For the longest time Anya finds herself pacing in front of the mural that had been erected on a lone wall opposite the building. It hadn't taken much to figure out that the tea shop - Celsius Tear, by the name on the sign - was located on the second floor of the Welcome Center. Which, okay, she had poked in once or twice after arriving out of curiosity, peered at the large maps inside, mostly disappointed with how limited the entire place was.

Eventually she decides that pacing won't get her anywhere - in fact, it only would attract strange looks, and the last thing she needed was one of these goody-goody strangers to poke their head in her business and for her to decide whether or not the mess of a situation was worth explaining or complaining about to them.

Maybe Buffy wasn't even there.

She stops her pacing, taking a few uneasy breaths. Just what was this meeting supposed to do, anyway? One step, two. Eventually she reaches the top, scowling at the door for a few moments before pushing it open.

And there she was. Wonderful. And now Anya was here, framed in the doorway, bright colored halter in contrast to her still dark hair. Not as dark as she had worn it while possessed, but enough. She lets the door close behind her and stands, with her arms folded across her chest.