destructo-girl.com

"Home Before Dark "

Author: Deb Nockels
Email: Debnockels@aol.com
Disclaimer: Lyrics below are from the Broadway play Into The Woods by Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine.
Notes: I decided to ignore that silly business with the demon ghost thingy that Buffy brought back with her, because as far as I can see there's no significance to it. So that whole day and night just didn't happen. When Buffy wakes up the next morning, it will be to see Dawn off to school, as per the episode "After Life."
Dedication: To Anja, my beta-reader, because she always has a word of encouragement as well as help. You're the greatest!

2 (PG or R)

"Thanks, guys, that was a *very* timely rescue. But how did you know?" asked Angel as they walked toward his car. He looked up at the night sky, relishing the fresh breeze against his face. "I am so glad to be out of that place! It might as well be a prison."

"It was Fred who figured it out," Wesley supplied. Angel fished the keys out of his pocket. As he unlocked the driver's door, he said, "Thank you, Fred. So how *did* you know something was wrong?"

Fred blushed. "Well, I was kind of confused when I saw you drinking a martini and, and then you called me sweetheart and said I was beautiful and asked me to go out on the town with you, but I figured hey, you were just, just lonely and needing to talk. But then when I came back downstairs and saw you on the desk with that woman and you were kissing her - " She snorted. "Well, it was obvious! I knew something was wrong because *you* wouldn't be kissing a woman who wasn't Buffy!"

Angel's face during all this was a study in growing consternation, but when Fred talked about finding him on the desk his jaw dropped. Gunn snickered. Cordy also chuckled, and Wesley hid a smile.

"Desk?" Angel said weakly. "Woman? Kissing?" With each word his voice rose higher.

"Big time kissing," Fred confirmed. "And your hands were pretty busy too. I mean, not *your* hands of course - " She stopped, frowning a little. "Actually, they *were* your hands, weren't they?"

She laughed uneasily, then at the look on his face added in a hurry, "But you weren't the one controlling them, so that's okay. Anyway, you could have been under some kind of spell, of course, but then I found the books on vampires all open like you'd been reading up on it, like you hadn't known about vampires, and Wes remembered that the cases we'd been investigating had all acted weird before they died - totally unlike themselves - so we all figured that whatever had taken over their bodies had gotten yours too. And Cordy remembered you'd gone to the retirement home by yourself so we went there. Then when we saw him going in we followed him and overheard the confrontation between the two of you and were able to stop him from killing you and keeping your immortal body." She gave him a happy smile, bouncing a little on her toes.

"What - " Angel stopped. Wetting his lips and swallowing, he started again. "What about the woman? Who was she?"

Fred shrugged. "I couldn't see her face. She had dark hair, that's all I know."

"What happened to her?" Angel's voice was tense. Wesley glanced at him curiously.

Another shrug from Fred, accompanied by a shake of the head. "I don't know. I went back upstairs to call Wesley. When I came down a few minutes later, you were leaving - I mean, *he* was leaving - and there was no one in the office when I went in. She must have left before he did."

"There wasn't any - you didn't see - " Angel shut his eyes briefly, then opened them again. "Fred, was there any blood?"

Cordelia's eyes grew wide. Wesley exclaimed softly, "Oh my God." Fred lonly ooked puzzled. "Blood? Why would there be blood?"

"You didn't see any blood in the office?" peristed Angel.

"No, of course not." Fred looked at Wesley and Cordelia, then at Gunn, who also appeared disturbed. "What's wrong?"

"Or any signs of ... violence?" Angel's hand was clenched on the roof of the car, his expression that of someone expecting to hear the worst.

Fred still didn't understand why everyone seemed so worried. "Well, there were papers scattered everywhere, but I figured they just got knocked off the desk when they - you know, hopped onto it." She rubbed her arms nervously. "I don't understand. Why do you think there might be blood? Whoever the woman was, she wasn't exactly trying to fight him off, you know. He wouldn't have any reason to get violent with her."

Angel's face had a frozen look on it. "The demon was still in my body. Something made Marcus discover it. I'm guessing he instinctively vamped out, and that only happens because the vampire is experiencing a sudden surge of emotion, like hunger or rage - or lust. If it happened while he was with that woman - " He didn't finish.

"Oh." Understanding at last, Fred bit her lip. "I didn't hear anything. Wouldn't she have screamed or ... or something?"

Wesley put his hand on Angel's arm. "Angel, we'll go back and check, certainly. But there's no reason to think anything at all happened to this woman. You heard Fred - she didn't see any blood and didn't hear any kind of a struggle."

Angel said tightly, "There wouldn't necessarily be a lot of blood. Fred might not have noticed it."

"Fledglings are always messy," Wesley said firmly. "You know that. And regardless that he was in your body, Marcus was a fledgling when it came to being a vampire. For that matter, we don't even know that's how he found out about it - he could very well have simply passed in front of a mirror and seen that he had no reflection. Or tried to go out in the sunlight. But there's only one thing that will ease your mind, so let's get back to the office and see what we find."

Angel's dark expression lightened a trifle. "Yeah. Let's go." He slid behind the wheel as Cordelia and Wesley scrambled inside. Fred elected to go with Gunn in his truck.

"What did you find when you got there?" Buffy was pretty sure she knew already, because otherwise Angel wouldn't be so calm about it. Not that he hadn't been affected by the whole experience, because it was obvious that he had, but he wasn't in his dark, tortured mode. It was Friday night and for the time being they were alone in the house, although Willow and Tara were due back soon, with Dawn. Giles was at the Magic Box doing heaven knew what - probably annoying Anya among other things - and Xander of course was also there, with Anya.

"There were no traces of blood," Angel told her. "Not in the office and not anywhere in the lobby. I even checked all around the perimeter of the building. So either he didn't attack this woman or the wound was so slight she got away without any significant bleeding."

"That's good."

"Yes."

Amazing how one little word could be infused with so much emotion. Buffy studied Angel's face. Even though the light in her living room was bright there was a shadow in his eyes, never mind that the events he'd just told her about had happened several days ago and had ended well. She didn't have to look far to guess the reason for that shadow. She put her hand over his. "It came a little too close to home, didn't it?"

"Not just too close. It *is* home - for me," Angel said. His hand balled into a fist under hers. "It's what I live with every single day - knowing that my body was used by someone else to do terrible, evil things without my knowledge or consent."

"Marcus isn't Angelus," she reminded him, "and he didn't do anything terrible while he was in your body."

He gave her a somber look. "That we know of. You didn't hear him mocking me with what a poor excuse for a vampire I am." He mimicked Marcus' words. " 'Vampires don't *help* people, you moron, they kill them!' And there's about an hour between when he left the hotel and when he showed up at the rest home that's unaccounted for. I don't know what he did during that time."

A wry smile crossed his lips. "When the Romany first cursed me, I used to pray for hours on my knees that the demon's memories would go away. It's kind of ironic to realize now that not knowing can be even worse."

Buffy stroked his arm consolingly. "Angel, he couldn't have done anything too awful or there would have been something in the media about it. Right? I mean, it was only an hour, less if you count travel time. It's not like he had time to attack someone and then go bury the body, assuming the person was dead, or even find a good hiding place for it, for that matter. Plus it doesn't sound to me like he'd bother doing either of those things anyway. He was so cocky, he'd have let the body lie where it was. And that *would* have been on the news."

"That's what everyone's been telling me, and what I keep telling myself," Angel sighed. "And it makes sense, I have to agree. But I can't be one hundred percent positive, and I think the uncertainty will stay with me for a long time. But enough about me." Determinedly he shook off his low spirits and slid an arm around her shoulders. "I don't think we've really said hello to each other, have we? You were on the phone when I got here."

"Mm-hm," Buffy assented. "And then we started talking - "

' - about me," Angel cut in, "so like I said, enough of that. Hi." He smiled.

She smiled too. "Hi." They came together in a kiss, drew back to look at one another, then kissed again. Angel pulled her onto his lap, cradling her in his strong arms. She wound her arms around his neck and for a few heavenly moments forgot about her worries and cares. It was enough to have Angel there with her and to be in his embrace, to feel the tender pressure of his lips and the gentle caress of his tongue, the press of his hands on her back. Outside, a lone figure watched them through the front window, standing very still, then walked away unseen by anyone.

When Buffy finally dropped her head to Angel's shoulder, she felt at peace. "It's so good to be with you," she breathed. "Just having you here makes everything seem better."

"I know," he murmured. "When we're together like this it doesn't feel like anything could ever go wrong." They both chuckled, ruefully.

"Wouldn't *that* be nice?" remarked Buffy, with a sigh. "We could have our own little Buffy and Angel universe, where bodies don't get switched and demons don't wreck the house."

Angel glanced at the broken pictures on the wall. "Is that what happened? I could tell that you'd had some excitement around here."

Buffy gave a short laugh. "I guess you could call it that. That M'Fashnik demon I told you about found its way here. I guess it was upset with me for trying to spoil his little bank caper. Anyway, it broke the coffee table and Mom's heirloom vase and a bunch of other things before Spike and I were able to force it into the basement, where I finished it off. He tore off a piece of my brand-new copper piping too!" Remembering, she scowled.

