We got back a couple of hours ago. The apartment is quiet, and I assume Wes and Gina are already asleep.

Not me. I can't. No, that's not true, my eyes are heavy, and I know that as soon as I let my guard down, I'll sleep. But I can't let that happen. I'm terrified that if I do, I'll forget about him again.

I know the bubble bath is supposed to stop that happening, and I had a good long soak before I came to bed, but I can't help it. I felt so close to him this past week. I know, it hasn't all been good, and a lot of it has been painful, but it was worth it to feel him in my life again. And what wouldn't I do to have him here, now, holding me, soothing away my terror?

I haven't really relaxed since the moment the plane took off. I just kept thinking about him, about what we've learned so far, trying to make sure that I wasn't forgetting, panicking when I realised I couldn't recall some minute detail.

I haven't slept well since Wes' news. Well, that's hardly surprising. Among all the bombshells I've had dropped on me, it's right up there with the big ones. Like the prophecy that said I was going to die. Or like the fact that I had to send Angel to hell. Or that the only way to save the world was to kill my little sister.

Sometimes I just hate whoever it is who decides what I've got to face next. When Wes said those words, so soon after the knowledge that Spike could come back, there was just this sense of normality. I mean, the Slayer doesn't get what she wants, what she needs. There's always this huge price to pay.

The prospect of Spike spending eternity in hell makes my insides turn to ice-water. It's just so unfair - he died to save the world, so he deserves heaven, doesn't he? I mean, I did it too, I died to save the world, so I should know.

Wes didn't come up with much more before we left. To tell the truth, he's been itching to get back to W&H since Willow's bubble-magic, desperate to try it out. I'm just surprised he didn't go straight into the office tonight, although I'm certain he'll be up and out very early in the morning.

I don't know what I'm going to do tomorrow. I don't have to go back to the office until Monday morning, but I'm going to go mad sitting around here waiting to hear something. I always hated this bit, the waiting, the not understanding. For the first time since I left the crater that Sunnydale became, I wish I could just go and patrol - dust a few vampires, decapitate a few demons. If this goes on much longer, maybe I'll do just that, even if it means breaking my agreement with Angel that LA was 'his town'.

My eyes are closing, and try as I might, I can't resist it any more. Still, I'm not going to sleep. I'm just going to lie here with my eyes closed, and think about him.

~~~~~

As soon as I open my eyes, I know I've slept. It's daylight. The sun is filtering through the curtains, and it's morning. I glance at my clock, and realise it's already late. I remember trying so desperately not to sleep last night. I go through an internal check list, to make sure I remember him. Spike. It's all there, the good and the bad. I say a little mental thank you to Willow.

She went home before the rest of us left, but she's going to keep in touch, and, as soon as I find an apartment of my own, she's going to come and visit. Thinking about that, I decide to get up and check the newspaper for apartments. Of course, then I realise that the delivery hasn’t restarted since our time away, so I’m going to have to go out and get one.

Gina's in the kitchen when I go through.

"Wes left early, huh?" I ask.

Gina nods, her expression resigned. "He was gone by five. He said to tell you that he won't be calling if he finds something, in case the call is overheard. This apartment should be safe, though. He made a point of having it 'spyproofed' when we moved in - because he still didn't trust everyone at W&H."

"Your husband's a very wise man."

"I know. He makes me feel … safe. And I never thought I'd feel that again."

I nod, remembering when I first met Gina. And I have to agree with her assessment. You do feel safe with Wes around. Not safe in the way that he could stop an apocalypse or anything, more like he’s just this solid presence, someone you know you can rely on. A bit like I used to feel about Giles. Before … No, I’m not going to think about that right now. I think back to what Gina said.

"Don’t tell me you married him just to feel safe,” I tease, knowing nothing could be further from the truth.

She blushes under my direct gaze.

"No, that was more along the lines of being a gift with purchase."

You wouldn’t think someone with Gina’s complexion would blush easily, but she does, and she looks so cute.

"Oh," Gina changes the subject. "This came for you while we were away. It was between some of our mail, but I didn’t notice until I started opening it this morning."

She hands me an envelope. My hands shake slightly as I recognise the elaborate handwriting. It's from Angel. I tell myself not to be silly. Angel's the man I shared an apartment and a bed with until a short while ago. But it doesn't help, I still get this strong sense of foreboding from it. I open it quickly, desperate to have it proved harmless.

I feel almost sick as I read the note. I thought I'd been clear when I spoke to him. I thought he'd understood. I didn't have any doubts then, and I've even less reason to doubt my decision now.

I'm torn between sadness and blazing anger. Sure, I'm sad that he's still hoping where there isn't any hope. But more than that, I'm furious that he thinks he knows me better than I do. It makes me feel that he's treating me like a child again. Like a sixteen-year-old who doesn't know what she really wants. Like when he left me 'for my own good'.

Gina's been looking at me while I read the note, and then watching my reaction. I don't trust myself to speak, so I just hand her the note. When she finishes reading, she reaches out her hand to me.

"What're you going to do?"

"About the note? I don't know. I really want to just ignore it. There's no way I'm going to go and live in a W&H apartment, and definitely not one so close to him. And where does he get off trying to outguess my feelings?"

"It's worrying, though."

I consider what she means.

"You think he's trying to make sure I don't start finding out about Spike, don't you? The whole 'living in a company apartment' thing?"

"Well, if he knows about the memory spell, he could be worried that you remembered something. And he could want you where he can keep an eye on you."

"It's possible," I admit. I don't want to consider the fact that he's been involved in all this, but it's a possibility I can't afford to overlook. It just makes me feel so … stupid, and used.

I shake my head. "I'll have to think about the note, but one thing I don't have to think about is the need to find my own apartment. I was going to go out and pick up a newspaper, check out the ads. Anything you want while I'm out?"

"Well, we're kinda low on milk," she offers. "I need to go to the market, but I'd like to have a long, lazy morning first."

"Fine, I'll get some milk, and then we can go to the market later. Anything else for now?"

She grins at me.

"Well, I've got this notion for doughnuts. Jelly ones, I think."

I smile back. At times like this, sugar is my friend.

"Milk and doughnuts coming up, then."

I try to put Angel and the note out of my mind as I get what we need, but I can't. It's just like Angel on so many levels. Even if he's completely innocent of whatever's going on with Spike, he would still want me close. It was only the risk of losing his soul that kept him away from me before. He told me as much. And I certainly didn't get any spidey-sense tingle when we were together. I didn't have any suspicion that he was plotting something. But then, with the resources of W&H at his disposal, he's capable of just about anything.

I get back to the apartment to the smell of fresh coffee. I join Gina in the kitchen, placing a box of assorted doughnuts on the table. We spend a while just pigging out on sugar, and laughing, both of us pretending there's nothing going wrong.

When I've washed the sugar from my fingers, I start to look through the ads. I'm just about to give up when I see one which causes me to smile. It's only five minutes from where I am now, and I'm pretty sure I even know the building. It's close to my office, and a long way from Angel. It's got three bedrooms, and that's even better. I make a note of the number, then pass the paper to Gina.

She nods as she reads it.

"It looks great," she admits. "But am I selfish to approve mainly because it's so close to here?"

"No, of course not. Unless I'm being selfish for the same reason?"

"I'll call first thing in the morning," I promise. "Even if it's gone, I'll see if there's anything else around here. I've decided this is definitely a good neighbourhood."

~~~~~

When Wes comes home later, he has no news. He’s found some corroboration, but that’s all. The bad news is that he’s also found a problem around the time-scale.

