Seven minutes later Spike gently nudges Buffy awake. She sits up and rubs her eyes. Spike swings the DeSoto into Angel's underground garage. Spike steps out of the car. He knocks on the driver-side passenger door window. Giles jerks his head back.

"Rise and shine, mate."

Giles nods and sits up. He smoothes the wrinkles out of his suit. He opens his door. He feels a tugging on his hand. He looks over his shoulder and sees Willow, tears in her eyes. Giles' eyes soften.

He smiles and squeezes her hand. Willow smiles and lets go. The group walks up to the elevator and buzz to be let in.

"Tell me again. Why are they coming here? I mean don't they have anything in their lives back in Sunnyhell?"

Doyle looks at Cordelia and sighs. Angel leans against his desk. He crosses his arms and stares at Cordelia. Cordelia looks at both of them.

"What?… Am I to be punished for stating the obvious?"

BUZZ…BUZZ

Angel jumps from the desk. He walks to the intercom, punching it on.

"Buffy? Is that you?"

"Yeah, she's here and so am I, or don't I get a hi and hello from my poof of a sire?"

"Spike."

"The one and only."

"Wait a second and you all can come on in."

BUZZ…BUZZ

The door to the elevator opens. The group enters it and goes up to the suite of rooms that make up Angel's office and apartment. The elevator stops and the doors open again. Angel stands in front of the doorway. He puts his hand on the elevator door and pushes in the

door spring to keep it from closing. He looks directly at Buffy.

"Hi."

Buffy looks at Angel, feeling a sad moment in her heart.

"Hi."

Spike doesn't like this exchange, at all. He puts his arm possessively around Buffy's waist and pulls her off the elevator.

After Willow and Giles exit the lift, Angel lets go of the door. He walks over to Cordelia and Doyle.

"Buffy…all of you, except Willow, I guess, this is Doyle. He helps me with my work here. Of course you already know Cordelia."

Doyle steps forward. He shakes Giles and Willow's hands. He shakes Spike's hand. He goes to shake Buffy's hand and a low growl emanates out of Spike's chest. Buffy smacks Spike lightly on the arm before grasping Doyle's hand firmly. Doyle takes one last look at Spike.

"As much as I luv havin' ev'ryun know m' name, I would also like t' know all o' yers."

Angel steps forward shyly. The females giggle.

"Sorry, Doyle. Um… This is Giles. You already know Willow. The one who growled at you is my rude, uncivilized childe, Spike. And last but, not least, this… is Buffy."

A look of realization crosses Doyle's features. He nods again at the group. Doyle notices how Spike tightens his grip on Buffy and pulls her closer. The tension in the room is thick. Doyle steals a glance at Cordelia. She's as helpful as usual, giving him a slight shrug. Smacking his hands together, Doyle clears his throat.

"So, why don't we just be on our way, already."

Everyone nods in agreement. Angel, Cordelia and Doyle turn toward the doors leading to the street. Giles, Willow, Spike and Buffy follow. Cordelia notices the way Spike is holding Buffy firmly around the waist.

"God, just hold her a little tighter, why don't you…"

Spike turns toward Cordelia, pulling Buffy with him.

"…It's a good thing you're not actually letting her walk on her own because she's bound to lose all her circulation from the waist down soon. (looking at Buffy) How can you stand to let him hold you like that? Like some kind of possession? I mean, you never had the best

taste in men (pointing at Angel), you gave him a happy and he turned evil, but at least he wasn't surgically attached to your hip."

Everyone stares at Cordelia. Doyle is the first to recover.

"Cordelia, when yoo were in school did they ever teach something called `tact.'"

"What do you mean?"

Doyle points toward the group and then at Cordelia. At some point, Doyle is pointing with both hands, in different directions. He puts his hands up in the air, palms out. He's about to walk away when he suddenly falls hard to his knees. He bangs his head against the

floor. A swirling vision enters his head.

**VISION**

A flash of an Asian woman's face. Her long black hair shimmers in the moonlight.

A group of hooded commandos. Their black guns and fatigues

camouflage them from their prey's sight.

The front of a club. The sign over the door says, "Arena."

***

Angel steps forward to help Doyle but, Cordelia rudely pushes him away. She kneels next to Doyle. She grabs his arm and pulls him up onto his feet. Doyle leans on her, breathing hard. Cordelia looks at him and for a brief second everyone sees something they've never

seen before - Cordelia Chase wearing a look of concern for someone other than herself.

"Doyle, was it another vision?"

Doyle looks weakly into Cordelia's eyes. He nods. Cordelia pushes away from him quickly, leaving him to fall onto the floor again. She turns back to find Angel holding Doyle up.

"Damn it, Doyle. We're supposed to go out tonight. This is supposed to be my night off. Can't you just fax whoever it is that gives you these visions and request a vacation day."

Finally, regaining enough energy to stand on his own, Doyle approaches Cordelia.

"I'm so sorry Cordelia that me mind-numbin', extremely painful experiences are such a rain on yer party parade."

Angel walks over.

"Enough. What was the vision, this time, Doyle?"

"Pretty vague – again. An Asian woman. Some masked guys, possibly military, are following her. At some club in Hollywood. I think the name o' it is the `Arena.'"

Angel nods.

"Arena huh? I know this club. It's a techno club. Real dark. Real popular amongst the younger crowd…"

Angel turns toward Buffy.

"…I don't want to ruin your vacation. This is something we have to do but, you're more than welcome to go on without us…"

Angel looks at the former Harvest Queen.

"…Not YOU, Cordelia. You need to come along with us."

Cordelia frowns but, she quickly heads to the office. When she returns, she's holding a day planner and a large bag. She's walks over to Angel and thrusts the bag at him.

"My night may be ruined but, there is no way I'm carrying this bag."

Angel, Cordelia and Doyle turn to leave but are stopped by Buffy.

"I'll probably kick myself for this later but, can we come?"

The front of the Arena is dark. The only light comes from two fluorescent bulbs over the door. Standing outside, one can feel the beat from inside the club. Two big bouncers stand by the door and check IDs. Two young people stand in front of the door. The bouncer

gestures for them to hand over their IDs. They quickly hand over the cards and stand grinning a little too widely. The bouncer steps into the light. He's at least six feet tall. He weighs at least 260lbs..

He turns the cards in the light. He hands them back to the young couple and then stands in front of the doors.

"Come back when you have a real one."

The couple's faces fall. They turn and walk away.

The couple turns the corner and runs right into a small crowd of people. The couple looks up. Something seems off about the group, as if, they don't belong here, in this place, or at least not together. Or was it the feeling, the aura that lingers about them, making the young couple wrap their arms around each other a little tighter.

Spike and Buffy note the scared looks on the couple's faces as they pass by. Spike and Buffy know the look. They've seen it before. Buffy tightens her hold on Spike, leaning against him. Spike wraps an arm around her shoulders. They walk together, turning the corner in sync.

Behind Willow and Giles, Angel, Doyle and Cordelia bring up the rear. They walk slowly. Doyle looks at Buffy and Spike walking in front. Doyle looks at Angel, shakes his head and sighs.

"Angel, Angel, Angel, Why, aren't yoo lookin' just a wee bit more broodish than normal? It wouldn't be because o' that wee bit o' sunshine ahead o'us, would it?"

Angel looks down at Doyle.

"Not now, Doyle. We have work to do."

"'Tis troo. We `ave a case but, wouldn't our aims be better met if yoo happened t' look somewhere other than a' the Slayer?…"

Angel frowns.

"…Angel, buddy, listen t' me. It's time. Time t' moove on. She obviously has."

Angel growls softly.

"Angel. Look at `er. She's content… You could be, too."

Angel looks at Doyle.

"What do you mean by that, Doyle?"

Doyle nods in the direction of Willow.

"She's been around an awful lot lately. And, between yoo and me, I don't think it's because o' Cordelia."

Angel smiles.

"Willow is… She's Buffy's friend."

"She's unattached."

Angel looks at Doyle.

"I don't think so, Doyle."

"What's the matter. Is it forbidden fruit that yer lookin' for? What?"

"Any human is `forbidden fruit' and you know it."

"Angel, Buffy has mooved on. In front o' yoo is a beautiful,intelligent young woman, already aware o' yer condition."

"She's so young… and naïve… and innocent…"

"Quite frankly, she's also not in love with someone else."

Willow walks in the middle of the group with Giles to her right. They steal occasional glances at each other. They discuss various topics of interests. They wear identical looks of shock and surprise when Angel appears on Willow's left. Willow recovers first.

"Angel! What can I do for you?"

Angel smiles at the question.

"Oh just getting bored back there.(leaning toward Willow) I don't know if you've noticed but Cordelia and Doyle have this hate – love thing going on."

Willow suppresses a laugh. Suddenly. A look of astonishment covers her face.

"You made a joke. Wow. L.A. must be starting to have a good influence on you. When the semester started a few weeks ago, you were barely at the stop brooding stage."

Angel smiles again.

"I think it's just a defense mechanism against them. (Nodding his head toward Doyle and Cordelia)"

Willow leans in toward Angel.

"Ah! So you've learned the secret to surviving Cordelia."

Angel laughs. Willow smiles. Giles frowns. Giles doesn't like the way this is going at all. Angel is walking closer to Willow than Giles cares for. Giles touches Willow's arm as he clears his throat.

"Willow. Well. We're at the club… Angel, would you like to tell us how you normally investigate a-a vision?"

Spike, Buffy, Willow and Giles surround Angel. Angel looks at Willow once more before returning to the task at hand.

"Right. We go in. We look for signs of trouble. We find the person in trouble. We save her."

Buffy looks at Angel strangely.

"And this works?"

Angel looks back at Buffy.

"It has so far."

The group enters the club. It's very dark inside. The only light comes from well-placed dim bulbs and the flickering club lights nearby. The club is split-level. The lower level is one large dance floor with a few sparse chairs and benches. Two long, metal staircases, on opposite sides of the club, separate the two levels. The upper level has a bar and a small lounge. It looms over the dance floor, creating a catwalk effect for the lucky few able to find room to lean over the small balcony. Angel turns to the rest of the group.

