I had her. I had her, in my sights, and she .. just .. disappeared. They all just disappeared. I'm standing here, with my gun in my hand, and there's no one to use it on.

I can't imagine how she did it. There was something, a demon, behind her. It's a sign of how far she's fallen, how far she's willing to go in her love for demons.

I never understood it. I never understood how she could be the Slayer, have a mission to protect humans from demons, and yet be with them. It's all Angel's fault, I suppose. He took an innocent child, and warped her. That's the only reason I can think of. The only reason that she could allow Spike to touch her. The only reason she could trust that .. whatever .. that helped her to disappear. How can she not see that it's wrong? How can't she see she's betraying her own kind, all of us, by behaving like that?

I'm not in control now. I haven't been for a while, not really. The energy, it's in charge, but it's as confused as I am. It's using my knowledge, my memories, to plan how to achieve its objective. I've got no explanation for what happened, so it has none.

I know that underneath, I'm disappointed that I'm free. I believed that they were trying to find a way to get this infection out of me, even if it was only because I might be able to help find Spike. I know that, once I'm free, I can make Buffy see what's happened to her. I think I did before - when I came back with Sam. I made up the 'doctor' thing, or at least Spike's involvement in it, but there's bound to be something real that he's up to. Once I'm back, once I know Spike's weaknesses, he'll get what's coming.

This thing that's controlling me, it's found a way to keep my emotions in check, with one exception it would seem, without stopping me from thinking. So, I know I'm scared shitless, and I know that I'm angry, but I don't feel it. Curiously, I notice that I still hate Spike. The other emotions are tamped down so that I can think clearly. It feels like it's worked out a lot about me while I was trapped in the mansion.

I was released by another subT. Tall, reddish, dressed in the loudest clothes I've seen since, well since Xander when I was with Buffy. It didn't seem to do anything, just walked into the mansion, and the spell dissipated. It just fell away, and the energy was back in control. It didn’t say anything, just walked away. It's obviously part of whatever's got me, but how it fits in, I have no idea.

I'm coming to the conclusion that they're not coming back here. So, it's back to the beginning. The most obvious place to find them is back at the Magic Box. The problem with that is the witches. They're probably still there, but maybe I can watch until one of the others leaves. Then, maybe, I'll have another chance. Much as I'd like to keep this information from the energy, I can't. It's another of those things that adds to the anger that I know is underneath, even if I can't feel it.

So, it's back to watching.

*-*-*

We've treated Jacob's injuries. They're really quite extensive, and I'm impressed with the way he's stood up to our treatment. Rebecca has explained that their species is able to block out pain up to a point. Despite what she's said, it's obvious that she felt that Jacob had gone well beyond that capability. He's suffered a lot of pain in order to avoid giving the Initiative full control of his device.

He's told us that they're no longer calling themselves the Initiative. I suppose that's not surprising given the rather ignominious end of their operation in Sunnydale. Now they're called the Defenders of Humanity.

Still, at least they're still limited to our world. The prospect of letting them loose on other worlds .. it causes me to shudder.

When Jacob's comfortable, we share our stories in more detail. It's obvious that Spike told him quite a lot of our background while they were confined together. The suggestion of a mythical group intent on carrying on the work of Blar is chilling. That there could be a group intent on destroying all life on the earth, probably by destroying the child we came to know as Dawn, makes a kind of sense that I really don't want to consider. We never did get to the bottom of who was responsible for Willow's latest attempt on Dawn's life. She has no memory, but something filled her with magic.

Buffy hasn't heard anything we've said. She sitting, cradling Spike in her arms. She's rocking him as if he's a child, and talking to him, begging him to waken. From what Jacob's told us, there's nothing I can think of to do for him. Well, that's not exactly true. Not long after we got back, Buffy asked us to get him some blood. There's certainly some evidence that the ingestion of blood speeds their healing significantly, but whether or not it can repair a damaged brain? I haven't mentioned my doubts, because I don't think she could take it. I called Clem, and he's going to pick up some blood - human - because Buffy thinks that'll be more effective. I've no idea how she thinks she's going to get it into him, but we'll work that out when it's here.

When I glance outside, I can see nothing, but Willow tells me Riley is there, lurking in the shadows outside somewhere. It's just as well we've got tunnel access from the basement. I wrack my brain to try to remember if Riley knows that. I can't think of any way he could, unless Buffy mentioned it to him at some time. Of course, Clem uses that route - at least during daylight. It's not that he's got a sunlight allergy as such, but he does look out of place.

It's been a revelation for me. As a Watcher, I believed that demons were evil. It was black and white. Then there was Angel. Now, I still have some serious problems with him. But, on balance, he seems to be on the side of right, at least for now.

Then, there's Spike. He's still an enigma. I think I could study him for the rest of my life and not come to any firm conclusions. Clem? He's an unknown, except that I'm told that he's one of the gentlest creatures I'll ever meet.

As if thinking of him speeded his arrival, Clem appears at the door from the basement, several bags of blood in his arms. Buffy moves from Spike's side for the first time since they were reunited, and rushes to grab one of them. She applies her teeth to one corner, making a tiny hole, and returns to his side. She pours a few drops onto her finger, and places it inside his mouth. There's no reaction, but she doesn't stop. She repeats the action maybe a dozen times before she's rewarded with a movement. It's not a lot, just a slight movement of his tongue, followed by a small, but definite swallow.

Her reaction is to whisper at us. "He's swallowing, he's swallowing."

I place a hand on her shoulder, trying to show her that I care about what she's doing, but there's really nothing I can add at the moment, so, I approach Anya. She's behind the counter, checking over my totals sheets for the days she was absent. She's clucking irritably at some of my entries, and I know I'm going to hear a lot about my inadequacies in retail eventually, but right now, there's something more important I need to discuss with her.

"Did you find anything?" I ask.

"Of course I did," she replies. "How could you have sold the last of the newt eyes without ordering more? And, you've ordered more sage. There're two boxes of it downstairs. We won't need any more of that for months."

"Anya," I say as gently as I can, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I meant did you find anything to help with Riley?"

She stops what she's doing, looking at me. "Oh, so you're still interested, are you?"

"Yes, Anya, we're interested. It's just that we've had other, more urgent things to deal with. But, if you've got a solution, it could still be useful. Riley's outside, waiting, I assume, for one of us to come out. He still wants to kill Buffy, and while she might be able to defend herself, he had a gun. We've got to assume he still has a gun. If he uses it on her, he might well kill her, and if he doesn't, he'll more than likely kill the baby. We've got to do something. We can't spend our lives looking for him over our shoulders."