He and Willow worked out we had five weeks until the alignment which would consign Spike to Hell, but now it turns out it’s not so simple. Apparently, among those who wrote about the amulet, there were a number of dialects. And guess what? There were four separate stars which all had the same name, depending on the dialect. They all come into alignment within the next few months, but one of them is due in just over two weeks from now. He needs to analyse the whole text with a fine-tooth comb to work out which dialect was being used, and therefore which star it refers to.

~~~~~

I dreamt of Spike last night. I can’t remember the detail, but I woke this morning feeling that strange mixture of happiness and loss that sometimes follows an especially happy dream. I get up and get ready for work, and my impatience at not knowing how to help Spike is tempered by the afterglow of the dream. It’s almost as if he’s done it on purpose, giving me something to keep me from tearing my hair out.

I manage to make some time in my calendar to go and see the apartment at noon. It looks to be exactly what I want, even if it's a little more expensive than I'd been thinking about. And it’s twice the rent of the one Angel ‘offered’ me. Still, business is good, and I can afford it, so I agree on the spot. The agent offers to draw up the paperwork and have it ready for signing by the end of the day.

I go back to the office feeling better than ever. I know it's not actually doing anything to help Spike, but it's made me feel better to find myself somewhere to live that's just for me.

Gina's pleased when I tell her that everything's settled. We're chatting about furnishings when Wes eventually comes in.

He looks tired. His skin seems a little yellow, and he has dark shadows under his eyes. I'm desperate to hear if he's found anything, but I know I'm intruding, so I get up and go into the kitchen to start dinner. That’s the one down side of living with them – the fact that they don’t get to be alone as much as they should. Still, it won’t be for much longer.

I was so disappointed last night when he said he’d not found anything, although he was pretty sure he knew where to look.

Gina comes in a while later, and tells me to go and speak to Wes.

I go towards Wes' room, and my heart's in my mouth.

"Buffy," he acknowledges as I enter.

"What is it? What did you find?"

"Oh, more corroboration, mainly. There's not too much new information yet. What I have found is the original intention behind giving Angel the amulet.”

“I thought we knew that. It was to help defeat the First.”

“Well, no. That’s what happened, but only because you changed the rules.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You chose Spike as your champion.”

I make the logical jump to what had been intended.

“They thought Angel would be my champion.”

“Exactly.”

“But, surely that wouldn’t have made any difference?”

“Well, someone thinks it would. Two differences to be exact. Firstly, the plan wasn’t to defeat the First, more to stall it. I’m still not sure of the exact details, and without knowing who was behind it, I’m not sure I’ll ever make sense of it. The other part of the plan was to control Angel.”

“How?”

“Again, the details aren’t too clear, but it has to do with the controller. When it’s used to bring back the bearer of the amulet, it’s possible to bind the soul to the will of whoever has the controller. That was the key part of the plan. Someone, and I assume it was one of the Senior Partners, wanted to have Angel in charge of W&H, but wanted to completely control him.”

Ok, the controlling Angel thing is too much for me to take in right now.

“Why was the result different because I chose Spike?”

“As far as I can tell, it’s largely because of their souls. Angel’s had his for a long time. And during that time, he’s done a number of things that, well, he shouldn’t be too proud of. Spike hadn’t had his for long, and apart from when he was under the control of the First, I’d imagine he’d been, well, behaving himself.”

“So, Spike’s soul was, what, clean? Is that what you’re saying? And Angel’s wasn’t?”

“Putting it simply, yes. The power generated by Spike’s soul was enough to seal the Hellmouth. That wasn’t expected.”

“Ok. So, why hasn’t whoever-it-is used the controller to bring back Spike?”

“I assume it’s because there’s no reason to do it. There might even be an element of revenge involved. He did wreck the plan.”

“But, that would mean that Angel’s ok? He wouldn’t be part of a plan to control himself, would he?”

“No, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t know something. I did find traces of information that’re hidden behind a higher security clearance than I knew existed. That could mean Angel, or it could go straight to a Senior Partner.”

“So, could you do with someone who’s into major mojo who can also do a mean bit of hacking?”

“Willow?”

“Yeah. I signed the paperwork after work today. I move into my new apartment next week, and I’m going to ask her to visit.”

“It’ll be risky, but I haven’t got any better idea.”

Willow got here earlier, and helped me move into my apartment. Well, when I say helped me move in, we carried the things I had at Wes and Gina's from the car. Now, I'm just waiting for some furniture to be delivered, and I can make it feel more like home.

Willow's in the kitchen. She's setting up some spells she'll need for tonight. She's not wasting any time, and I'm just so grateful. This uncertainty about the timing of things is so hard to take, and the first of the supposed deadlines is uncomfortably close.

Unfortunately, the computer system which holds the most confidential of W&H information isn't connected to anything outside of the building, so she's going to have to go in there. Wes has managed to get her clearance under an assumed name as a potential assistant for him, with the cover story that she can't get there before this evening. It's going to be hard enough without having anyone looking over their shoulders, and Wes is determined that he doesn't want anyone getting hurt if he can help it.

The bad news is that I'm staying here. I want to go with them, but I've been persuaded that it'll only add to the danger. My face is known to enough people there that it's just an added risk. Gina's offered to come over and help me while they're gone, but the truth is she wants the company as much as I do.

The first of the deliveries arrives, and I'm pulled from my thoughts by the need to direct that. Fortunately, it's the beds - two of them to start with, so Willow and I should be comfortable tonight. I set myself to doing the small amount of assembly that's necessary, then make up the beds. By the time I've finished, Wes and Gina arrive. We all go into the kitchen, where Willow's clearing up.

"You ready?" Wes asks.

"Just about," Willow answers. "I've covered as many possibilities as I can think of, but until I know what we might need, it's hard. Still, I've got several things ready, some to clear our eyes, some to help us avoid any magickal traps there might be, and a couple of things for defensive purposes."

"Good."

"So," he continues, turning towards me. "We're going in when most people have gone home for the night. That doesn't mean the building will be deserted by any means. There's any number of people, especially in the higher echelons, who work very late, or even prefer to work overnight. Angel in particular would more than likely be in the building, and he's the one person we can't afford to meet. He'd recognise Willow and that'd give away the whole thing."

"So, what happens if you meet Angel?" I ask.

"Well, that's the biggest problem, and I've set up something to, hopefully, get him out of the building. I've got a contact in Orange County who's been watching a nest of Haggar demons for a couple of weeks. They've been in a dormant period so far, but he reckons they're about to become active. He's going to give Angel a tip off. I'm hoping he'll feel it's a big enough deal to get involved personally. Certainly, a nest of Haggar demons can do a whole lot of killing when they come out of hibernation."

"Won't he want you to be there too?" I ask.

"There was a time he would have, but not now. Now that there's Gina, he's said more than once that I should get out of the front line a bit. And it’s not as if he hasn’t got others to call on if he needs backup."

Wes pauses then, almost as if he’s puzzling over something, but then continues. "If he asks, it'll be easy enough to claim that Gina's not feeling too well, and that I might get called home at short notice."

"Sounds like we've done what we can before we get into the building," Willow says, thoughtfully. "What happens once we're inside?"

"Well, I suggest we use my office initially. If we can't get anywhere from there, we might have to try Angel's office, but I'm hoping it won't come to that."

The two of them go into some details of computer systems that are quite simply over my head, so I'm relieved when another delivery arrives.

By the time I've got that dealt with, they're ready to leave.

Gina and I set to work unpacking and arranging things, and I'm amazed at how quickly the place starts to look like home. When we've done as much as we can, we go into the kitchen and make some coffee. As we sit and drink it, both of us are thinking about Wes and Willow. It's going to be a long evening.

Gina gets up after a while, and starts pulling out some groceries she brought with her. There's chicken, and potatoes, carrots and beans, as well as a number of small packages.

"What're you doing?" I ask.

"Thought I'd put a casserole together. That way it should be good whenever they get back, and it'll help me to keep from worrying too much. Want to help?"

"You sure you want me helping?" I ask. "You know how good I am at cooking."

"You can chop vegetables, peel potatoes, that sort of thing."

I agree, and we set to work in companionable silence. When the dish is in the oven, we go into the living room and switch on the TV. It's mindless, and I'm relieved to note that Gina falls asleep quite quickly.

There's a commercial on, one I haven't seen before, and the actor has bleached blonde hair. It's all I need to switch my mind onto thoughts of Spike.

I've no memories of dreaming of Spike over the past week, although a couple of mornings I've wakened with a strange feeling of mixed well being and loss. I wish I could talk to him, wish he could help us to find what we need to bring him back. I'm terrified by the prospect of losing him forever. I smile at those words as they come into my mind. They're such a contrast to how I once felt about him, when I'd have done almost anything for him to leave, but he never did.

I can feel my eyes closing, and I know I'm going to drift off to sleep. The last thing I feel is guilt that my friends are in danger, and I'm falling asleep. It doesn't seem right. I'm the Slayer. I'm the one who's supposed to risk her life for others.

And then I hear his voice. "It's ok, Pet. They need to do this. You'll get your chance to do your bit."

I open my eyes, but there's no one there. They start to close again, and I let them, desperate to see him, but he's not there.

"Tell me what I need to do," I beg him.

"You'll know when it's time, Pet. I can't tell you what I know, and I don't have all the details anyway. I just know that there's something important in that computer system."

"Let me see you," I ask.

"Sorry, Pet. Got to go," he answers, his voice fading as he speaks.

I come awake to a persistent dinging noise, and I jump up, confused by the unfamiliar sound. It takes me a second or two to realise it's the timer on the oven that we set for a couple of hours.

I go into the kitchen, and find Gina already there, switching off the timer, and opening the oven.

"How's it doing?" I ask.

"It's ok, but it'll take a while more."

"No sign of them?"

"No, not yet. Wes said they’d be at least a couple of hours. It depends how difficult Willow finds the system."

I nod. I remember from the past. Sometimes she found it so easy to hack into a system, and sometimes, it took days. And this time, we don't have days.

Gina and I return to the living room, and I'm relieved to see there's a movie on. We settle down to watch it, but I swear that if it wasn't already familiar, I'd never be able to follow the plot. I'm tense, waiting for them to come back, starting at every unfamiliar noise, which, of course, in a new apartment means just about everything.

The ending credits of the film are rolling when I hear the door opening. I jump up, and we both run to meet them. They're looking happy, so I assume it went well. Gina throws her arms around Wes, and I follow Willow, but to my surprise, Willow goes into the bedroom where she left her things earlier. She picks up her laptop, takes it into the living room, and boots it up. She pulls a CD from her pocket, and puts it into the drive. Wes and Gina join us a moment later.

Willow's excited, her face and voice animated in the way it always is when she's achieved something. "The system in Wes' office was a dead loss. It turns out, there's a system which Angel has access to, but there doesn't seem to be access from anywhere else, that we know of at least. And it's well protected, as is Angel's office. I assume the system in his office is something he activates when he leaves, or maybe it activates on its own, but I'm glad I took some pre-prepared mojo with me. I was able to get us both in, and hopefully leave it looking as if it hadn't been tampered with. Then, there was the computer system. It was protected too, and by both conventional and magickal means. The first level of security was Angel's standard log in. It was password protected, but that was easy. His password's 'Buffy' by the way. That only gave us access to things we had seen on Wes' log in. Then we found a link to another system, and when I tried to use that, it activated some sort of spell. It was like something was just sucking the life out of us. It could've been pretty hairy if I hadn't erected a barrier fast. The cool thing is, it wouldn't cause Angel any harm, because, hey, already dead. That makes me think it might even be triggered every time someone tries to access that link, because we hadn't done anything up till then that could have alerted the system to the fact that we weren't entitled to have access."

Gina's looking pale now, and I'm feeling guilty. For Will and me to be facing danger like that, well, it's what we've been doing for so long, it just seems natural. And, even knowing that it's been part of Wes' life for a long time, it's still hard for me to imagine just how Gina must be feeling right now. Wes' arm tightens around Gina, but Willow doesn't seem to have noticed.

"Then, there was the second log in," she continues. "Now, that was tough. Multiple passwords, and some sort of convoluted set up that I just can't see Angel having the patience for. It took a long time to get into the system, and we didn't have time to read what we found, so I just copied all the files that seemed to be relevant."

We all crowd round the screen, trying to get a good view, but it's hard when you're looking at it from an angle. Willow scans through the files, opening a few, and reading her way through them.

"It's going to take a while," she apologises. "These files are huge, and some of them aren't in English. I'll copy off the disc, and let Wes have a copy to take home. That way, we can both work on it."

As Willow copies the disc, Gina suggests we eat. We all adjourn to the kitchen to pick up plates which we carry into the living room. I've got chairs there, but no table yet, so we balance our plates on our laps.

"So, Angel took the bait, then?" I ask.

"Yeah," replies Wes, "We cut it fine, though. As we pulled out of the car park, Angel's car pulled up. Willow was hiding under a blanket so he wouldn't see her."

"So, what are you going to do?" Gina demands, and I know it's got nothing to do with the quest for information about Spike.

Wes looks confused for a second, then he realises what she's talking about.

"You mean am I going to go on working for W&H?"

"Well, you always said that you'd work there while it seemed to be in your interests to do so. When you find internal systems that could kill you, I'd have thought that could be considered as no longer in your interests."

I'm surprised, because I hadn't considered the possibility that he'd want to leave W&H, but then again, I'm not surprised either. Gina's coped with the dangers inherent in Wes' job, but those so far have been external. The city is full of demons, and it's his job to help keep them under control. If the danger comes from within the company, that's another matter.

"Well, I wasn't planning on leaving immediately," he says, quietly. He's obviously not comfortable talking about it in front of Willow and me, so I suggest that we take the dirty dishes into the kitchen.

Once there, we try not to listen, but there's no door between the two rooms, so we have to settle for being noisy while loading the dishwasher and making some coffee.

So now, on top of everything else, I'm feeling guilty. Well, I already was when I saw Gina's reaction earlier. I've dragged Wes and Gina into this whole thing, and as a result, Wes is in danger. I've always felt guilty about doing that to my friends - Willow and Xander - but at least they could make their own decisions. Gina's baby hasn't had any say in this, and the idea that his or her father might be hurt …

I make up my mind to carry on with this alone. Well, if Willow's willing to help, that's fine, but, I want Wes out of it.

When the coffee's ready, we don't have any more reason to stay away, so we go back. It's obvious that the discussion's not over, and I feel another wave of guilt as it seems as if they've argued about it. I've never heard them arguing before. In fact, there's something profoundly wrong about knowing that they've disagreed enough to cause the unhappiness I see etched on their faces.

"Ok, Wes," I start. I might as well get it sorted out as soon as I can. "I really appreciate everything you've done for me so far, but that's it. If there's any danger in all this, then it's up to me to do whatever needs to be done. You can't take any more risks."

"Buffy," he replies, coldly, "Whether or not I take risks is my decision. Agreeing to work for W&H in the first place was a calculated risk. So far, it's been a risk worth taking, as the good I've been able to do has far outweighed any danger. This is the first time I've felt in any way threatened by W&H itself, and I've got to decide whether the risk has become unacceptable. I will make that decision, and I will take into account Gina's wishes, and the needs of our child. In the meantime, I will be going into the office as usual in the morning, and I will spend some time gauging the potential danger of continuing to work there. I will also take the disc Willow copied for me, and I'll work on understanding what was in those files. This isn't just about Spike now. The company I work for is doing something that I don't understand, but which I believe I would find it very hard to support. Angel may be involved, but if he isn't, he may be in some danger too. And that's without taking account of the overall aim of whatever it is that's going on. It may not be an actual apocalypse, but I'm pretty sure it's not a picnic that's being planned."

He's right, I know that, but it doesn't make me feel any less guilty. Gina doesn't even sip her coffee, and Wes drinks his quickly, and without tasting it, before he gets up and asks Gina if she's ready to go home.

When we're alone, Willow expresses her surprise.

"Gina's not happy, is she?"

"No, and she's right not to be happy. She didn't sign on for this. She hasn't ever volunteered to be one of the Scoobies. I know you and Xander didn't exactly have full disclosure before you got involved either, but you could've walked away. She can't, because it's Wes who's taking the risks. She lost so much before, and I don't think she'd survive if she lost Wes now. I don't know how she pulled herself together enough to love again after …" I pause. I remember the Gina I first met, someone who'd hidden so deeply inside herself that I didn't think she'd ever completely recover.

"But she did it, she survived, and she fell in love with Wes, and that's because she's one of the strongest people I've ever met."

"You did it too," Willow says quietly. "And so did I. You sent Angel to Hell, but you still tried to love after that. I thought my life was over when Tara was killed, and in some ways it was, but I started over again. Gina's strong, I get that. But it's got to be Wes' decision. If she doesn't let him decide for himself, it's going to ruin the relationship."

When did Willow get to be so wise? Somewhere during all that we faced in Sunnydale, and then afterwards, she's learned things you don't learn from books or online. It’s something I know too, on a professional level, but it seems kind of odd mixing it with slayage. I’m used to being the one who makes the decisions, and feeling responsible for everyone else.

Willow promises me a copy of the disc so I can take it into the office. I'm hoping that I'll be able to spend time between clients helping with the research. And I just hope they've got what Spike said was important in there somewhere.

We say goodnight and go towards our bedrooms. My first night in my apartment. I should be happy, and I am, but it's not the sort of happiness it should be. Now, if Spike was here with me, and there wasn't a cloud hanging over him … That's what dreams are made of.

I found it. I was having a look through the files on the disc while I ate a sandwich at my desk, and I found it. It's a picture, a copy of an engraving of the amulet, and beside it is a picture of the controller. Of course, it doesn't say 'controller' next to it, it wouldn't be that easy. The language doesn't even use an alphabet I've seen before, but hey, pictures, the universal language!

I reckoned that Willow and Wes, being the types of people they are, they'd start at the beginning. So, I started at the end. Ok, it made sense to me.

The amulet is pretty much the way I remember it. Of course, when I picture it, it's around Spike's neck, while here, it's on its own. The controller, or at least what I think is the controller, looks like a bracelet. It's made of links of what's probably metal, and it's got a disc on it that looks like a miniature version of the amulet. It seems to be attached like a watch would be to its bracelet. There's a drawing of it on its own, and then there's another where it's on a human hand. The funny thing is, it's not around the wrist, but wrapped around the hand, kinda like those Goa'uld things on Stargate.

I'm still not sure about calling Wes at work, so I call home instead. Willow answers after more of a delay than I expected.

"Hey, Will, how's it going?"

"Good, I've been research-gal since you left this morning. I've got some good information, mainly on the history of the thing, but nothing directly usable yet."

"Have you checked the last file on the list?"

"Well, no, I've been getting through the files as fast as I can, but …"

"Do it," I demand, taking control in my enthusiasm to get her to see what I've seen.

Fortunately, Willow knows better than to ask why, and a moment later, she's back.

"That's it, isn't it? And the rest of it too."

We agreed we'd be careful on the phone, so not using the key words. Willow said she'd checked out my phone and it was ok, but we decided not to take any chances.

"Yeah, I thought it might be. I wondered if it might not be, you know, like an instruction manual? Maybe with detailed instructions?"

"It's possible," she admits. "It looks kinda complicated, in a familiar sort of way."

I take that to mean it's one of the languages Wes has been working on lately.

"Now, all we've got to do is find one," I murmur quietly.

"Yeah," she admits. As we talk, I continue scrolling down the page. There's another drawing further down, like a more detailed drawing of the back of the controller. I say the back, because I assume the copy of the amulet is at the front. This just shows the chain links, which are really quite ornate in their own right. Each strand seems to have been plaited from seven finer strands, and the whole thing is a work of art. A work of art that looks irritatingly familiar.

"Willow," I tell her, "I've seen it."

"What? The rest of it? Where?"

"Yeah. The rest. And I can't remember. I'm sure it was recently, but I don't know. Someone was wearing something just like it."

"Angel?"

"No, that I'd remember. He couldn't have had something like that without me noticing it. I just need to remember where I've seen it."

"Ok, Buffy, I'll see what I can do about the instructions, and you try and think about where you've seen it."

"Yeah, thanks, I will."

I put the phone down, and check the time. My next appointment's due very soon, so I don't have long. I give some thought to a logical way to remember, and then realise just how un-Buffy-like that sounds. But this is for Spike, and it's important - the most important thing I've done since Sunnydale.

If I've seen it on someone's wrist, it must be someone I've seen recently. So, I start to make a list of everyone I've seen in the past week, then go gradually further back. Of course, if it's someone I've only seen in passing, then I'm stuck. But something tells me it's someone I know, or at least someone I'd recognise immediately. I continue with my list until my appointment arrives.

