And then she was there, right in front of Anya and seeing Buffy again like that felt like a punch to the heart. Because she was there and she was alive and looking just the way Anya remembered, with a sword at her side, as defiant as she'd ever been.
"Buffy..." a small smile, a rare expression on her face these days, appeared. "It's been too long."
Well for her anyway.
"There's not really a simple way to explain this," she began, almost hesitant, which was simply beyond strange. She'd been one of the rebellion leaders for twenty years, was so much older than the girl in front of her and yet felt almost the need to follow the lead of the Slayer.
Taking a deep breath, she dropped the glamor hiding her true appearance. It had been years since she'd seen her true face and briefly she wondered how much it looked like the Anya Buffy would remember. The burns, courtesy of Amy Madison's magic, down the right side of her face and chest may have been as much of a disguise as the glamor, but Anya hoped, prayed even that Buffy would still recognize her.
"We," she glanced at Lauren next to her before looking back at Buffy. "Are here from the future. And we're here to save the world."