"Buffy" he replied, winning comeback if ever he'd heard one but then he usually got more stoic than usual around the Slayer. Buffy was here. He'd known that. But for her to be the first one he saw. Irony was a wonderful thing sometimes. He'd always believed so.
Buffy for her part was staring at him like some kind of ghost. Which made sense since in this world he'd been told he was dust. Or a version of him. Or something. He didn't understand much of it beyond this was Buffy and he was hurting her just by being here. Again.
"I'm not dead...well...y'know. Dust. You heard I was dead. I'm not the same Angel, The Powers explained it, then got into an arguement about dramatic twists."
She'd taken one step toward him, so he took the logical course of a step toward her.