~~~~~

Typically, I didn't have another idle moment until the end of the day. Instead of staying at my desk, I go home, stopping only to pick up some necessities. Once there, I quickly find Willow scribbling notes as she pores over her laptop.

"Find anything?" I ask.

"A bit, but I think the detail's going to have to wait until we can show Wes. He's the expert in all these ancient languages, I only get the obvious bits. How about you?"

I flop into a chair. "Nope. Not much. I started making a list of everyone I've seen recently, hoping that the name would mean something when I wrote it down, but so far, no good. I've been through my appointment books, and my calendar, but nothing seems right."

"It's pretty unusual," Willow muses. "I think it'd be the sort of thing I'd remember. Funny you only saw the back, though."

"Well, probably not. The disc's probably the heaviest part of the chain, so it'd tend to drop to the underside of the wrist. And that's not taking into account that if the person who's wearing it is involved in all this, then they wouldn't want me to see it. They wouldn't think I'd recognise the chain, but the disc is pretty obvious."

"Not necessarily," Willow disagrees. "Not if they thought the memory spell was intact. It seems like the fact that you were there at the end gave you some immunity to the spell, but that might not have been obvious." She pauses, then looks up from the screen.

"Did you ever tell Angel about Spike? I mean, anything in passing. I know the spell made it hard, so you had to concentrate to remember him, but did you ever talk about him?"

I laugh at the idea. Talking to Angel about Spike - not what I'd call fun. I do remember telling him what happened in Sunnydale right after we left the crater. He was just so dismissive of Spike and what he did that he made me angry. I didn't speak to him for a while after that, and when we did talk after that, neither of us mentioned Spike if we could help it.

"No, I didn't," I explain. "I thought it was just jealousy, but talking about Spike to Angel was the quickest way I knew of making Angel go all growly."

