Buffy could tell Anne had spent the entire night crying, the mixture of dark circles and red rims around the girl's eyes making that quite clear. She reached out and put her hand on her daughter's shoulder, massaging gently the tense muscles she felt there. "Are you sure you want to leave now, sweetie?" Buffy asked. "We can call the pilot and tell him we're staying longer."

Anne shook her head. "I just need to get out of here. Maybe if I go back to my life…" Her voice trailed off. How could her life ever be the same? She reached up, fingering the silver cross she still wore around her neck. She knew she should probably give it back to Connor, but she couldn't bring herself to. It would be a part of him she could keep with her…near her heart.

"If that's what you really want to do," Buffy replied. "But think about…"

"Anne!"

Anne turned sharply at the sound of Connor's voice, watching as he came down the stairs and towards her. Her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of him, and she tried to search his face for some sort of sign of what he wanted, but his expression was impassive.

"Can we talk for a moment?" Connor asked when he reached her.

Anne nodded and crossed her arms tightly over her chest to keep herself from touching him. "Okay."

"Alone. The office maybe?"

Anne glanced towards her mother who nodded. "Go on."

Anne swallowed hard as she went with Connor to the office, and she shook a little as he shut the door behind them.

"Don't go."

Anne's jaw dropped a little, that not being quite what she'd expected. "Connor…"

"Not without me anyway," he added. "I mean, you're sixteen, so it's probably better we're in London instead of Los Angeles as far as that goes, but... Just…don't leave me."

Anne felt tears forming in her eyes again, although these were different from the ones she had been shedding. "You really mean that? You want to be with me?"

"Yes," Connor replied. He reached out and took her hands in his. "I love you, Anne. You're…god, you're amazing. You shook my whole world with just your smile."

"But…but how can we do this, Connor?" Anne asked, her hands trembling. "There's so much, and…"

"It doesn't matter," Connor said. "None of it matters. Hell itself couldn't keep us apart—I seriously doubt either an age difference or my soon-to-be-ex wife can."

"This…this is real?" Anne asked softly.

"Yeah, Annie. This is real. We're real."

Anne's voice was small, seeking reassurance, when she spoke again. "Are we?"

"We are."

Anne looked up at him, searching for the right words to say before she blurted out, "Isn't this the part where you're supposed to kiss me?"

A wide grin spread across Connor's face. "I think it is."

And he kissed her.

*** *** ***