DISCLAIMER:All of the characters appearing in this story belong to the WB, except Eve whom I made up myself. I don't own James Bond in case you are worried.
RATING:NC-17 in some spots
BACKGROUND: Season 4 story. Happens the weekend after Facing the Truth. Buffy/Spike, Angel/Willow slightly implied Thoughts are cited with * *

Cordelia Chase was enjoying herself. She was having one of those normal moments that she’d come to appreciate recently. The source of her enjoyment was painting her nails at her desk.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like working for Angel Investigations. Not at all, having a vampire for a boss had its advantages. Fighting the forces of evil and getting paid (sometimes) wasn’t that bad either. The visions she could live with, despite the head-splitting pain. Personally she felt like God’s mall announcer, saying, “Evil demon rising on West ninth,” instead of “Sears is having a 50 percent off sale.” She could deal with the depressing dreams she’d been having for a week, and she was even semi-okay living without Doyle.

Still, doing normal things just reminded her that she was still Cordelia. Painting her nails into the perfect manicure proved why she had been the Bitch Queen of Sunnydale High. Before the demon and the bomb destroyed the school during Graduation at least. For once Cordelia could actually relate to Buffy now, being the Chosen and all. Buffy had been picked for no good reason to be the Slayer for life, severely limiting her career options, and, since Doyle had saddled Cordelia with his old gift of Seeing the future without her permission, she would be able to see the future until the day she died. Not that she minded Doyle giving it to her; she only wished the Powers That Be could choose one constant time of the day to visit her.

Today’s color was called Urban Sludge, a new bluish purple that matched perfectly with her new sandals. Cordelia had started her first coat when she felt the first and very short warning signs that she was about to get a vision. Her eyebrows twitched on their own violation, and light exploded behind her eyes.

Light and dark, back and forth. The slayer and a child looking into a burning fire. The child opened its mouth to reveal sharp fangs, lunging at Buffy. A shadow staked it, and placed a hand on Buffy’s shoulder, addressing Cordelia directly, “They got me, too, Cordelia, only worse.” The voice, the slayer, the shadow, and the words, “They got me too.”

Her head in her hands, Cordelia waited for her body to relax. The aftermath of these vision/seizures was murder on her shoulders and neck. By the time she was old, say 30, no masseur would want to touch her. In control again she felt her forehead and found the chipped texture of dried nail polish. As she groaned she looked down at her desk and began to scream.

“Angel!” she shrieked. From somewhere in the depths of the office, Angels heard and headed for her.

“Cordelia, what is it?” he asked, eyes alert for danger.

“I had a vision, and it ruined my manicure! I have nail polish on my forehead, and look what it did to my desk.” She indicated her desk, which had its entire surface covered with purple-blue polish.

“What was it?” Angel questioned urgently.

“Urban Sludge. I picked it up at Macy’s a week ago.” Angel sighed in exasperation, and Cordelia continued, “Okay, the vision.” She rolled her eyes, “It wasn’t a ‘big danger, needs help’ vision. It was more of a, I don’t know, something else vision. Buffy was in it.”

“Was she okay?” he gasped quickly, remembering Doyle’s last Buffy vision.

“She was fine, wearing a blue tank top, if it helps. No one was in danger really desperately, like it was already over. Besides, Buffy was just in the vision. She was a supporting character, not the main event. That was someone else,” Cordelia became very thoughtful. “It was someone close to Buffy, someone I knew. I know their voice. They said . . .uummm. . . ‘They got me too, Cordelia, only worse.’ Yep, said that a few times. Oh yeah, there was a little fighting. That someone else I mentioned dusted a little girl vampire, whatever that meant.”

Angel nodded absently, trying to discern what Cordelia’s vision could have possibly meant. There was a loud knock at the door.

“Special delivery for Angel Investigations,” a voice said.

Figuring was part of her secretarial duties, Cordelia grabbed the ever-present stake from her top drawer and went to answer the door. “Hello, how may I help you?” she said in her perkiest voice.

“Are you Cordelia Chase?” the deliveryman eyed her carefully.

“Yes, I’m me.”

“Sign here and take this package.” Cordelia complied, and he handed her a large brown square package. “Thank you ma’am.” He shifted uncomfortably, “This delivery is a few days later than expected because of the mess in Sunnydale.”

“What happened in Sunnydale?” Cordelia said, suddenly feeling rather worried.

“I guess up here in LA you hadn’t heard. There was a three-day power failure. It took out the electricity and even the phones. Some crazies cut the grid in, I heard, twenty different places. The whole town shut down, my company included. Without computers we couldn’t ship anything. I’m sorry for the delay.”

“It’s okay. I was afraid someone had died,” Cordelia said, relief flooding away her worry.

“Ma’am, I’ll be on my way,” he tipped his hat and left.

“Wonder what this is. It says, ‘Cordelia Chase, Angel Investigations. From the Ripper.’ That means Giles, right?”

“That means trouble. He only uses that name when something is up, and he can’t use his real name,” Angel mused, handing her a pair of scissors.

“One way to find out,” Cordelia attacked the tape. Opening the package up, it was full of confetti, and she dug around until she found a small triangle-shaped object. “Willow must have folded this; football notes are so high school study hall.” She unfolded the note and laughed, “It says, ‘Willow did fold this. Read it out loud to Angel.’”

“‘Dear Angel and Cordelia- Greetings, I trust you are both well and wish you future health.’ Blah, blah, blah. Okay, here it gets good. ‘I know you are wondering as to the purpose of this letter. As you are well aware, Buffy has often had prophetic dreams. Recently we have acquired a young girl that appears to have the ability to see the future. While I have not actually seen her yet, Buffy assures me she is currently in good hands, don’t ask, and is about five years old.

Our dilemma is as follows. The seer was rescued from a group of vampires who killed her parents, but showed no apparent interest in draining her. Buffy suspects that they are hunting her and seeking to capture her for some yet unknown purpose. We have been unable to locate any seer lore save that referring to Drusilla in the Diaries. Vampire activity has been at a bare minimum, and we fear they are planning something. Any light you could shed on this matter will be much appreciated, but do not call or write. Come in person for I am of the mind that we are being watched. Till then good-bye.’ Angel, this letter was dated a week ago.”

“Yes, and the power went out in Sunnydale at the same time. Not to mention your episode last week,” Angel added.

“Don’t remind me. Waking up and screaming for two hours straight did not make my night either. Especially with you and Wesley locking all the windows and wandering around with stakes and crosses.”