"And then, after you moved to LA, you weren't inclined to talk about him anyway," Willow remembers. "Ok, but let's get back to your list. Can I have a look?"

I go into my purse, and pull out the piece of paper.

"The first names, above the line, they're work-related - people I saw at my office. Below the line is everyone else."

"You don't have much of a social life, do you?"

I smile ruefully at her. "I didn't socialise much when I was setting up the business, and then, when Angel and I got together, I just mixed with his friends. Since we broke up, the only one of them I've seen is Wes."

Willow tries reading the list to me, hoping that hearing the name will spark some memory. When she reaches the end of the list I shrug. "Sorry, Will, none of them does anything."

"And that's everyone you've seen?"

"Short of trying to come up with names for anyone I've passed in the street, yeah, that's it. The only other person I've seen recently is Spike, and that's been in my dreams."

All it takes is the merest mention of his name, and he's there again, in my mind, large as life, smiling at me, that soft, gentle smile he tried to pretend he didn't have.

"He's been trying to help," I remember suddenly.

Willow looks up, waiting for an explanation.

"When you were gone last night, he told me you needed to do what you were doing, and that I'd get my chance. And I think I've been dreaming about him lately too. Can't remember anything when I waken, but, you know the sort of dream, where you just know that everything was perfect, but you can't remember it all?"

Willow nods.

"I think I've been dreaming about him, about us being together."

"Better than the other dreams, then," Willow comments.

"Yeah. The first ones I had, about Spike burning … Wait. That's it."

Now she looks confused. I pull the laptop round so I can see the screen better, almost knocking it off her lap. I scroll down to the picture, and look at it again. I don’t know whether to be elated or depressed. I know exactly whose wrist the controller was on. The only problem is, she's dead.

"Lilah," I mutter.

"Lilah? But she's …"

"Dead, but still walking as far as we know."

"And you saw her in a dream."

My turn to nod. "And she was wearing the controller."

"Makes sense, I suppose," Willow says. "She was controlled by the senior partners, and her contract wasn't terminated by anything as mundane as her death."

"So, how do we find it?"

"I don't know. She could, quite literally, be anywhere, but my best guess would be the Wolfram and Hart building."

"And we do this without Wes."

Willow's about to argue, but I hold up my hand.

"Look, Gina's already scared half to death at what's going on after last night. If we get Wes involved in looking for Lilah on top of that, well, let's just say, Lilah's the one name that always makes Gina nervous. She knows about what went on between Wes and her, probably more than I do. I heard most of it from Angel, because Wes just doesn't talk too much about that time."

"So, if we don't get Wes involved, then how do we get access to the W&H building?"

"Well, he's not the only department head we know, there's Gunn, and …"

"Fred!" Willow interrupts. "I met her when I returned Angel's soul, and we kept in touch a bit, you know, emails and so on."

"I thought about her too, but she's loyal to Angel. If he's involved …"

"I think she'll be ok," Willow counters. "She was loyal to Angel, and she probably still is, up to a point, but she's her own person these days. And if you combine her science with my magic, you've got a pretty unbeatable combination."

"How can we be sure we can trust her?"

"We can't, but our options are pretty limited. I don't know Gunn that well, but apart from getting us into the building, I'm not sure what else he could actually do for us. We're trying to find an animated dead person, and she's not a vampire, or a zombie, or anything else we know about. And do you really think he's more likely to be trustworthy than Fred?"

It's true. Of all of the old AI team, Gunn's the one with the biggest personal agenda. And I can't see saving Spike from Hell as being one of his priorities.

I consider the possibility that Willow might actually know Fred better than I do. I've met her, of course, but we didn't hit it off, exactly. Well, it wasn't even as clear as that. I got the impression that she thought I wasn't quite good enough for Angel, and I know from Wes that there was a bit of Angel-worship going on when he first rescued her from Pylea.

"Ok, how do we do this?" I ask.

"Well, unless you've got a better idea, I'll just email her, and tell her I'm in LA. I'll see if I can get her to meet me for coffee and a chat, and I'll sound her out."

She must see just how nervous I am about this.

"It's ok," she adds. "I won't say anything until I'm pretty sure she's not involved. I can probably rig up enough of a charged atmosphere around us that I can pretty much monitor whether she's lying. Like a magickal lie detector."

"Remember that time when Spike got shot with the tracer?" I remind her. "It took you days to get your hair back to normal after you ionised the atmosphere to kill the signal from that thing."

Still, it stopped the Initiative from getting Spike back, so it was a good thing. I just didn't realise how good then.

"I've got it under control now," she promises, a hint of irritation in her voice.

"Ok, Will," I concede. "Try it, but be careful."

Willow starts to write her email, while I go and start putting together something to eat. Salad, cold meat (ready cooked), and ice cream for after. Quick, nutritious, and even I can't get it wrong.

We’re just finishing the last of the ice cream when Wes arrives. I offer to make coffee, but he declines, telling me it's a flying visit.

We spend a few moments comparing notes, and it's clear that Wes' information deals primarily with the history of the amulet. I show him what I've found, and he glances at the accompanying text.

"Yes, this would appear to be what amounts to an instruction manual, although, needless to say, it's not as simple as 'plug and play'. I'll have a look at home and try to do a full translation tonight. Of course, that doesn't help us with finding the controller. Any ideas?"

"No," I say, almost too quickly, before Willow can answer.

Wes looks at me suspiciously, sensing how abnormal my reaction is, so I quickly add, "It's just so frustrating. Without that, we can't do anything."

He seems to accept that.

"So, no repercussions at work from what happened last night?"

"Not that I'm aware of," he replies. "Of course, unless I'm personally implicated, there's no reason why I should be. There did seem to be some abnormal activity around Gunn's office, but then it's hard to say what's actually abnormal."

"I thought I'd try to meet up with Fred while I'm here," Willow says.

I'm surprised, but then, he could find out anyway so it's probably best to tell him up front.

"She'd like that, I think," he replies. "You're not going to involve her in this, are you?"

"Why, don't you trust her?" I ask. I can't help myself.

"Fred? She's a person of extremely high integrity. I would trust her to help righting any injustice, but I'm not sure she'd see the current situation as an injustice. More to the point, I'm not sure that she could add anything, and the fewer people who know about what we're doing, the safer we'll all be."

"Oh, ok," Willow answers.

I don't like lying to Wes, but I don't want him digging himself in deeper with Gina either.

Wes stands then, getting ready to go. I want to talk to him, but I don't know what to say, so I follow him out to the door.

"You ok?" I manage, as he pulls the door open.

"Yes, Buffy, I'm fine. And so is Gina. She'll probably call you later, or tomorrow if she's tired. Don't worry about us, and try not to worry about Spike. We'll find a way to bring him back, if only so I can experience for myself the person who irritates both Angel and Giles so much."

I can only smile at that. He sounds sure, and I'm grateful. I keep trying to reassure myself that we'll do what we have to do, but sometimes it feels like it has an edge of desperation - like if I think for one moment that we might fail, then Spike will be consigned to Hell for all eternity.

"Thanks," I murmur. He smiles back, before stooping to kiss my cheek. Not something he does often, I think it's an English thing, something he saves for when it's really needed.

When he's gone, I go back to the living room to find Willow busy googling. I go to make the coffee I didn't make earlier, and when I return, Willow's scribbling furiously. It seems to be a list of books - reference materials used on a site she's found. I perch on the arm of her chair, and look at the site. It certainly looks to be full of useful information about the various animated dead that share our world.

"Where're you going to get those?" I ask, pointing at the list.

"Don't know. I thought I'd try Giles, and there're a couple of rare bookshops I know - some of them even do online ordering."

She glances at her watch, then grimaces. "Too late, or early, to call Giles, depending on your point of view. So, I'll check out the bookstores. Some even sell on the basis they'll take them back providing they're still in saleable condition. I've done that before - it can be fairly cost-effective."

I'm just about to comment on the fact that she's not a student any more, and I'm no longer an impoverished minimum-wage burger dispenser, but I'm interrupted by the phone.

It must be Gina. I pick up the phone, but it's not Gina's voice that answers my 'hello'. It's Angel's.

An hour later, I’m sitting in a coffee bar waiting. I’m wondering what it is he wants to tell me about. All I know is it’s something he thinks I should know about, and he doesn’t want to talk about it over the phone. And no, it won’t wait. I sip my mocha, and wonder how long he’s going to be, when I see him standing in the doorway, eclipsing any view of outside. He’s bigger than I remember – has it really been such a short time since I saw him? He spots me, and his expression changes, from worry to – is that relief? I’m sure it is, and with that knowledge comes another fact. He wasn’t sure I’d come.

He sits beside me, and I ask if he’s going to have anything.

"No, I’m not good with caffeine," he says, as if we hadn’t had this same conversation a dozen times before.

"They do decaffeinated," I remind him. He shrugs.

"Never saw the point of that."

I take a deep breath, and I’m about to ask him why he called, when he speaks again.

"It’s good to see you. I’ve … missed you."

"Look, Angel, I thought there was something important happening, and if there isn’t, then it’s not doing either of us any favours being here together."

"There is … something important. I just had to say it. I miss you. I wish you would come home, but I know you need time."

"Angel, it’s not time I need, I told you that. Us, we, we just weren’t working. Not for me. I’m sorry, but I can’t change it. And, if you’ll only think about it, you’ll realise you don’t love me either. You love sixteen-year-old Buffy, the new Slayer, all innocent and vulnerable. You’re in love with someone who doesn’t exist any more. And I’m not going to talk about this any more. So, if there’s something else you want to say, say it, because if there isn’t, I’m leaving."

He puts a hand on my arm. It’s gentle, and it’s not threatening, but it still seems intrusive.

"Ok, Buffy, I’ll get to that part. Remember Sunnydale? The First? I think someone’s trying to undo what you did there – someone is planning on reversing everything, opening up the Sunnydale Hellmouth, maybe even taking the power from all the extra slayers."

Ok, that was worth the call, I admit it.

"What makes you say that?"

"You know the amulet that did it all? Destroyed the Hellmouth?"