She nods, for once without words, and reaches under the counter.

"It's not perfect, but it's the best I could find."

She pulls out a sphere, apparently made of glass. It's a bit like a crystal ball, but it's too dark inside.

"It's a container designed to store magical energy. It's the strongest I could find, but I don't think it'll last very long. It's difficult to guess how long. It could be years, but it could be minutes. It's much stronger than anything available on this world."

"The original sphere," I ask, looking towards Rebecca and Jacob, "that lasted a very long time. Is it available in your world?"

Jacob shakes his head. "I don't think so. There aren't any records of the technology used to make the spheres. I could, perhaps, research and see if I can dig something up, but .. it'll take time."

I sigh deeply. There doesn't seem to be any way out of this. Willow breaks the silence. "How about this?" she begins, sounding less sure of herself than recently.

"I could do the spell to put the energy in the sphere. Then, the sphere could go into a universe of its own. Would that work?"

"It would only work as long as no one ever accessed that universe," Jacob replies. "It couldn't be a universe inside this world. We already know the Defenders have access here. And, it wouldn't be a good idea for it to be a world which was part of our own world. The availability of technology would ensure that sooner or later, the energy would be released."

"There is one possibility," Rebecca suggests, looking to Jacob for approval. "There's a world my father visited. It's got no life at all that's been found, and it's hardly surprising. Going there is extremely dangerous. The ambient temperature is extremely high, and there's extreme volcanic activity. My father visited to gather some data, so it's possible to go there, if you take appropriate precautions, but it should be safe from interference there. And, if it ever failed and was loosed into that world, it couldn't actually kill anything, anyway, well, except the people responsible for releasing it."

"That sounds feasible. What sort of precautions would be needed?" I ask.

"Well, I could just bring the things my father used," Rebecca offers, "but it would mean that the sphere would have to be carried by either Jacob or me. None of you would fit into the protective suits. And anyway, we're the only ones who can create the new universe."

"Willow," I ask, "how close would you have to be to Riley to remove the energy?"

"The closer the better," she tells us. "I could probably do it from where he is now, but the risk of something going wrong is much greater than it would be if he were in the room with us."

"I assume he thinks he's safe from Jenna's spell where he is. Is he correct?"

Jenna nods. "I'm afraid so. The spell takes a great deal of power, and the distance would degrade it significantly."

"And we can't approach him because he's probably armed," I add. "And, even without a weapon, we suspect he's a match for the Slayer due to his, well, infection."

"Where is he, exactly?" Anya asks.

"He's in the alleyway across the street," Willow answers. "It's ideal there, because he can watch the front door, and still see the exit from the alley behind the shop if we were to leave that way."

"I could teleport to right behind him," Anya offers. "But I'd need something - some sort of spell, or something, I could release when I get there."

"We know my immobilisation spell worked before," Jenna offers. "If we could contain it .."

"I have the very thing," Anya pipes up. "These jars are very popular right now, and I've got quite a good stock. They're designed to contain a spell - not for long, the limit's probably a couple of hours, maybe less for this one, but they should be more than enough for what you're planning."

"I'm not sure," Jenna apologises. "I've never tried putting a spell into something like that. It seemed, well, a bit like cheating.."

"It's not cheating if it helps defeat evil," I reassure. "Willow, can you help?"

She smiles, genuinely happy to be of use, it seems. "Sure, I'll help. It's not hard, just a question of keeping the spell focussed - and I'd guess you had to do that the first time, anyway."

"Will the spell immobilise me, though?" Anya wanted to know.

"If you're close to him, yes, it will."

"What if I'm not close, I mean, there's a delay? I could activate the jar, teleport somewhere else, then come back straight away." She pauses, looking pleased with herself, then her brow knits as she thinks again. "Some help to get him back here after would be useful, though."

"No problem," Xander pipes up. I think he's glad to be useful too, even if it's only for a bit of muscle.

My eyes are drawn back to Buffy. She's still feeding Spike, a finger-full of blood at a time. It seems he's swallowing more forcefully than before, but I can't see any other reaction. I'm torn between being with her, supporting her, and the need to sort out Riley. Then I realise, I'm not needed in the Riley camp for the moment, so I can give her the support she needs. I leave the others to their preparations, and crouch on the floor beside my Slayer.

"How's he doing?" I ask.

"Better, I think. He's not waking, but if he can feed .."

"Then there's hope," I say, hoping I sound more reassuring than I feel.

"Do you think he'd suck it from a straw now?" I ask.

"Don't know, but it's worth a try," she agrees.

I know I spotted some straws under the counter a couple of weeks ago. Dawn brought them in one time, although I never did understand why. I find them, and return to the floor.

"Can you sit him up?" I ask.

Buffy shuffles until her back is against the wall, then pulls Spike into a sitting position between her legs, his head lolling onto her shoulder. I dip the straw into the blood, then reverse it, putting the clean end into the red liquid. I offer the blood smeared straw to his mouth, and to our relief, he first licks it, then starts to suck.

This method of feeding is much more efficient than the fingers, and it takes only ten minutes until he finishes the bag. Clem came to sit with us just after we started to use the straw, and he offers another bag. This time, it takes only five minutes to empty the bag. There's still no other sign of life.

"Help me to take him into the training room," Buffy asks. "I think he's had enough for now, he seemed to be slowing down towards the end of that last bag. I'll leave it an hour or so, then try again."

I nod my agreement, and we support Spike's inert body into the other room. Once there, Buffy makes him comfortable on one of the training mats, and curls up behind him, holding him close. She's just lying there, gently stroking his hair, which I notice is curled, and dark at the roots. He looks so human. The vampire I once knew is gone. The too perfect, severe hair, and pale skin is gone. Technically, he might be a demon, but what I see is a man.

I'm dreaming. I know that, yet I can't remember anything else. I know that this is not living, but I have no memory of life. I feel like I'm floating in an endless sea. I'm aware of faces. Many faces, but three of them predominate. One, gives me pain. That face is trying to drown me, trying to destroy me. The details on that face aren't too clear, just the eyes. They're grey, pale grey, and filled with hatred, and glazed with pleasure at my pain. I'm drowning in the pain, and my safety, my deliverance lines in the other two.