Angel's attention had been caught before she finished. "What was Spike doing here?"

"Who knows?" She shrugged. "I went out on the back porch and there he was, smoking and throwing the disgusting butts everywhere."

"Has he been bothering you?" he demanded, eyes narrowed.

"No," Buffy denied. "I've run into him once or twice while patrolling, we talked a bit and that was that. For a soulless demon he's really easy to talk to." She ended on a note of surprise.

"Just don't forget that he *is* a demon," Angel reminded her. "He may be neutered at the moment so he can't physically hurt anyone, but that doesn't mean he can't do harm indirectly. Didn't you tell me he allied himself with that Adam monster last year?"

"I haven't forgotten that," Buffy assured him. "I know that his chip doesn't equal a soul or even a conscience - but it's not that simple, Angel. He was a tremendous help last spring when Glory was after Dawn. He protected Dawn and even when Glory tortured him he didn't betray her whereabouts. I can't exactly spit in his face and treat him like dirt, after that."

"I suppose not," Angel admitted, unwillingly. "But I still don't trust him, and you shouldn't either. If that chip in his head ever gets removed he'll revert to his true self in a second."

She smiled. "You sound like Giles. He gave me the same lecture the other morning, after we went over the bills." Involuntarily she sighed.

"How is your financial situation?" Angel was concerned. She'd already told him that most of Joyce's insurance money had gone to pay her hospital bills, and that she'd had to have a complete copper repipe job done in the basement, which he knew didn't come cheap.

"Well, we're not completely broke," she answered, with another sigh, "but I need to get a job soon or we will be. There's enough to pay the mortgage and groceries for a couple more months, but after that - " She gave a slight shrug.

Angel frowned. That just wasn't right. "Can't the Council do anything to help? You are their Slayer, after all. It seems to me they'd want you to be able to focus on *that* job instead of worrying about bills."

Buffy's upward glance was baleful. "The Council doesn't know I'm back - and that's the way I want to keep it. If they knew I'd been resurrected with magic they'd probably want to put me under a microscope, make sure I hadn't come back damaged in some way."

Angel made a noncommital sound, mentally resolving to take the matter up with Giles in private. Between them they ought to be able to come up with a way to alleviate Buffy's money problems. Out loud he said, changing the subject, "How have you been otherwise? Have you had any more dreams?"

"No," Buffy replied with visible patience. "I told you I'd let you know if I did, remember? You don't need to keep asking me that every time we talk."

"Sorry," he said hastily. "I didn't mean to nag. I just worry that you're not getting enough rest, that's all." Of course that wasn't the real reason - or not all of it, at least - but he couldn't very well tell her he was worried that she might dream about That Day again. That would only draw her attention to it, which had to be avoided.

He still hadn't figured out how it had happened in the first place, unless she'd somehow managed to tap into his memories while they both slept. That seemed a logical explanation since her first dream that night, the one about his epiphany, had also portrayed actual events and certainly could have been pulled out of his subconscious or unconscious or whatever. God knew *he* dreamed often enough about the day the Oracles had erased that the memory was never very far below his conscious mind. What really concerned him was that the dream might trigger an actual memory - though that would also seem to be impossible - and he didn't think she was strong enough to bear that burden; not now, with all the stress she was under.

And then, of course, there was her second dream, which was loosely based on reality - the night he'd come to Sunnydale after Joyce's funeral - but had then gone on to present an alternate scenario of events. That didn't quite fit in with the "tapping into his subconscious" theory.

"You're deep in thought," Buffy remarked. "Something wrong?"

Angel came back from his reverie with a start. "Sorry. No, everything's fine." He sutudied her face. "You look more rested; have you been sleeping better?"

"A little bit. I'm not waking up as often during the night, and when I do it's easier to get back to sleep again." She smiled coyly at him and ran a finger over his lips. "I have a feeling I'll sleep really well tonight."

"Vixen." But he smiled as he said it, and bent his head to kiss her again. They were still at it when the front door opened and Willow, Tara, and Dawn trouped in, chattering about the movie they'd just seen. Although they instantly drew apart, Dawn spied them before Buffy could slide off Angel's lap. She cast her eyes upward. "Good example to be setting your little sister - making out on the couch with the lights on and the curtains open so the entire neighborhood can watch."

Angel looked abashed, but Buffy just smiled. "Better than closing them first like we had something to hide," she remarked, standing up. "How was the movie?"

"Great!" the three girls exclaimed, practically in the same breath. Exchanging glances, they laughed. "I love the 'Harry Potter' books," Dawn enthused, "and now I love the movie and I can't wait for the next one to come out!" She walked toward Angel, who had also risen. "Hi, Angel."

Angel smiled at her. "Is that all I get - 'Hi, Angel'?" Dawn smiled too and stepped forward to give him a big hug, which he heartily reciprocated. "I've missed you," she whispered. "I've missed you too," he replied. Standing back he held her at arms' length and gave her a once-over from head to toe. "I swear, every time I see you, you've grown another inch."

Dawn smirked. "I'm already taller than Buffy." She gave her sister a teasing, sidelong look.

Buffy only lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah, yeah, gloat all you want. Don't forget I can still kick your ass if I have to."

Playfully, Dawn stuck out her tongue. "Only because you're the Slayer. Otherwise you'd be outta luck."

Willow intervened at that point. "Be nice, children. Buffy, I have some news for you." Buffy looked expectant. "I've taken a part-time job. Starting Monday I'm Dr. Lannegan's TA. She, um, replaced Dr. Walsh." She looked apologetic at having to mention the name of the woman responsible for the Initiative's actions the year before.

"Oh." Surprised, Buffy groped for words. "Well ... that's good. I guess. Why do you want a job, Will?"

"I'm getting one too," Tara put in.

"And me," contributed Dawn. "I'm going to shelve library books after school for minimum wage."

"What?" Buffy looked from one to the other, at a los. "What's this all about? Why the sudden urge for gainful employment?" She pointed her finger at Dawn. "*You* can forget about it, young lady. Your schoolwork is more important than earning money."

"It's only an hour a day," Dawn countered, crossing her arms in front of her. "Ninety minutes tops. And I promise I'll start my homework as soon as I get home."

Tara interrupted. "Buffy, Willow and I have been living here for months without contributing toward expenses. If we're going to continue living here, that's got to change. We're not going to sponge off you anymore."

Astonished, Buffy said, "You've never sponged and you know it."

Willow stepped forward. "Okay, we bought a few groceries and took Dawn out to dinner or a movie once in a while, so maybe we weren't total leeches. But if we stay here with you, if this is to be our home too, we have to share the responsibility - and I don't mean just staying with Dawn while you're out patrolling. I mean contributing toward the household expenses."

Buffy felt the tears rising. "I don't ... don't know what to say," she faltered. Angel was still standing with his arm around Dawn. " 'Thank you' would be a good place to start," he suggested quietly. "You have good friends." He looked down at Dawn and planted a kiss on the top of her head. "And a good sister." Dawn beamed up at him.

Buffy went over to Willow. "Thank you so much. I ... I never expected this." The girls hugged, both of them with wet eyes, then Buffy turned to Tara and gave her a hug too. Finally she walked over to Dawn. "Thank you, Dawnie. I appreciate your wanting to help. But if your grades start to drop even a little bit - "

Dawn held up her hand. "I know, I know. They won't, I promise." The sisters shared a long embrace.

"Well, I'd say this calls for a celebration," Angel declared. "How about we go to the ice cream parlor - my treat?" Agreement was unanimous, and enthusiastic.

"I've had it!" Glaring at Spike, Buffy grabbed her jacket from the chair she'd placed it on and stalked out of the back room of the bar. It had been a long, long day. A long week, actually; one that began with her attempt to audit some classes at UC Sunnydale (which wasn't going well even before time began going all warp speed on her), then went on to the Incredible Disappearing Demons that wrecked a construction site (and her job along with it) before proceeding to today's equally disastrous afternoon spent working at the Magic Box. But this - this was the absolute end!

Spike cast one longing glance at the kittens she'd freed, most of which were under various pieces of furniture hiding from the demons trying to grab them, then followed her into the front room. "What's wrong, luv?"

"What's *wrong*?" she repeated. "Oh, nothing, except this was the perfect sucky conclusion to a sucky day - no, make that a sucky week! You were supposed to help me! You were going to ... beat heads and, and fix my life. But you're completely lame. And just look at me! Look at Stupid Buffy!" Angrily she thrust an arm into the jacket. "Too dumb for college, and, and, and Freak Buffy - too strong for construction work."

The jacket was pulled up over her shoulders. "And my job at the Magic Box? I was bored to tears even *before* the hour that wouldn't end! Then instead of helping Giles research whatever turned my afternoon into a 'Groundhog Day' clone, I chose to go check out seedy bars with a ... a neutered vampire who cheats at kitten poker. The only smart thing I did was not join you in your whiskey-guzzling."

Spike looked embarrassed. "Oh, you saw the cheating, did you?"

"Also? I think you're drunk!" Buffy whirled around and stormed outside. Spike looked after her with an expression of frustration. After a moment he threw up his hands in exasperation and went after her. "Whoa!" He stopped barely in time to avoid running into her. "Thought you were leaving."