"We need to spread out. Group One: Doyle, Cordelia… and Giles – Go to the second level, check out the bar. Group Two: Spike. Buffy. – stay by the door. Willow, you and I will check out the dance floor. "

Willow and Giles exchange wary looks as they head in opposite directions. Spike and Buffy start to mingle into the sea of people hanging around the doorway. Cordelia and Doyle try to look inconspicuous but Giles is hard to miss – A stiff suit in a sea of vinyl and fake leather. Willow and Angel make their way around the club. The music is loud. The beat drums through their bodies. Angel and Willow find a not so loud place. Willow touches Angel's arm.

"Do you see anything!?"

Angel shakes his head. He leans in closer.

"Sometimes these things take awhile."

"So what do we do in the meantime?"

Angel looks at Willow. He looks past her at the dance floor and smiles.

"Would you care to dance?"

Willow gulps.

"You dance?"

"Yeah. Occasionally."

Willow looks toward the upper deck.

"Won't it be hard to check things out if we're dancing?"

"Actually, if we just stand here, then the people around us are going to start thinking we're Narc.s or something. It's better for our cover to try to blend in."

Willow takes one last look at the upper level.

"Umm…Okay."

Giles leans against the balcony and looks out over the writhing mass of people below. He sees Spike and Buffy over at the door. Their dance suited better to a hotel floor than a dance floor. He looks for anything out of the ordinary however, he's not too sure what

normal is at this establishment. A man, dressed as a woman with bad make-up, dances with a woman who is wearing a suit, her hair tucked under her hat. Groups of people, in tight circles, dance and sing. Willow and Angel dance closely. A female Goth dances alone. Giles does a double take. In the middle of the dance floor, Angel and Willow are dancing. The crowd, surrounding them, pushes them very close to one another. Angel whispers something into Willow's ear. Willow smiles. Giles' heart falls. He pushes himself away from the guardrail and walks over to the bar.

Over at the bar, Doyle and Cordelia sit on barstools, facing out, their elbows on the counter top and their backs pressed against the bar. They look over at the people in the lounge. Cordelia leans toward Doyle.

"Does anyone look familiar, Doyle?"

Doyle takes one last hard look for measure.

"No. Nobody like `er."

Cordelia raises an eyebrow.

"She was really something, huh?"

Doyle looks at Cordelia.

"Not like yoo, princess, but still, she had something about'er. I couldn't quite put m' finger on it."

Cordelia looks straight ahead.

"Who knows, maybe you knew her in another life OR she could be your soul-mate."

Doyle looks at Cordelia. He notices for the hundredth time how beautiful she is.

"Maybe we should take a look over at the balcony."

Cordelia shrugs and follows Doyle over to the balcony.

On the floor, Spike runs his hands down Buffy's body. They bounce and gyrate against one another. Spike looks over at the door just in time to see an Asian girl rush in. She scans the room, her scared eyes searching the room. Behind her, two men enter the club, dressed in fatigues. Spike taps Buffy on the shoulder and glances at the girl. Buffy responds with a nod. She looks up at the balcony. Buffy waves to Doyle and Cordelia. Doyle slaps Giles on the back just as Giles kicks back a brandy shot. After a brief coughing spell, Giles descends the stairs. He sees Willow and Angel still dancing below. He charges through the mass of bodies. Reaching them, he grabs Angel's arm. Angel turns in surprise. Giles turns toward the door before looking back at Angel.

"The one, you came to help, entered the club a few minutes ago."

Angel looks up, scanning the room, he finds Spike following two men.

"Yeah, two guys are following her."

Frowning, Angel quickly looks at Willow. Angel nods.

"Try to make your way to the door."

Angel walks toward Spike to intercept the men. Willow looks at Giles. He stands stiffly.

"Giles?"

Slowly, Giles turns away from Willow, his fists clenched at his sides.

Spike looks back startled by a firm hand closing over his shoulder. Angel cocks his head in the direction of the soldiers. Together, they loop in from different sides. Spike grabs one and pushes him behind a lighted screen. To the dance floor below, it looks like two men are writhing in an intimate embrace. They clutch each other while one of the men nuzzles the other's neck. A few seconds later, one of the guys goes limp and is pulled away. A series of "whoops" sound off around the club. The commando is deposited in a nearby chair, appearing to be sleeping it off. A mischievous grin on his face, Spike licks a few stray drops of bloodoff his lips before heading for the door.

Angel stalks his prey. He sees the man following the Asian girl. The girl glances over her shoulder and sees the soldier. A look of pure fear crosses her otherwise beautiful features. Angel sees a dark corner approaching. Seizing the moment, Angel pushes the

commando into the dark shadows. Hitting the wall hard, the man waits a moment before spinning around, searching the darkness for whoever it was that hit him. The commando looks left. The commando looks right. He looks left again only to find himself face to face with a very angry Angel. The demon at the surface, eyes glowing, Angel grasps the man's chin and neck firmly.

"Why are you following that girl?"

"What business is it of yours?"

"Wrong answer."

Angel smashes the man against the wall. He presses his hand against the man's windpipe.

"In a minute or two, if I don't remove my hand, you'll be dead."

Angel never notices the man reach into his pocket. The soldier fumbles with something, before nodding to Angel. Angel releases his hand. Quickly, the man brings his hand up to his mouth and swallows a liquid. He flicks the vial at Angel. The soldier smiles a smug

grin as he slides down the wall. A long drawn breath and the poison has run its course. Angel stands in shock. He looks at the soldier and shakes his head.

At the door, Buffy and Cordelia intercept the Asian girl. The duo try to get her to talk but the female stranger wants nothing to do with either of them. The Asian female pushes away from them and exits the club. Buffy and Cordelia motion to the rest of the team to

follow them as they also exit the club. Outside, they see the woman turn a corner and head down a dark street. In pursuit, Buffy and Cordelia keep looking back, making sure that the rest of the gang is quickly catching up. Three blocks later, two dark vans pull up. One

cuts off the girl, making her stop dead in her tracks. The woman tries to turn and run but, stops as the other van pulls in behind her. About a half dozen fatigued individuals get out of each van. Slowly, they approach the frantic female.

Buffy, Spike, Angel and Doyle run toward the soldiers. The commandos hear the approaching footsteps. They turn and raise their guns. A flurry of gunfire erupts in the alleyway. Spike pushes Buffy behind a dumpster, just in time to avoid a bullet. Willow and Giles approach the melee cautiously. They watch in awe as Angel reaches out, grabbing a commando by the head and twists. The man falls limply at Angel's feet. Two soldiers grab the Asian girl. Doyle runs after them. He punches one of the commandos in the lower back, right in the kidneys. The soldier falters. From behind another dumpster, Cordelia watches as Doyle takes a swing at the other soldier. A few feet away, the other commandos are still firing

their guns. Spike takes three bullets. Angel takes two. Willow stands up from behind a metal grate. Giles reaches for her but she avoids his grasp. She slips her hand up her sleeve and retrieves a small ivory handled blade. Buffy sees Willow stand. She tries to

come out from behind the dumpster, but a stray of bullets forces her back. Willow faces east. A soldier raises his gun. Willow holds the athame in her right hand, the blade pointing away from her. The soldier aims carefully. Willow's voice rings out.

"Come hither, spirits of the east wind,

I command thee by the name Yod He Vau He,

King of Air…"

A high pitched scream is heard by all as Spike grabs a soldier's wrist, breaking the delicate bones found there. Doyle's swing misses its mark. Spike grabs another man by the shoulder and jerks him up. Willow turns toward the south.

"Come hither, spirits of the south wind,

I command thee in the name of Adonai,

King of Fire…"

Spike's demon comes forward, barring his fangs. A soldier grabs Doyle from behind, pulling Doyle's arms behind him. Willow turns toward the west.

"Come hither, spirits of the west wind,

I command thee by the name Eheieh,

King of Water…"

Angel smacks the gun out of the hands of a startled soldier. A commando starts to punch a defenseless Doyle. Spike sinks his fangs into the struggling soldier's neck. Willow turns toward the North.

"Come hither, spirits of the north wind,

I command thee by the name Agla,

King of Earth."

A swirling gust of air rushes through the alley. Cordelia tries to stay in her hideout but, is pushed out into the open by the gale force winds. Spike and Angel are tossed off balance. The wind shocks the commandos, forcing many to hit the deck. The wind pushes

Doyle forward toward Cordelia. Buffy struggles against the wind, fighting helplessly, trying to reach Spike. The female stranger covers her face with her arms, falling to her knees.

As suddenly as the wind began, the wind stops again. Instantly, a soldier jumps up, wrapping an arm around the neck of the Asian stranger. Spike stands up and runs to Buffy whose kneeling on the ground. Willow stands in a trance, her hands up toward the sky.

Cordelia stands in a daze, slightly wobbling. Doyle sees a soldier raise his gun in Cordelia's direction. Some shots ring out. Giles runs out, grabbing Willow around the waist and dragging her behind a metal grate. A scream sounds. Buffy looks up to see the Asian female being pulled inside one of the vans. The other soldiers start to retreat. Cordelia turns and looks into the eyes of a man pointing a gun at her. Doyle runs toward Cordelia. The soldier squeezes the trigger.

**BANG**

"NNnnnnoooO!"

**BANG**

**BANG**

In a smoke filled chamber, six hooded figures stand. They wear black satin robes with matching black satin belts. Their garments have red symbols on the lapels and felts. An altar sits before them. A pentagram in a circle rests at their feet. One of the cloaked figures enters the symbol. He raises his sword high and brings it down again, steady and neat. Slowly, he traces the circle and pentagram with the blade. The other five persons

approach the pentagram, from five sides, to serve as his aides. Each places a black candle on a point of the pentagram. The central figure raises an ebony-handled athame.

"I conjure thee, the demon named Stalriq,

By the powers of the supreme darkness and by the powers of Lucifer himself.

Riseth from the shadows of darkness

Materialize before me in human form,

Free of the hellish deformity and horror.

I invoke thee, the demon named Stalriq,

I invoke thee by the power of all the Demons and Angels who are one.

I invoke thee by the names of Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belial."