One of those faces, is a child. A child growing to womanhood, but a child nonetheless. Chestnut hair, and blue, blue eyes. Heart-shaped face, filled with love, love for me. The simple fact of it is clear in those eyes, as clear as the hate in the grey eyes. She's smiling at me, not speaking, just watching me, just loving me, and the pain is lessened by her presence.

The other face is that of a woman. This face is the easiest for me to see, the one that remains in my mind almost constantly. Unlike the others, this face has a body. A body that causes my body to respond in ways that I know it shouldn't.

Her hair is blonde, her eyes seeming to vary between golden brown and olive green depending on her mood and her expression.

The expressions on that face are so many. She looks on me with love, and she looks on me with hate. The two emotions shift over her face, apparently at random. I see everything in those eyes, love, fear, hate, desire, longing, pain. Her pain is my pain. Her joy is mine too. Looking at her face is to know myself, to see everything that I am, and it's not a picture I want to see. It's joy and it's agony to see, but I can't tear my eyes away. The grey eyes are gradually being banished by hers, her body making me aware of the body that I know is mine, even if it doesn't make itself apparent except in its reaction to hers.

I know I've caused her pain. I know this, and it hurts, like a knife deep in my gut, yet when the pain is at its worst, I see her joy, and I know that somehow, I'm responsible for that too. It lessens the pain, makes it bearable. My feelings for her are .. inappropriate. I want to take her, to make love to her, but I know that I'm so far beneath her that to think of her like that, to defile her with my thoughts, it makes me an animal.

Even when my thoughts are at their basest, as I imagine, as if from memory, how her body responds to mine, she smiles at me. It's a sign of my depravity that I can actually imagine her smiling, enjoying .. things which she could never ..

Then the child returns. Younger this time, a babe in arms, in the arms of her mother, the golden woman, and she's looking at me with love, and I know this dream must be a lie. I could never deserve such love, such joy as to be part of their lives. I'm evil, I've done such dreadful things, but to imagine her like that, is depravity to outmatch everything else. She's an .. angel, to be worshipped, to be adored. To touch her .. is heaven and hell wrapped together. To know that someone touched her, to make her a mother, knowing that it could never be me, undeserving as I am, is pain again, but this time, the grey eyes are back, and they're smiling.

The face of my pain is complete now. She's taunting me, telling me that she'll never be mine, never belong to me. She's with child, but someone else's, someone deserving, someone who's not beneath her, someone who's not me.

*-*-*

The business of fighting evil continues around me. It's strange. I'm the Slayer, it's been my job to be at the centre of that fight for almost as long as I can remember, yet right now, it isn't part of my consciousness.

The only things that are part of my life right now are the man I'm holding, and the child within me. I can't bear not to touch him. It's as if it's the only way I'm sure he's back again. The time without him has been a nightmare which is still hovering in the background, because I'm not certain it's over yet.

He's here, his physical body is here, but that's all, for now. Jacob's words, telling me that his brain might have been destroyed, chilled me to the bone. The thought that the beautiful body in my arms may no longer harbour the man I love fills me with dread.

Unbidden, memories come to mind. They're mixed. The happiest are recent, and they're of the time we had together before he was taken. It's funny, if I'd had to guess the feeling I'd have had immediately before and after Dawn's leaving, happy isn't the word I'd have used. But that period seems to be the only one that truly qualifies.

Other memories are happy, of course they are. Childhood memories of mom, and dad before they split up, special occasions, they were happy, but it now seems that they were incomplete. It's only when Spike was there, loving me, with me allowing him to love me, loving him, that makes the happiness complete.

Sadness comes to mind too. The other times I felt my heart would break. When Dad left. When Mom died. When we lost Dawn. When Angel told me he was leaving. They're memories that no longer cause my heart to constrict, no longer leave me with dread, because I know I survived.

The possibility of losing Spike, that, I know I won't survive. I don't mean I'm going to die if he does, it doesn't work that way. Anyway, with the child I'm carrying, I won't allow it to happen. But, even if my body goes on, if my friends still see me daily, some part of me will die without Spike. It's as obviously true to me as my belief that I will die without oxygen.

I shake my head, trying to dispel the unpleasant thoughts. I force my mind to thoughts of our child. Our Dawn, our Zara. Somehow, she has been able to reach Spike in his dreams. I know she did before, and I think she's been visiting him while he was gone. I'm begging her in my mind, to visit him now, to talk to him, to make him understand how much he's loved and needed. Maybe she can show him the way home.

I don't know how it works. I mean, dream visits from a child in the womb? Not something I'd have taken seriously before, but somehow, I know it's true. It's not just that I've had them too, it's more that I know, or have some inkling now of Dawn's purpose, the purpose that Zara has to grow to fulfil.

Hard as it was coping with the knowledge that my sister was the Key, that she was wanted by a vicious Hellgod, and later, that someone or something was trying to kill her to prevent her fulfilling her purpose, it's harder still knowing that she's my child, mine and Spike's.

I resolve, yet again, to keep her safe. To make sure that she grows to become an adult, beyond the years of her being the Key. She deserves the chance to taste everything that life can offer, the bitter and the sweet, to live to see her children and grandchildren grown. And I'll fight with everything that I am to make sure she can. Except, .. except how can I without Spike?

I keep in my mind the fact that he's had blood. It healed me from an otherwise fatal demon attack, it'll heal his mind, bring him back. I've got to believe that.

His hair is so soft. I stroke it gently. I've never seen it so dark at the roots before, and it's only ever curly like this after a night spent together, sleeping and satisfying that ever-present ache for one another. It seems somehow wrong that it should be like this now, when I need him so much, in every way.

Even these thoughts, along with the proximity of his body are enough to start the heat rising within me. I push it away, that automatic response to him, but it's been so long, and it resists. It resists right up until my mind goes back to the beginning of the loop that it's in. What if he never wakes up? What if Spike is gone, leaving only the body I'm holding? The chill of such thoughts kills the other feelings so completely, that it seems they'll never be rekindled.

Dawn, Zara, talk to him. Lead him home to us, lead him home. My litany resumes, and I try to concentrate on it, to push all other thoughts from my mind, as the business of destroying evil continues around me.

*-*-*

The round of faces continues. Others appear, but their tenure is short, as if they're unimportant. There's a dark woman, with long, red-painted fingernails that move in front of her face, as if weaving a spell. There's a man, equally dark, his eyes filled with menace, and .. evil.