“You said there was a little girl in your vision. Was she say, five?”

“Could have been. If she was dusted, that would mean she’s dead. . .”Cordelia said very slowly. “And if she’s dead, than whoever touched her-”

“Just got a present,” Angel finished. “I’d be willing to bet that they have no idea. Cordy, do they even know that you’re my seer?” Angel gave her a hard look.

She shrugged, “So it wasn’t something I wanted the world to know. Hi, my name is Cordelia and I see the future? It must be okay cause you kill vampires, you’re a witch, and he’s a werewolf. Besides I like my eyes where they are,” she fluffed her hair remembering Barney the eye-stealing empath demon. “The less people who know the better.”

“But whoever got it now, probably doesn’t have a clue. You’re safe; they’re vulnerable,” Angel observed grimly.

Cordelia picked up the phone and began dialing, but Angel brought his hand down on the receiver, cutting off the call. She was indignant, “Hey, what was that for?”

“No phone calls. The letter said.”

“If their seer already bit the dust, literally, then what’s to worry about? The danger is probably over,” she pointed out.

“We can’t be sure.” His gaze dropped to the tabletop, and then he grabbed Cordelia’s polish smeared fingers.

“What?” she demanded.

“Did you miss this?” He pointed to her paint-covered desk.

“I don’t remember writing that. ‘Another door opens.’ What does it mean?”

Angel was silent for a long second, “When I asked the Powers for Doyle back they said that when one door closes, another opens. You know what that means?”

“Yeah, I know what it means. First, I take off my nail polish, it’s ruined. Second-and almost as important-road trip.” She headed deeper into the office, muttering, “I wonder what I’m gonna wear.”

“The purpose of this meeting is to address the current problem with patrolling,” Giles said to the group, which had met in his living room that following day, a Friday. Xander sat in a chair by the window, Willow lounged on the couch near Anya, who popped a bubble, having recently discovered the joys of gum. Buffy was propped up in front of the couch, and Spike wandered around the kitchen counter still in his duster.

“Watcher, I do not understand,” Anya snapped her gum.

“Anya, Buffy cannot patrol with Spike every single night. As you saw last week, having our two strongest members in the same place all the time was not the most wise move.”

Willow raised her hand, “Are you saying that because Buffy was always at Spike’s, we ‘normals’ may have missed out on all the stuff those vampires were doing.”

“Precisely Willow. I intend to have a rotating schedule so we won’t be so predictable.” He uncovered his brand new economy size wipe-off board. “Since Oz. . . left, we’ve been a bit on the short side for supernatural senses in the non Slayer or vampires among us.”

“Ooh,” Xander quipped, leaning back in his chair. “We’ve entered a new millennium, and Giles went all high-tech. Initiative look out. We’ve got ourselves the cutting edge of technology!”

“Let’s see if Buffy is hearing the same thing as all of you. According to this chartish thing, I patrol five days a week, and Spike patrols five days a week. Everybody else signs up for the other four spots,” Buffy said.

“Except of course, that you and Spike cannot choose the same nights off,” Giles blew on his glasses. “And this schedule will change weekly.”

“I get it,” Willow exclaimed. “The vamps, and demons, and witches, and everything will never know who they’ll meet up with when.”

“Red,” A voice said from the back. “I know you miss dog-boy, but don’t let it effect your job here,” Spike said this loudly, pouring himself a cup of blood from the refrigerator.

The group stared at him. Buffy winced inside; Spike had been acting a little strange since Eve died. She had supposed he was still grieving in his own way. It didn’t disrupt the smoochies in any way. A rush of warmth ran up her, remembering his mouth and hands all over her. . . She shut the thoughts down because they had no intention of telling anyone in the Scooby gang yet. Maybe that was the problem. After Eve had died, the gang had accepted him as one of them. (Secretly Buffy believed Willow had a hand in this, since she was the only one Buffy had mentioned Spike’s grief to.)

“Look, Dead Boy number two,” Xander said standing. “That was out of line.”

“No, you and demon-girl are so preoccupied with the shagging you’re gonna do after this; you’re not paying attention either.”

Xander shut his mouth, and Anya paused mid bubble. Buffy cringed again because the couple had been paying attention. At least she’d thought so. Judging by their faces though, they must not have been.

Giles cleared his throat, “While that was all very interesting, can everyone sign up now?”

Grumbling, the gang converged on the board and wrote their names down. Anya and Xander paired up with Buffy on Monday and Tuesday with Giles and Willow taking Wednesday and Thursday respectively.

After that the group began to head off in different directions. Spike disappeared out the front door, and Xander and Anya headed toward Xander’s house. Willow caught Buffy by the door. “Buffy, Spike was so right. I was brooding about Oz again. Today, being a Friday and all, there’s the weekly party at Delta Theta. You coming? Riley will probably be there.” She gave Buffy an inquiring eyebrow.

“I can’t,” Buffy cast a glance at where she had last seen Spike. “I did majorly neglect my whole studying deal while I was taking care of Eve. Professor Walsh gave me a chance to make it up as long as I turn in all these extra credit reports. You know the drill, a stupid Slayer is a dead Slayer.”

Willow nodded, “I understand. I’ve gotta ask Giles for some stuff before I head to the party. See you later then. Around three, I think.”

“See ya,” Buffy hefted her stake and headed out into the night.

“Well, that meeting was productive,” Giles said as Willow helped him carry the wipe-off board into the back room. They put the cover back on, concealing the new schedule.

“I need some ingredients to whip up another locator spell to put in Spike’s coat, since we used the last one,” Willow said.

“I am rather vague on the reason Spike still needs one.”

“I know he doesn’t talk about it, but the Initiative is still out there. And if he is ever caught, I don’t know what Buffy would do.”

“Point taken, seeing as we trust him enough to let him patrol without Buffy, we might as well protect him from his enemies,” Giles agreed. “What do you mean about not knowing how Buffy would react?”

She raised her hands in a gesture of confusion. “I don’t know. Those two are closer since they got Eve. She got a little harder, and I think he mellowed. I’m kinda jealous,” Willow admitted.

“That’s understandable, the two getting closer. After all, they did have a child together,” Giles stopped himself. “I mean, they did not actually have a child-”

“I know what you meant,” Willow giggle. “Sometimes I wonder-”

Whatever she was wondering was interrupted by someone banging on the door.

