better get to work." Trying to dismiss him, she turned to Gisele who had been getting her hair and make-up done as a wardrobe woman fretted about the extra weight on her stomach.

  "Leave her alone," Buffy laughed, "It's pregnancy flab. Besides Mr. Klein wants a lusher look."

  As she started to leave Angel reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward him, into a shadowed corner. Breathing fast, Buffy stared up at him, their eyes clashing. "What's happened to you?"

  "What do you mean?" she panted, and his eyes smoldered suddenly, as he gripped her arm tighter.

  "Where's the Buffy I used to know?" he asked, and she laughed harshly.

  "She's 29 now Angel, and she's got a new life, okay? She doesn't want to open up old wounds...besides what about you? Suddenly living in New York. A fashion photographer? Hello, can we say 'Alternate Universe?"

  He half smiled, and suddenly it was as if she was sixteen again, back to the first time she realized she was falling in love with him, standing in her kitchen as she bandaged his wound, staring up at him, as he smiled down at her, following her every move with his impenetrable eyes. Feeling a little dizzy, Buffy realized she could smell him, that scent that was uniquely Angel, the musk of his cologne, sweet light sweat and something else...something wild, forbidden...completely delicious. Swaying slightly toward him, she felt the heat of his body, looked up, caught a passion lurking in his eyes and then abruptly pulled away.

  "I...I have to go..." she burst out, angry at herself for letting him get to her. "Go do work. Important work. Work that needs to be done. Okay...I WILL stop babbling now...I will," she continued and realized that he was looking at her, really looking at her, through the ice wall surrounding her heart and flesh, to her very core, her essence. Like only he had ever been able to do. He could SEE her. It was evident in his gaze. And suddenly Buffy felt very afraid.

  Spinning on her heel she left the room, practically sprinting to the elevator and slamming into her office four floors up with a scowl.       Pressing play on the stereo that rested on her desk she sunk down into her plush leather chair, felt the tears course down her cheeks even as the melody filled the room...

Bye, bye love
   bye, bye happiness
   Hello, Loneliness
   I think I'm gonna cry

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