A cloud of smoke descends from the ceiling. It winds its way down to the altar. In thick rings, it assembles before the group. Out of the wall of smoke, an arm reaches out, grabbing the closest hooded figure. The man willingly goes without a shout. A few seconds later, the body is flung across the room. Each hooded figure eagerly awaits his doom. One by one they fall, crumpled by the wall. Finally, Stalriq exits the rings of smoke. He stands 6’6". He looks human expect for the green hue of his skin and the rows and rows of spines on his body. Stalriq walks up to the last hooded figure. He takes the woman’s youthful face in his hands. He kisses her lips lightly before opening his mouth wide. The woman parts her lips. A soft glow starts in her mouth. Stalriq bends down and pulls the woman into a fierce embrace. He kisses her passionately. As he draws the energy from

her, the woman starts to age. When it is done, Stalriq pitches her aged corpse onto the stage. Stretching, Stalriq’s demonic visage dissolves into handsome human features. Smiling, Stalriq looks forward to a brand new day full of adventure.

The lights flash bright. The siren screams. The ambulance rockets to its destination. The paramedics perform CPR again and again. Always the high pitched ping of a flat line fills the ambulance. The victim’s escort shivers, a shaking head hanging into trembling hands. Turning into a long driveway, the ambulance comes to a quick, steady stop. The doors open. The gurney is wheeled out. Stat. Stat. A code blue out here. The paramedics rush the non-responsive body through the doors. The escort drops, unceremoniously, to the floor.

Spike’s old DeSoto pulls up to the curb. Angel jumps out of the car. Quickly, he covers the distance between himself and the frantic escort. Stopping short, he kneels down. He reaches out and grabs Cordelia’s shoulders, pulling her sobbing form against his chest. She grabs his lapels, holding on like her life depends on it. Angel pulls her onto his lap, pressing her against him. Cordelia shakes and trembles as Angel rests his head on top of hers.

Spike, Buffy, Giles and Willow walk up to the pair still sitting on the ground. Spike taps Angel’s shoulder. Angel looks up. Spike glances at Cordelia. Angel shakes his head. Buffy walks over to the emergency room doors and looks in. Giles stands rigidly, not knowing what to do. Willow teeters on the edge of tears. Cordelia looks up, seeing the gang. Cordelia ’s gaze centers on Willow.

"YOU! You did this."

Willow looks up. The tears start to fall down her cheeks.

"I’m sorry."

Cordelia pushes Angel away.

"You’re sorry. You’re sorry! What was with that …that display? What?! Was it just some ‘Ooo look at me, I’m Willow. I’m a witch. See my power.’"

Willow wraps her arms around herself.

"I thought I could create a distraction. I just wanted to help."

Cordelia stands up and advances on Willow.

"Well you really helped. You helped Doyle into a body bag!"

Willow backs away, slightly shaking her head.

"He’s dead?"

Cordelia anger dissolves from her face. Her lower lip starts to tremble. She looks at the emergency room doors.

"It was touch and go. He flat-lined so many times."

Cordelia closes her eyes tight and puts her hands over her ears. Angel walks over and puts his arms around her.

Buffy enters the waiting room. She walks up to the nurse’s station.

"Excuse me (getting the nurse’s attention). What is the status of the man just brought in?"

"Who?"

"The man who was brought in with the gunshot wounds."

"Are you family?"

"Yes. I’m his sister."

The nurse raises an eyebrow and looks Buffy up and down.

"Of course, you are."

The nurse looks through her charts. She pulls one out, lifting the pages.

"He’s in critical condition. The doctor’s have him in surgery now. It may be a few hours. Of course, we called the police about the gunshot wound but, you’re welcome to wait."

Buffy throws at piercing look at the nurse.

"I’ll be waiting. You just keep me updated."

Buffy walks away. She walks out of the emergency room lobby. Buffy approaches the small group. She takes Cordelia’s face between her hands and looks Cordelia straight in the eyes.

"He’s not dead."

Cordelia looks at Buffy in amazement.

"Thank you."

Buffy puts her arm around Cordelia and together they enter the hospital through the emergency room doors.

The emergency waiting room is small. A motley crew and their possessions cover all available surfaces. Willow sits on a sofa between an irate watcher and a flirtatious vampire. Buffy stretches out on another sofa. Spike lies on the couch with Buffy with his arms wrapped around her, pressing against her back. In the middle, Cordelia sits in a large chair, seemingly, in a trance. Occasionally, during the past four hours, Cordelia would rise from her trance and say something like:

"God, can’t that nurse do something a little more original with her hair than the Florence Nightingale bun?"

"Who decorates for this place? I bet it’s the same people who decorate sleazy hotels. I mean, look at that print."

"Could this furniture be any more uncomfortable? You’d think they would have more comfort in a hospital of all places."

At first, the group tried to answer these rhetorical questions. Finally, they gave up and just let her babble to herself. She’d say something about every fifteen-twenty minutes. The rest of the time, Cordelia just sits huddled in that large chair, her knees pulled up to her chest, staring at the clock. Buffy steals a glance at Cordelia now and then. She always pulls Spike’s arms around her a little tighter when she does.

Willow’s at her wits end. She’s been so busy deflecting compliments from Angel and angry looks from Giles, that she hasn’t had a chance to feel remorse or guilt. She sits like a tennis spectator. Her head going back and forth so fast, Willow worries she’s going to get whiplash. Finally, gripping the sofa cushion, Willow stands up.

"Does anybody else want coffee?"

Three hands shoot up. Both Angel and Giles sit forward and say:

"Do you need some help?"

Willow turns around and looks wearily at the two males. She shakes her head.

"No Angel, its okay. I don’t want you to leave in case some news comes in about Doyle. I’ll get you some coffee, though. Giles? I could use a little help."

Assuming a smug countenance, Giles stands beside Willow. They take orders and leave the waiting room. They reach the cafeteria and walk right by. They come to a secluded corner. After checking to make sure they’re alone, Giles pulls Willow into a tight embrace. Willow presses her face against his chest and smells him in.

"Oh Rupert, I messed things up and bad."

Giles rests his head on Willow’s, kissing the top of her head.

"Don’t be silly. You tried to help. They had a lot more people than we did and guns for that matter. It’s so much easier when it’s just a demon bent on destroying the world – At least those you can understand."

Willow looks up at Giles.

"If I hadn’t done that spell, then- "

"Then nothing. You don’t know what would have happened. Things could have been better. It could have been worse, as well. You can’t blame yourself."

"Cordelia blames me."

"Yes, well, Cordelia is consumed in grief. It’s quite obvious she feels more for that young man than she’s admitting."

Willow nods and walks away, her arms wrapped around herself. Giles places his hands on her shoulders. Willow leans back against him. Suddenly, a sly grin crosses her features.

"And what about you, Rupert?"

"What about me?"

Turning in his arms, Willow smiles at Giles.

"I think I saw you turn several shades of green, out there. Jealous much."

Giles looks uncomfortable.

"I do not get jealous."

Willow raises an eyebrow and narrows her eyes.

"Alright, I got a little jealous."

Willow winds her arms around Giles.

"Why?"

Giles looks down at her as he pulls her closer.

"I suppose that it was Angel. Even though he’s two hundred years my senior, he looks a lot more natural at your side than I do. I suppose that I just got worried when I saw you both dancing."

Willow frowns as she runs her hand down Giles’ face.

"Rupert, our age difference is not the problem here. You wanted us to keep our relationship secret. I’m pretty sure that Angel wouldn’t have tried anything if he knew that I’m with you."

Giles fumbles about. Not looking Willow in the eyes, Giles responds:

"We did it for Buffy, remember. We didn’t know how Buffy would react. She’s never taken my having a relationship well."

Willow looks down.

"No, Rupert. You did it because of Buffy. I did it for you. When this all started, Buffy was so exhausted from battling Kaos that I agreed to be silent. A year has passed since then Rupert, the time has come to be up front with everyone. I love you and I’m tired of hiding it. Buffy told me about Spike. It was hard to accept, at first, but I did…accept it, that is. A-and I’m glad I did because I can see now that he really loves her. Rupert, I just know Buffy would be happy for us."

"I know… I-I suppose you’re right."

Willow wraps her arms around Giles tightly.

"Oh Rupert, I’m so hap-"

Giles tightly holds Willow’s arms and pushes her away.

"Not yet, Willow. Not with everything that’s happening. Once we get back to Sunnydale, then we’ll tell Buffy. That is if you still want me by then."

Giles attempts a little smile but, can’t help noticing the way Willow’s face has fallen. Willow looks down. She squares her shoulders and looks back up again.

"Okay, Rupert, we’ll be quiet just a little longer. But Rupert, no more delays after this."

Giles looks softly down at Willow. He nods slowly. With a guilty heart, he pulls her into a tight embrace. A quick kiss passes between them, before they go to finish their errand.

Giles and Willow return with six steaming cups of coffee. As they walk into the waiting room, they see the group huddled around a woman in a long white coat, apparently the doctor. They approach slowly and catch the tail end of the woman’s statement:

"- barely missed his lungs. One shattered a rib. The other lodged in his spine. We were able to get them out but, we’re not sure what impact, if any, this will have on his spinal cord. The next few days will be critical. We will need to keep him here and I suspect that a period of rehab therapy will be necessary."

The group stands in stunned silence. The doctor looks at the group. She takes a deep breath.

"The fact is that there is nothing you can do for him here. Go home. Get some rest. Leave a number at the nurse’s station and they will call you when he’s conscious."

Cordelia looks up.

"Can we see him?"

"Only relatives are allowed in the ICU."

Buffy steps forward.

"I’m his sister. I give her my permission."

"You’ll need to accompany her."

Buffy grabs Cordelia’s hand.

"Let’s go then."

The Doctor motioned for them to follow her. Together, Buffy and Cordelia leave the waiting room behind.

Buffy and Cordelia enter the hospital room. Doyle is lying in a bed, tubes and wires running everywhere. Cordelia lets go of Buffy’s hand and approaches the bed. Buffy pulls the curtain around the bed and sits in a chair by the door. The room is silent for a couple brief minutes. It started as a sniffle. A slight intake of air, barely perceptible. The sound of a wall slowly crumbling. Cordelia’s shoulders start to shake.