Armed with the required stake and cross in her coat pocket, Willow opened the door to be greeted by a vampire and something almost as scary.

“Angel, Cordelia, come on in!” She let them in. Angel was his usual self, tall and dressed in his signature black. Cordelia too was making her usual flawless fashion statement, her hair twisted up and wearing a slinky blue number. She lacked, strangely for her, some nail polish. “So, you got our letter?”

“Yesterday. Are we too late?” Angel inquired, scanning the room.

“If you mean in respects of the seer, she is dead,” Giles said. “She died last week.”

“What happened?” Angel asked.

“Drusilla and her pet fungus demon tried to use Eve, the seer, to bring the power of the Gods to earth,” Giles shared.

“But first they knocked out all the power in Sunnydale to heighten the confusion,” Willow added.

“So what happened to good ole Dru?” Cordelia asked as she checked her hair in the window.

“She’s dust. So’s Eve,” Willow answered flatly.

“Sorry,” Cordelia said quickly. “I didn’t know you were close.”

“We weren’t, but don’t talk like that around Buffy right now.”

Angel coughed politely, “Cordelia and I are here because of the letter and because we need to talk to all of you.”

“You just missed the group meeting, unfortunately. Is it urgent? Because we are having another one tomorrow,” Giles said apologetically.

“It’s fine.” Angel sighed, “If it waited a week, one more day won’t hurt.” Staring at the floor, he carefully offered up a question, “Where’s Buffy tonight?”

“At our room studying,” Willow replied.

“Do you think she’d mind if I paid her a visit?” Angel said slowly.

“Not at all. Be careful though. She has been a little moppy since Eve died. Okay, a lot moppy sometimes, but grief does that. Just go on in, I invite you.”

“At least we’ll have something to talk about.” He started toward the door, “See you tomorrow.”

“At seven o’clock tomorrow night,” Giles called after him.

Cordelia turned, “ So, where's the rest of the gang tonight?”

Willow hesitated, “Xander and Anya are probably at his house, and I couldn’t even guess where Spike is.”

“I forget sometimes that he’s not playing for the other team anymore,” Cordelia commented. “So, what’s the night life like around here?”

“Other than the Initiative wandering around and the odd vampire or demon trying to destroy the world, basically frat parties.” Willow checked her watch, “Which reminds me, I’m due at Delta Theta.” She eyed Cordelia warily, “I can’t believe I am actually doing this. Cordy, do you want to come with me?”

“Really?” Cordelia said eagerly, and stopped herself, saying suspiciously, “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to go by myself. Cause I want to catch up on news, but mainly because I don’t want to intrude on Angel’s Buffy time if I get bored at the party. Besides, you’re familiar and hanging out with Angel hasn’t seemed to change you much.”

“Way more than you think, I bet,” Cordelia replied mysteriously.

“How?”

“Most of this is going to wait for tomorrow’s meeting. For now let's say, I have seizures, only sometimes.” She and Willow headed out into the dark. “Though, honestly Willow, before we go anywhere, we have got to do something about that ensemble.”

*Freud was out of his mind,* Buffy thought to herself, flipping through the Psych chapter she was supposed to be reading. When she had gotten home, she’d changed for bed, a little blue tank top and a pair of loose cotton black pants, and then she tried to crack down on the homework. The amount of work she had to make up was pretty big, since college had taken a backseat to caring for Eve. Not that she minded because Eve had been worth the effort. She closed her eyes and envisioned Eve’s little face saying, “Mommy Buffy.”

So involved in her thoughts, Buffy ignored the rush of displaced air through her open window, discounting it as the wind. She was turning her mind back toward the book, and a British vice whispered into her ear, “Bond.” A cool tongue licked her earlobe, sending a jolt down her spine. “James Bond.”

“Spike,” she confirmed and rotated her head to give him a long deep kiss that went on and on.

When they pulled apart, Buffy was panting for air, and Spike was trembling ever so slightly. “Never figured out what you Americans found so great about him.”

“He was sexy. Dead sexy. I saw all of his movies.”

Spike shook his head in disgust, “Why did the girls always go for him? He wasn’t that sexy.”

“It was the danger,” Buffy said, understanding how they felt. “He was something they knew was forbidden.”

“Maybe I could learn to like him,” Spike took off his duster and laid it on her chair. Nuzzling her neck, he asked, “How’s the studying, Buffy?”

A wave of warmth swept through her; he only called her by name when he was sure they were alone, and he was about to ravish her. “Not so hot. Some psychology guy named Freud,” her voice shook as his hands began to roam underneath her tank top. “He was into all of these sexual stages.” She eyed him spectivately, “I already know what stage you’re going to be in forever.”

“What’s that, luv” his voice was harsh , watching her rise from her chair.

Her answer was to unbutton his red outer shirt and lean into him. Spike held himself very still, attempting to maintain a little control. “The oral stage. It’s the one where taste is the most important sense.” She bit one of his flat nipples through his black T-shirt.

Spike growled and yanked her roughly against him, fastening his mouth to hers. He lifted her up and tossed her on her bed before he pounced on her. He began to kiss her madly, running his hands across her body.

Mid-kiss, she untucked his shirt and unbuckled his belt. Her hands reached lower, but he hissed and grabbed them back. Pinning both her hands above her head with one arm, Spike backed off for a second to stare into her wide eyes.

He dropped his other hand and ran it lightly over her heaving chest, smiling as her nipples tightened. Buffy pressed herself further into his hand and moaned. He paused, hand on her breast, “Forget to put on your bra?”

“That’s not all I forgot.” Freeing a hand, she pulled his face down to hers and thrust her hips onto his, grinding against him. Intent on making him feel as wild as she did, she purposely cut her tongue on one of his teeth to let him drink a little of her blood.

As expected, Spike went crazy at the taste of her warm blood. Vamping out, he slid his hands under her shirt, caressing her breasts with rough strokes. Moving down, he delivered a set of mock vampire bites to her neck as he tweaked her nipples with one hand. Buffy screamed in pleasure and responded by arching her back to give him better access to her throat.

Lost in each other, neither heard the door open.

Angel climbed the stairs to the floor Buffy’s room was on. The desk clerk had assured him upon registering Angel as a guest, that Buffy had not registered any other visitors. That meant he would get a chance to explain the whole situation about the seer to her before tomorrow’s meeting. He also had the purely selfish motivation to just spend a little time with her.