Buffy was standing in the street, arms crossed, staring at something down the road. "That van."

Spike followed her gaze to a black van parked at the sidewalk. He looked at Buffy. "You wanna steal a van, I'm with you, luv, but we have got the motorcycle, remember?" He gestured behind them.

Buffy shook her head, eyes still focused on the van. "I've seen it before - at the construction site the other day, right after those demons attacked and just before I got fired because no one but me *saw* the demons because I killed them too fast." She took a couple of steps. Spike frowned as he studied the vehicle, trying to remember if he'd noticed it around before. Suddenly a large demon jumped into view from behind it, making a growling noise at them. It was tall, with red skin, curved horns and wings, and was clothed in only a white loincloth.

Spike examined it curiously. What the hell kind of demon was *that*? It was nothing he'd ever seen before. The demon's mouth opened and he prepared to grab Buffy and run if started spouting flame or something equally destructive. Instead -

"Rrrarr!" The roar was definitely less than impressive, Spike thought critically; kind of puny, in fact. "You have discovered me!" The demon put its hands on its hips in a would-be swaggering pose. To Spike's mind it looked more like a kid playing at being a swashbuckling pirate.

"But do not try to defeat me," the demon went on, "for I have been testing you and I know your weaknesses. Ha ha ha!" The van's engine suddenly started up, surprising the demon. It looked over as the vehicle drove off, turning the corner with a squeal of tires. The demon hesitated, as if considering whether to go after it, then turned its attention back to them just as Buffy attacked. With a loud gasp it ducked away barely in time to avoid her fist, but her second blow landed - a kick square in its groin.

It doubled over in pain, whimpering. "Ooh! Ohhh!"

"Who are you?" Buffy demanded, grabbing the demon by one arm. "Why are you messing with my life?" She shook it. Spike came closer, just in case she should need assistance.

"I am well struck!" the demon gasped in a quavering voice. "Ooh, ow! I call on the ... misty portal to my demon dimension ... where I will lay my head and gently ... die." On the last words its voice broke again and it threw something to the ground.

A shower of sparks exploded upward, followed by a cloud of heavy, dark smoke. Buffy got the brunt of it. Spike, not as close and also not being someone who breathed, escaped the worst but still his eyes stung from the acrid fumes. Not so much, however, that he didn't spy the demon making its getaway at an awkward, hunched-over run. Grabbing Buffy by the arm, he hauled her, choking and with eyes streaming, into fresh air well out of range of the smoke.

"What happened?" she asked hoarsely as soon as she could speak. "Where'd all the smoke come from? Did it blow up or something?" She blotted her eyes with her sleeve.

"Smoke bomb," Spike said tersely.

Buffy stopped in mid-cough. "Smoke bomb? I thought it said it was escaping into the misty portal of its demon dimension, or something." Another cough, then a throat-clearing.

"That's what it said, all right," he agreed, "but what it did was run around that corner there."

Buffy turned to look. "The corner the van also went around."

"Right." As one they broke into a run and turned the corner just in time to see the the black van taking off down the street. There was no sign of the demon.

"Hmm." Buffy pursed her lips, watching the taillights recede into the distance. "Did anything about that demon strike you as ... odd?"

He snorted. "What *wasn't* odd about it? I've seen some pathetic demons in my time but that one takes the blue ribbon. And where the hell did it come from? One minute, empty street with Mystery-mobile, then poof! There's a bloody demon standing there. Something off about that, pet. What kind of demon hangs out in a bloody stupid van like that one?"

"Good questions." Buffy turned on her heel and began walking away. "I think Giles might be interested in finding out the answers." Spike fell in beside her, saying, "Much as I'd love to spend the rest of the night with you, luv, that doesn't include your Watcher. Not that a menage a trois wouldn't be fun, mind you, just not one that involves that stuffy Brit."

Buffy shot him a look. "In your dreams, Spike."

"Every night, luv," he replied easily. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it. You're horney as hell, Slayer - I can see it in your eyes. And who else is there that can scratch your itch? Xander? Nah, he's too wrapped up in his little demonette. Rupert?"

"Ew!" Buffy made a face. "Don't be disgusting."

"Exactly," he nodded as if he'd made a point. "What with him being a father-figure to you and all, that's kind of incestuous, isn't it? And we all know Peaches is out of the question, thanks to that anti-happiness bit in his curse. So I figure that leaves only me. And you know what that old song says - if you can't be with the one you love then love the one you're with. So here I am, offering myself as a substitute."

"Very generous of you," Buffy said drily. "I'll pass, thanks."

Spike shrugged. "Your loss, pet. If you change your mind let me know. See ya around." Without another word he veered down a side street. After a moment he glanced over his shoulder. Buffy was nowhere to be seen but his vampire hearing detected her footsteps, heading away from him. Tightening his lips, he continued on his way.

"I'm sorry I couldn't find any information on that demon." Giles stood in the doorway to her bedroom, looking apologetic.

"That's okay." Buffy was lying on her bed, as she had been since she'd returned and told Giles about this latest demon encounter. Depressed, she mumbled, "I'm really screwing up, Giles."

"What? Come on." Giles sat down beside her. "You were being tested ... er ... sequentially, by some unknown demon. I don't call that screwing up."

Buffy shook her head. Rolling over on her back, she clasped a pillow to her chest and stared at the ceiling. "No, it completely is. I let the demon set the rules."

"Go easy on yourself, will you?" Giles gently chided. "I mean, you don't have to figure the whole thing out at once, you know - job, demon, and everything. You're pushing yourself too hard."

Her head turned; her eyes looked at him owlishly over the pillow. "The nice people at the phone company? They seem to think it's not hard enough."

Giles coughed. "Well, maybe there's something I can do about that." He took a piece of paper from his pocket. "This is, um ... I . . . "

Buffy waited, curious. He was turning the folded paper over and over, stammering, not looking at her. Then he held it out. "It's for you."

Automatically she took it, and realized what it was. "A check?" Sitting up, she unfolded it and looked at the amount. She was stunned. "This is, is too much. I can't take it."

Giles shrugged. "Well, tear it up then." He reached for it. Yanking it out of his reach, Buffy said, "No! I was just being polite." She gave him a sheepish smile. "I'm taking the money."

Giles leaned on his arm and gave her a reassuring smile. Buffy took another look at the check. "This is ... this is great. This is more than great." Feeling his hand on her shoulder she looked up at him. "I don't ... really know how to say this -" Her voice sank almost to a whisper. " - but it's a little like having Mom back."

Giles got a quizzical look on his face. "In this scenario, I'm your mother?"

"Want to be my shiftless, absentee father instead?" she asked lightly, in keeping with the tone he'd set.

A faint, sympathetic smile indicated he understood the bitterness behind her words, then he frowned thoughtfully. "Is there some sort of, uh ... rakish uncle?"

" 'Fraid not." Buffy smiled too, then turned serious. "I'm just saying - thank you. So much." She stood up. "I'm going to show this to Dawn. She loves it when things get easy." Before going out the door, she paused and looked back at Giles. "I - I just want to say that ... this makes me feel ... secure. Safe. Not the check - though that's a really big help and I can't thank you enough for it - but having you here, Giles. I know that I have to learn how to ... to be the grownup in the family now that Mom's gone."

She blinked away involuntary tears. "I know I can't expect you to do all the things she used to do, like worrying about the bills, and I know that I shouldn't lean on you too much. But ... if you could help ... just for a while ... give me a little time to kind of ... ease into it... ." Her voice trailed away.

Giles got up and went over to her, stricken by the pleading look in her eyes. He cleared his throat, but even so his voice was husky. "Of course I will. Good lord, it's only been two weeks since you ... came back. You need time to adjust. I understand that - all of us do, and we all want to help. We *will* help, Buffy, until you're on your feet again."

"Thank you," she whispered. They hugged, and for a moment Buffy rested her head against his chest, closed her eyes, and pretended that all was right with the world - that there was no mysterious and unknown Someone or Something playing mind games with her; that the bills were all paid and there was money in the bank acount; that Giles would always be there for her, strong, reassuring and caring - all the things her true father wasn't anymore - and that any time she wanted she could walk a few blocks and find Angel home at the mansion, or waiting for her to go on patrol with him, instead of having to be content with phone calls and occasional visits.

Then she sighed and stepped back. "Thank you," she repeated. Waving the check, she added, "I'll go tell Dawn the good news now."

"Good idea," Giles agreed. As she moved to go, his hand tightened on her shoulder, stopping her. "Buffy - " He paused; she looked at him, waiting. " - I know that it, it must be ... difficult ... *painful* ... to remember what you, you went through ... before Willow's spell rescued you - but I - I'm not sure that keeping it bottled up inside you the way you are is a good thing."

Buffy had to look away from the concern in his face. He went on. "If, if talking about the hell dimension - what happened there - if it will help at all ... I hope you know that you can come to me. You do know that, right?"

"I know." She flashed him a quick, brittle smile. "But there's nothing to talk about, Giles. It was the usual stuff - torment, suffering, you know the gig - and anyway it's all kinda melted into one big blur now. Thanks, though." She patted his arm, turned and was gone, down the hall to Dawn's bedroom. Giles gazed after her with a disturbed frown, then turned and walked slowly down the stairs.