She bends over the bed and kisses Doyle’s forehead. Cordelia’s shoulders shake harder. She takes his hand in hers. It starts as a single drop of water, barely passing the brim. A single release of all the torment concealed. Cordelia lowers her head. She rests her cheek against Doyle’s hand. By the door, Buffy could hear the dam break. She listens to the flood sweep through the room, drifting through the air.

"Doyle, please. You can’t leave me yet."

Angel runs his hand through his hair. He reaches out, grabs a cup of coffee and sits back down. He tries to raise his arm to stretch. Flinching, he slowly brings it down again. Spike looks at Angel from across the room.

"Those bullets are starting to pinch me, too. Do you know somebody who can take care of this or are we ginsu-kniving it tonight?"

Angel sits forward, rubbing his side.

"I know somebody who can take care of it. Doesn’t ask questions. Just takes your cash and looks the other way."

"Alright then."

Giles sips at his coffee, hating the taste. He sits with his elbows on his knees, looking at the floor.

"I keep going over tonight in my mind. I keep seeing a flash of silver, a pendant – a medallion of some kind. I only saw one wearing it but, something about it was familiar to me."

Angel looks over at Giles.

"Do you mean the half-dollar sized charm?"

"Yes, that’s it! Did you see it clearly?"

Angel reaches over and grabs a hospital pamphlet. He pulls a pen from his jacket and starts to draw. The symbol: Two snakes poised to strike one another while their tails are intertwined.

"This is what it looked like. I saw two guys wearing it."

Spike steps forward. He looks at the drawing.

"I saw that, too - On the ones I killed. Is it a demon? What am I saying? It’s always a demon."

Giles takes the picture from Angel. He looks it over, folds it in quarters and puts it away.

"I think we’re in for a long night of research."

Books lie strewn about the office. Buffy and Spike are sitting on the sofa. About ten feet away, Cordelia sits cross-legged on the floor. Willow is in the other room, sitting in front the computer. Giles sits in one of the client chairs, balancing a large book. Angel enters the room carrying a large stack of old tomes. He hands everyone a book. Angel sits down on the coffee table. Spike sits up. He points to the page in front of him.

"That’s it!"

Everyone looks at Spike. Angel crosses the room and grabs the book. He looks at the picture. He slaps the picture and hands the book to Giles.

"That’s it, Giles."

Giles takes the book. He pushes up his glasses. He starts to read. He reads. He continues to read. Buffy sits up and looks at Giles. Angel and Spike walk over to Giles. The two vampires put their hands on the back of the chair and look down at Giles. Spike and Angel look up at each other.

They smile. At once, they each grab one of Giles’ shoulders. Giles looks up to see two vamped out faces with glowing eyes. With a scream, not unlike a woman’s, Giles jumps up off the chair. Angel and Spike start to laugh. Buffy grabs Giles arm and steadies him.

"Well, yes. Spike…Angel. Why are you so uh… as Buffy says ‘grr’?"

Spike laughs harder, falling to the floor. Angel tries to stop laughing but fails miserably. He sits down in the chair Giles just vacated and grips his sides. Willow enters the office. She sees Angel and Spike laughing and vamped out. She looks back and forth.

"Buffy…What’s going on?"

Buffy walks over to Willow. She links her arm with Willow’s.

"Giles was in a reading coma again. Spike and Angel thought it would be fun to give Giles the wigguns. At least Giles is with the living, so to speak, again."

Giles looks over at Buffy. He glances over at the two vampires that have finally composed themselves.

"I was just reading the passage t-to gain some perspective on this problem."

Buffy walks over to Giles. She takes the book. She looks at the page.

"So tell me what is this…this Stalrickee about?"

Giles takes off his glasses and starts to clean them.

"The passage says that Stalriq, pronounced "Stall-Rick," is an…amorous demon."

Buffy looks over at Giles.

"In English."

Spike speaks up.

"The demon likes to shag."

Buffy looks at Giles again.

"Once again. In English."

Angel stands up.

"Buffy. Stalriq likes the company of women. The more, the merrier."

Buffy looks up at the ceiling and her mouth forms an "O".

"So the guy likes to get a happy. Is he ugly? Is he horrid to look at? Is that why he had to drag the girl off?"

Everyone turns around and stares at Cordelia, still sitting on the floor.

"I mean why else would someone go to so much trouble to get a date on Friday night. It’s either an ugly face or a ritualistic sacrifice."

Giles takes the book back from Buffy and hands it to Cordelia. He points to a series of drawings.

"Stalriq is a rare form of demon. He can assume a human form. He likes to romance women. Stalriq is the kind that likes to have a woman by her free will. He’s very …fertile. He likes to impregnate women. He apparently likes fathering children."

Angel walks over and takes the book from Cordelia.

"Why take the girl? If he likes to wine and dine, why start kidnapping?"

Giles rubs his eyes.

"If you read further, you’ll find that Stalriq likes to have children because he uses them to increase his powers. If Stalriq has thirteen children alive at any given time, he brings them together, slits their throats and drinks their blood. Once this is done, he assumes his demon shape and has…intercourse with a young woman. The woman becomes pregnant

with Stalriq."

Wrinkles form on Buffy’s forehead.

"What do you mean ‘becomes pregnant with Stalriq’?"

"Just that. Stalriq gains power from the blood of his children. It allows him to transfer his essence into the woman. He grows inside of her until he bursts from her. Of course, the woman dies from this."

"Okay, so this girl is probably the woman he wants to… to y’know with."

Angel looks up from the book.

"I don’t think so. I think she was one of his children. The book says the woman can be any woman, but the children have to be rounded up. They are worldwide and it often takes years to do. This picture here, Giles. Is this Stalriq in his demon form?"

Giles takes the book back and looks at the picture of a face covered in inch long spines.

"Yes, yes it is."

Angel glances at Cordelia.

"I think we have a problem. I think its safe to say that Stalriq’s children must also look like this but, can assume human shape too… I think Doyle might be one of his kids. (Angel looks at Cordelia’s stricken face) Doyle is half-demon. He told me once that he never knew his father. All he knew was that his father was a demon. I’ve seen him take on the demon form. It looks like this. That might be why Stalriq’s men are in Los Angeles – to get Doyle."

Willow steps forward and looks at the picture.

"But what about the girl?"

Angel runs his hand through his hair.

"I don’t know. Maybe she escaped and they had to come looking for her. Wait…That just might be it. She escaped. If she is one of Stalriq’s children, then she probably didn’t know about all this until she was taken from …where ever. I think we better get back to the hospital. If Stalriq knows about Doyle, a hospital staff isn’t going to protect him."

Giles walks over to a comfortable chair. He sits down and proceeds to read.

"This is very interesting. It says here that Stalriq’s power is centered in his eyes…That’s very unusual. A demon’s power is usually centered in his heart. (Giles looks at Spike, Angel and Buffy). I think if you come up against this Stalriq, then you must try to eliminate his eyes."

Buffy walks over to Spike and grabs his hand.

"I agree Giles. Angel, Spike and I will go check out Doyle. The rest of you stay here and look for more ways to attack Stalriq. We’ll keep in touch."

Buffy, Spike and Angel walk out into the night. Willow jumps on the computer. Giles starts to read the passage again, looking for details as to the ritual. On the floor, Cordelia sits cross-legged. Her back is poker straight. Her mouth is a grim line. Her eyes are empty pools.

Buffy enters the hospital, two vampires walking swiftly behind her. She heads straight for Doyle’s room. With determination, she turns a corner and advances right past the nurse’s station. A nurse chases after the trio. Buffy reaches Doyle’s room. She turns the knob, slowly opening the door. The nurse gets between Buffy and the door.

"It is after hours."

Buffy gives the nurse a withering look. The nurse holds her ground. Buffy stands closer to the nurse, a breath away.

"Get out of my way or I’ll go through you."

The nurse stands still, glaring at Buffy.

"Go ahead and try."

Buffy grabs the nurse’s arms and flings her aside. As the nurse slides across the floor, a silver pendant on a silver chain falls out of her blouse. Angel recognizes the charm – two snakes. He pushes Buffy aside, raises a foot and kicks in the door. He rushes into the room. An empty bed is all he finds. He rushes back out. Kneeling with a leg on each side of the nurse, Angel grabs the nurse’s arms.

"Where is he?"

The nurse starts to fumble with something in her pocket. Angel reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small vial. He puts it in his pocket. Angel grips the nurse’s face hard.

"No way out for you. Now, this can be quick or it can be long. Where is he?"

The nurse closes her eyes. Angel backhands her hard. He grabs her

shoulders and shakes her. Angel grabs her chin and forces the nurse to look

him in the eyes. The nurse opens her eyes to see a pair of glowing eyes and

a demon’s face. Angel muffles her screams by cupping his other hand over

her mouth. Slamming her head against the tile to get her mind back on the

subject at hand, Angel takes his hand off the nurse’s mouth. Angel leans

in, almost touching her nose with his.

"Tell Me! NOW!"

Fear fills the nurse’s eyes. She looks around wildly, but Buffy and Spike’s

stern faces are all she sees.

"Please, I can’t tell you. He’ll kill me!"

Angel grips her face tighter, until she flinches.

"What do you think I’m going to do? At least with him, It’ll be quick.

Now, I’m not asking again-"

The nurse opens her mouth to speak but, changes her mind and closes it

tightly. Angel growls. He grabs her sore arms and pulls her up into a

sitting position. He starts to shake her violently. The woman’s head snaps

back and forth sharply. Still shaking her, Angel raises a hand to strike

the woman again. The woman screams:

"STOP!! Alright, the master came for him."

Angel stops shaking her.

"Stalriq?"

The nurse’s eyes open wide. A moment of silence passes before Angel growls. Quickly, the nurse responds:

"Yes."

"Where is he now?"

The nurse looks away. Angel slaps her again.

"WHERE!?!"

A single tear runs down her cheek. In a shaky whisper, the woman speaks.

"The Church of the Good Followers. On Hill and Brand."

Angel pulls the nurse up to her feet roughly and drags her into Doyle’s hospital room. The nurse stares at Angel. She turns her head, her eyes pleading with Buffy and Spike to help her.

"Please! I told you what you wanted to know. Please, don’t let him kill me!"