The hall was deserted when he reached it. It didn’t bother him very much; Cordelia had explained that weekends in colleges were mainly parties, so no one would be in the dorm this early. He didn’t have any premontions of danger, and since Cordelia had been quite positive about there being no danger, he wasn't worried.

The desk clerk had given him Buffy’s and Willow’s room number, 214. Arriving at the door, Angel debated on what he would say to her once he knocked on the door. The point became moot because he heard Buffy’s scream from within.

Adrenaline surging through him, Angel flung the door open and took in the scene before his eyes.

Buffy was lying on the bed, arms flailing wildly in all directions, and his childe, Spike, had his face buried in her neck.

Snarling with rage, he pulled on his game face and seized Spike by the collar. Smashing Spike’s face into the wall was especially satisfactory since not only was Spike vamped out, his mouth was telltale red from Buffy’s blood.

“I knew you couldn’t be trusted,” Angel hissed and reached into his pocket for a stake.

“Wait just a bleeding second, ‘Dad,’” Spike tried to calm him.

“I think I got the general idea, ‘Son,’” Angel replied, pushing the stake at Spike’s heart.

His motion was disrupted by a surprise attack on his right that knocked the stake out of his hand. He spun to face his new opponent and reeled back as a round-house connected with his face. Angel dropped Spike who landed on his feet in time to pull Buffy back, saying, “Thrashing Mr. Hyde is not going to help.”

Angel shook his head to clear it, taking in the couple before him. A Buffy he hardly recognized stood slightly in front of his again human-looking errant childe. Her neck was untouched, and her eyes were flashing angrily. “What do you think you’re doing?” she spat out.

“Saving you from him,” Angel pointed at Spike.

“Do I look like I need saving?” Angel paused at Buffy’s statement, noticing Spike’s hand curled possessively around the Slayer’s waist. Then he saw the open book on the desk, and Spike’s beloved duster hanging on the chair. A glance at the two confirmed a fear he was completely unprepared to deal with. Spike’s hair was a mess, his red shirt almost off, his T-shirt rolled part way up, and his belt undone. The love of his immortal life had all of her clothes on except they seemed rumpled. Her hair was all mussed, and it was pretty clear that she wasn’t wearing anything under her blue tank top or pants. He was honestly shocked speechless.

“Well, it’s nice to see we’re out in the open now, Slayer,” Spike announced loudly, breaking the silence.

“How long?” Angel gaped.

“How long have we been shagging? ‘Bout a week. Been shacked up for a month if that counts,” Spike leered, bending closer to Buffy who shook him off.

“Shacked up?” Angel echoed. “Why didn’t Willow tell me?”

Buffy apparently decided to end the male clash in her room. “Spike, this may be a good time to go home.”

“No. I deserve to see Peaches here get the full story. Eve was under my protection first,” Spike replied stubbornly crossing his arms.

“And look where it got her,” Angel snapped without thinking.

Spike shot past Buffy to deliver a brutal uppercut to Angel’s jaw, following it with a jab kick to the ribs. “You have no clue what you’re blabbering about!” he yelled, preparing to punish Angel’s face.

Further violence was prevented by Buffy dragging Spike away. “Stop or you’ll bring the Initiative down on us all.” Spike glared at her, and her attitude softened, “Spike, please go. Just for now. I’ll call you as soon as I can.” She gave him a very long and passionate kiss. Angel couldn’t watch, staring at the floor in an effort to ignore Buffy’s gasps of enjoyment.

Finally letting her breathe, Spike was smiling down at her, “I’m going, but I’m not happy.” He flashed his demonic vestige at Angel, “Hurt her, wanker, and I guarantee you’ll wish you were in Hell again.” He stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

It pained Angel to see the hurt and tenderness on Buffy’s eyes as she watched Spike go. She used to look at him with that look. Buffy turned to him, “You’d better sit down. Take Willow’s bed.”

Angel sat, “How and why are you with him? How could you two have been living together? Willow seems to think you live here.”

“I do,” she said quickly, “At least lately.” Angel shot her a look full of confusion. “Eve, the seer. She was five. The vampires got her parents, but Spike save her and killed the vamps.”

That was new to him. “I thought Spike couldn’t hurt anyone.”

“Turns out that’s a kinda ‘humans only’ rule. Vampires and demons don’t count. As I was saying, Spike rescued her and took her to his house.” A thoughtful but sad expression stole across her face, “Eve was incredible. She brought out the best in everyone, even Spike.” Her voiced dropped conspiratorially, “She called him ‘Daddy William.’”

“‘Daddy William?’” Angel smiled. “I bet he loved that.”

“Actually he did,” Buffy’s reply startled him. “Spike would do anything for her,” The softness in Buffy’s face reminded him of just how beautiful she was. “And Eve loved him. I mean she loved me, Mommy Buffy, too, but Spike was first to her."

“Did she know about his . . . condition?” Angel had the terrible desire for something with Eve to have gone badly for Spike.

“That he was undead? Yeah, she knew, only she didn’t care,” She faced off into the distance, and Angel could see she was thinking of the little seer. “Somehow she could see inside us.”

“How did this bring you to living with Spike?”

“Eve believed her ‘parents’ should live together. So I slept over every night.”

“Alone?” Angel asked before he could stop himself.

Her head snapped back like he’d hit her. “What kind of a question is that?”

“Sorry, none of my business,” Angel apologized, his question answered by her reaction. Yes, she slept in Spike’s bed nightly. “If you weren’t really together then, when did it happen?”

Buffy flushed a deep crimson, “The night Eve died. Afterwards.”

“How did Eve die?” Angel changed the subject. He did not want to know the details about his love finding solace in the arms of his childe. He didn’t even want to think it.

“She died because the Powers of Exponents or something picked her to the their Voice.”

“The Powers That Be,” Angel corrected.

“Them. Dru was going to use her as a big battery for the power of the gods. Eve would have been like the Energizer Bunny, ‘just keeps going and going.’ They had to kill Eve to get the power, but it was only temporary.”

“So they made her a vampire,” he ventured.

She nodded with diffuculty, “We had to stake her. I’m sure you know what it’s like with Doyle.” She burst into tears, “I miss her.”

He ran to her and put his arm around her. This was his Buffy, the one that was scared and vulnerable. Not the one who had been with Spike; the one who would cry in his arms. “It’s okay,” he soothed.

“It’s not!” she wailed. “She couldn’t even defend herself. And she was our only link to seeing the future.”