"Why didn't you tell him the truth?" Angel asked.

Buffy sighed and curled her legs under her, making herself more comfortable. It was close to midnight; she and Angel had been talking on the phone for half an hour. "I can't," she finally said. "You didn't hear him after he got here, the way he tore into Willow for using dangerous magics to bring me back. He was furious with her, Angel. If he knew I wasn't in hell after all, that I'd really been ... elsewhere ... I'm afraid he'd never forgive her."

There was a moment of silence. "Giles called me earlier this evening," Angel said. "He wanted to know if you'd told me anything about the hell dimension he thinks you were in."

She bolted upright. "What? You mean he went behind my back?" She couldn't believe Giles would do something that underhanded.

"No! It wasn't like that," Angel assured her. "When I said that you'd told me some things he was very relieved and wanted to know if I thought talking about it had helped. He didn't ask for details of what you'd said, Buffy."

"Oh." Buffy slowly settled back against the pillows again. "So what did you tell him?"

"Basically that I thought you were getting over the trauma of everything - leaving 'everything' conveniently vague - but it would take more time and we just needed to be patient and not pressure you."

"Thanks."

"My pleasure." She could hear the smile in his voice, and smiled too. "So how has your week been?" she asked.

"Slow as far as work is concerned," he replied.

"No clients?"

"One," he told her, "but it turned out that his wife was having an affair with the demon, not that she'd been kidnapped by it. Didn't even take us twenty-four hours to figure it out."

"So what part of it wasn't slow?" Buffy wanted to know. There was a pause. Then - "Cordelia and I had a talk," he told her. "About what happened last spring with Darla."

"You mean your epiphany?"

"No," he said in a hurry. "She doesn't know about that - I mean, how it happened. They don't know that I slept with her and I don't want them to know. They - they wouldn't understand."

"I'm not going to spill the beans," Buffy said mildly. "So then your talk was about you getting obsessed with Darla."

"Yes." She heard a rustling sound, as if he'd changed position - perhaps sliding down lower or sitting up higher in the bed to get more comfortable. A moment later he continued, "We talked for a long time, and at the end she ... she apologized."

Buffy had to smile at the wonder in his voice. "Not like the old Cordy, is it? What did she apologize for?"

"For not being there for me when I needed help." It sounded like he was quoting. "And for not trying harder to understand what was happening."

"Well, granted I don't know a whole lot about what went on then, but from the little I have heard I'd say an apology was called for," Buffy remarked. "They're supposed to be your friends, Angel. Real friends don't accept that things are fine when they're obviously not. They try to understand what's going on."

"Real friends also don't fire their friends," was Angel's comeback.

"They might," Buffy returned, "under certain circumstances, like dangerous ones." Of course Angel couldn't accept that without more argument, but his rebuttals were fairly mild and it was clear to her that this talk with Cordelia had changed his views about the dark events last spring - at least a little. She was surprised and pleased that Cordy had obviously laid out in detail exactly what she was apologizing for, and why. She was also glad to hear that Angel had apologized for shutting them out the way he'd done. There had been blame on both sides, in her opinion.

Angel changed the subject. "Have you found out anything about this mysteryious demon - or the black van?"

"Zip, so far," she sighed. "But Giles is working on it, so I'm sure something will turn up, sooner or later."

"Let me know if we can help," he told her.

"I will," Buffy promised. A sudden yawn took her by surprise. "Oh! Sorry 'bout that."

"You're tired. I guess I should let you get to bed," he said reluctantly.

"Yeah," she sighed, with equal reluctance. "I'm pretty much done in."

He said softly, "I love you, Buffy, and I miss you. I wish I could be there to kiss you goodnight."

"Me too," she whispered. "All of it."

"Goodnight."

Buffy blew out a gusty sigh. Another night, another cemetery, another patrol. Not that she should really be complaining. After the events of Halloween she'd cut her patrolling in half, going out only every other night. Giles and the others, including Spike, had agreed that she needed to spend more quality time with Dawn, and they were covering for her on the nights she stayed in with her sister. She couldn't help feeling guilty that she'd been neglecting Dawn. She was the only family Dawn had now - since their father seemed to have forgotten their very existence - and even though it was hard, she needed to focus less on her own problems and more on Dawn's.

Poor Dawnie, finding out that the cute boy she was interested in was a vampire. Boy, could she relate to that! She chuckled ruefully at the memory of her first kiss with Angel. Yeah, finding yourself suddenly looking into a vampiric face was quite a shock, especially if you'd just been kissing that face. The difference was that Angel wasn't a vicious killer anymore, and although they'd had their ups and downs over the years, their love remained unbroken; something she was devoutly grateful for, since otherwise she'd *really* be screwed up right now, instead of being screwed up only part of the time.

Moodily she kicked at a half-buried stone and sighed again. Why was she so down in the dumps lately? Why were things still such a struggle sometimes? Surely she'd been back long enough that her life should feel comfortable and, and familiar again, so why did some things still require so much effort on her part? After all, it was the same life she'd had before she died. Why couldn't she just settle back into the groove, like relaxing into an old chair?

Of course, even before she died - again - that old, familiar (if not always comfortable) life had irrevocably changed. The revelation that her memories of Dawn were false, engineered by a spell whose magnitude staggered her imagination, followed shortly afterward by the death of her mother -

She blinked hard. Would she ever stop missing her mother? Stop yearning for her comforting presence, the sound of her voice, the warmth of her smile ... the security of her job that kept the bills paid?

Buffy smiled bitterly. How ironic was it that she, the Slayer, who killed demons on an almost nightly basis, who'd averted three or four Apocalypses and an Ascension, who'd died twice to save the world, couldn't find a job? She'd lost track of how many interviews she'd gone out on in the past few weeks. If it wasn't for Giles' generosity, and now the contributions from Willow and Tara, before long she'd have begun receiving increasingly stern reminders from the bank that her mortgage payment was overdue, not to mention the other institutions that expected to be paid on a regular basis.

Thank God for Giles. And Angel. He too had offered to help out, but something in her had rebelled at that. She didn't really understand why, but she just didn't want to accept money from Angel. Unless, of course, it was a real emergency but, thanks to Giles, that wasn't the case. No, what she wanted - needed - from Angel was something she couldn't have.

Stop it, Buffy Summers, she mentally scolded herself. You're talking to Angel almost every night, aren't you? And seeing him every couple of weeks. Even if it's not as often as you'd like, that's a hell of a lot more than you've had in the past two years, so stop feeling sorry for yourself! He loves you and you love him. There are people who would kill to know a love like that. Of course there are people who'd kill over a five dollar bet, but that's not the point. You're lucky to have Angel, even though you can't share his life.

That, of course, was a large part of her current depression. She had to stay in Sunnydale and Angel had to be in Los Angeles. She could talk sternly to herself 24/7 and it wouldn't change the fact that she missed him desperately and wanted to be with him. Their last couple of phone calls hadn't helped that longing, since most of the conversation had been about Cordelia. Okay, maybe not *most* - but a larger part than she liked. It was all "Cordy this" and "Cordy that."

Buffy stopped in her tracks, suddenly overcome with shame. Cordelia might be tall and beautiful, with a curvaceous body that Buffy had always envied, but she didn't have an easy life. Not that long ago her visions had been sabotaged by Wolfram & Hart so that along with the usual migraines they caused, she'd also endured boils and slashings and probably other torments Buffy didn't recall at the moment. Also, Cordelia had just recently discovered that as the price for ending the sabotage, Wolfram & Hart had demanded that Angel rescue someone from a hell dungeon - the nephew of one of their clients. He'd done so, only to find out the young man was no innocent victim but rather someone who possessed the awful power to instill in other men the uncontrollable urge to kill women. The young man - Billy by name - had escaped from his family a few days ago and several deaths had occurred before he'd been stopped. God, was she really resenting that Angel had been worried about Cordy? What was wrong with her?

Softly she began to sing as she resumed her patrol. "Every single night, the same arrangement. I go out and fight the fight. Still I often feel this slight estrangement, like nothing here is real, nothing here is right."

A vampire sprang out from behind a gravestone and rushed her. Without missing a beat she ducked away and spun him around. "I've been making shows" - her fist connected - "of trading blows, just hoping no one knows" - She kicked the vampire, then grabbed him and threw him behind her - "sometimes I'm going through the motions, just walking through the part."

She pulled a stake from the pocket of her coat. Without looking she staked the vampire as it attacked her from behind. "Nothing seems to penetrate my heart." She heard the unforgettable sound of the vamp exploding into dust but just kept on walking - and singing.

"I was always brave, and kind of righteous. Now I find I'm wavering."

Noticing some sort of commotion at a nearby tree, Buffy checked it out. There were two vampires and a demon gathered around it. They had tied someone to the tree but she couldn't see who it was, as he or she was around the other side. The vampires spotted her and instantly attacked.

"Crawl out of your grave," she sang, "you'll find this fight just" - She punched one vampire. - "doesn't mean a thing." The second vamp also took a hit.