Angel forces her into the room. Buffy chases after Angel. In shock, Buffy watches as Angel throws the nurse on the bed and starts fumbling along the side. The nurse attempts to run only to feel Angel’s strong arm force her back down. Buffy stops at the foot of the bed and grabs the footboard.

Buffy grips the faux-wood hard. White knuckles wait to see what Angel will do next. Angel looks up just as he pulls a long restraint from under the hospital bed. Angel hands the restraint to Buffy. She holds it while Angel makes his way to the other side of the bed. He pulls out the other restraint. Pressing the nurse to the bed, he ties off the restraint, pinning down her arms. Relieved, Buffy pauses, at the doorway, to look back

at Angel. She motions for Angel to follow. Together, they head out the door.

In the dark, damp basement of a building in the heart of Downtown, Los Angeles, a stretcher is being rolled into a cell made of concrete blocks and iron bars. A male figure stands in the doorway. His clothes are flamboyant, all geisha sleeves and bright colors. His hair is a golden crown. His face is deceptively beautiful. His eyes are fiery, filled with anger and age. He enters the chamber. He passes row after row of iron bar cages. Each one filled with a sad face. He stops in front of the stretcher. He shakes his head.

"He’ll never live long enough to perform the ritual like this."

In the stretcher, lies a man. His pale features and shallow breathing make the speaker’s words sound prophetic. The speaker reaches down and rips open the man’s hospital gown. The speaker’s hand starts to glow. A bright light emanates from it. He presses the glowing hand against the pale man’s chest. The glow covers the man’s body. The pale man takes in a sharp intake of breath just as the glow begins to fade. The speaker places a hand under the man’s head and slowly raises him up. The man sits on the stretcher, trying

to get his bearings. The speaker brushes his hand against the man’s face.

"Rise and Shine, Doyle."

Doyle searches the face in front of him. It gives him nothing. He looks around him, counting three other men in the room. As a plan starts to form in Doyle’s head, the speaker snaps his fingers.

"None of that, Doyle. No plans to get away. You are far too important to me."

The speaker starts to laugh. Doyle glares at him.

"Whoo are yoo and where am I?"

"Where you are is unimportant."

The speaker holds out his hand. Doyle just stares at the hand. Irate, the speaker grabs Doyle’s arm and pulls him off the stretcher.

"Who I am is a different matter."

The speaker places both of his hands on either side of Doyle’s face.

"Don’t you feel the connection, Doyle? Some part of you that hums when I touch you?…Hmm…No? I am your father, Doyle."

Doyle looks at the man’s eyes.

"That’s not possible."

A smirk creeps across the handsome face.

"Oh but it is. I am your father, Doyle. Make no mistake of that. My real name is Stalriq but, I believe your mother knew me as Kiel."

Awareness dawns on Doyle’s face. Stalriq throws back his head and laughs out loud.

"Ahh, it’s always nice to know that the women remember me."

A slight titter fills the room. Stalriq glances over at the three men. He reaches out and grabs the closest one by the neck and presses him against the bars.

"You nothing. You almost killed one of my children. You almost ruined everything! There better not be anymore mistakes or escapes or you’ll be my next meal."

The man nods his head quickly. Stalriq releases his grip. With a flourish, Stalriq turns and exits the cell. He walks past all the sad faces, not even giving them a glance, slamming the door behind him.

The streetlights glow. The stray cat cries. Hill Street is dark. The left side of the block is filled with derelict buildings and pay-by-the-week parking structures. The other side is lined with the crumbling buildings of justice and the law. Masonry, once brilliant and majestic, slouches chipped and vandalized. Spike cruises past the small, corner storefront. Paint on the windows, simply drawn, spells out, "The Church of the Good Followers."

Spike drives four blocks down. He pulls up to the curb and turns off the engine. He turns in his seat. Spike looks at Buffy, in the seat beside him, and Angel, in the back seat.

"Cor, can you believe that place? Bugger-all – A church. Of all the bloody places for a demon to hide."

Buffy looks down the dark streets.

"I don’t know. I mean. Isn’t it the last place you’d ever look?"

Angel sits forward.

"Actually, these people probably see their demon-worship as a religion."

Buffy reaches for the door handle.

"Well let’s go. The sooner we start, the sooner its over."

The trio exits the vehicle. Together, they walk down the street. Each step, each arm swing occurs at exactly the same moment. A block from the church, the trio turns down a narrow alley. They stop in front of a series of red doors. Buffy turns to the two vampires.

"Here’s the plan. There’s got to be a backdoor to this place. I say we pick door number three, get in, get Doyle and get out."

Angel looks at the doors.

"Buffy, this could get ugly. There are as many as thirteen victims in there. I want to save Doyle but I can’t see myself just abandoning those other people. We do this and tomorrow this place will be vacant. We’ll never find these people again."

Buffy responds:

"I don’t want to abandon anyone either but we have to choose. If you think about it, if we save Doyle, then Stalriq can’t perform the ritual."

"That’ll help keep them alive but it won’t free them. Stalriq will keep them until he can get another child."

"Angel, we need a plan-"

"- I know we need a plan, Buffy. I-"

"Angel. I don’t want to argue with you. The clock is ticking. We have an hour until dawn. Now-"

Spike stands between Angel and Buffy.

"Oh Satan! Will you two shut up? I’d be surprised if the whole bleedin’ alley didn’t know that we’re about to storm the castle. Now, we’re going in there. We will kick ass. We will get our daily spot of decent violence. If, at all possible, we’ll save the whole bloody lot. If necessary, we’ll run with the wanker by himself. Okay?"

Angel and Buffy nod. The three split up. They look in windows and turn doorknobs. Spike whistles. He points to the door he’s trying to open. Angel pulls a lock-pick set out of his pocket. He quietly rolls the tumblers. A little click sounds and the door falls ajar. Spike holds the door open as first Angel and then Buffy enters the gray, somber building.

Buffy stops in front of Spike. She looks at him, flashing a sweet smile.

"Will you always hold the door open for me?"

Spike bows his head. He follows her into the building, closing the door behind himself.

"As you wish."

At the end of an aisle. The end destination of a series of thin metal bars. In the final trap for a final victim, stands Francis Doyle. A muffled shuffling. A blatant ruffling. A cough. Doyle strains to see inside the one, two, five, six, ten, eleven, twelve cages.

"Hey. How many o’ yoo are there?"

A rush of "shh" follows. A small feminine hand reaches out of the bar, a mirror gripped firmly in her fingers. Doyle sees a flash of face.

"Hey, yer the girl from the club."

Another rush of "shh." The mirror tilts back and forth before holding still. For a second, the wrist falls limp. The girl pulls her hand back into the cell. A few seconds later, a soft sobbing can be heard, echoing throughout the cells. Doyle looks at the door down the hall. Thick steel. Damn.

"Hey yoo! What’s goin’ on ‘ere? Who are yoo?"

SHH! A rustling is heard. The hand, holding the mirror, reaches out of the cell. From down the hall, a feminine voice answers.

"My name is Kieu. You were trying to help me back there at the club, huh?"

Doyle grips the bars.

"My name is Doyle. Yeah. I guess I failed. Sorry."

A thin laughter rings out.

"I didn’t exactly help any. I thought you were with them. Once I figured it out, it was too late."

An angry male voice with a Spanish lilt calls out.

"Will you two shut up? The last thing we need is for those guys to come back in here."

Doyle strains, trying to see the new voice.

"How long have you been here?"

Kieu answers.

"A little over a year. I almost got away. So close. God. Why is this happening to me?"

The Spanish lilt calls back.

"For the same reason this is happening to all of us. Our Moms were sluts who fucked a demon cause they thought it was cool and rebellious or something like that. It never bothered me much that my mother never bothered to ask the guy’s name. Now, I just wish the whore had asked if the guy was an evil demon who was planning on killing the kid he knocked her up with."

Kieu yells back.

"Raul shut up! That’s not how it was for all of us!"

A masculine laugh.

"Oh please, Kieu. Yeah, Daddy dearest loved you. Came for weekly visitation, did he? Paid for ballet lessons and all that shit. Well, what did it get you – nothing. You’re stuck in a cage, just like the rest of us. You’re a loca cabrona to care about that ass."

"Shut up, Raul. Just stop."

A small voice echoes from one of the cells next to the door.

"Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop."

"Now look what you did, Raul. You upset Kiernan."

"Me? What about you?"

Doyle interrupts.

"How many of yoo are there?"

One by one, twelve hands stretch out past the bars. Small hands and large hands. Light colored hands and dark colored hands. At least, five of the hands are from children younger than ten years old. The realization of how large this situation is hits Doyle, all at once. He slides down the front of the bars until his knees touch the concrete floor. His throbbing head comes to rest against the coolness of steel.

"Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop…"

A slayer and two vampires walk down a short hallway that leads to a staircase. Stairs go up. Stairs go down. The trio looks at each other, agreeing with their eyes. They start the descent. They end up in a damp basement. A long hallway stretches out ahead of them, a dozen doors on each side. The trio moves huddled together down the hallway. A door opens swiftly. The trio press against the wall, behind the door. The man is dressed in black fatigues. He says something to a man behind him. He laughs and closes the door. He stops smiling when Spike spins him around and punches him square in the face. Spike places the man down on the ground and looks at Angel.

"Angel, you and this git appear to be the same size."

Angel starts stripping out of his clothes. He unbuttons his jeans and is about to unzip them when he looks up. A wide set of eyes and a red face stare back at him. Angel laughs softly as Buffy quickly turns around. A tap on the shoulder tells Buffy the coast is clear. Spike’s finger, pressed against her lips, tells Buffy to remain silent. Angel turns the knob of the door the commando just exited.

"Hey Jesse. What? You forget something?"

Angel enters the office.

"Yeah, I forgot something all right."

Muffled screams are all you here before the unmistakable sound of knuckles hitting flesh echoes through the hall. Buffy and Spike enter the office. The guy on the floor is smaller than Angel, about Spike’s size. Spike strips and puts on the black fatigues. Holding his duster open, Spike helps Buffy put it on. Buffy picks up a large ring of keys and the group is off.