“I felt the same way when I lost Doyle.” He forced Buffy’s tearstained face to look into his eyes, “But I went to the Powers, and they told me that when they shut one door, another opens.”

“Another opens?” Buffy lifted her eyes.

“I got a new seer, Cordelia.”

She recoiled in shock, “Cordy can see the future? Now that gives me the wiggins.” Buffy thought for a second,"How did she-”

The door opened, and Spike staggered in. “Forgot my coat,” he slurred, not really seeing them. He focused on Buffy for a second, “Buffy, I-” Spike’s eyes unexpectedly rolled back in his head, and he collapsed on the floor, shaking uncontrollably.

“Spike!” Buffy yelled, springing from the bed.

A thought suddenly occurred to Angel, “Wait!” He caught Buffy’s arm, “Who was the last person to touch Eve while she was alive?”

She tried to pull away, but Angel held her fast, “Spike. Why does that matter?”

“Cordelia was the last person to touch Doyle, and she was passed his power,” Angel said urgently.

“You mean that Spike is now the Voice?” she gaped when he let her go. “Then this shaking thing is. . .”

“Normal,” Angel finished for her.

Buffy cradled Spike’s quaking head in her lap. “How long do these last?”

“It depends. Usually less than a minute.”

They watched Spike spasm on the floor in silence for a few more seconds. As quickly as it had come, the twitching stopped, and Buffy sighed in relief.

Spike sat bolt upright, “We have to get out of here.”

“We do? Why?” Buffy asked, worry evident in her voice.

“No, not you.” Spike shook his head, pointing at Angel, “Us. The Initiative is coming here.”

“How do you know?” Buffy said urgently.

“Don’t know, but I know I won’t be able to even touch them.”

“I can stop them.” Buffy set her jaw, and Angel was amazed to see her willing to harm other humans, or what he assumed were humans.

Kissing her softly, Spike replied, “No, luv. Riley’s with them, and you can’t stop them all.” His pupils dilated, “They’re coming up the stairs.” His tone was flat.

“What’s the Initiative?” Angel wondered as Spike pushed him toward the window.

“The local on-campus inhuman hunters. They’re responsible for Spike’s human-free diet. He escaped before they could do worse,” she added, shutting and locking the door. She turned her stereo on loudly.

“And that wanker you used to date is their leader!” Spike commented, climbing out the window after Angel. “Ready?” he shot a look at Angel.

Angel nodded, “Ready.”

“Good luck,” Buffy planted a peck on Angel’s forehead and gave a much longer one to Spike’s lips.

“Gotta go, Slayer,” Spike said heavily, gripping Angel’s wrist and jumping off to the ground two stories below.

They landed hard, but rolled to their feet. “Come on,” Spike yelled, racing toward the darkened campus green. Angel gave chase, unaware of where they were heading.

Spike stopped abruptly in the path. They were near the brightly lit Delta Theta frat house at which a party was going full swing. “Willow and Cordelia are in there. The Initiative boys can’t get us in there. Too many witnesses.”

“How do you know Cordelia and Willow are in there?”

“If I knew I’d tell you,” Spike answered and then said, “Well, actually, I probably wouldn’t.”

“Why were you coming back to the room?” Angel wanted to judge the extent of Spike’s Seeing powers.

“Okay, I’ll share. I was halfway out the dorm when I realized I left my duster. It wouldn’t have been much of a bother ‘cept I needed to go back to the room and get it.”

“But how did you know about the Initiative?” Angel pushed.

“Hell if I know. During that shaking thing, I saw them with that bloke Riley leading them. And then I felt them. I just knew we were being hunted.”

“You’re taking this very well,” Angel commented.

“This is Sunnyhell, if I didn’t accept things by now I would have staked myself.”

Angel grabbed Spike’s shoulder, angry at his flippancy. “Do you have any idea how serious your situation is?”

Shoving him off roughly, Spike raised his chin, “Look Poofy, I was planning to have a good shag tonight with my new and very dangerous girlfriend. That would have been the most unsupernatural thing to happen this week. But since that plan is pretty much shot, I’m rolling with the punches. I’m hired muscle here; I trust the Watcher and the Slayer’s groupies to figure out my problems later.”

“You trust them?” Angel coughed in disbelief. “When did that happen?”

“Not sure exactly. It could have been when they stopped me from killing myself. Or it was the time I saved a seer. How about when I started staking every vampire that crossed my path. Maybe it happened when I slept with my own natural enemy, the Slayer. Contrary to common opinion, the groupies do have their uses.”

“Like?” Angel couldn’t wait to hear this.

“For starters, they are alive and bleeding. Secondly, they keep the Slayer happy. And other than their odd ability to get the right answer against all odds, they are also, as we will now demonstrate, so brutally normal that they provide excellent cover against the demon-hunting Initiative.” He started forward to the doors of the house.

Angel fell in step, “So you do this often?”

“On occasion,” Spike stated shortly, and Angel got the distinct idea that he should drop that line of questioning. Spike reached the door and motioned for Angel to enter. “By the way, we’re friends visiting Willow. Breathe a word about me and Buffy, and I’ll stake you. Got it?”

“Crystal,” Angel confirmed.

“Always nice to know. Now into the lion’s den.” They stepped into the house.

“Why did you make me change my clothes?” Willow yelled over the music at Cordelia.

Cordelia checked Willow’s altered outfit and look, allowing herself a genuine smile at the improved product. After agreeing to go to the party, Cordelia took Willow directly to Angel’s car and made some changes. First they had switched Willow’s mini-T with a black slinky top. The additional twists Cordelia had added and the darkened make-up gave an alluring almost witchy look to the previously much plainer Willow. “Because I was not going anywhere with someone wearing thrift store clothes. Besides, do you really have any complaints?” She added.

In all honesty, Willow shouldn’t have had any complaints since, upon entering, they had been mobbed by fraternity guys. Something just seemed to attract them. Whether it was Willow’s mysterious smoky look or her own stunning personality, Cordelia couldn’t say. Currently they were lounging on a sofa, surrounded by a large group of males. A few females wandered around the fringe, obviously annoyed with the unexpected competition of these two new beauties. *Tough luck,* thought Cordelia. *I wasn’t the Queen of Sunnydale High for nothing.*

Leaning back against someone’s arm, probably a Jason, Cordelia asked a question that she’d been thinking on, “Hey, are you sure Oz would be into me letting you do this?”

Willow stopped mid-grin, “He doesn’t have a say since he left.”