"She ain't got that swing," carolled the first vampire. It knocked her down with a blow from its fist.

Crickets chirped in the bushes around her. "Thanks for noticing." She continued to lie on the ground as the two vamps and the demon all began dancing.

"She does pretty well with fiends from hell," they sang. "But sometimes we can tell she's just going through the motions."

Buffy noticed a sword sticking in the ground beside her. Scrambling to her feet, she grabbed it. The demon sang, "Going through the motions!" as she pulled the first vamp out of the dance lineup and, with one swing, decapitated it.

"Faking it somehow," the second vampire warbled. Buffy pushed him aside and stabbed the demon, who kept on singing, "She's not even half the girl she" - It looked down. - "Ow." It fell to the ground, clutching at its wound.

Buffy headed for the tree. "Will I stay this way forever? Sleepwalk through my life's endeavor?" The ropes binding the captive parted with one slash from the sword. A handsome hunk of a young man stepped around the trunk.

"How can I repay - " he began.

Buffy cut him off. "Whatever." Turning, she tossed the sword aside and continued walking. "I don't want to beee" -

Holding the note she stepped up onto a raised memorial platform, one that was ringed by statues - "going through the motions, losing all my drive. I can't even see if this is really me, and I just want to be" - The second vampire attacked her and she staked him, then spread her arms and sang -

" Aliiiiiive!"

The silence was deafening. Slowly Buffy lowered her arms and stepped off the memorial. "Okay. That was - weird." With an uneasy, wide-eyed glance around, she called it a night and went home. The next morning, after seeing Dawn off to school, she hurried over to the Magic Box. As she'd expected, everyone was there.

"Good morning, Buffy!" Giles called out. Willow and Tara were standing by the counter.

Willow looked up. "Oh, hey, did Dawn get off to school all right?"

"What?" Buffy said, distracted. "Oh. Uh, yeah. I think so." She came farther into the store. Xander was sitting at the round table holding a doughnut in each hand. He said something to Anya as she passed en route to the counter, but Buffy didn't catch it. Giles came over, looked in the box of doughnuts and selected one.

Buffy said, "So, uh, no research? Nothing going on? Monsters or whatnot?" Mouths full, Giles and Xander shook their heads. "Good! Good," Buffy said, then added, awkwrdly, "Uh, so, did anybody ... uh ... last night, you know, did anybody, um ... burst into song?"

Giles stopped in mid-chew. Everyone stared at her. "Merciful Zeus!" blurted Xander, spraying crumbs everywhere. Hastily he wiped his mouth and swallowed, brushing the table clean. Willow, Tara, and Anya rushed over and everyone began talking at once.

"We thought it was just us!" Willow exclaimed as Giles muttered something about leaving his guitar at the hotel and Tara said, "It was bizarre. We were talking and then it was like - "

"Like you were in a musical," Buffy put in. "Yeah," Tara agreed.

"That would explain the huge backing orchestra I couldn't see," mused Giles, "and the synchronized dancing from the room service chaps." In the midst of the babble about dishwashing and dancing and harmonies, he asked Buffy, "What did you sing about?"

Buffy hesitated. "I - I don't remember. But it seemed perfectly normal."

"But disturbing," declared Xander, "and not the natural order of things, and do you think it'll happen again?"

"I don't know; I should look into it," Giles said. "With the books," agreed Willow. "Do we have any books on this?" Tara asked.

"Well, we've just got to break it down," Xander said, with emphasis. "Look at the factors before it happens again. Because I for one - " Whatever he was going to say got interrupted.

"I've got a theory," Giles sang, "that it's a demon - a dancing demon. No, something isn't right there."

"I've got a theory," sang Willow, "some kid is dreamin', and we're all stuck inside his wacky Broadway nightmare."

"I've got a theory we should work this out," came Xander's musical contribution.

Buffy winced. Singing was *not* Xander's strong point. She listened and watched as the number played out, through Xander's suggestion that it might be witches and then his attempt to backpedal when Tara and Willow took offense at that idea, to Anya's bizarre electric-rock solo that it could be evil little bunnies who were responsible. Not for the first time Buffy wondered how this bunny phobia of hers had started. How could someone who'd been a demon be frightened of *rabbits*? Then as Giles got up to check sources upstairs, she felt a compulsion sweep over her. She struggled against it, but resistance proved useless.

She sang, "I've got a theory. It doesn't matter." Halfway up the steps, Giles paused and turned around. The others all looked at her. "What can't we face if we're together? What's in this place that we can't weather? Apocalypse? We've all been there. The same old trips; why should we care?"

Tara, Willow, Xander and Anya sang along: "What can't we do if we get in it? We'll work it through within a minute." Buffy looked at Giles, wondering why he wasn't joining in. After a minute he did. "We have to try. We'll pay the price. It's do or die."

Buffy shrugged. "Hey, I've died twice."

At that, Giles smiled and came back down the ladder. "What can't we face if we're together?" They were all singing. "What's in this place that we can't weather if we're together? There's nothing we can't face."

"Except for bunnies," Anya added as the number ended. Going over to the table she plopped down in a chair. One by one the others joined her. "See, okay, that was disturbing," Xander announced.

"I thought it was neat," protested Willow.

"So what is it? What's causing it?" Buffy wanted to know.

"I thought it didn't matter," Giles teased.

Buffy gave him a look. "Well, I'm not exactly quaking in my stylish yet affordable boots, but there's definitely something unnatural going on here. And that doesn't usually lead to hugs and puppies." Giles acknowledged her point with a rueful lift of his eyebrows.

"Well, is it just us?" asked Anya. "I mean, is it only happening to us?" Buffy walked over to the door. " 'Cause that would probably mean a spell or - "

The bell above the door jingled as Buffy opened it. Outside she saw a man standing in the street, a plastic-covered shirt in his hand. Joyfully he was belting out at the top of his lungs that the cleaners had gotten the mustard out. A group of people around him waved their own dry-cleaning bags as they danced in formation, enthusing about mustard. She closed the door.

"It's not just us." Crossing the room, she joined the others at the table, wondering if she looked as stunned as they all did. That had been *loud.* "So - what are we looking for here? A demon that's obsessed with recreating the Golden Age of Broadway?"

Giles said, "Well, that's a starting point, certainly." At Buffy's incredulous look he added, "I'm quite serious. In the early 1800s the Council had to deal with a demon trying to impose the Roman Empire on an area of Germany. Demons can be obsessive too."

"Like Spike," agreed Xander, looking at her pointedly. "Fixated on Buffy and thinking it's love."

"That's not funny, Xander," Buffy said, remembering Spike's blatant overtures to her. Funny how she happened to run into him during almost every patrol these days.

He turned around in his chair to face her, an unwontedly serious expression on his face. "You're right, it isn't funny. What it is, is disturbing - really disturbing. You need to get rid of him, Buffy."

A spark of anger flared. "He helped us fight Glory," Buffy retorted. "He protected Dawn, or have you forgotten all that? And now you want me to just kill him?" Giles started to say something, but checked himself.

"I didn't say you should kill him," Xander replied. "I know how much he helped us back then and I'm grateful for it, but I also know that he had his own twisted motives for doing everything he did. My personal guess is that he wanted to stay on your good side. I may have issues with Angel, but at least I know Dead Boy's love is sincere. Whatever it is that Spike feels for you is just plain sick."

"Xander's right," Giles put in quietly. "Buffy, I was going to talk to you about it privately, but since Xander has already brought it up - this has happened once before, a vampire becoming obsessed with a Slayer. I don't mean with killing her; unfortunately, that's fairly common with vampires. I mean true, fanatical obsession ... following her - well, stalking her, really - keeping an eye on everything she did, everyone she came into contact with ... even on occasion killing other demons to protect her. He too declared that he loved her."

"What happened?" Tara asked, her gentle face creased with a concerned frown. "I mean, h-how did it end?"

Giles sighed and began polishing his glasses. "The way you'd expect it to. The obsession grew stronger and stronger; eventually the vampire tried to force himself on her - and she staked him, but not before he injured her to the point that it took months for her to fully recover."

"That vampire didn't have a chip," Buffy pointed out. "Spike *can't* hurt me."

"Not physically," Giles corrected, "but just because he can't hit you doesn't mean he can't attack with more indirect methods. Remember his alliance with Adam, how he did his best to get all of us angry with each other, to split up the group. Spike could be in contact with all sorts of unsavory characters, giving them information about Sunnydale. I'm not saying he is, Buffy, just that the chip wouldn't prevent it."

"You're around him more than we are," Willow said, "but I can't remember him ever showing remorse for the things he did before he was chipped. Actually, he's always talked about how glad he'll be to get rid of it."

Buffy sighed. "Okay, point taken. We can't trust Spike - and I *don't* trust him, not really. But I can't stake him either. I guess that means I'm weak and a bad Slayer, but - I just can't. I'm sorry." Slumping down in her chair, she rested her head on one hand, feeling depressed again.

Giles went over and sat down next to her, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You're not a bad Slayer, and not wanting to kill someone who's been helpful doesn't mean you're weak, Buffy - "

"Of course not!" Willow interrupted. "It just means you're ... human."