I make a show of having to think carefully. I don’t know what he’s expecting, but I’m trying to be cautious.

"Yes, what about it?" I note that, yet again, the man who wore the amulet doesn’t get a mention.

"Well, the records on the amulet are kept at Wolfram and Hart, and I’ve been informed that someone has accessed them."

"Oh." Well, what else can I say? Ok, yes, there is that.

"Who?"

"That’s the thing. I, that is, my informant, doesn’t know, and she doesn’t understand why she doesn’t know."

I try very hard not to breathe a sigh of relief at that. Wait a minute, what was that?

"Your informant?"

"Someone who looks after some things for me."

"Who?"

"I’d rather not say."

"You expect me to take this seriously, but you’re not willing to tell me who’s been whispering in your ear?"

He grins at that. "You sound jealous." His voice is almost a purr.

"I am not jealous. I just want to know who it is who thinks Sunnydale’s about to be open for demon business again."

He pauses, and then I see the decision in his eyes.

"Lilah," he says, quietly, and he’s waiting for my reaction. And it’s so obvious what he thinks it’s going to be that I can hardly control my irritation. He only told me her name because he thinks that’s going to fire my jealousy.

"She’s dead," I remind him, keeping my voice level, and doing my best to keep my irritation under control, because if he can sense a raised pulse rate, he’ll probably see it as proof of what he wants to think. But then, maybe that'd be better than the alternative.

"Yes, she’s dead, but she’s my contact with the aspects of Wolfram and Hart that I don’t control. They only ceded the LA branch to me."

"And you believe her," I say, but it’s obvious from my tone of voice that I can’t understand why he’d believe her, even if she’s partly right in the present situation.

"Look, I know she’s not exactly on my side, but she’s never steered me wrong. She’s always got her own agenda, but if she’s right, then it could be big trouble."

"Even if she’s right about someone checking the records, it doesn’t mean that’s what they’re planning on doing with the information. Maybe it’s just intellectual curiosity."

"Those records are top secret. Officially, apart from the Senior Partners, and Lilah, no one else knows of their existence. And what else could it be? There’s no other reason I can think of."

I don’t sense a lie in what he says, but then, I can’t help but think that in almost two hundred and sixty years, almost anyone could learn to lie convincingly.

My mind’s going round in circles. Lilah. The exact person I want to find, and here’s my opening. But, what if it’s a set up? Maybe she knows who it was, and it’s some sort of a trap. Then again, it might be the only chance we get, and Spike’s running out of time.

"I want to meet her."

At first I wonder if he actually heard me.

"Lilah? Why?"

"I want to be able to watch her while she tells me that someone’s going to re-open Sunnydale."

"I don’t think she’ll agree," he answers.

"Persuade her. I’m sure you’re more than capable."

That last part is a measured risk. It’s a carrot; half implying that I think he’s got Lilah interested in him, and that, coupled with his perception of my jealousy should be the spur to make him try. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. And since when did I use Angel’s feelings for me as a weapon? Well, since it gives me a shot at getting Spike back.

"I’ll ask, but I can’t promise. If she agrees, it’ll have to be somewhere in the W&H building. Her … contract keeps her limited in where she can go."

"Good enough," I tell him, draining my cup. "You’ve got my number, call me when you set it up."

And then I get up and walk towards the door. I know he’s not following as I go outside, because, hey, I’ve got this sense where vampires are concerned. I walk to my car as my mind goes through the possibilities. And then there’s the arrogance and pig-headedness of the man. Where does he get off thinking I’m jealous? How … ?

And then I hear a scream, and I follow the sound into an alley. I can’t see anything, and the sound’s gone, but I can sense them. Vampires, two of them. I approach quietly, and I just know they’re thinking they’ve got one each now.

The attack, when it comes, is two-pronged and swift, but it’s also a pretty dismal attempt. It takes me exactly ten seconds to stake the first of them, and less than half a minute after that to finish the second. It takes me longer to find their intended victim, who’s fainted and lying in the darkest part of the alley. I wake her up, dust her down, and take her to her car with instructions to go straight home before I can return to my own car. When I do, I know he’s close. I don’t see him, but I know he’s watching. Like he used to do when I was sixteen. So, I get into my car and drive home before I’m tempted to find him and hit him to show that I’m not that little girl any more.

When I get home, Willow tells me that she’s set up to meet Fred in the morning. I respond with the information that Angel gave me. Willow’s worried.

"I think she knows, Lilah knows," she says, a hint of fear in her eyes.

I shrug. "I don’t know. It’s possible, but right now, we don’t have time to waste. If she knows, and it’s a trap, well, I’ve managed to get out of traps before now."

"Ok," she murmurs. But it’s the sort of ok that means it’s not ok, but that she can’t think of anything to dissuade me right now.

"See what you can find out from Fred tomorrow," I suggest, and Willow immediately brightens. She’s always been like that, well, apart from during her dark phase. She’s naturally timid, not the sort to choose to take risks, but the risks always seem more acceptable if she feels she’s doing something about it.

"So, how was it, you know, otherwise? Seeing Angel?"

"He thinks I’m jealous of Lilah."

"You’re not serious!"

"Wish I wasn’t, but then, I think that’s the only reason he agreed to try and set up a meeting. Unless he’s involved in the trap too."

"I don’t believe he’d try to hurt you."

"No, neither do I," I reply, and I mean it. He might do something that would hurt me, but I don’t think he wouldn’t do it consciously. Unless he thought it was for my own good, I remember bitterly.

I look at the time, and realise it’s later than I thought. For the first time in a long time I wish I didn’t have to go to work in the morning. Spending time on anything other than trying to get Spike back just feels like a waste, but there’s no alternative. Regardless of whether or not I get him back, I’m still going to need a way to earn money, and I just can’t afford to do anything to jeopardise the business. And, the truth is, that until I’ve got that controller, there’s not much else I can do.

I look at Willow, and see the familiar dark shadows under her eyes. One advantage I’ve got, although I’ve never been sure whether it’s just the colouring or something to do with Slayer powers – I don’t get them the way she does.

"You’re tired," I comment, gently.

"Yeah," she admits.

"So?"

"Ok," she laughs at me. "I’m going."

Sleep doesn’t come easily. When I do sleep, I know, even in my sleep, that it’s not restful.

And then he’s there, with me. Spike. I’m so relieved that I feel my eyes fill with tears, and I pull him down onto the bed with me, needing to feel him close to me. We kiss, and with the inconsistency of a dream, we’re soon naked and things are progressing very satisfactorily. Except, suddenly, the weight on my body increases, and I look up to see Angel’s face, rather than Spike’s. And he’s grinning, and telling me he knew I still loved him. I’m trying to push him off, but it’s as if my Slayer strength is gone, and there’s no way I can move him. He doesn’t seem to have noticed there’s anything wrong, he’s telling me we’re meant to be together, that it’s our destiny.

Panic wells within me, because this isn’t right. I don’t love him, and I don’t want him here in my bed. His hands feel rough, almost violent, and I’m pinned in place. I try to scream, but he kisses me and the sound is smothered by a mouth which seems totally alien to me.

And then I know we’re not alone. There’s someone else in the room, and I wrench my head around to see, and it’s Lilah, openly wearing the controller, waving it at me and laughing at my inability to do anything about it.

"This is your future," she’s taunting. "Better get used to it. You enjoyed it once, maybe you can again."

And then she’s laughing again, and she takes the controller from her wrist and places it on the floor. She lifts her foot, and brings it down on the device, smashing the disc that matches the amulet.

"Now, all you’ve got is Angel," she sneers. "All you’ll ever have is Angel."

I finally manage to scream, and the sound of it fills my ears. I scream again, emptying my lungs before refilling them in a gasping breath and screaming again.

And then something’s pulling at me, moving my arm, and I look and Angel’s gone, and Willow’s sitting at the edge of my bed shaking me.

A dream. It’s funny, when it started, I knew it was a dream. When it was about Spike, I thought it was one of his dreams, the ones I don’t remember in the morning, but which leave a stamp of him on me. Then, it was real. It went from being Spike in my bed to Angel, and my panic overtook everything else.

I calm slowly, taking deep breaths, and Willow doesn’t ask for an explanation, happy to just wait until I’m ready.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks at last.

"No, … yes, … I don’t know."

"Well, I guess the answer’s in there somewhere."

I smile. Relief that it was just a dream gradually sinking in.

"It was a dream. I think it was just a dream, not a Slayer dream, or a prophecy or anything."

She nods and waits while I sketch the plot of it.

"You could be right," she agrees. "It could just be a reaction to what happened tonight – all your fears coming out to say ‘boo’."

"But you don’t think so," I offer.

"Didn’t say that," she disagrees. "Not even sure I would. Truth is? I don’t know. You’re probably the best judge since you’re the one having all the Slayery dreams and all."

She’s right. And, now that I think about it, it does have the hallmarks of an ordinary nightmare. So, maybe …

"You ok?" she asks, stifling a yawn.

"Yeah, thanks, Will. You go back to bed. I’ll be fine."

She does, and I lie there, trying to remember the good part of the dream, Spike, here, in my arms, even better than I remembered from before. Spike without guilt. I try to brand that feeling into my mind as I drift back to sleep, trying to imagine him here, holding me, keeping me safe, knowing that I love him.

I'm at work, but I'm so tense that I’m struggling to give the woman in front of me the attention she deserves. With an effort, I manage to keep enough concentration to follow her story as she recounts, haltingly, the episode that brought her here. For now, as with so many of the people I see, all she needs is to know that I believe her. What she experienced, well, it'd be routine for Sunnydale, but it wasn't for her. It was horrifying and totally outside her experience. And then, of course, the stark refusal of the authorities to take her seriously did its damage on top of the rest of it.

I'm wondering if Willow's called yet. I'm desperate to know what happened with Fred. I’m hoping Willow doesn’t tell Fred too much right now – we really just need to have some idea of where her loyalties lie. Anything else can wait until I hear from Angel.