“He left?! I saw him a few months back during that jewelry problem. He seemed fine,” Cordelia said, recalling the last time she’d seen Oz was when he helped them with the Gem of Amara.

“Let’s say he had to answer the call of the wild,” Willow revealed mournfully.

“Oh bummer.” And she really meant it, dating a werewolf must have been tough. That was one reason she tried to stick within her own species. She hadn’t succeeded because Doyle had been half demon, even if she found out only in the very end. “But there are so many eligible guys here.” To demonstrate she winked at a blonde who responded by sidling up to her.

“True,” Willow agreed and engaged a guy sitting next to her in conversation.

After some dancing, they returned to their sofa. Their group of admirers offered them their choices of alcohol, but both turned it down. While she had no idea what Willow’s motivation was, Cordelia did not drink because she had seen the crutch it had become for Doyle and his visions.

“Willow, where have you been hiding this friend?” A handsome dark-haired boy asked. Cordelia gave him a suggestive smile which he returned. He was one of the cuter guys in the crowd, and he appeared to be an upperclassmen.

To Cordelia’s surprise, Willow clutched Cordelia’s arm and said in a very cold voice, “This is my cousin, Cordelia. She’s off limits to you, Parker.”

Parker paid no attention to Willow’s comment. “Are you single?”

A cold hand clamped down on Cordelia’s shoulder and a voice more frigid than Willow’s replied, “Not in this lifetime, mate.”

Cordelia spun around to see Spike’s blonde head. Before she could protest in any way, she spotted Angel behind him. Angel gave her a slight nod, signaling her to along with the game.

“I remember you,” Parker came closer to Spike. “You were with that blonde Harmony or something. I heard you were like an alcoholic.”

“Funny, I heard you were just voted UC Sunnydale male slut. I guess breaking the record for laying the most freshmen does entitle you to some bragging rights. Oh, how’s the syphilis treating you these days?”

Cocking a fist, Parker advanced on Spike, “What did you say, you dumb Brit?”

From behind, Angel caught Parker’s fist and said, “We don’t need any trouble. Spike and I came to collect our girlfriends for a little dancing.” He ducked as Parker swung at him with the other fist. Angel slapped him with a short left that dropped Parker to the floor. He glared at Angel and Spike darkly, but made no move to continue the fight.

Angel had only used a small portion of his real strength, Cordelia knew, or there would have been broken bones. The fact that Angel was in complete control of his temper was a sign there was no immediate danger.

“That’s taken care of,” Spike concluded, pulling Cordelia to her feet. “Do be a luv, and dance with us.”

Seeing Willow rise and head to the dance floor with Angel, Cordelia wrapped her arms around Spike and said, “Sure, darling.”

“Better luck next time, mates,” Spike called over his shoulder to her disappointed admirers.

They headed toward the dance floor and started moving to a slow beat. Cordelia examined her new ‘boyfriend’ critically. He was a handsome devil all right, devil being the key word, all dressed up in black leather and red silk. He was missing his customary duster which was strange since good side or bad side, Spike seemed to wear it wherever he went. His arms, she had to admit, felt very comfortable, and being held by him cleared the clutter in her head.

“Okay, nice to see you and Angel have the good cop, bad cop act down. I have three simple questions. One: why are you and Angel here? Two: what’s up with Parker? And third and most important: why in the Hell did you date Harmony? I saw her die at Graduation!”

“Die is too strong of a word, don’t you think? She’s living the undead high life as we speak. I was with her only for a little bit while the Slayer dated Parker, who, by the by, is a complete wanker. He ditched her after he got what he wanted.” There was some definite lingering resentment in his voice.

Buffy getting laid and dumped right away? Sweet trusting Buffy had gotten the short end of the stick on that one. “Now about the you being here thing?”

“Turns out, true to Sunnyhell form, there’s this group of dumb humans that hunt and experiment on non-humans.”

“Oh, is that how you lost your ‘grr?’” Cordelia had been wondering about that. All she’d heard was that he was on their side now. “Did you get a soul? Its that I think you would have a hard time living all eternity, or even a month, without getting any . . .” Her voice trailed off as she realized what she said and to whom.

He laughed, annoying her, “Hell, no. No soul for me. I’m enough the poof as it is without one.” He licked his sharp canines, “And yes, I still get some, often.”

“Who? It’s gotta be with humans!” Cordelia forced herself to shut up.

“Not telling,” Spike danced them in a circle and said, “My, aren’t they cute?”

She turned to see Angel and Willow wrapped together in the slow music. They were a cute couple, Angel dark and as usual brooding, and Willow standing out against him like a flame. Together they oozed some kind of aura of mystery and danger. Cordelia gave herself another mental pat on the back again for Willow’s transformation. The two were certainly a striking couple, maybe the hottest couple on the floor with the possible exception of herself and Spike. She felt a pang of grief as she wondered how Doyle would have felt in her arms. Spike was all muscle and flair, but from their conversation, he had to belong to someone else.

“Nice to see Red not mopping over the wolf,” Spike broke into her thoughts and looked down at her. “You need to stop grieving though.”

Cordelia jerked back, “What did you say?” *How had he known?*

“You're grieving, any idolt can see that. It’s been, what, a few months now? Would he want you to torture yourself like that?” Spike sounded very sincere.

“How do you know how I feel? I don’t even let Angel know how I still miss Doyle.” She remembered Barney the empath demon had talked to her like that. “When did you get so sensitive?”

“Eve. She felt enough for everyone. I think the Powers made her like that.” Spike focused into the distance, "Sometimes I think they got me too. Cordelia, only worse.”

His words echoed in Cordelia’s mind. The vision, the familiar voice, the hand on Buffy’s shoulder. It all clicked. “You!” she said in a strangled tone, now understanding Spike’s attitude toward Parker. “You’re sleeping with Buffy?”

Spike gave her a look of total despair, “What is it with you people? Can anything stay secret around here?”

“You are sleeping with Buffy!” she repeated louder this time.

“Stow it,” he snarled. “Willow doesn’t know. Neither does the Watcher, Xander, or demon-girl. How did you know about me and her?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m a seer. I inherited Doyle’s power because I was the last one to touch him.”

Spike froze where he was dancing, “I was the last person to touch Eve.”

“You were? That’s cool. Now I have someone to compare migraines with, even if you are an ancient undead guy.”