Farther down the hallway, a persistent humming can be heard. Like a bee in a bottle. Like a rosary solemnly repeated. The trio follows the mantra to a thick metal door. Buffy presses her ear against the door. She strains to hear but can’t make out the words. Shaking her head, she turns to Spike and motions for him to listen. Spike looks down the hall before pressing his ear against the door. Angel shifts nervously from foot to foot while Spike concentrates on the sound. Angel switches from looking down the hallway to

looking at Spike bent against the door. Slowly, Spike stands straight up. Spike stares straight ahead. Buffy touches his arm. Spike continues to look straight ahead. Buffy looks at Angel, confusion in her eyes. Angel grips Spike’s shoulder. Spike still looks straight ahead. Angel looks at Buffy and shrugs. Buffy captures Spike’s chin in between her thumb and finger. Gently, she pulls Spike’s face down until he’s looking into her

eyes. Spike stares, not focusing, for a second, and then just seems to focus in on Buffy’s face. Spike leans in and whispers into Buffy’s ear.

"I know this sound. I’ve heard it before."

Buffy places her hands on his cheeks.

"What is it? What’s the noise?"

Spike looks at the door. His head snaps back at Buffy.

"I…Druscilla. It’s a child. A child…repeating the word stop."

Buffy’s eyes open wide, fill with tears and close tight. Spike turns away from her. Angel presses his ear against the door. He pulls back, turning to Spike.

"Spike, how are you hearing this? All I hear is a mumbling sound."

Spike reaches out and softly touches the door.

"I don’t need to hear the words. I know how it sounds through a closed door. Druscilla used to take a child into her rooms. I could hear the child go on and on for days. I think we may have found where they are keeping Doyle."

Spike sneaks a glance at Buffy. She’s looking at him with shimmering eyes. Buffy wraps her hand around his and lowers it from the door. She takes the keys out of her pocket. She tries a number of keys before the right one slides into the lock. Looking over her shoulder, Buffy looks Angel in the eyes. Her hand squeezes Spike’s.

"Ready?"

A strong squeeze and a nod of the head answer her. Buffy stands aside and Angel opens the door. The two vampires enter the room. At the end of the long hall, Doyle looks up.

"Angel!"

Angel motions for Doyle to keep it down. Spike yanks the keys from the door. Spike rushes over to the cell from which a small voice is still emanating. Spike opens the cell door. A small, brown-haired child shuffles into the corner. Buffy comes up behind Spike. Before she can touch him, Spike tosses the keys at her.

"Open up the other cells."

Buffy stands stunned for half a beat before turning to her task. Spike slowly advances on the child, his hands spread wide. The child grows quiet and presses closer to the wall. Spike stops one foot in front of him. Spike looks in the child’s green eyes.

"I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to pick you up and carry you out of this place. Understand?"

The child sits up a little. He looks Spike up and down and nods hesitantly. Spike picks up the child and carries him out of the cell.

Down the hall, Kieu and Doyle are already out of their cells. Buffy has distributed the keys, trying to open the cell doors as quickly as possible. Angel stands in front of Raul’s cell. Raul watches intensely as Angel slips a key into the lock. A loud bang sounds from the doorway. Looking up, the group sees a man in black fatigues. The soldier flips a switch at the door and a blaring alarm rings out. In a matter of seconds, five more commandos are entering the room. Buffy runs toward the first one. She kicks him in

the stomach. He grabs her leg and flips her. Angel rushes from Raul’s cell door and starts punching soldiers. Raul scrambles with the key in the lock. He unlocks the door and slams it open. Spike places the little boy in his arms down in a corner. Spike spins around and punches the first commando within reach. A commando wraps an arm around Angel’s neck and pulls him back. A second commando starts to punch Angel in the stomach. Raul closes in on the commando restraining Angel. With tightly clenched fists, Raul starts to punch the commando from behind. The soldier goes down. Angel springs forward and tackles a soldier. Buffy kicks another soldier and sends him flying into a cell. She grabs the door and slams it shut. Spike grabs a commando by the right arm and shoulder and hammers his body repeatedly into the nearest wall. Buffy pushes another soldier into Raul’s old cell and slams the door. Angel runs after the last of the commandos. Entering the hallway, he sees the two guys motioning to a half dozen similarly black clad individuals. Angel yells for Buffy and Spike.

"We’ve got to get out of here. They’ve got friends. Lets go!"

Spike drops the bloody pulp that once was a man. The sound of the body hitting the concrete floor is loud and wet. Spike turns around and sees the boy standing there, staring at him. Spike hesitates before placing his hands on the boy’s waist. The boy points at the bloody mess on the floor.

"Bad man."

Spike nods and picks the boy up. As they exit the room, Spike holds the boy close and says in his ear:

"Yes, a very bad man."

Buffy starts pushing Kieu out the door. She takes one last look back only to find Raul still pounding on the fallen soldier. She grabs his arm. He tries to shake her off but, Buffy forces Raul to get to his feet and out the door. Buffy is so distracted with the struggling Raul that she never sees the commando, sneaking up from behind. The soldier smashes Buffy over the head with a baton. Buffy’s screams cause Spike and Angel to turn around. Angel looks over his shoulder at Spike.

"I’ll get her! Go start the car!"

Reluctantly, Spike turns and continues to run out of the building. Angel runs down the hall. He smacks the soldier against the wall. Angel picks up Buffy and runs.

Outside, Spike gets in the DeSoto, placing the child beside him. He reaches over and unlocks the passenger doors. Kieu opens the front passenger door. She shuffles in, picks up the boy and places him on her lap. Angel comes running out, cradling Buffy in his arms. He rushes to the already open door and puts Buffy on the seat. Kieu puts her arm around

Buffy’s shoulders and pulls her close. Angel slams the passenger door shut. He jerks open his door at the same moment Raul opens his. Doyle, Angel and Raul slide into the back seat. Once all are inside, Spike floors the accelerator, leaving tracks as he flees the scene.

There’s a moment in the morning, a moment that separates the night from the day. If you watch for it, you can see it any day. In an instant, the sky goes from early morning dim to dawning light. At any other time, the light shifts evenly, but not in the early morning. Dramatically, the comforting cover of darkness is quickly yanked away. This particular morning, the tired travelers in the black DeSoto got to witness the phenomena just as Spike pulled into an underground garage. Spike pulled into a space and stopped the car. He laid his head against the headrest. Turning his head, Spike looks at the boy, the girl, Buffy. Kieu pulls her arm away from behind Buffy’s neck. Halfway, Kieu shrieks at the blood covering her sleeve.

The sun is starting its ascent, the light vanquishing the darkness. A new day is dawning. A new beginning, full of opportunity. The cycle of life and birth. A constant state of renewal. The birds begin to sing. The air fills with pollen from the opening flowers. In the ground, a seed is sprouting. In the Earth, a rabbit is waking. In a chrome-plated DeSoto, a slayer is slowly bleeding to death. This too, brings new possibility. One slayer dies, the next is called… or, so they say.

Yellow flowers. Green grass. Pink bunnies float in Buffy’s vision. Slowly, she focuses in on what appears to be printed wallpaper. Buffy stands up and realizes she’s in a hallway. At the end of the hazy-white hallway is an open door. Buffy walks through the doorway and enters a bright white room. A distant tune. A far away humming. A haunting melody causes Buffy to turn towards the only window in the room. A solitary figure, wearing a long white gown, stands by the window. Tears fill Buffy’s eyes as Joyce turns towards her, a peaceful smile on her face. Cradled in Joyce’s arms is a baby, wearing a long white christening gown.

"Mom?"

Joyce nods and starts to slowly rock the baby. Buffy looks over at the baby in wonder.

"Whose child is this?"

Joyce approaches Buffy.

"She’s not mine. I’ve just been watching over her."

Joyce places the baby in Buffy’s arms. A single tear slips from Buffy’s left eye as she holds the baby close. Joyce reaches out and brushes the tear away. Lingering, Joyce rubs her finger down Buffy’s face. Buffy looks up at her mother. One moment, Joyce is smiling. The next, she becomes tense and rigid. Joyce’s eyes go blank. Her mouth opens but, Spike’s voice comes out.

"Buffy! You’ve got to wake up!"

****

With a mad dash and a strangled growl, Spike jumps out of the black DeSoto, runs around the car, opens the front passenger door and kneels down next to Buffy’s unconscious form. Pulling her to him, Spike desperately wraps his arms around Buffy. The smell of her blood, gushing from her wound, makes Spike’s eyes glow. The implications of her blood, quickly spreading out on the seat, causes salty tears to run down Spike’s face. With shaking

shoulders, Spike nuzzles Buffy’s neck, a lonely purr emanating from his chest.

"She’s still alive."

Spike looks over Buffy’s shoulder at Kieu. Kieu holds Buffy’s wrist. Behind closed eyes, she silently counts. Kieu opens her eyes and says:

"Her pulse is weak but, it’s there."

Angel sits forward, earning a predatory growl from Spike.

"Spike, we need to get Buffy to a hospital or she’s going to die."

Spike looks around the small group, his eyes finally landing on Angel. Slowly, Spike pulls back and stares at Buffy’s face."

"How? I can’t drive out of here."

Doyle sits forward.

"I’ll drive. I know where the closest hospital is."

Angel exits the vehicle and crouches behind Spike. He places a firm hand on the blond vampire’s shoulder.

"Spike, you’ve got to let go."

Viciously, Spike growls.

"What? Just sit here, twiddling my thumbs, while she’s taken to someplace, somewhere. No, I can’t do it! I can’t just leave her."

Doyle snaps his fingers, getting Spike’s attention.

"Spike, how big is yer trunk?"

Spike looks at Doyle quizzically.

"What kind of a bloody question is that?"

Doyle sighs impatiently.

"How big?"

"I don’t know. This is a classic, ergo it has a decently large trunk."

Doyle motions for Kieu to give him her hands. Tentatively, Kieu places her hands in his. Swiftly, Doyle grabs Kieu's blood covered sleeve and rips it off. Folding the sleeve with one hand, Doyle lifts Buffy’s head with the other. Doyle places the cloth at the gash. Doyle turns to Kieu.

"Sorry about yer sleeve but, ‘twas ruined anyway. Now, hold this here, a’the base of ‘er skull. Press hard. That’s right. Just like that."

Doyle thrusts his hand at Spike.

"Gimme yer keys."