"And that's good," Tara put in firmly.

"No one's asking you to stake Spike," Giles reminded her. "Right now all we're asking is that you be careful, nothing more." Looking around the table, he added, "We can get back to this subject later. Right now we need to start looking for answers to what's happening here. Focus, people."

Xander groaned but got up. "All right, Obi-Wan, lead us to the right books."

They were still researching hours later when the bell over the door jangled loudly. Dawn burst into the store, a huge, anticipatory grin on her face. "Oh my God! You will never believe what happened at school today!"

Buffy glanced up. "Everybody started singing and dancing?"

Dawn's face fell. "I gave birth to a pterodactyl," she mumbled, disappointed that her big news was already known.

"Oh my God," gasped Anya. "Did it sing?"

Dawn came over to the table, dropping her backpack on the floor. "So, you guys too, huh?"

"So what'd you guys sing about?" Xander wanted to know.

Dawn heaved a big sigh and flopped into a chair. "Math."

"Oh." He gave her a commiserating look.

Buffy went back to the heavy, musty volume she'd been perusing for ... forever, it seemed like. Her thoughts wandered from the old-fashioned print, with its S's that looked like F's and made the words look as if everyone back then lisped. What was Angel doing right now? Probably not sleeping, since he seemed to have totally adapted to human hours. He could be doing almost anything, she knew, as long as it didn't require going out into the daylight. She stifled a sigh. Her dark mood of the night before had vanished, but she still longed to talk to Angel, even if it was only for a few minutes.

Her wayward concentration wasn't helped any by Willow and Tara, who began whispering back and forth. After several minutes of this, they stood up and announced they were going back to the house to check other resources. From all the sidelong glances and raised eyebrows around the table, Buffy knew the others didn't believe their story any more than she did.

She gave a mental shrug. So what if the two girls were planning a little romantic interlude? She had confidence that they'd consult the books that were at the house afterward. And maybe the break would clear their minds or something, let them start fresh with the research. God knew *she* could use some refreshing about now - her brain felt like it was made of mush.

"I need some coffee," she announced, clapping her book shut. At least, it would have been a clap with any normal book; but the heavy, tooled-leather binding and thicker pages (compared to modern books) of this two-hundred-year-old volume merely emitted a dull "thud."

"I think there's still some in the office," Giles replied absently, without looking up from the book he was paging through. "Anya made a pot earlier."

"I make good coffee," Anya declared. "Don't I, Xander?"

"Yes, you do." Xander patted her hand.

"Xander says it was my coffee that finally put hair on his chest," she added proudly. "Because he didn't use to have any there, but you should see it now. He's not, you know, Mr. Hairy Ape or anything, but -"

Xander hastily cut in. "That's okay, honey. I'm sure nobody wants to hear the saga of my chest hair."

"Thank you," Giles and Buffy said together, then exchanged a droll look.

"Well, as long as it doesn't put hair on *my* chest," Buffy said, standing up, "I'll go grab a cup of Anya's coffee before I fall asleep and drool all over this priceless book."

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness," Giles said drily. "Buffy, when you talk to Angel tonight, why don't you see if Wesley can offer any insight into our problem here. Assuming we haven't already found the answer by then, of course."

Buffy saw her chance. "I could call him now," she offered casually. "Who knows, maybe they've encountered an all-singing, all-dancing demon somewhere along the way."

Xander rolled his eyes but, rather surprisingly, said nothing. Anya smiled knowingly and Dawn just snorted. Giles cocked an eyebrow at her, but he also smiled. "Go ahead; it can't hurt."

Buffy beamed her gratitude and hastened into the office to dial the familiar number - except she didn't have to dial it because it was stored in the phone's memory. She punched the button and after a moment heard it ring on the other end. Perching on a corner of the desk, she waited.

Wesley picked it up. "Angel Investigations. We help the - "

"Wes, it's me," she cut in, then realizing he might not recognize her voice, added, "Buffy."

"Buffy?" he answered. "Is something wrong?" Gunn, entering the office just then, threw him a concerned look.

"And hello to you too," she said, amused. "Yes, thank you, I'm doing good; how are you?"

Wesley sighed and closed his eyes briefly, leaning back in his chair. "Sorry. It's just that you don't usually call during the day, so I was worried." Reassured, Gunn mouthed "Later," and left.

Buffy chuckled. "I know; I was only teasing. Actually, we do want to pick your brains about something bizarre that's going on here." She paused. "Are you okay? You sound a little ... down." Maybe there was something in the air, she mused. An airborne depression germ or spore or something.

"No, I'm fine. Just a little - preoccupied," Wesley said hastily. "So what did you want to ask me?" She told him all the details. There was silence.

"Singing and dancing?" Wesley finally said.

"Yep. We'll be going along just like normal and then zap! All of a sudden we're on Broadway. Not literally, of course. Weird, huh?"

"Extremely," he agreed, rather dazed.

"So does it ring any bells with you?" Buffy asked hopefully. "Maybe you've heard about a mad-for-the-theater demon who's disgruntled because no one will produce his big musical?"

In spite of his dark mood, Wesley had to smile. "Er, no, I'm afraid not. But I'll check a few sources and let you know if I come up with anything. There's no urgency, is there? I mean, there's nothing actually dangerous about this ... phenomenon."

"Well, no." Buffy shrugged, coiling the cord around her finger. "Singing and dancing aren't exactly life-threatening." Abruptly she stopped. "You know, I wish I hadn't said that."

"Find some wood and knock on it," Wesley suggested lightly, although he understood her sudden uneasiness. Nothing could be taken for granted on the Hellmouth.

"Okay." Buffy rapped the desk with her knuckles. "Wood has now been duly touched, so hopefully the bad whatever-it-is has been avoided. May I speak to Angel now, if he's in?"

"Of course." Wesley straightened up. "He's down in the basement training with Cordelia. I'll go get him."

"No, wait," Buffy said quickly. "What do you mean he's training with Cordelia? Training for what, the Fashion Olympics?"

"No." Again Wesley had to smile. "Angel's been teaching Cordelia how to fight."

"Really." Buffy was silent a moment. "So, uh, how's it going? I really can't imagine Cordy wielding anything more lethal than a big, heavy Gucci bag."

"You're thinking of the old Cordy," Wesley told her, with slight reproach. "She's making good progress, or so Angel tells me. I haven't actually observed any of the sessions. But he can tell you himself; let me just get him."

"No," Buffy said again. "That's okay; don't disturb them. Just tell Angel I called and that I'll talk to him later, when he's free. Thanks, Wes."

Wesley was taken aback. "Buffy - " There was a click in his ear, followed by the dial tone. Frowning, he pulled the receiver away and stared at it as if it could clear up his confusion.

"What's up?" It was Gunn again, followed by Fred. "Why the big frown? Something wrong in Sunnydale after all?"

"No," Wes said, replacing the receiver in its cradle. He avoided looking at Fred, still ashamed and guilt-stricken by his attack on her the other day, even though he hadn't been exactly to blame for it and she seemed to have forgiven him. "That is, something strange is going on there but that's not what has me puzzled. Buffy wanted to talk to Angel - "

"Of course," Fred commented, matter-of-factly.

"Yes." Wesley paused. "Anyway, I said I'd go get him, that he was in the basement training with Cordelia. Then she said not to disturb him and hung up."

"Uh-oh." Gunn shook his head. "Sounds like someone's been bitten by the green-eyed monster."

"That's silly," Fred scoffed. "Buffy's got no reason to be jealous of Cordelia. She knows Angel loves *her*."

Wesley said drily, "Unfortunately, jealousy has nothing to do with logic or reason. And the sad truth is that Buffy and Angel can't be together the way they want to be; their lives have to maintain some separation. Cordelia is here with Angel and Buffy isn't - and apparently Buffy is still fragile from her recent experience."

"You mean coming back to life to find herself buried six feet underground?" Gunn said bluntly. "Yeah, that'd be enough to freak me out for a *long* time."

Wesley got up. "I'm going to give Angel Buffy's message. I'll be right back." They watched him leave.

"He's still upset about what happened," Fred commented, looking after him sadly. "He doesn't want to be around me."

Gunn gave her a comforting look. "Of course he's still upset. He tried to kill you, Fred. That's not something a guy can easily forget about."

"You tried to kill me too," she pointed out. "Or, well, you would have if I hadn't whomped you upside the head and knocked you out. Anyway, you're not still moping about it, so why is Wesley?"

"Because English ain't me," Gunn said soberly, "and because I understood what was happening and you were able to stop me before I really got started. It went farther than that with Wes, a lot farther, and he can't forgive himself."

"But it wasn't his fault." In her distress, Fred began pacing. "He didn't know that contact with Billy's blood would infect him with . . . well, with whatever it was Billy had that made men go Neanderthal-crazy when they got infected with it. None of us knew!"

Gunn heaved a big sigh. "We gotta keep reminding him of that. Sooner or later his guilt will grow less." He cast a glance out the door. "I hope. But right now we got this situation with Buffy to worry about."

"Is it a situation?" Fred was surprised.

"Jealousy is always a situation. It could cause problems for Angel," Gunn told her.

"It'll work out okay," Fred said confidently. "They love each other too much for it not to."