And thinking of Angel, I haven't heard from him yet. I know, logically, that I only spoke to him last night, and that he might not have an answer right away. But logic doesn’t really figure right now. Memories of last night, of how it felt to be with Spike again, well, if they were intended to make sure getting him back is my highest priority then they succeeded. Not that it wasn’t already. It’s just so frustrating - there's just so much that's unknown, and so little time. At least back in Sunnydale, I generally knew who was on my side. Ok, it took me a while to work Spike out. But the rest of them? They either wore black hats or white hats. Here? It seems like grey is the colour this season. Or maybe stripy. Black and white hats may be considered to be the height of fashion.

I drag myself back to the present. My client’s looking at me, and despite everything I’ve said so far, she’s expecting me to say something to refute what she’s said.

“I know this is hard to believe right now, but you’ll get your life back,” I tell her. “These things exist. I know it. I’ve seen them, and I understand things about them. They have weaknesses, and if you know what they are, you can keep yourself safe.”

She looks at me, and the expression on her face is one of utter amazement.

“You really believe me,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes. And, if you’ll just take a few simple precautions, you can be confident that you don’t meet any more of them.”

I hand her a card. It’s not a business card, although it will fit into her purse easily. It simply describes the ways she can avoid vampires in future – you know, not being out alone at night, not inviting a stranger into her home, that sort of thing. I find those cards more useful than a lot of the other things I do – it’s something for her to take away, and not only does it give her useful advice, it gives her written proof that someone has taken her seriously. When she comes back, we’ll get down to some real counselling. This first session, like so many first sessions, is more a hold-over from my active Slaying days. She gets up to go, looking a great deal happier.

When she's gone, my secretary comes in to tell me that Willow called, and asked that I return the call as soon as possible. Which means now, luckily.

"Hey, Will," I start.

"Buffy, hi. How's work?"

"Pretty routine. How was Fred?"

"I think she's ok," Willow explains.

"I didn't tell her anything, not really. I just chatted about the work she's doing, and sort of worked the conversation round to how the whole Wolfram and Hart thing's going. She gave off some very similar vibes to Wes, really. She's not aware of anything, but she's still not completely comfortable. I … asked her how Angel was doing. You know, if he thought it was working out. She said something interesting. Like she felt that it had changed him. Something changed about him, and it happened round about the time he took over. She said it was like there were barriers around him that she hadn't seen before. Like he was pushing his friends away. Not that he hadn't done that before, but this was done, well, quietly. No big gestures, just … a distancing. She hoped you and him being together would bring him back, but …"

"Ok," I reply. When I think about it, the Angel who got his soul anchored seems pretty much the way he was back in Sunnydale. And maybe that should have surprised me? I mean, yeah, at two-fifty and counting he's not going to be changing as fast as me between sixteen and now, but you'd expect there'd be something. Just the fact of getting his soul anchored should have done something.

"Buffy, you there?" Willow asks, and I realise I've been temporarily lost in thought.

"Yeah, Will, just thinking."

"Heard from Angel yet?"

"No, but then I don't know how long it's going to take. If we don’t get a meeting set up within a couple of days, then maybe we should just wade in and ask Fred."

"Maybe,” she agrees. “Meantime, I've got some more work to do on some of this information. We've got the basics of most of it, but there're some things that don't make sense. I want to go and have another look, see what I can come up with. I'll be here if Angel calls and you want to talk, ok?"

"Thanks, Will. I really appreciate all this, you know?"

"Sure. Still, you never know when I'm going to need a counsellor or a vampire in Cleveland, so …"

I smile at that. A counsellor and a vampire. Now that sounds like a winning combination.

The next call I get is from Wes. I feel tendrils of guilt around my stomach as he starts to speak. He's been so supportive over all this, that in some ways I know it's wrong to keep him out of this part of it. I just couldn't bear to hurt Gina right now, and with the being pregnant, she might not see Wes having contact with Lilah as being entirely a Good Thing.

"Is it ok if I come round this evening?" he asks.

"Since when have you needed an invitation?" I answer. "Or is there something you're not telling me?"

"What do you mean, something I'm not telling you?" He sounds defensive, and I'm confused.

"Invitation - Vampire? I know it's not much of a quip, but they can't all be winners."

"Oh, yes, yes, precisely."

Now I know there's something wrong.

"What is it?" I demand.

"I've got some news, about that … thing. If it's ok, I'll come round later and discuss it with you."

I have to assume he's got someone listening, so my curiosity's going to have to wait for satisfaction.

"Sure."

"Good. I'll see you at eight if that's convenient?"

"Yeah, see you then."

He grunts an affirmative and follows it with a goodbye, then hangs up. He hasn't actually told me anything, but I'm worried. There was something in his voice that screamed 'bad news' louder than I could ignore. The familiar chill settles on my stomach, and I have to steel myself to go on with the rest of my day. Eight o'clock seems a long time from now, and I'm pretty sure it's not going to seem any closer for a long time.

~~~~~

The afternoon at work passed in the longest blur I can ever remember experiencing. Nothing about it is clear, it just seemed to go on forever. I force myself to go to buy some food on the way home. Not that we don't need anything - my cupboards are pretty much bereft of nutrition right now - but I just want to get home and talk to Willow, and hope that Wes comes earlier than he said.

There's no method to my shopping. I know it even as I do it, throwing packages into the cart at random, hoping that they will magically result in meals. I pay for it in a daze, and go out to the car.

When I get home, there've been no real developments, so I busy myself putting away the groceries. And why did I buy so much breakfast cereal? I'm seriously worrying about the state of my mind when my cell phone rings. I rummage through my purse and pull it out.

"Hey, Angel," I answer it.

"Buffy." It's one word, and I know he sounds pleased to hear my voice, but it's not the way Spike says it.

"So, have you set up the meeting?"

"You still want to talk to Lilah?"

"Why would I change my mind?"

"I just thought, maybe, you'd realise it's pointless."

"Does that mean you didn't persuade her?"

"What? No. She's willing - she seemed quite keen to meet you, actually."

"So, when?"

"Tonight. Midnight."

"Of course, it had to be. I always suspected she'd be the sort to arrange midnight meetings."

"You don't have to go, you know."

"Actually, I do. Will you be there?"

"Yes. I don't understand why you have to meet her, but I'll be there, just in case."

"You think she's going to try something, don't you?"

"I don't know. It's just, Lilah, she's … unpredictable. She could want to meet you for her own reasons."

"Don't worry, Angel. I can look after myself."

He sighs, and I can just picture his expression.

"Someday you'll realise that doesn't have to be a one-person job."

"I already know that," I blurt out, thinking, naturally, of Spike. "I mean, …” I hastily correct myself, “Xander, Willow - they helped me keep going before - watched my back."

"Yeah," he replies, but the sarcastic tone in his voice is obvious.

"So, I'll come to the Wolfram and Hart building tonight, a little before midnight. Will I get in?"

"I'll set up a pass for you, get them to send you straight up to my office."

"Ok. See you then."

After too long with not enough to do to help get Spike come back, suddenly it seems like things are moving. Now, if only I knew what Wes is going to say. I hope he's not planning on staying too late - it might be hard to explain the sudden need to go out late at night.

My thoughts are interrupted by my phone, and when I check the caller, it’s Gina.

“Hey, Gina, how’re you doing?”

“I’m good, Buffy. Listen, Wes is going over to see you tonight, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he called a while ago. Why? Is it a problem?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s just, there’s something wrong. I don’t know what, and I don’t think it’s anything to do with Spike. He’s been, I don’t know, kinda broody since the other night. I came across something he’d been working on, or at least his notes, and it was something about a child – two vampires creating a human child, and it was about Angel.”

“Whoa,” I answer. “Vampires can’t …”

“I know, but that’s what his notes said.”

“Look, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“But you’ll tell me, right? If there’s something I should know, you’ll tell me.”

“I’m sure Wes wouldn’t tell me anything he couldn’t tell you.”

“But … No, you’re right. It’s probably nothing, or it’s something he just wants to get straight in his head before he tells me.”

“Maybe it’s something to do with Spike and he just wants to tell me first,” I offer.

“You’re right, that’s probably all it is. He’ll come home after talking to you and he’ll tell me everything. And I don’t mind that, I really don’t. I’m just being silly.”

“You’re not being silly, it’s hard sometimes. Loving someone – it’s hard, because when you love them, you’re just so vulnerable.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs.

“But, hey, Gina, you don’t have to worry. Because he loves you too. Anyone with half an eye could see it. So, he’s not going to hurt you. He might try to protect you from things sometimes, but he only wants the best for you.”

“You’re right. I’m going to make myself some tea, and do some work I need to get done. I’ll keep myself busy till he gets home, and then I won’t be able to fret about nothing any more.”

“You do that. Take care, Gina.”

I end the call and mull over what she said.

Angel? A father? Nah, not going to happen, at least not this side of him getting his reward, humanity and all that.

Now, Gina’s keeping busy, what do I do until Wes gets here?

I should have known that when he said eight o’clock, he meant eight o’clock. I check my watch for the millionth time this evening, and it’s a minute to. And then I hear the sound of a knock on the door. I jump up and go to answer it. Willow looks at me, knowing I’m on edge, but not really understanding despite my attempts to explain it.

I bring him into the living room, and he sits down, a folder with his notes on his lap.

“Ok, what is it?” I demand. “You’ve had me worried half the day, and now you’re not talking.” I know I've barely let him sit down, but I can't stop myself.

“Buffy,” he says, shaking his head.

“What. Is. It?” Why won’t he just tell me?

“It’s the dates, I’ve worked out which one is the deadline.”

“And?”

“It’s the first one. We’ve got a little over forty-eight hours and that’s all. We’ve got no idea of where the controller is, and we’re all but out of time. I’ve spent hours today, rechecking my figures, making sure that everything’s as accurate as I can get it, but I can’t change the result.”

He looks so … bereft. For just a moment, I want to comfort him. It looks like we’re out of options, but at least I’ve got the meeting tonight set up.

“Buffy?” Wes’ voice breaks into my thoughts. And then I realise he doesn’t know we still have that chance. And I can’t not tell him, not now. Apart from anything else, I'm just not Oscar material.

“Lilah’s got it,” I tell him.

“What?”

“The controller, Lilah’s got it.”

“What? How?”

“Long story short. I knew when I saw the picture that I’d seen it before. Then I remembered. That dream I had with Lilah in a walk-on part? She was wearing it.”

“Ok, that’s a start. But I don’t know how to contact her.”

“That’s ok. Angel does. And he’s set up a meeting for midnight.”

I can't meet his gaze as I say it. There’s silence for a moment. I glance at Willow who’s on the other side of the room. She’s been so quiet during the conversation I’d almost forgotten she was there.

“It seems I’ve been out of the loop,” Wes comments dryly. “When were you planning on telling me this?”

I drop my head. “Well, actually, I wasn’t. I didn’t want you to have any contact with Lilah in case it upset Gina.”

“I see.” Two words, but it’s sort of the equivalent of Giles cleaning his glasses, and I don’t mean that in a good way.

“We’ll discuss this later, Buffy. Right now, we don’t have time. What have you told Angel?”

I explain that I haven’t really told Angel anything, and that Angel came to me with information.

“And you didn’t think I needed to know that our visit the other night had been logged in some way?”

“He said no one knew who it was, so I thought you were safe.”

He’s clenching his fists at that, and I realise I’m seeing the other side of Wes - the side he keeps locked inside most of the time.

“I hope, for all our sakes, that they really don’t know. Because, to be honest, I can’t imagine Lilah agreeing to meet you unless she had her own agenda.”

“But, what choice do we have?" Willow's question reminds me she's there.

“Yes. Look, I’m sorry, Wes. I did what I thought was best, and when Spike’s back, you can yell at me all you want.”

“Ok, so what are you planning to do?”

“I’m going into the Wolfram and Hart building tonight, and I’m going to meet Lilah.”

“Not much of a plan, is it?”

“Well, no, but …”

“Ok. I’ll go back there now. At least that way, you’ll have some sort of back up.”

“No, Wes. I don’t want …”

“This isn’t about what you want. This is about sorting out a mess for which I feel in some way responsible.”

“No, Wes, wait …”

“Buffy, I agreed to the W&H deal the same as Angel did. If there’s something going on, it’s my responsibility to find out what it is.”

He’s got what Willow would no doubt call ‘resolve face’, so I know there’s no point in arguing. I just wish I hadn’t told him. Of course, then, he’d be feeling guilty, thinking we were going to fail.

“Ok,” I agree reluctantly. “You go back in, and I’ll be there later.”

He doesn’t speak again, just picks up his folder and stands to leave. I follow him out, and I put out a hand to touch his shoulder. I’m not used to Wes being so cold. He tolerates the hand, but I know that’s what he’s doing, so I take it away quickly, feeling the chill as something physical. He nods one last time before turning away.

It’s only when he’s gone that I remember my conversation with Gina. And, ok, Spike’s time being almost up could have caused what had Gina worried, but somehow, I’m not convinced. But the other suggestion? I shake my head.