Spike growls. Angel tightens his grip on Spike’s shoulder. Spike glances over his shoulder at Angel. With a sneer, Spike wrestles his car keys out of his pocket and tosses them at Doyle. Doyle gets out of the car and heads for the trunk. Popping the trunk, Doyle motions for Angel and Spike to join him. Reluctantly, Spike leaves Buffy’s side. Doyle sizes up Spike and Angel.

"I think this might work…Okay…get in."

Angel and Spike look at each other. They look at Doyle. They look at the trunk. A few beats pass before Spike slaps Angel on the back.

"Well Peaches, looks like we’re going to be spooning again. So, which do you prefer to be: Inner or outer spoon."

Angel looks uncomfortable for a moment. He glances around then sighs loudly. He mutters a single word as he climbs into the trunk:

"Outer."

Doyle looks in the rearview mirror. He sees Raul’s indignant face, his carved lips curled into a scowl.

"Hey yoo, in the back seat – Raul, right? Look, when we get t’ the hospital, I’m gonna need yoo t’ get out and tell the doctors we ‘ave an emergency out ‘ere."

Raul runs his left hand through his short, wavy, black hair. His dark eyes narrow. Raul leans back against the seat cushions, making himself comfortable.

"I don’t think so. This guy doesn’t play errand boy for anybody, got it?"

Kieu whips her head around. She glares at Raul.

"This isn’t a joke, Raul. She might die."

Raul crosses his arms behind his head and flashes a cocky grin.

"What do I care if she dies. Once we get to the hospital, I’m outta here."

Doyle slams on the brakes. Kieu holds Buffy with one arm and Kiernan with the other. Raul flies forward. Doyle quickly turns in his seat and grabs Raul’s neck. Raul’s eyes bulge at the sight of the green-skinned, spine covered demon staring back at him with blood-red eyes. Doyle brings Raul up close, close enough to nick Raul’s skin with the rows of sharp spines growing out of his face.

"Yoo listen t’ me, boy. She risked ‘er life t’ save ours. You’re gonna help ‘er and be happy doin’ it."

Raul gapes in shock. Frozen by fear, he manages a small nod of the head. Doyle releases Raul’s neck but, Raul continues to stare.

"Yoo like what yoo see, Raul? This is what dear ol’ Da really looks like. That’s right. Yoo want t’ know somethin’ else? I wasn’t much older than yoo are now when this came out in me. So take a good look, Raul. God willing, yoo’ll live long enough to see this in the mirror someday."

A flash of fear crosses Raul’s face. He nods. Doyle resumes his human visage, turns around and presses on the accelerator. A minute or so later, Doyle glances down at the little boy at his side. Kiernan chews on his fingers and stares at Doyle. Doyle fidgets self-consciously as the boy continues to stare at Doyle with his empty yet, thoughtful eyes. In the hope of distracting the youngster, Doyle glances at Kieu and attempts to

strike up a conversation.

"Kieu? How long did yoo say yoo were in that cell?"

Kieu looks out the windshield at the world rushing by.

"We had only been transferred to those cells a couple of months ago."

"That’s nah what I meant…How were yoo caught?"

"Well, you see, Daddy…Daddy. I guess you probably wonder why I even call him that anymore. He is my Father. As a little girl, I saw him every couple of years. He’d blow into Seoul with presents and promises of a good time and he always came through. A little over a year ago, I was in New York attending school. I received a call from him. He said he was in New York on business. He wanted to see me and we made a date to meet the next day…

Kieu wipes away a few loose tears with her left hand. She pulls Kiernan closer to her as she continues.

"…I arrived at the office he said he was leasing. I walked in never suspecting a thing. A couple of those commandos were there, waiting for me. They bound and gagged me and dragged me to a cell. Kiernan was already there. So were Dolores, Francine, Mbawe and Wei-Tung. All the small children were there. We stayed in New York for months. Before we came out

to California, five more were brought in. You and Raul were brought in last, after we got here."

Doyle nods. He clutches the steering wheel as he turns into the emergency room driveway. One glance is all it takes to prompt Raul to run for a doctor. The medics come out with a gurney. They lift Buffy onto it and roll her away. Doyle quickly drives away from the entrance and enters the underground parking garage. Before turning off the engine, Doyle pops the trunk. Kieu exits the vehicle and takes Kiernan’s hand. Doyle and Raul open their car doors and exit the black DeSoto. Spike slowly pulls himself from the trunk, stretching out the tense muscles of his neck and back. Angel practically springs from the trunk in one pounce. Together, the group heads for the ER waiting room.

Giles, Willow and Cordelia rush into the hospital. Somber faces greet them. A young man they don’t recognize is standing near the hallway, apart from the group. The young woman from the club sits on a small couch, holding a small boy on her lap. Next to her, Spike sits with his head in his hands, his duster draped across his lap. Against the far wall, Doyle and Angel sit on small chairs, reading magazines. A wave of relief crosses Cordelia’s face. Doyle looks up from his magazine. He faces Cordelia’s stare with shy, meek eyes. Cordelia stands still for a moment before turning to her right, approaching Spike. Cordelia kneels before Spike and touches his arm. Spike looks up, surprised to see Cordelia in front of him. Everyone else is shocked too. Willow and Giles walk up behind Cordelia, staring at her like she's grown a second head. Cordelia glances at the shock covered faces, surrounding her. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Cordelia snaps back at the group:

"What? I’m not allowed to grow as a person?"

Cordelia looks around at the puzzled faces. She stands up, placing her hands on her hips. Cordelia stomps away, calling to the group one last time.

"Whatever."

Doyle’s eyes follow the retreating figure. He shakes his head and rushes after her. Doyle watches Cordelia retreat down the long corridor. Her pace is swift and her foot falls deliberate. Cordelia’s elegant hands clench and unclench into small fists. Doyle trots quickly until he is walking by Cordelia’s side. For fifteen feet, Cordelia ignores Doyle’s attempts to get her attention. She flips her hair and waves her hand, like she’s trying to shoo away a pesky gnat. Finally, Cordelia stops in her tracks. She turns to face Doyle’s expectant gaze. One moment Doyle is hoping for the best, the next, Doyle is pressed flat against the wall. After the initial shock, Doyle peals himself off the wall. Suddenly, his mind is spinning. Slightly, his legs are unsteady. Mainly, his chin throbs from the painful right hook Cordelia gave him. Cordelia limps away, cursing not too silently, cradling and kissing her quickly swelling knuckles.

Down the hall, Cordelia sees the exit doors. She walks with determination. She adjusts her dress. She presses out the wrinkles. She smoothes back her hair. As she enters the small lobby, as she passes the information desk, she stuffs her right hand inside her pocket, hiding the last of her problems from the public eye. So consumed is Cordelia in carrying off her deception, she never sees the flamboyantly dressed man who enters through the doors.

So consumed is Cordelia in her pain, she never gives a moment’s thought to the man as he passes her. So consumed is Cordelia in her anger, she never notices the man sniff the air. Without warning, Stalriq, dressed in a cobalt blue velvet shirt of a medieval cut and tight black pants, tucked into calf-high boots, wraps his arms around Cordelia. Despite Cordelia’s struggling, he slowly sniffs her hair. Stalriq tightly holds Cordelia’s right arm with his right hand. He clenches her small left hand. Looking like a grotesque minuet, Stalriq leads Cordelia down the hallway.

"You smell of my son."

Cordelia’s eyes grow very wide when she realizes in whose embrace she has found herself. Stalriq smiles at the obvious fear in her eyes. Stalriq pauses for a second, sniffing her hair again.

"My son…Doyle, his scent is fresh upon you. He must be nearby. Tell me, pretty. Where is he?"

Cordelia sneers at Stalriq. She continues to struggle against him.

"You must be short a couple pints if you think I’m going to tell you anything."

Stalriq smirks confidently.

"O…I don’t know. I just got you to tell me that you obviously know my son well enough to attempt to protect him. That says quite a lot. Now. Stop struggling. I’m much stronger than you are and, more importantly, I have no intention of letting you go. Now. Stop struggling. I’d hate to have to break your beautiful neck. Yes, it would be a great pity. Especially, since I’ve got much more pleasurable plans for you."

Cordelia slowly stops struggling. She tosses her head to the left and assumes a haughty pose. Stalriq smiles in appreciation and with just a bit of reverence. Allowing the scent of his children to lead the way, Stalriq guides Cordelia through the corridors.

The Doctor turns to the nurse. He is shocked and the nurse is too. He motions for her to meet him out in the hallway. Outside, away from mad whispers, the Doctor addresses the nurse.

"Well, I can’t make hide nor hair of it…Well, it’s all we’ve got to work on so, go ask the family."

The nurse nods her head in acquiescence before heading down the hall. The nurse wonders how to bring up something like this. She chooses a path and hopes for the best. Turning the corner, the nurse sees all the people huddled, waiting. Sighing, the nurse stands before the group.

"May I ask? Where is Miss Summers’ Mother?"

An uncomfortable silence falls over the room. Spike lifts his head and looks at the nurse, his mouth hanging open. Willow gasps. Angel puts down his magazine. Giles clears his throat. He steps forward, getting the nurse ’s attention.

"Buffy’s Mother has been dead for almost a year and a half."

The nurse pales. She looks away. Clearing her throat, the nurse turns back to Giles.

"Do you know who Spike is?"

Spike jumps up.

"My name is Spike."

The nurse hides a shocked look.

"Oh good. Um…Come with me. She’s been calling for you."

Spike follows the nurse around the corner.

From around the opposite corner, Doyle emerges, rubbing his left cheek. Angel stares at him, startled. Doyle waves him off and sits in the first open chair he sees. Angel sits down at his right.

"What happened to you?"

Doyle rests his head against the back of the chair. Slowly, his head lobs to the right.

"It seems that, nah only can Cordelia tell the difference between Versace and Armani, but she also throws a mean right hook."

A painful grimace crosses Angel’s face.

"Just give her time."

Down a long hallway, while walking to the ER station, the nurse turns to Spike.

"She’s been coming in and out of consciousness for a few minutes now. She alternates between calling for you and for her Mother. Also, curiously, she mumbles something about yellow flowers, green grass, pink bunnies and printed wallpaper. You wouldn’t happen to now what that last part could mean, do you?"