Gunn looked at her, shaking his head. "Fred, you got a lot to learn about people and relationships."

Even as Buffy put down the receiver, she knew she was being irrational. Why shouldn't Angel teach Cordelia how to fight? He was an expert and Cordy *should* know how to defend herself. In fact, thinking about it objectively Buffy was surprised they'd waited this long to begin self-defense lessons.

Too bad that cool objectivity didn't last beyond the first mental image of Angel standing behind Cordelia as he'd done with *her* when teaching her a new move - his hands touching ... guiding her motions . . . cool on her overheated skin ... his body tantalizingly close... .

Cordelia was a part of Angel's life now - an important part. Aside from more mundane assistance, she was his connection to the Powers That Be. The visions They sent her were one of the means by which Angel helped people, thus fulfilling his role as a warrior for good and enabling him to progress along the slow road to redemption. But even more significant was the fact that Cordelia was family. All of them - Wesley, Gunn, Cordelia, even Fred and Lorne - were family. They were involved with his life in Los Angeles in a way she couldn't be. The casual, being with him all day/every day kind of way. And Cordelia was a beautiful woman, even if that new short hair wasn't the most becoming style for her, in Buffy's opinion.

Wasn't there a cliche about men suddenly noticing a woman who'd been there all along? Sort of the girl next door syndrome, only applied to an office setting? She was sure she'd watched an old black-and-white movie on television last year about that very subject - the boss all at once realizing that his secretary was very attractive, and falling in love with her. Of course Cordelia wasn't a secretary and Angel wasn't her boss anymore, but now that he was teaching her self-defense they were involved in a manner they hadn't been before - one that involved one-on-one, head-to-toe, sometimes rolling-on-the-floor-together physical contact.

And Cordy was tall too. Angel wouldn't have to break his back bending over to kiss her.

"Well?"

Buffy blinked. A circle of expectant faces greeted her. She'd walked back into the main room of the store without realizing it. "What?"

"Did Wesley have any suggestions?" Giles asked.

"Oh. Uh, no, but he said he'd, um, check some references, ask around - that kind of thing." She made a vague gesture.

Giles studied her. "Is everything all right? You seem rather - distracted."

"No, I'm fine. I just - uh - I think I need some fresh air." Buffy headed for the door. "I'll be back in a little while."

"What about the coffee?" Anya called after her, wondering if Buffy had changed her mind about trying it. Maybe she really *was* afraid it would put hair on her chest, as it had for Xander.

Buffy turned, the bell chiming over her head. "Coffee? Yeah, that's a great idea. I'll bring some for everyone." The door closed behind her.

There was a baffled silence. "Okay," Xander said. "Is anyone else wondering what the hell happened during that phone call?"

The sun was still fairly high in the sky, but a few clouds could be seen on the horizon and the unseasonal warmth of the day had begun to cool. Buffy made her way down the sidewalk, dodging harried mothers with fretful children, groups of loudly chattering students, and business-suited professionals of both genders going about their business. Automatically she wove a path through them while her thoughts churned back and forth, making her feel like one of those old cartoon characters that had an angel talking into one ear and a devil whispering into the other. No, it was as if there were two Buffys; one of them cool, rational and mature; the other all insecure, roiling emotion that had never heard of logic.

(Okay, Buffy, you're doing it again. You're acting like a silly schoolgirl instead of someone who'll be twenty-one in a couple of months. Angel doesn't love Cordelia, except in a brother-sister-friend kind of way. He loves *you*, and you know it!)

(Yeah, but he can't *be* with me without risking his soul. That wouldn't be a problem with Cordy. And God knows she's beautiful and sexy and - and Angel may be a vampire but he's also a man, with normal male urges.)

(Great, now you're suggesting that Angel would use Cordy just to get laid? Not to mention thinking that Cordy would allow herself to be used like that? No way, huh-uh, that would never happen, not in a million years - even supposing there's something like that between them, which there isn't.)

(You're right; I know you're right. There's nothing between them except a really deep friendship, just like with me and the Scoobies. So why doesn't knowing that make me feel any better?)

Music came out of nowhere. She started singing:

"Cordy's his sister,
His seer, his friend
This shouldn't bother me
He wouldn't use her
For 'needs' or a whim
But in my mind I see -

"Foolishness!
'Cause he lives in L.A.
Sunnydale is my home
But his seems so far, far away

"She'd never settle
Or play second fiddle
To me in his heart
But shared joy and laughter
And tears and disaster
Each day can breed more
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah

"Foolishness!
Oh god, why can't I stop?
Seeing more than there is to them
When I know that there's not

"I'm just a fool, but he's
Not blind
She's gorgeous
Compassionate
Smart, sexy
Bitchy
I'm bitchy too, I know
Yet he loves me still

"And it's everything that I have wished for

"So why these?
Help me, please!
Gods, I must be mad!

Buffy laughed suddenly, harshly:

"You know nothing of madness
'Til you claw from your grave
Your first real thought his name
And you vow this time
You'll hold to love this time
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah

"Foolishness
Jealousy
Love
Must they go hand in hand?

"I get three steps ahead
Then I'm pulled down again
And I just want to stand.

"Foolishness
That this cuts like a knife
"Ah, well ...

"Back to my ... life!"

The music faded. She looked around. No one was near except for one couple, who applauded as they passed by. "Great," Buffy muttered. Turning, she trudged back to the Magic Box, remembering to stop and buy coffee for everyone.

"Work with me, British man," Xander said. "Give me an axe and show me where to point it." On the other side of the ex-Watcher, Anya nodded vigorously.

Giles sighed. The two had ambushed him as he left his hotel, sandwiching him between them. He'd been listening to them for several minutes now, even though the fact that they were both talking at the same time made it difficult. He understood their feelings. It was disconcerting to suddenly find oneself bursting into song, as had happened to the couple this morning, but he'd have thought that after all these years they'd know not to expect miracles. Summoning his patience, he said, "Well now, Xander, it's not quite that simple. But I have learned about some disturbing things."

They were nearing a young blonde woman who was singing to a policeman, but events like this had become so commonplace in the past couple of days that Giles gave them only a passing glance. Apparently she was pleading with the policeman not to give her a parking ticket. "Basically, the police have found dead bodies."

Anya snorted. "Like that's anything new in this town."

Giles coughed. "This was new. The bodies were burnt."

"As in burnt up?" asked Xander. "Somebody set people on fire? That's nuts!"

Anya muttered, "I don't know. One more verse of *our* little ditty and I would've been looking for a gas can."

"Well, clearly emotions are running high," Giles said, noticing a group of people dancing together in a parking lot. "But as far as I can tell these people burnt up from the inside - spontaneously combusted." Now they were passing three streetsweepers dancing with their brooms. "I've only seen the one victim. I was able to examine the body while the police were taking witness arias."

"Okay, but we're sure that the things are related: the singing and dancing, and burning and dying?" Xander wanted to know. They stopped walking.

Giles sighed again. "We're not sure of much. Buffy's looking for leads at the local demon haunts. At least ... in theory she is, but ... she doesn't seem to - " He faltered to a stop. One glance at his companions showed they understood his meaning.

"She's easing back into it," said Xander soothingly. "We pulled her out of an untold hell dimension, ergo the weirdness. The important thing is to be there for her."

Giles shook his head. "I'm helping her as much as I can, but ... " Again he stopped. Anya patted him awkwardly on the shoulder but had nothing else to contribute.

"Giles," Xander said hesitantly, "is it possible that something happened to Buffy when we brought her back - something that wasn't supposed to happen?"

"What do you mean?" Giles frowned.

The young man looked apologetic. "I'm not sure. But ... did Willow tell you that the Rite of Osiris didn't get finished?"

"What?" Giles swung around, looking sharply at him. "Why not?"

"The Hell's Demons that were terrorizing the town gate-crashed our little resurrection party before it was over. That's why we weren't there to help Buffy out of her grave." Xander looked distressed - and guilty.

As well he should, thought Giles. That they hadn't thought about what waking up inside a coffin buried in the ground might do to Buffy emotionally was only one of the stupidities associated with their resurrection plan. The greatest one was attempting to do it in the first place. And now it appeared that Willow and Tara hadn't set up any safeguards around their circle either. "No, she didn't tell me," he said grimly. "How far along had you got in the rite?"

"Uh," Xander said vaguely. "Well, Willow chanted a while and then weird things started happening. Willow got these mysterious slashes on her arms and she vomited up a snake, which - ergghh!" He shuddered, then went on, " - and then this reddish light surrounded her, and then the demons showed up with their motorcycles and one of them smashed the urn and, well, that was the end of that."

Giles felt as though someone had hit him on the head. He stared at Xander. "You mean the rite had just begun?"

"No. We'd been at it for, oh, at least fifteen minutes, more like twenty probably," Xander said. Anya nodded agreement.

Giles stuttered, "The, the Rite of Osiris takes a good forty minutes to perform, at minimum. You were barely halfway into it - " He stopped. "It shouldn't have worked. How the hell was Buffy able to come back?" He began striding down the sidewalk. "Xander, you may be right. Something might have gone wrong with Buffy. I need to look into this right away."