But then they're gone, and it's back to the others. The grey-eyed one is looking irritated now, as if things are no longer going her way. The child is pushing her out of they way, silencing her, telling me without words that she's wrong, that the vision that hovers in my mind, the golden woman and the child, is my future if only I grasp it.

The doubts remain, a long-held belief (from where?) that I could never be a father, the regret of that, something I hid deep inside of me, painful. But the vision doesn't recede, it's still there, and the child is repeating, as if to someone who doesn't understand the language, that it's mine if I wish it.

If I wish it. How could I not? To be part of that, to belong to a family, it's so much more than I deserve. That thought brings back the grey eyes, with a glint of triumph, and I feel the little confidence I'd built up recede, only to feel the blue eyes on me again, chiding me for stepping backwards. They're disapproving, but only insofar as a doting parent disapproves of an unwise choice made by a loved child. Now that's odd. How could a child look at me like that? I'm old. I don't know how old, it's just a feeling I have, a feeling of age without the accompanying wisdom. If the wisdom was there, perhaps I could sort out fact from fiction among my dreams.

The child is pointing to the vision again, to the woman who I know I love more than life itself, even if I can't think of her name. She's smiling at me, beckoning me to look at the child at her breast, to share the wonder of that new life. I feel that if I could just reach out, touch her, I would know if it was real, or a cruel mirage. I stretch my hands towards her, but it's a vision, insubstantial, something I can't reach.

Yet, as I look, the image is alternately fading and becoming clearer, and I realise it's doing so in time to my belief. It's as if, if only I believe in that vision, it can be mine, and there's nothing I could desire more.

Grey eyes return, looking concerned, as if she knows I've solved the puzzle, and a new barrage of sights assault me. I'm in a bathroom, and the golden woman is on the floor, pulling her robe around her defensively, looking at me with pain, .. and the vision recedes, becoming the faintest of shadows, as I'm once again reminded that I'm evil, filthy, obscene, a travesty of a man who could never father a child, could never deserve a love such as hers.

It's amazing how quickly things can change. They've rescued Spike, and along with him, another .. whatever .. like Rebecca. The demon, his name is Jacob I remind myself, looks like he's been through the mill. Spike looks fine, well aside from the fact that he's unconscious. According to Jacob, Spike's pain was all high-tech, and it could have destroyed his brain.

It hurts. It hurts that no one but Anya let me know what happened. I mean, I get that Buffy's pre-occupied, and I can see that the others are too, but there was a time when I was at the centre of the action, but I'm not any more. A niggling voice tells me it's my own fault, that I excluded myself with my reaction to, well, Spike in particular, but Buffy too. It doesn't make it easier, but it at least shows me that maybe, I can put it right.

It hurts me to see Buffy in such pain. That the source of the pain is Spike, well, it makes it hurt a little more, but surprisingly, it's only a little. I love her. I always have, but these days it's the love of a friend. It's taken a while for me to get to the stage where I could say that without any doubts, but I can now. Anya? The woman I love, as a man loves a woman, isn't even human any more, yet I love her. She .. she .. I don't know. She wants me. She wants me in her bed, but I just don't know if she'll ever love me again. But only she cared enough to call me and let me know that everything had changed.

She asked me to come to the store, warning me to come by the tunnel. She didn't explain exactly what had happened, but once here, a lot became obvious. Those who are magically inclined are working on the means of rescuing Riley from his .. whatever. Infection, possession, I don't know.

Giles and Clem are chatting quietly, their eyes on the doorway to the training room, where I know Buffy is lying, curled around Spike, stroking his hair, loving him without thought for anything else. The way she always loves, when she lets herself.

I watched for a while, but I couldn't stay. It was a combination of discomfort at seeing her pain, and feeling that I was witnessing something so personal, so intimate, that I find my face flaming as I remember.

I've known that she loves him for a while. I hoped, at the beginning, that she'd get over it, but I should have known better. She loves with everything she is, it's her greatest strength, and at the same time, it's her greatest weakness.

There's some movement over at the table, and it's obvious that the women are ready for the first part of the rescue operation. Giles and Clem have noticed, too, and we watch as Jenna performs the spell that we hope will incapacitate Riley, focussing it into the jar in front of her. When it's complete, Anya caps the jar triumphantly, then looks around, suddenly nervous again.

She's going to face an armed man, and she's scared. I want to hold her, to tell her that I love her, but I don't know if that will be welcome. She catches my eye, and I decide I don't care what her reaction will be. I approach, and put my hands on her shoulders. Somehow, to put them right around her seems too .. familiar. Considering the things we've done together, that's a very odd notion, but ..

She looks up at me as my hands touch her, her eyes showing clearly the fear and excitement.

"Be careful," I tell her.

She looks at me, and I feel the question on her face. She's confused as to the reason for my telling her that.

"I love you, Anya. Come back safe."

She nods, apparently accepting my words without argument. She doesn't reciprocate, but she doesn't argue either.

She turns away, and takes a second to remind everyone of her plan, then disappears in a flash.

The moments that she's gone seem to go on forever. Willow seems to know what's happening, and keeps the rest of us up to date. At last, she tells us that Anya needs some help. For an instant, I misunderstand, thinking that she's in some sort of trouble, then I realise that she just means that I should go and help to bring Riley into the store.

I run outside, with Giles at my heels. We reach a very relieved Anya, who's apparently holding Riley upright with a single hand on his chest. For the first time I consider the possibility that she doesn't actually need any help.

"You could carry him yourself," I accuse.

"Well, duh, of course I could. It'd just look, well, silly, little thing like me carrying a big hulk like that. How Buffy could let herself get down and dirty with such an enormous .. "

She stops, noting Giles' removal of his glasses, and my embarrassed shuffling.

"Anyway," she continues. "Let's get him back to Willow."

Once back in the store, Giles helps me to take Riley into the training room. There he produces a set of chains, and uses them to secure Finn to some cleats on the wall which are normally hidden by the array of weapons that are stored there.

As we finish, Willow and Jenna come in, closely followed by Rebecca and Jacob.

"I'll get what's needed, then," Rebecca offers. "It shouldn't take too long."

She fiddles with her wrist for a second, and she's gone. All this disappearing is coming to seem almost an everyday occurrence to me. I shudder at the prospect.

Willow sets everything out on the floor, and sits cross-legged opposite Riley.

"Will the rest of you complete the circle?" she asks. "We'll need Buffy as well," she adds, looking at Giles with sightless eyes. He nods and goes to the couple at the other side of the room.