~~~~~

I approach the reception desk, trying to look more confident than I feel. The receptionist smiles, and then another woman appears, as if by magic, to escort me to Angel’s office. I wonder idly why W&H only seems to employ extremely tall women. I mean, I know I'm kinda on the short side, but really, both the receptionist and my escort seem close to six feet tall. And did I mention elegant, in that 'even my labels have labels' sort of way? It occurs to me to ask Angel about the company's pay structure some time.

We ride the elevator in silence, which is probably just as well. Nervous Buffy tends to be big on the verbiage, but small on the sense. And I’m nervous right now.

I’m shown into the office, and my escort departs, closing the door behind her. Angel’s at his desk, but he stands as I go in, coming towards me. He holds his arms out to me, as if to hug me, but I offer him one hand, and he shakes it awkwardly. I see the hurt in his eyes, but I can’t do anything about that right now.

“Where’s Lilah?” I ask.

“She’ll be here. It’s not quite midnight, after all.”

I nod, and Angel gestures towards a chair, but the last thing I feel like doing is sitting down.

He shrugs at my refusal to sit, leaning against his desk to watch me pacing.

“You seem kinda worried, Buffy,” he comments, folding his arms.

“What? Yeah. Well, if someone’s going to open up the Sunnydale Hellmouth, I’d say that’s worth worrying about.”

“Given that you lived on it all that time, I’m just surprised that the possibility has you so riled.”

I shrug. “I don’t want to go back to that life, Angel. I like having a life that’s not all about demons and death.”

He seems to accept that, and I glance at my watch again. It tells me I’ve still got two minutes to wait, but when I look up again, she’s there. She’s looking out of the window, apparently ignoring both of us. Well, if she’s not going to say anything, neither will I. For now, anyway. I can only see one of her wrists, and there’s no sign of the controller on it.

She turns at last, and smiles. My first thought is how different she is to Gina.

“So, this is the Slayer,” she says, looking me over appraisingly. “Funny, I thought you’d be bigger.”

“And I thought you’d be younger. So, what information do you have?”

She turns completely round, and lifts her right arm to clasp her left elbow. It’s as if she’s taunting me with it, as it’s now in full view.

“She’s got spirit, Angel. I’m beginning to understand what you see in her. Still, I’m sure you could do better.”

“What information do you have?” I demand, taking two steps towards her.

“Oh, aggressive too,” she smiles again. And I don’t like that smile. There’s something of the alligator in it.

“But don’t get any ideas, because you see, I’m already dead, so you can’t slay me. Oh, yes, I forgot. You normally slay things that are already dead. Still, you can’t actually hurt me.”

“Lilah,” Angel interrupts. “You know what she wants, so why don’t you just tell her what she wants to know, and we can all go home, or back to work, or back to … wherever you’ve just come from.”

She looks at him then, shaking her head sadly. “Angel, Angel. You have no idea, have you? No inkling of why she wanted to meet me.”

“She wants …” he counters, but Lilah interrupts.

“To talk to me about the Sunnydale Hellmouth? No. Of course, no one’s trying to open it. What a perfectly absurd idea. If someone wanted to open a Hellmouth, at Sunnydale or anywhere else for that matter, there are much easier ways of doing it.”

“But you said …”

"I know what I said."

"Then what?"

“Tell him,” she says, addressing me. “Tell him what you’re hoping to gain from coming here tonight.”

My heart’s hammering in my chest. If I really can’t hurt her, and she knows what we’re trying to do …

“Buffy?” Angel’s voice impinges on my thoughts.

He’s looking confused, and that hurt look? It’s found some friends and come to stay.

“Oh, looks like Fluffy’s lost her tongue. Never mind, I’ll tell him. You can correct me if I get anything wrong.”

“She’s come for this,” she states, holding up her arm. She walks towards him, giving him a good view of the disc. “Recognise it?”

He studies it for a few seconds. “It looks like the amulet, the one I gave to Buffy.”

“Good. You recognised it. That means I don’t have to go into complicated explanations. Now, do you know what it can do?”

His eyes narrow, and he glances from her to me and back again.

“No?” she answers for him. “Well, it can bring back the wearer of the amulet. We always planned to use it. Of course, that was Plan A. Unfortunately, Plan A ceased to be an option when Buffy decided you weren’t her champion. The Senior Partners were very disappointed. But then, they didn't become the Senior Partners by not being flexible. We moved to Plan B, but that failed when Buffy decided she didn't love her brooding vampire after all. And now, we've got Plan C.”

She turns away from Angel and looks at me appraisingly.

"You know, it's just occurred to me. You didn't last that long as the Slayer by being better than your predecessors, did you? It was just plain blind luck. I mean, you thwarted two perfectly good plans without even knowing about them."

I wish I could come up with something to say to that, but my mind's working on how to try and gain some advantage here. So far, she seems to know everything I know, and then some.

The ensuing silence is broken by the door of the office opening. Wes walks in, silently taking in the three of us.

“Lilah,” he says, quietly.

Her smile goes up a notch. “Wes, it’s good to see you again. It’s been a while.”

“Yes it has,” he agrees.

“When I said it was good to see you, I meant that on a personal, here and now basis. Actually, I sort of wish you hadn’t come in when you did, because that tends to suggest that we’ve found our mole. Of course, we would have done so eventually, but … Well, it can’t be changed, so let’s get back to business.”

She turns back towards Angel. “Angel, do you remember a while ago? I asked you why Buffy chose Spike as her champion. Do you remember what you said?”

He's not looking happy at the question, but he manages an answer.

"No, I can't say I do."

"Angel, Angel. You know, you've got to be careful of that soul of yours. Isn't lying sort of against the rules? Still, I know, sometimes the truth can be difficult. Personally, I'm only really partial to it when it can be used as a weapon. Now, if I can remember correctly, you told me that Buffy's reason was the need for you to come back here, just in case she failed. Something about a second front. Isn't that true?"

"Yes," he admits, but he seems reluctant to do so. I'm surprised because that's the reason I gave him.

"There was more, though …" Lilah continues, and Angel's looking very uncomfortable. "Oh yes, something about him being expendable."

Now, I didn't say anything like that at all, and Angel knows it. At least he's got the grace to look embarrassed. Still, I haven't got time for all that, so I decide it's time to say something.

"Look, Lilah, there's no point in raking over the past. Why don't we just get down to business?"

"Eager, aren't you?" she smiles, and I'm liking that smile less every time I see it. Could she show any more teeth?

"But no, I think we need some more explanations. You know, make sure we all know exactly what's been going on. You see, I believed Angel. You were supposed to be soul mates, you two. The idea that you would've fallen for another one of the undead just seemed a tad ridiculous. So, I believed him. It meant a delay in the plan, but hey, I've got forever. So, when he told me that you were feeling guilty about Spike's sudden attack of dustiness, I thought that was all it was. I suggested that he persuade you to move to LA, and I arranged a little memory spell. It all seemed to be working well, too. I got Wes here to discover a way to anchor Angel's soul, at least for as long as it suited my purpose, and you got together. Everything was going well, and you had to go and spoil it."

"Lilah," Wes says, moving towards her. "Will you please get to the point."