“Great, now I’m on the same level as the stupid cheerleader.” Cordelia stepped back in hurt at his words, but so did he, wincing like he had been hurt too. “Sorry, Cordelia. I didn’t mean that.” He paused, "Some bloody way, hurting your feelings also hurt me.” He dragged her toward Willow and Angel. “I can’t take this anymore; we’re getting out of here.”

“Red, time to go. I was going to wait for tomorrow, but now I can’t,” Spike closed his eyes briefly, and Cordelia almost could see him extend his calm outward. *I don’t do that,* she thought as she felt herself relax. “The stormtroppers aren’t around. Now is our chance to high-tail it to the Watcher’s.”

Angel raised a questioning eyebrow at Cordelia. She held up her hands, “Hey, he’s the one. He knows about me now, plus I think he got some add-ons, as in CD player, cigarette lighter add-ons.”

“Whatever,” Spike said. “Like the mouthy one says, ‘let’s rock and roll.’”

Willow giggled, “Oh, the wisdom of Xander.”

Buffy watched the two vampires land in the grass below her window and breathed a sigh of relief. As she closed the window, she hoped that between the two of them they could elude the Initiative without killing each other. Maybe Spike’s new ability to See the future would come through. Even if it did, she had better try not to anger Riley too much. He was a top dog in the little secret agent hierarchy. It wasn’t that she disliked him now; it was just that with Spike as competition Riley couldn’t compare. She also couldn’t feel bad about choosing Spike over Riley. All she did was date Riley for a little bit; there had never been any commitment on either party.

Someone knocked on her door. She answered it and, true to Spike’s prediction, it was Riley with a group of seven guys behind him.

“Hi Buffy,” he said, scanning the room for any other occupants. He faced his companions, “No bats in this room. I’ll check, but you go on ahead.” Apparently that was some sort of code because his friends departed quickly. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, it’s not like you need to be invited,” she said innocently, sitting in her chair that had Spike’s duster on it.

He hadn’t missed her thinly veiled reference to vampires. “So you know why I’m here,” Riley stated.

“No. Why are you here?” She fiddled with her radio. He was going to have to accuse her of something; she wasn’t going to say anything unless he said it.

“I don’t get it Buffy. You tell me you’re the Slayer, yet we find two hostile STs in here. One was even Hostile 17. But when we get up here, they’re gone. I don’t see any dust so they must have left. Why were they here, and why did you let them go?”

She spun her chair, leaning against Spike’s comforting leather jacket. “Has it ever occurred to you that not all non-humans are bad?”

"What?” Riley stared at her like she’d sprouted wings and flew away.

“And what do you classify as non-humans, so later I can make sure I avoid any?” Buffy asked, growing angry with his unquestioning obedience to the Initiative. She rapidly forgot her resolution to stay friendly.

“Well, they’re vampires, demons, werewolves, or anything else that is superhuman,” Riley said uneasily.

“Care to vague that up a little more? Cause according to that, I’m not human.”

“Our scans classified you as one hundred percent human,” Riley assured her.

“You scanned me!” Buffy was outraged. “The fact that I have a twenty foot vertical or that I can bench five hundred pounds is normal? I’ve met witches, slayers, seers, vampires, werewolves, and demons. There were some good and some bad, but according to you, they are all dangerous non-humans.”

Riley was taken aback for a second. Regaining his composure he pressed on, “Who were those two vampires?”

"Remember how I told you I dated older guys? Doesn't two centuries classify as an older guy?"

“You and a vampire?” Riley choked out.

“Surprised? Think how many normal human guys came away with bruises from making out with me. When I told you I dated older guys, I meant it.”

“But you’re not a vampire now. I thought they didn’t let people live.”

“He was very special; he loved me. He had a soul that wouldn’t let him feed.” Buffy thought back to what Angel and she had had. It was so sad and sweet. “He moved away so I could have a ‘normal’ life without him.” She looked pointedly at Riley, “He has a soul. It makes him good, and he fights crime. Would you have caught him, too, with all those innocents depending on him for protection?

She watched her words hit home and saw he had no defense to them. Struggling to stay undistracted, Riley choose a new target, “Why did he have his ‘son’ here. His ‘son’ was Hostile 17, and our research indicates that vampires don’t have strong family ties. Besides, I saw Hostile 17 in the labs, and I think the odds of him having a soul are pretty low.”

Buffy shook her head, “He doesn’t have a soul, but I’m coming to realize maybe he doesn’t need one.” Buffy was surprised that she was saying exactly how she felt. “He tells me that we are enemies, but he’s saved my life more times that I can count. And he personally helped prevent the end of the world three different times.”

“You’re kidding, aren’t you? Creatures without souls are animals!” Riley protested vehemently.

“As one of my recently departed friends said often, ‘Evil done by good hands is still evil, and good done by evil hands is still good.’” Her mind flashed to Eve, and Buffy could now see that Eve would not have been considered human by the Initiative. She looked at Riley very seriously, “I am the Slayer, and it is my job to protect the innocent, human or not, from the forces of darkness, human or not, who would prey on them. I’ll do it until the day I die and another is called. If you cannot accept that, I want you to leave now and don’t come back.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he stared at her, the hurt almost touching her heart. Almost though, what he had said about non-humans threatened nearly all of her friends.

She stood and patted him on the cheek, “You see why we could never have worked? I’m one of those supernatural creatures. Think about it, I’m the first to survive over four years on the job in four hundred years.”

“I thought we could be together, fighting evil,” he pleaded.

“No. Your evil and my evil don’t mix. There is so much that you can’t see. I watched my worst enemy try to beat me to death with a board, and I saw this same enemy rescue a human girl from other monsters. A friend of mine tried to eat me once, but he also took a bullet for me too.” She shrugged, remembering Oz the werewolf and Oz in Careers. “My life is all uncertain. I could die tomorrow, or ten years from now. I can’t be sure. But I am sure of one thing, there is no us.”

“No. I don’t understand,” Riley said, stepping out the door. “We could make it work. You could join us and help us.”

“Never gonna happen. I’m sorry,” She prepared to close the door and paused, “Oh, and if you and your friends come near me or my friends, I will make you regret it.” She closed the door.

“This way,” Spike motioned urgently, wondering why he was leading the group.

“I don’t get it,” Cordelia said loudly, stepping over a shrub. “I thought you said the stormtroppers weren’t around.” The four of them had been creeping their way to the Watcher’s house. Since departing from the campus, Spike had become very uncomfortable as if he was supposed to be doing something. There was something out there in the dark that was very dangerous. It flickered by the bare edges of his consciousness, one step from comprehension.