A few moments later, Buffy has joined us, as Willow completes her preparations. Closest to Riley, on either side, are Giles and I. Buffy's next to Giles, and then there's Jacob, and there's space next to him for Rebecca when she returns. On my other side is Anya, and then there's Clem with Jenna completing that side. Apparently, the more people present in the circle, the more secure the spell, the less chance of the energy escaping the circle to infect someone else.

Rebecca appears a few seconds later, dressed in a strange, transparent suit which doesn't seem to do anything other than make her look a little more bulky. She takes up her appointed position in the circle, and Willow begins.

The incantation is long, and in a language I don't understand. Not that that's surprising, because, well, I have enough problems with English. Willow continues, her hair wavering between black and red as she speaks, and her eyes are black. I'm scared, I admit it. I remember the last time I saw dark Willow. I can see Jenna watching Willow carefully too, and I know she's watching for the first sign that there's a problem.

The light level in the room drops, suddenly, and then it's as if Riley is spotlighted. He's glowing, white at first, but it's changing, becoming pinkish, swirling, enveloping him, clinging to him. Willow's words are getting louder, more insistent as she demands (I assume) that the energy leave its human host. I'm noticing a pattern now, the same words repeated over and over, and at last, the energy is being pulled towards the sphere in front of Willow. As it moves, I feel the .. evil. It chills me to the bone. It moves, slowly at first, but gathering speed until it's all contained within the sphere.

As quickly as the light dimmed, it's back to normal. Willow's slumped to the floor, but in front of her there's a sphere filled with angry purplish .. it looks like liquid. Without speaking, Giles lifts the sphere and hands it to Rebecca. She accepts it silently, and as she does so I notice that the sphere is looking less clear than it did a moment ago, as if the surface is cracking.

"Hurry," Giles advises, as Rebecca disappears.

Another interminable time passes. Even Buffy remains with the rest of us, waiting for Rebecca to return so that we can be sure of her success. I move to kneel beside Willow, finding her awake, but looking tired. She reassures me that she's fine, so I return my attention to the spot recently occupied by Rebecca. It seemed to me that the sphere wasn't going to last too long, and I find I'm almost holding my breath.

At last, she's back, looking shaken, but otherwise as she was. Jacob runs to her, enfolding her in a hug. The relief in the room is palpable. Between us, Giles and I help Willow into a chair, watching as she recovers.

"If you're ready?" Giles asks Jenna. She nods, knowing her part in the procedure. She moves her arms, muttering something under her breath, and the spell that had constrained Riley is gone. He slumps in his chains, the gun which was still in his hand, frozen there by the spell, falling to the floor.

He looks .. worse than I've ever seen. Pale and in pain and tired. Then, his face lights up, relief clear on his face.

"It's gone," he sighs. He looks around the assembled company, his eyes lighting on Buffy, but she doesn't notice. As soon as it was obvious that we'd been successful, she turned around, her attention once again focussed on Spike.

Riley's face drops visibly at the sight. He quickly gets it back under control, and smiles at the rest of us as Giles unchains him. I can see from the Watcher's demeanour that he's itching to find out what Riley knows, but even I can see that he's going to need food and sleep before he's of any use to anyone. Then, we've got to work out just how far we can trust Riley. His glance travels around the room, taking in the fact that there were three obvious demons in the group who saved him. He probably doesn't know about Anya, and Buffy didn't think he took her lack of humanity seriously when she told him. Regardless of what happens, he's got some learning to do. And it occurs to me, that I might be the best person to do the teaching. I mean, it wasn't so long ago, I'd have been agreeing with his point of view. It's been a while since I thought I'd be able to teach someone something, unless it has to do with the best way to fit a window, or make a joint for the frame. I just wonder if he'll be willing to learn, or whether he'll just betray us to his friends at the first opportunity.

The possibility of Anya being hurt makes me see red for a moment. At the first sign of any doubtful behaviour, I decide I'd rather kill him with my own hands than let him hurt anyone else in the room. Even Spike. Now, that's a turn up, isn't it?

I'm home. It doesn't seem like it, but it's home. Giles, well, he organised everybody after Willow's idea was successful. Riley's going to stay with him, so he's going back to the apartment he and Willow used when they first came back from England. And then there was the fact that he didn't want me to be left alone with an incapacitated Spike. So, he's vacated my room, and Spike's in my bed. There's been no change in him yet. I fed him again a while ago, so I'm hoping. Hope, it's all I've got left.

Of course there were mutterings before we left. Riley wasn't happy about Spike being in my house, but, surprise surprise, Xander put him straight. I think he's finally coming to accept that I love Spike.

Then there was the obligatory warning from Giles. You know how he does it, when he pulls himself up to his full height and goes all Ripper. He told Riley that at the first sign of any double-dealing, he'd do his best to get him transported to the world where the energy is now probably free. Pale as he was, Riley blanched at that.

Rebecca has taken Jacob home. She's promised to return soon, but wanted to get Jacob's injuries tended by someone who actually understands his anatomy, and I can't blame her. She seems determined to be involved in destroying the so-called Defenders. I want that too, but first I want Spike back. Completely back.

Once we were alone, I pulled off the clothes he was wearing. I know he's never had much variety in what he wears, but he's always cared about his appearance. The clothes he had on were wrinkled and spotted and very un-Spike-like. I was going to dress him again, he'd left a pair of jeans here, but it just seemed like hard work. I mean, those jeans are skin-tight. So I decided to leave him as he was, naked in my bed. At least he looks comfortable.

I leave him for long enough to shower, my ears trained towards him the whole time. I need to sleep. It's been so hard to sleep without him, I'm hoping that just having him close will give me the rest I need so I can do whatever he needs me to do.

I dry myself off, leaving a towel around my body. I wonder why. I mean, the bathroom leads directly to the bedroom, and .. It's just, it feels strange being naked and seeing no reaction from him. There was always a reaction. At the very least there was that raised eyebrow, but more often the tongue on the teeth, and maybe a comment. And that's assuming he was dressed. If he wasn't, the reaction would have been rather more visible.

I brush my hair, untangling it, but don't bother to dry it. I just want to be close to him again, to feel his body close to mine. I put the towel back in the bathroom switch, out the light, and climb in beside him.

There are sounds of movement from Willow and Jenna, but I hardly notice beyond registering that we're not alone. I hear a deep sigh that's almost a moan, and start before realising it's me. Just being close to him like this .. it's like I've come home after a long absence. I try to work out how long it is since I've lain with him like this, but my befuddled brain can't work it out. Math was never my strong point, anyway.