"Ok," she agrees with a shrug. "So, you decided Angel wasn't really the love of your life. And then, something happened to the memory spell. It wasn't broken, more fraying at the edges. Oddly, it never was as complete as we'd expected, but it seemed to be working, so we left it alone. But the holes in it were getting bigger, and it was obvious that you were fighting it. Only strong feelings would have enabled you to do that, and then having someone searching for information on the amulet - well, let's just say I've never been a believer in coincidence. We got someone to take a peek into your dreams, and who did we find in a starring role? And can I say, when it comes to dreaming, you've got style. Well, unless you count the nightmares, of course. The others were very interesting."

She pauses to let me feel the full import of her being privy to dreams I don't even remember. It leaves me feeling … dirty, violated in some way, but I fight the feeling. She's trying to keep me off balance, and I can't let her do that.

She seems to realise that I'm not going to take the bait, so she continues, shrugging as she speaks.

"But we'd hidden things too well. You were never going to find the controller without any help, so I gave you a nudge, making an appearance in one of the dreams. And here we are. You want to bring Spike back, and you're running out of time. And you need this. Which is actually very good news for me."

As she says that last part, she moves the controller from her wrist to her other hand.

"You want to bring Spike back?" Angel asks, looking totally bewildered.

"Yes, Angel. That's why she wanted this meeting. She wants this."

"Buffy?" he asks.

"She's right. If we don't get him back soon, he's going to go to Hell forever. I can't let that happen."

"But … but it's what's going to happen in the end, so …"

"You knew, didn't you. You knew about the memory spell, that something had tampered with my mind."

He doesn't speak, but I know he did. Then a thought hits me.

"Did you know he could be brought back? What would happen if he wasn't?"

"Spike? No, no I didn't. Can't say I gave it any thought."

Lilah looks as if she's enjoying the show, and her attention seems to be centred on Angel. With an effort, I push my thoughts about what Angel just said to the back of my mind, and I take the opportunity to make a dive towards the controller. I bounce back from an invisible barrier about a foot from her, landing in a very undignified heap on the floor.

"I told you you couldn't hurt me," she reminds me. "But I'd have been disappointed if you hadn't tried. Now, back to business. You want this, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm not going to give it to you. I might be persuaded to use it, though. If I get the right sort of promise from you."

She smiles again. What is it with this woman and the smiling? She seems to consider what to say.

"Now, what could I ask for? Hmmm. Let me see. I've got it, the very thing. I want you to work for me. Not for always, this is a one job agreement. I don't even think it'll affect your conscience too much. You see, the Senior Partners are having some trouble with a particular sect of demons. They're trying to upset the balance of power around here, and that's bad news for everyone. That's where you come in. You see, they have this whole mythology around a future where they run the world. The good news from my point of view, is that they believe they'll achieve that because a Slayer allies herself with them against their enemies. So, what I want, is for you to be that Slayer, and to destroy them from within. Simple enough job, I'd have thought, for a Slayer of your experience."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then, I destroy the controller, and with it, I ensure Spike's eternal torment."

"And these demons? What should I know about them?"

"Well, they're flesh eaters, human flesh eaters, that is. Oh, and they prefer it living. Like I said, I can't see that destroying them should cause your conscience any discomfort at all."

"What species of demon?" Wes asks.

"Carnolan. Not big players right now, but some of our seers think they might be causing some problems in a few years."

Wes nods. I assume the name means something to him.

"I need to think about it," I offer.

"Fine," she says, sweetly. "You've got ten minutes. If I don't have an agreement by then, my heel's going to put a hole through this pretty trinket."

And she's gone.

"Buffy," Angel is the first to speak. "You're not going to do it, are you? What she's got in mind - that's what will upset the balance of power."

"But Spike …"

"Is going to Hell anyway. All you're going to do is delay the inevitable. I know Spike. He's not going to redeem himself."

"I think you're wrong. He already has. Saving the world's got to count for something."

Our argument is interrupted when Wes speaks. "Another thing to consider. If she brings him back, I fully expect she'll invoke the control clause. He will be controlled by her."

"Ok, maybe he will be," I counter. "But we'll have bought ourselves time. We might be able to undo that later."

"There are certainly possibilities," he agrees.

"These demons - Cran …"

"Carnolan," he corrects me.

"Ok, whatever. They eat living human flesh?"

"They do."

"So, why've I never heard of them?"

"Well, first, they don't leave any evidence. They eat everything. And then again, they're not actually that numerous. They've always preferred areas of low population, but I've heard rumours that they're moving into LA."

"Buffy," Angel says again. "You're not really considering this?"

"Tell me, Angel. What was Plan B? If I hadn't left you, how was she going to persuade me to do this?"

"It's about Connor, isn't it?" Wes' voice is quiet, but he sounds confident.

Now, I have no idea who or what Connor is, but by the look on Angel's face, it's important.

"How do you know about him?" Angel demands.

"The spells which were set up to stop us finding out about Spike and the amulet - well, we found a way to counteract them. Remembering bits about Connor was what you might call a side-effect. I'm pretty sure there's still a lot I don't remember, but I do remember you had a son. Or, more correctly, you and Darla had a son. What I don't know is what happened to him."

Angel's eyes flash dangerously, and for an instant, I see Angelus. "He was taken from me when he was a baby. By you. He was transferred to another dimension, one where time works differently. He left as a baby, but came back a young man. A young man who'd been taught to hate me. He was … mixed up, angry, confused. He would've killed himself, and others, but Lilah offered me the chance to stop that. It was the reason I agreed to take on Wolfram and Hart. He has a home, a family, a normal life. And I'm the only person who should have remembered him." His voice is filled with bitterness, and it's directed at Wes.

This is just too much information to process. So, I'm not going to try.

"But how does that persuade me to work for Lilah?"

"That was up to me. She promised that when you'd done something for her, I'd get my humanity, and we'd create a child together, except it would be Connor. I'd get a second chance with him."

"You wanted me to have you and Darla's child?" I demand. I'm sorry, but the idea is just repulsive.

"He would've been our child, made by us."

"But Darla was Connor's mother. So, what would I have been? A handy incubator? Or were you even planning on telling me?"

"I don't know. I wanted to wait until we'd been together for a bit longer, then I was going to tell you that I had the chance of humanity, but with strength equal to yours. I'd just made up my mind to tell you that much, when you moved out."

I feel as though I'm going to need to think for a week and I'm still not going to get over all this. I'm just letting some of it sink in, when Lilah reappears.

"So, have you decided?" she asks, twirling the controller around.

"What's to stop me agreeing, and then, once Spike's safe, changing my mind?"

"Good question," she says, grinning again. She's really enjoying herself, and I'm getting close to hating her.

"I'm sure Wes has told you about the side-effect of bringing Spike back. I'll control him. Of course, I don't have to exercise that control, I can let him do exactly as he wishes. On the other hand, I can turn him into something that'd put Angelus to shame for sheer viciousness. And then again, there's the fact that the deal will be mystically sealed. You'll be bound to complete the task, and only then will you be free. Even your death won't free you from your obligation. When your part of the bargain is complete, I will rescind control of Spike to you. It'll be up to you then whether you want to give him his free will, or keep him under your control."

"How can I be sure you'll keep your part of the bargain?"

"Oh, that's simple. It's all part of the seal. I'll be bound to it just the same as you are. I'll even set it up so that as our bargain is sealed, Spike will be returned to this world."

I look towards Wes. He looks worried, but I've already made my decision. Before I can speak, he interrupts.

"Lilah," he says, "I'd like a concession."

"Wes, now, let me guess what. You want to be privy to the details of the obligation, don't you?"

"Yes, I would. Otherwise, it all just seems a little one-sided, doesn't it?"

"You're right, of course. And, I have no problem with you doing that, ok?"

"Buffy?" Angel again.

"I don't want to talk to you right now," I tell him.

"So, Buffy, what's your answer? Are you willing to do this little thing for me? Or do I …" As she says that part, she's placed the controller on the floor, and her foot is hovering over it. "Because, your time's up."

"I agree," I say quickly. Of course, the decision was made before she left, but …

"Good. Then, let's sort out the contract."

Then, the proceedings lose me. Wes suddenly stiffens, and seems to go into a trance. I gasp, and go to help him, but Angel holds me back. "He's checking out the contract, experiencing every part of it," he says.

I pull away, because I really don't want him touching me right now, but I don't go any closer to Wes.

It's probably only a few seconds, but it seems longer, when Wes comes back to himself. Lilah's looking at him, and smiling. "This reminds me of some of the good times we had," she says, watching as his face loses its rigidity. "So, is the contract as I described it?"

"It is. When the bargain is sealed, Spike will be returned, and Buffy will be bound to complete her task. When the task is complete, you will hand over control of Spike to Buffy. Buffy, are you sure about this?" he asks me. It's not said in a way that implies he's trying to talk me out of it, just that he wants me to be sure that I understand.

"I'm sure," I answer, surprised at how small my voice sounds.

"Good," Lilah says too heartily. "So, the contract needs to be sealed with blood. And, here, I have a knife. We'll go for a standard blood pact. I'll slice my hand, and you'll slice yours, and when the blood mingles, we'll both be bound by the contract."

I look to Wes for reassurance, and he nods, a slight movement that seems almost invisible.

"Ok, let's do it."

She hands me the knife, and I make a slice in the palm of my left hand, then I hand her the knife and she does the same. She then holds out her left hand, waiting for me to do the same.

I grasp her hand, taking a not insignificant pleasure from the fact that she's affected by Slayer strength. I don't actually hear any bones breaking, but I see her wince, and that's enough. Then, I feel heat emanating from the palm of my hand, going through me, travelling along my arm, and straight to my heart.

And then she's gone. I look around, and Angel and Wes have gone. Or maybe I'm somewhere different. I'm not sure what's going on, and then I spot him. Huddled in a corner, looking almost as I remember him from the school basement after he got his soul. It's Spike. He's back. And suddenly, I don't care where I am. I run across the room to where he's cowering, and get to my knees in front of him. I lift his head so he can see me, and when he does, his smile lights up the room.

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