"Whoa." Xander hurried to catch up, Anya right on his heels. "Giles, I'm with you on being concerned about Buffy, but right now don't we need to concentrate on finding out why Sunnydale's suddenly turned into an MGM backlot?"

"Damn!" Giles rocked to a halt, frustrated. "Yes, you're right. Damn! All right, let's hurry up and find out the answers to this dancing business. Then I'm going to have a little talk with Tara and Willow." The trio hastened back to the Magic Box.

Buffy hesitated, her hand on the door handle. Why was she doing this? How likely was it that Spike would have the answer to their problem? Or that he would tell her if he did know it? She shrugged. He was a resource and she needed to check it out. She opened the heavy iron door and went in, only to find the crypt apparently deserted.

"The sun sets and she appears." Spike's head emerged from an opening in the floor, then the rest of him came slowly into view as he climbed up the ladder. "Come to serenade me?"

"So you know what's going on," Buffy said, relieved that she wouldn't have to spend time explaining the situation.

"Well, I've seen some damn funny things in the last two days. A six-hundred-pound Chirago demon making like Yma Sumac, that one'll stay with you. I remain immune, happy to say." He held up a bottle of whiskey. "Drink?"

"As always, no," she said firmly, sitting down on a convenient ledge. "So, any idea what's causing this?"

Spike threw her an indecipherable look. "Oh. So that's all. You've just come to pump me for information."

"What else would I want to pump you for?" she asked without thinking, then heard herself and cringed. "I really just said that, didn't I?"

"Yeah, well . . don't want to bore you with the small talk." Spike walked over to the door, opened it and turned toward her. "Don't know a thing."

Buffy frowned. "What's up? You're all bad-moody."

"Nothing," he replied. "Glad you could stop by." He gestured out the door in a "time to go" manner. Buffy just looked at him. "It's nothing," he repeated, more loudly.

She stayed put. "What?"

All at once Spike began singing:

"I died
So many years ago."

The look on his face at finding out he wasn't immune after all was almost comical. Rolling her eyes, Buffy resigned herself to yet another song-and-dance number.

"But you can make me feel
Like it isn't so."

Shaking his head, Spike closed the door.

"And why you come to be with me
I think I finally know.
Mm-hmm.
You're scared, ashamed of what you feel
And you can't tell the ones you love
You know they couldn't deal."

Huh? Ashamed of what she felt? Buffy frowned in puzzlement.

"Whisper in a dead man's ear
That doesn't make it real."

That stung, because she recognized the truth in it. She looked away.

"That's great
But I don't want to play."

Spike walked over to the sarcophagus.

" 'Cause being with you touches me more than I can say
But since I'm only dead to you - "

He jumped up and sat on the stone surface.

"I'm saying, 'Stay away - "

Lying down, Spike crossed his arms over his chest.

" - and let me rest in peace' "

He jumped off and the song suddenly turned angry.

"Let me rest in peace!
Let me get some sleep!"

Buffy jumped to her feet as the whiskey bottle smashed against the wall.

"Let me take my love and bury it
In a hole six foot deep.
I can lay my body down - "

He came toward Buffy, who braced herself warily, not sure what to expect.

" - but I can't find my sweet release."

With an angry gesture he turned away again.

"So let me rest in peace!"

It was obvious she wasn't going to get anything helpful out of him tonight, so Buffy started to leave. Before she'd taken more than a couple of steps, however, Spike came after her and intercepted her, holding onto her arm.

"You know you've got a willing slave," he sang.

Buffy blinked in disbelief as he sank to his knees.

"And you just love to play the thought
That you might misbehave."

What??? Buffy almost fell over as she finally grasped what Spike meant. He actually thought she was fighting an attraction to him? Sure, he was something of a hottie, with those cheekbones and all, but - Involuntarily she shook her head. No way.

"But til you do I'm telling you
Stop visiting my grave - "

Spike stood up, went over to the door and jerked it open.

" - and let me rest in - "

"Stop!" Her shout stopped him in mid-word. He blinked at her, dazed at being suddenly yanked out of his song. "Stop," she repeated, more quietly. "Spike, you need to get out of here."

"What?"

"You need to leave Sunnydale. I don't know what this ... obsession ... you have with me is, but it's not good for you." She held up her hand as he started to speak. "You say it's love. I don't know, maybe it is."

"It is," Spike interjected. "I love you, Buffy."

Buffy closed her eyes briefly. "Okay, you love me. But I don't love you, Spike, and I never will. And this idea you seem to have that I'm secretly fantasizing about having sex with you but I'm scared to give in to it, is all in your mind. It's a delusion."

"Not all of it," he murmured. He came closer, until their bodies almost touched. Buffy refused to give way, calmly returning his piercing stare. "You forget I can hear your heartbeat, Slayer. Every time I'm with you it speeds up."

Buffy looked at him closely. He couldn't be serious ... but incredulously she saw that he was. "That's because I'm the Slayer. Any time a vampire is nearby, it sets off a warning inside me, part of which is a slight surge in adrenalin - and that means an accelerated heartbeat." (I never thought I'd be grateful to Giles for making me learn all this stuff), she thought wryly. "It happens with every vampire, Spike, not just you."

Spike took a half-step backward. "What are you saying?"

"Listen to my heart now," she told him. His eyes riveted on her chest and he was motionless for several seconds. Then he looked away. She said, gently, "It's back to normal, isn't it?" He didn't answer, which of course was a reply in itself. "That's because I know you're not a threat, so my brain has overruled the warning reflex."

His mouth twisted. "Not a threat." He moved away. "That's the bloody truth, i'nnit? Thanks to Captain Cardboard and the bloody Initiative." When she didn't respond he glanced at her over his shoulder, then turned to face her. "What's that look on your face supposed to mean?"

"I was just thinking how quickly your focus moved from me to the fact that you're chipped. I think that's pretty revealing," she said. He turned away again, presenting her with his back. "What would you do if that chip suddenly wasn't there?"

He didn't say anything, so she went on. "Right. I think we both know the answer to that, and sooner or later it's going to happen. Either you'll find a way to get it taken out or the chip will just stop working. And when that day comes, Spike, I will have to kill you."

She went over to the door, which was still standing open. Pausing in the doorway, she looked back at him. Abruptly he said, "Could you do that, Slayer? Could you really kill me?" He turned to look at her. A ray from one of the cemetery's security lights came in through the window, bathing him in its ghostly glow.

"I stabbed Angel even after I knew he was no longer Angelus," she replied steadily, looking him in the eye, "even though I knew I was condemning him to years of torment in hell. It almost killed *me*, but I did it. I had to. If I could do that to the man I love, then, yes, I could kill you. Please leave Sunnydale, Spike - for both our sakes." Turning, she left.

Spike remained where he was for a long time, staring at nothing.

"Lot of homework?" asked Tara, from the doorway to Dawn's bedroom.

Dawn made a face. "Math. It seemed cool when we were singing about it."

Tara smiled sympathetically and came a few steps inside the room. "Willow said they have a lead on the whole musical extravaganza evil. There's this demon that can be summoned, some sort of Lord of the Dance." She grinned. "Oh, but not the scary one. Just a demon."

Dawn looked interested. "Do they know who summoned it?"

"They don't even know its name yet. But Willow will find out. She's the brainy type." Tara smiled again, proudly.

"Hmm." Dawn returned her smile. "I'm glad you guys made up."

"What?"

"That fight you guys had about magic and stuff?" Dawn reminded her. "It gives me belly rumblings when you guys fight."

Confused, Tara said, "Dawn, Willow and I never fought about - "

Dawn hurried to reassure her. "It's okay. It's just ... you guys are so great together. I just hate it when you have arguments." She shrugged. Tara looked down at the herb pinned on her blouse and removed it. Dawn went on, "That was the only fight I've seen you guys have. But I'm still glad it's over."

Tara stared at the herb in her hand as if she'd never seen it before. "Dawn, I ... Um, there's something I need at the shop. Will you be okay for a little while?"

Dawn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes. The fifteen-year-old can spend half an hour alone in her locked house."

Tara barely listened. "Good. I - I won't be gone long." She rushed out of the room.

Dawn waited until she heard the front door close, then went over to the table and opened her small wooden jewelry box. For a moment she surveyed the items inside, then took out the necklace she'd swiped from the Magic Box earlier and put it on. Looking at herself in the mirror, she sang:

"Does anybody even notice?
Would anybody even care?
Okay ... Anya would care - "

She smiled wryly, knowing Anya's first concern would be the cost of the items. Then her smile faded.

"And Buffy would too
Well - if only she knew
And I care, I really do
So ... ."

Her reflection stared back at her, as if issuing a challenge. Out loud she said, "So tomorrow - or tonight, if I get a chance - I'm taking all this stuff back."

The decision made, a huge weight seemed to lift off her shoulders. Almost giddy with relief, Dawn turned around, only to find a demon standing directly behind her. No, there were three of them, their heads huge and mask-like. Even as she screamed, one of them grabbed her and threw a bag over her head. She continued screaming, but even to her own ears the sound was muffled. Not that there was anyone to hear her anyway. Despite her struggles, she was lifted up and carried away.

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