Willow and Angel at least had the sense to be silent. The group continued forward at a snail’s pace. Spike halted and turned, walking in a southwesterly orientation. He had no real idea why he was going on that heading. It was like he was being pulled over there.

“Um, Spike?” Willow called out tentatively. “Giles’s house is the other way.” She pointed a thumb in the opposite direction. “This is how you get to the cemetery.”

Her innocent comment grated on his already stretched nerves. “Don’t you think I know?! I’m the leader right now, and I say this is where we need to go.”

They moved on, following Spike’s new trajectory. Upon arriving at the graveyard, Angel questioned, “Any particular reason why we’re here?”

*Demons,* a voice whispered.

“What?” Spike yelled at the voice.

“I said, any particular reason why we’re here?” Angel repeated.

*Demons. Cheating hearts,* the voice said softly.

“Demons, huh?” Spike tried again.

*To find and punish the unfaithful.*

“Who’s been unfaithful?” Spike was saying when his ability to focus was taken away. An outside force forced his body stiff. Without his command, he took three steps forward to the cemetery wall. A glimpse of something big and dark crossed through his vision. It had huge arms with teeth easily the size of his head. As swiftly as he had lost control, he was back in the driver’s seat again.

“Spike, did you notice you went into a little trance there?” Cordelia said, “I know you got all that new stuff in your head, but not even I do that talking to voices thing.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Willow walked to him.

“No,” he hooked one of her arms and jerked them both to the left.

Barely in time because a huge dark shape hurdled the wall to land in their recently vacated space. Looking down at them from its fifteen-foot height, it eyed them calculatingly. Black scales gleamed dully in the moonlight, and it closed its giant clawed fists in anticipation. Its long spiky tail waved warningly at them.

“I think that is a bad guy,” Cordelia managed. “He so needs a manicure.”

“Prob - Probably a demon,” Willow croaked from behind Spike.

Spike raised his fists, “Well, Swamp thing, killing people is not very friendly, even if they were unfaithful.”

“Cordy, how does he know that?” Angel said through the side of his mouth.

“A seer thing, I hope,” Cordelia replied.

“Come on, bloke,” Spike taunted, “Let’s see who has bigger wrinklies.”

The demon stretched out one eight-foot long arm and swiped experimentally at him. Spike growled, shifting into his game face. His canines elongated to their razor sharp length of two inches. The demon roared at him, revealing a mouthful of needle keen foot-long teeth.

It charged him. Pushing Willow off to the side, Spike held his ground until the last possible second. He dodged the monster’s claws, allowing it to crash into the wall. The demon righted itself and turned to swing at him like he was a pesky little fly.

“Peaches, some back-up would make this a little less cozy,” Spike commented to Angel while ducking one of the powerful arms. Dancing in and out of its reach seemed to frustrate the demon, but he knew that if he let up for a second he’d regret it.

Angle threw a stake at the demon, momentarily distracting it from its intended prey. “Hey, how about two targets?” he shouted.

The stake bounced harmlessly off the armored scales. “Lot of bloody help that was,” Spike bit out.

“It worked,” Angel retorted, putting his game face on and joining the fray.

The demon was now decidedly confused. It had two fast and annoying targets at its front. The two vampires dodged and bobbed trying to avoid death by staying ahead of its arms. Their efforts were somewhat successful till it whipped its long tail around, knocking Angel down.

“Bloody Hell,” Spike cursed. He wasn’t on the best of terms with his sire, but Buffy would stake him if he let Poofy get it. A massive arm crashed down, missing Angel by inches. That was the moment Spike chose to act, while its focus was on the fallen. “Red, fire. Get it ready,” he called over his shoulder.

Spike ran directly at the black demon and jumped. Relying on his vampire enhanced power to leap the fifteen feet, he delivered a flying kick to its mammoth jaw. Bones crunched, some his own, some the demon’s teeth. In pain it backhanded him into the cemetery wall. More bones cracked on impact, and Spike rolled painfully onto his stomach. He tried to rise, but his right leg was too broken to support him.

Howling in agony from finally being injured, the demon lumbered toward him, intent on the kill. Spike eyed it wearily, showing his teeth in defiance. Still howling, the monster raised its tail for the fatal blow.

“Yoo hoo!” Cordelia yelled. “Remember the manicure?” The monster turned to see Angel on his feet by Cordelia and Willow. “Well, it’s on me.” Angel hurled a bottle of nail polish at the demon.

Willow pointed and uttered on harsh word in Latin. A stream of fire shot from her index finger to engulf the demon in flame. The polish combusted instantly lighting the demon. It screamed in pain before the fire swiftly consumed it.

“Wow,” Willow gasped. “I just fried a demon.” Her voice became jubilant, “I just fried a demon.” She began to jump up and down.

“I should have known, that was my Urban Sludge,” Cordelia examined her unpainted nails mournfully.

Angel sniffed the air, “I smell people in there. You two take care of Spike.” He vaulted over the wall and into the cemetery.

“Willow, how did you know that fire thing would work?” Cordelia asked.

“Oh, I saw Buffy do it last week to a fungus demon.”

“Then how did Spike know you could make fire,” Cordelia helped Spike up to his feet.

“No idea. I learned that one yesterday,” Willow replied, holding up his other arm. “Well?” she directed at Spike.

“Dunno,” he said shortly as he tried to put weight on his right leg. “Just knew.”

“Alot of that going around,” Angel said, landing back on the ground. “There are two new corpses in there.”

“Shouldn’t have been unfaithful,” Spike rolled his eyes.

“Come again,” Cordelia requested.

“I bet a jealous girlfriend wished something bad on them. Kinda an Anya thing. Wishes and all.” Cordelia stiffened and Spike went on, “Can we go now? My leg hurts a bit.”

“Poor Spike,” Angel laughed. “Do you think you’ll need a wheelchair?”

“No! Not even if you stake me first!”

They headed toward Giles’s the fastest way possible. As they walked, Cordelia raised a question, “The fungus demon. What did Buffy use, seeing that we had nail polish and magic.”

“A burning stake,” Willow answered, “And nail polish remover.”

“That’s so Buffy,” Cordelia commented. “Then again, we perfected it.”

Spike shook his head, “Legions of darkness, bow before the mighty forces of fashion.” Cordelia stared at him before understanding it was a joke. She laughed, and the group continued on its way.

{Next}