It's funny, lying with him like this. Normally, this proximity would ignite a fire between us, but it's missing, because, apart from his body, Spike's missing. There's an overwhelming feeling of comfort, of home, but the arousal I would normally expect is missing, at least until I close my eyes. Then, I see him, smirking at me, running his tongue over his teeth and ..

Stop. I need to sleep. I repeat this mantra over and over, and then, somehow I know I've succeeded.

I waken with a start. The house is quiet, and a glance at the clock tells me it's three in the morning. Spike is lying as I left him, corpse-like except for the shallow breathing and faint heartbeat.

I try to remember the dream, wondering if it's a hint or just a dream. I decide I don't care. I rummage through my drawer looking for anything suitable. At last I find it, a pack of razors that Spike left here. He doesn't shave often, but .. I pull one from the pack, remembering with a smile the conversation we'd had about his unwillingness to try an electric razor.

"Been doin' it this way for a long time. 'Sides, s'not like there's always an electricity supply close to hand."

I go back to the bed, sitting beside him. I run the razor over my wrist, trying to keep the cut shallow, and place my wrist close to his mouth.

Just like in the dream, his body tenses, then his nose twitches, and he starts to feed. I don't know how long he feeds, but I can feel him changing as he does so. I can't say what it is that's changing, except that he's becoming more Spike.

At last, by the light from the street outside, I see his eyelids flutter, and his tongue slows its lapping. As it stills, his eyes open. They're blank for a while, then slowly recognition dawns. He looks confused, but I'm unable to explain. I don't care that I'm bleeding over the sheets, although I notice that the flow has all but stopped. I launch myself at him, throwing my arms around him and burrowing my face in towards his neck. Almost unsure at first, I feel his arms snake around me, tightening their hold as if he thinks I'm a figment of his imagination. There are no words to explain how I feel, so I won't try.

When I pull away a little, he seems to panic, as if I'm leaving, but all I want to do is look at his face, to see his eyes. When he realises I'm not going anywhere, there's almost a smile. How can he almost-smile when I'm grinning all over my face?

"I thought I'd lost you," I manage.

"You'll never lose me, Pet," he whispers, the look of wonder in his eyes reminding me of his expression when I first told him I loved him, or that first time in the collapsing building. It's humbling to see it, to see in his face how much I'm loved.

Somehow, we've managed to be naked and close and even conscious for a while and we haven't even kissed. I move my lips towards his, determined to put that right. He responds, almost shyly at first, then gently returning the kiss.

We break apart, and he's looking at me as if he can't believe his eyes.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he whispers.

"The pain, the things she said, it's all muddled together. It's like I'm not sure what's real and what isn't."

"I'm real," I tell him, running my hand up and down his back.

"Yeah," he grins, and moves in to kiss me.

Waking in her arms .. well, the phrase 'died and gone to heaven' comes to mind. Except that's not going to happen to me. I've already died, and I woke to fight my way from a coffin. Of course, Dru was waiting for me, the taste of her blood still in my mouth, causing me to crave more of it. I remember how I felt about Dru. Was it Love? It was total absorption, total devotion, total obsession. But was it love? I'd never felt love before, not 'romantic' love. When I think about it, the only love I felt as a human had a good dose of devotion and obsession about it. My mother for example.

What I feel for Buffy is different. Oh, there's the absorption, devotion and a fair helping of obsession, but there's more. There's the feeling that without her, I'm not me. Somehow, she's part of me, the part I never knew existed, but could no longer live without.

The dreams tried to take her from me, but her blood brought me home.

Considering I started human, it's been a pretty twisted path I've travelled. I died, and was 'reborn' a vamp, courtesy of Dru. Then, I dusted and was sent back by a glowing child I don't even pretend to understand. And now this. I suppose, technically, I wasn't dead this time. But I might as well have been. Dawson really did a number on me. Once I was weakened by the pain, she talked to me. I heard her voice in my head, telling me all the things I knew already. That I was worthless, that I didn't deserve to be loved, that it wasn't possible for Buffy to really love me. And without her love, I couldn't possibly live.

I knew that nothing could reach me where I cowered in the darkness. Well, Dawson told me that, and she'd been right about everything else, or at least that's how it seemed to me. But, somehow, Buffy found me. The taste of her blood was the only thing that could have penetrated the barriers that surrounded me.

Real memories are still hazy. They're fading in and out a bit, but Buffy being there, offering her blood to me, that was all the reality I needed at first. I didn't even know where I was, the feeling of her hands on my skin, the sight of her face, so overwhelming that other senses seemed to just give up. Gradually, the world around us came into focus. We were in her bed, and there were others in the house. But, even these thoughts had to wait until our immediate physical needs were, no, not sated, more, brought to a manageable level. We made love with a gentleness, a silence that I can hardly believe now, but then, it seemed the only possibility. It was all about touch and sight, taste and smell, and somehow sound was superfluous.

Then, we talk, mere whispers, telling each other about what happened. She guides my hand to her stomach as she tells me that she is pregnant. She looks deep into my eyes as she says the words, desperate to see my reaction, but how could she doubt it?

"I had a dream .." I tell her. "Dawn, she was there, but she was a baby, our baby. Is that it? Or just a dream, some sort of cruel joke?"

"That's it," she reassures me. "She's coming back to us, our daughter."

"Zara," I offer.

She nods. "Zara Renee. Dawn reborn."

"Are you ok?" I ask, suddenly afraid for her.

"I'm fine. Been under a bit of strain recently, of course, but right now, I've never been better."

I stroke her face, noticing that she's lost weight and that she looks tired. Despite that, she's never looked more beautiful to me.

"They say it makes a woman glow," I say. "And you are, you're glowing."

"And no radioactive dress in sight," she quips.

I can't describe the wonder I feel. Everything about it is somehow so much more than I deserve. I'm going to be a father. Well, never thought that'd happen. Having a child with Buffy? Even better, but somehow it just makes the reality seem more like a dream. And Dawn's my daughter. Suppose I should start thinking about her as Zara. It just couldn't get any better.

She's looking at me, a question on her face. I can't help it, my eyes are filling with tears. I dreamed about it, but during the nightmare, it just seemed to be a cruel jest, offer me everything I could hope for, then pull it away.

"Are you pleased?" she asks. How could she wonder?

"Pleased doesn't come close," I reassure her, holding her tighter and burying my face in the crook or her neck.

She knows that I'm struggling to keep the tears from flowing, and she changes the subject. She tells me what's been happening while I've been away. About Willow's new sight. About Jacob and Rebecca. About how they rescued me. About Riley turning up with a gun. Another score I've got to settle, and my body tenses as I realise what could've happened.

"It wasn't him," she says, softly, recognising my reaction for what it was.

"Are you sure?" I ask. "I mean, I'm not human, hell, you're not human. We both fit nicely into his definition of 'SubT'."

"I know, but .. but something's making him feel like that. His fear about this thing that was in him, it's not normal. I think, I think he's been brainwashed too. Maybe all of them. I mean, they experimented with their bodies, why not their minds too?"

It doesn't make it any easier to deal with, but maybe it explains a bit of it. Still, he wanted to kill my girls. I won't forget that.

I feel relief that Jacob is safe. And sort of pleased that I might see him again. For a while, I think it was only him that kept me from losing it completely.

The sun's rising outside, and we're still lying together, still loath to move any part of us out of contact with the other. This is real, lying with her like this. I'm half afraid that when I'm not touching her any more, it won't be real, but as we hear movement outside the door, I know it won't be long.

I was right. There's a quiet knock on the door.

"Buffy? You awake? Anything I can get you?" It's Willow's voice. I know she's blind, but that she's somehow using her magic to see, but that's hard to take in.

Buffy calls back, "Just a minute," before giving me a short kiss on the lips and pulling herself from the bed. I think she's worried Willow might just come in. She pulls on a wrap, and goes out into the hallway. My initial reaction is one of total loss. She's gone, I can't touch her, and the despair starts to gather again. I push every sense I have out to try to find her, and then I do, mere inches away, in the hallway. Of course, a little thing like a closed door doesn't stop me from hearing every word.

"Spike's awake," Willow tells Buffy.

"Yeah, how did ..?"

"Well, I kinda, felt him, you know, when I woke up? It was like he wasn't there before, and then he was. And, even if I couldn't, I don't know what else could make you give out all these 'happy vibes'."

Buffy laughs at that. It's a laugh that's a joy to hear.

"Can you call Giles, let him know? And Xander?"

"Sure," Willow answers. "How do you feel about breakfast? I could bring something up. Not sure what we've got, but, toast, maybe an egg or two?"

"Thanks, Will. You ok with that?"

"Haven't had a mishap in the kitchen for a few days, so I'm getting better. Besides, I need the practice. I'll just leave a tray outside, is that ok?"

Seconds later, Buffy's here again, the wrap discarded, and that sweet contact is back. Somehow the thought of not touching her is less difficult now, but it's still not welcome.

It's much later when we get up. I don't think either of us wanted to move, but there are things to do. The routine of living, of being the Slayer, doesn't stop just because we've been separated for a while.

The message that comes from Willow as soon as we show our faces is that Giles wants to see us. He's obviously been talking to Riley, and he wants to know what I know about where I was held and what they did to me. I'm not sure how much help I'm going to be - I only saw what they wanted me to see, and my memory's still fuzzy on details even then.

When we get to the Magic Box, the others are all there. No Riley, I notice, but before I can comment, Buffy asks the question.

"Where is he?"

Giles looks momentarily bemused by the question, then realises.

"Riley? He convinced me of the necessity that he not be seen with any of us, so he's gone. He's going to try to find a way into the organisation, what do they call themselves now? Defenders of humanity?"

He makes a sound that eloquently shows just what he thinks of that.

"So, Spike, do you feel like telling us what happened to you? Jacob told us some things, but it'd be useful if you would share it with us, from a personal point of view."

I nod, pulling up a chair at the research table next to Buffy. Her hand leaves mine, but immediately takes up residence on my leg, the contact giving me strength.

"Some of it's still fuzzy," I start. "They've been playing games with my brain, worse than the chip. But I'll try."

I pause for a few seconds, gathering my thoughts. "The first thing they did was use me as a guinea pig. They cut bits out of me, took all sorts of samples, did experiments on me, but they kept me unconscious for most of it. Funny anaesthetic, though, stopped me fighting, just didn't kill the pain at all, and gave me nightmares to account for it."

"Then it was different. They finished taking samples, checking me out. Jacob said they were trying to clone me. Bloody stupid idea that, but I don't know what happened to the samples. They moved me. Dawson was involved in the first part, but there were a lot of them then. When they moved me, there was only her. It was as if she had a different .. agenda. What she did then, that was personal. Don't know what I've done to her, but that's how it seemed."

"It started with a noise. Didn't seem like anything special, but she told me it was designed just for me. And when I heard it, something fired in my brain, giving me pain - a bit like the chip, but going on as long as the noise. At first, that's all that happened. She zapped me, and asked questions."

"After a while, I'm not so sure. I think she could meddle with my memory too, but .. Anyway, then, the pain would do something to me. It'd be like I wasn't anywhere. Couldn't see, hear or feel anything around me except her face, her voice and the pain. I think that's when she told me things, but I didn't remember, not at the time. But, before I woke, I was .. dreaming. Dreaming about her voice, her face, telling me things I already knew, that I didn't deserve .. anything. Then she was showing me things, making me imagine things, Buffy with Riley, with Angel, with .. others, with anyone but me. She made me believe I had no reason to waken. I was lost, and that's what she wanted."

I pause then, the crushing weight of the doubts she re-enforced threatening to overwhelm me.

"I had a dream too, it told me I had to offer him some blood," Buffy tells the others. She describes her dream, in more detail than she'd already shared with me. The others listen, with interest, and Giles interrupts occasionally asking her to clarify something. I wonder why he didn't ask me anything, and then I know. He did want to, he tried to catch my eye more than once, but I just wanted to tell the tale and be finished with it. Describing my feelings like this in front of the whole gang isn't something I'm comfortable with. Not very Big Bad, now is it?

"Dawn helping again," Giles muses when Buffy's finished. "Or something masquerading as Dawn because it knows you'll both trust her."

"It was her," Buffy insists. "Well, her or Zara. Don't know which name's more appropriate."

The mention of the Bit, brings back the realisation that everything's even more perfect than I have any right to know.

Giles clears his throat. "So, Dawn's still helping, and you two still have the job of protecting her until she's old enough to become the Key. Because of this, we've got to consider the possibility that this whole business with Spike has more relevance than just the Defenders' animosity against demons, or their wish to build further creatures they can control. Although the possibility of an army of Spikes is hardly something to give me pleasant dreams, the more immediate danger is that the Defenders as a whole, or some members within that organisation, are intent on destroying Dawn. Spike, your suggestion that there were two separate agendas at work could be the clue. I think we should ask Riley to make an investigation of this Dawson his first priority if and when he has access to such information."

"There's also the possibility that Jacob mentioned, that there could be some sort of cult at work here. He implied the cult was a legend, rather than known fact, but I've had to deal with too many 'legends' to assume that's all it is. The cult is supposed to be a group, originally from Jacob's world, and the members are intent on carrying on the work started by Blar, who was originally responsible for the energy which was contained in the Orb of Fire. If they exist, such a group would certainly have a reason for wanting to make sure that this baby is never born."

That's right, Watcher. Now I've got just about everything I could want out of life, he's just made it clear that there're whole bands of people out there desperate to take it all away from me. Still, I'm back, and they've got no idea how hard I'm willing to fight for them. If they make one move to hurt my girls, they'll find out just what I'm capable of.

It's taken me a while, but a couple of days ago, I was allowed back on active service. Because of my recent 'traumatic experiences', I've even managed to wangle an in to the Sunnydale group. Their base is another part of the old Initiative complex - one I didn't realise was still active, even while I was working on the artefacts that included the Orb of Fire. The entrance is an unassuming office block, but the base itself is underground. They want me to get involved with a project aimed at providing us with soldiers to help in the fight against demons by using demons. Of course, they will also potentially be useful against humans too, but no one's saying much about that.

The officer charged with showing me around seems pleasant, I even think I recognise her from somewhere, although it was a long time ago, on another mission, in what seems like another life. My first job is to get up to speed with what's going on, then I'll be providing supervision for the scientists who're actually pushing forward the project.

By the time my tour's finished, my mind's reeling from the implications of what's happening here. I'm left in my new office, with a pile of paperwork to read, and .. The things I heard from Giles, the things I picked up from the others.. they were right, but the scale of it is unimaginable.

They've set up a cloning factory. The original plan was just to breed certain types of demons, but that hit problems. The demons who'd be most useful to them are by definition strong and tend towards being aggressive. If there's one thing they learned from the problems the Initiative had, it's that keeping significant numbers of that type of demon around isn't a good idea. They looked at alternatives - transplanting embryos to less aggressive mothers, but they had no success. Then they had a stroke of luck. I told them that Spike was back, and they picked them up. The tests they did on him showed him to be unique, in their experience anyway. He was also ideal for what they had in mind.

He's strong, he heals quickly, he's intelligent, and best of all he looks human. As far as they're concerned he's the ideal subject, and add to that the fact that he's proved controllable in the past, and they're convinced that if they can get their hands on him from a young enough age, he'll be completely tractable.

Then there's the problem. They believe he's unique, so they can't breed more of them by normal means. So, they're cloning. I hadn't realised cloning had gone beyond sheep, but the technicalities of producing lots of embryonic Spike's seems to be considered a standard. The problem is finding a suitable surrogate mother.

Of course, I know something they don't. I know, or at least I've been told, that Spike's not the only one of his kind in existence. There's another one, and what's more, she has the potential to be an ideal surrogate mother. She also happens to be someone I care deeply about.

I already know that she's carrying his child. Somehow, that makes me feel uncomfortable. Not the fact that she's carrying his child, although I can't say that gives me warm fuzzies. No, what's giving me that creepy feeling inside is the idea that they would use Buffy that way. That they would consider her child to be something they could use for their experiments. I make a mental note to tell Giles that Buffy should keep the paternity of her child quiet. If these people find out, I mean, as far as they're concerned, Buffy's the Slayer, but she's human. If they ever find out otherwise ..

I go back to the file. The most recent comments deal with the fact that Spike's no longer being held. There aren't any details of how he escaped, or of where he was being held, but there is some irritation about the fact that it happened. The implication is that they have enough samples of him for it not to be an immediate problem.

Dawson's only been mentioned as the author of some reference papers on the behaviour control chips. From what I've seen here, they're a lot more sophisticated than the one we put in Spike. The details aren't in these files, and I make a note to ask for copies of the full specs of those new chips.

I've set up a contact system with Giles. I've got to assume that my phone will be bugged, and my computer system will be monitored. I also know that there was a system under development which can recognise demons and those who have contact with them using pheromones, so I can't have any direct contact either. The best we've come up with is the basement of the Magic Box. I can get in there using the tunnels, and I can either leave messages, or if it's important enough meet with Giles or one of the other humans there. I've heard Giles' summary of Spike's report on the time he was held, and my initial doubt has been diminished by reading what's in front of me.

I think again about Buffy. I know they think my loyalty to them is only because of their threat to re-infect me with that energy, but they're wrong. If the people I'm working for get any idea that Buffy's the same as Spike, she'll end up being treated exactly as they did him. And I'm not going to allow that to happen. It's difficult, I'm not saying it isn't. In the military, your loyalty is to the service. There's no other way. But, I've already defied orders because of Buffy, and I'm ready to do it again. Whatever she is, she seems exactly as she was before, except for the being pregnant bit. Even the liking for demons isn't new.

Then there's the other thing. There were more demons than humans in the group that set me free. They were helping me, and they weren't human, and they knew what I thought about demons. It feels like my world's been turned upside down, and I'm just holding onto one thing, one person. Buffy.

So, I carry on reading, finding out what I can. Dawson's going to have to wait though. She might be my priority, but I can't rush things. If I'm too keen to find out about her, it'll blow my cover completely. So, I'll take it one step at a time, and try to make sure that my true loyalties aren't discovered. It's not that I'm scared what'll happen to me. I've already lost everything that's important to me. No, what's important now is Buffy and the child she's carrying. Even if I'd gladly strangle the child's father, there's nothing else I can do.

The thing about Spike is that I started hating him because he was a demon. Simple. Then, I hated him even more because Buffy seemed to care about him in some way. It wasn't a lot, not at first, she just seemed to be determined that he didn't get dusted. Then I got to know him. And now? I reckon I'd hate him if he was human and had never met Buffy Summers. For a start, he's just .. not American. I mean, he doesn’t respect the things I do. He's rude, and he doesn't care about following rules. He's exactly the sort of guy I've hated since I was in grade school. And the funny thing is, I think he hates me for the exact opposite reasons.