Spike scratches his chin over the last one.

"Nope. Just another mystery which is Buffy, I guess."

The nurse smiles sweetly. She adjusts her nurse’s cap, on top of her gray hair.

"That’s very sweet. How long have you two young people been together?"

Spike answers.

"Not quite a year."

The nurse frowns.

"Funny, I got the feeling you had known her longer than that."

Spike looks at the nurse, quizzically.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, Buffy and I have ‘known’ each other for a few years."

The nurse beams a wide, friendly smile at Spike.

"Oh, lovely. Friends first, lovers second. So few young people do that anymore. Good for you."

Spike wonders what the nurse would think if she only knew the truth, but he smiles sincerely at the nurse anyway as she guides him into the ER station. Buffy’s eyes slowly clear. She hears a friendly voice in the distance. She feels a familiar presence nearby. Looking to her left, Buffy focuses in on Spike. Buffy reaches out. Spike grabs her hand. He stands near the examining table. Buffy tries to get up and the Doctor tries to stop her. Buffy protests.

"I feel fine. See, you’re the Doctor. She’s the nurse. He’s Spike and I’m okay."

The Doctor chuckles.

"That may well be the case but, I just couldn’t live with myself if you left here before I ran a few tests."

The Doctor approaches Buffy. He performs a reflex test on her. Buffy passes with flying colors. He pulls out a needle and Buffy cringes. He takes out a small amount of blood. He tells her the tests will be back in a couple of days and hands her a sheet with a number printed on it. He tells her to call the number in a couple of days to get the results. The Doctor steps back and tips his hand toward the door. Buffy lets go with a high pitched

"whoop" and jumps off the table. She grabs Spike’s hand and pulls him out of the room.

In the hallway, Buffy stops walking when she realizes Spike has stopped. Spike advances a couple of steps before taking Buffy into his arms. Buffy stands very straight, her arms rigid poles beside her. He holds her tightly. He holds her like a child holds a treasured item he believes will protect him from all the scary things in the night.

"Don’t ever do that to me again."

At that moment, Buffy dissolves into his embrace. She presses her face against his chest. Buffy draws her arms up, pressing them against his back. They hold each other silently. They hold each other with all the supernatural strength they can muster. Buffy pulls away first, tears streaming down her face. She wipes her tears away. Spike wipes away a few

of his own. Buffy mock-punches Spike. Spike performs a realistic face of pain. Looking up at each other, they smile and laugh softly under their breath. Feeling better, they turn to rejoin the group.

In the waiting room, Angel is the first to notice the cobalt blue cloaked figure, the first to notice the scared face worn by Stalriq’s prisoner. Stalriq stands regally – A king surveying his court. He looks at Kieu, Raul, Kiernan, Doyle.

"My children. What is the meaning of this desertion? Kieu? After all I have done for you, how could you treat me like this, not once, but twice in one night? No bother. All is forgiven. Let it be said that I am a tolerant man."

Kieu holds Kiernan tighter.

"Daddy, please. Don’t do this."

Stalriq motions for his subordinates to retrieve his children. He sees Angel prepare to leap. Stalriq places his left hand at the base of Cordelia ’s neck.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Don’t move. As friends of my children, I can forgive this… indiscretion, but if you attempt to stop me, I will be forced to break the neck of this luscious creature beside me."

Angel stops dead in his tracks; his eyes never leave Stalriq. The commandos close in. One picks up a kicking and thrashing Kiernan. The same soldier forces Kieu to walk over to where Stalriq is standing. Another pushes Doyle away from Angel. Still another grabs Raul by the arm. While being dragged away, Raul looks back at Angel.

"Oh, come on! Who gives a shit about the bitch! There are four of us; there are more of us. We’re more important than she is! DAMN IT! Do something!"

Out in the hallway, Spike and Buffy hear Raul’s screams. They run around the corner and come to a screeching halt. Buffy takes in the scene: Stalriq holding Cordelia. Stalriq’s commandos hold Kieu, Doyle, Raul and Kiernan to the side, next to Stalriq. The Sunnydale gang stands together. A flash of recognition enters her mind – a little girl with blue eyes playing with dolls. Dolls. Those Dolls! Buffy runs up to the retreating Stalriq.

"Hey! Rupaul! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size."

Stalriq glances over his shoulder at the petite slayer. He sizes her up for a second before looking away. Buffy runs past his guards, past Stalriq. She comes to a stop in front of the towering demon.

"Oh come on, Stalriq. Surely, a Slayer is a better catalyst than a young girl is. I’m strong, strong enough to carry the likes of you."

Stalriq considers this suggestion for a second. He beckons a member of his entourage to come closer. He passes Cordelia off to this individual. Stalriq approaches Buffy. He extends a hand out and softly touches her face. Suddenly, Stalriq recoils from this touch. He cocks his eyebrow.

"You cannot serve my purposes."

Easily, Stalriq dismisses Buffy with a flick of his wrist. Buffy pushes ahead.

"What? Am I too much woman for you?"

Stalriq pauses. He extends his hand, grabbing Buffy by the throat. His gesture is swift and exact, almost too fast to be seen. Harshly, he slams Buffy against the wall.

"Look at you, weak from fighting for these mortals. You’re so pathetically weak that you’re practically human."

With those final words said, Stalriq hurls Buffy down the corridor and into the path of a man and his pregnant wife. Buffy stands quickly, not looking at the couple – a balding, older man and a young woman. Buffy stands with her legs spread, her feet firmly planted on the ground.

"I’m not letting you just leave here, Stalriq. Why not make this simple, take me instead."

From behind Buffy, the man says:

"Buffy?"

Buffy looks over her shoulder at the balding man behind her. She gasps in shock and turns toward the woman pressing her self against the wall. The woman is at least half the man’s age. Buffy looks back at the man in front of her.

"Dad?"

The woman against the wall finally speaks.

"Hank, who is this? Hank, we gotta go. The contractions are eight minutes apart."

Hank appears flustered as he turns to the woman.

"Just hold on. She’s my daughter. (Turning back to Buffy) Buffy, what are you doing here? Who are all these people? Does Joyce know you’re here?

Stalriq takes in this tragic scene. Amused, he calls out to Buffy.

"My, my…Buffy. It seems you have family problems to contend with…"

Stalriq slips by Buffy and starts to proceed down the hall.

"…try tending to them and leave me to mine."

Buffy reaches out for Stalriq with her left hand, but is stopped by a tugging on her right arm. Glancing over her shoulder, Buffy sees her father holding her arm.

"You’re not going anywhere. What do you think you’re doing? Buffy, I asked you a question: Does your mother know where you are?"

Buffy stands stunned. She can’t see. She can’t hear. All she can perceive is a date – a date from over three years ago. The last time she saw her father. He told her he’d see her in a couple of months but, he never did. The letters and the e-mails. Trying to see him, only to fail.

"Buffy, I’m your father, I have a right to know."

Buffy looks at her father with cold and unfeeling eyes.

"You lost that right a long time ago."

Buffy rips her arm out of her father’s grip. She turns in time to see Stalriq and his retinue leave through the sliding doors. Turning in the opposite direction, she sees Angel, Spike and the others come running down the corridor. Turning to examine the man at her side, Buffy sees his trophy bride. Buffy looks at the woman’s protruding belly, her curious, questioning eyes. Blinking back tears, Buffy whispers to her father:

"Mom is dead and so are you."

With one last look at the swollen stomach of the woman at her father’s side, Buffy exits the hospital. Spike takes her hand and leads the way. Into the parking lot. Into the car. She refuses to look back. Not even once. Not ever again.

The busy streets of Los Angeles are further disturbed by the emergence of two black vans. The vans fly down the road, swerving in and out of traffic. At one point, the vehicles go the wrong way on a one-way street. All the while, they are pursued by a black DeSoto. On the Freeways. On the parkways. On the main streets. On the back streets, the black vans are pursued. In the vans, the drivers are being warned of the penalty for failure. In the DeSoto, the driver is congratulated on a job well done. In the vans, the drivers decide to split up when they come to a three-way intersection. The plan causes the moment of hesitation prayed for. Giles chooses to follow to the right but, within a couple of blocks, looses sight of his prey. Slamming his fist against the steering wheel, Giles curses his fate. The DeSoto slows down and returns to base. The occupants pray it’s

not too late. Back at Angel’s office, the group is formulating a plan. Angel sits,

brooding his fate. Buffy sits with Giles, describing her dream. Spike paces back and forth. Angel looks up at his childe.

"Don’t tell me you still fidget when you’re anxious."

Spike stops fast. He burns his stare into Angel.

"You got a problem, mate?"

Buffy and Giles look up, startled by the angry words. Angel puts his hands up, unable to bring himself to rebuff his childe. Spike, too drained to continue, takes up his pacing again. In the office, Willow types furiously on the computer. Turning on the printer, Willow turns to the band of fatigued and weary warriors.

"I think I may have an idea."

The group congregates around the printer. Willow holds up the freshly printed pages.

"This is a locating spell. With it, I can find out where Stalriq is keeping Doyle and Cordelia and everybody."

The group looks uneasily at the spell in Willow’s hand. Willow’s enthusiasm falters a bit at the lack of eagerness expressed for her plan. With a stamp of her foot, Willow flashes angry green eyes at the crowd.

"Look, I know I screwed up with the wind conjuring spell. I know I’m just a novice witch, but I think I can do this. I think I have the talent and the ability to perform this spell. A-And, I think it’s the best idea I’ve heard so far."

The group commits a collective nod. Willow nods harshly, for emphasis. Spreading the spell on the desk, Willow points to the directions.

"This is what I’m going to need: A white candle, a lighter or match, a small bowl and cup, pepper, basil, rosemary, a map of Los Angeles and the surrounding areas and pictures of Doyle and Cordelia."

The group split up. A few minutes pass before they reconvene at the desk. Willow directs Spike and Angel to push the desk against the wall, opening up the floor. Willow kneels in the center of the room. She places the map before her. She gathers the pepper, basil and rosemary in the small bowl and sets it in front of her, on the map. She pulls out a lighter and a white candle and sets them to the side, together. To her other side, Willow

places a small cup of water. She places a picture of Cordelia and Doyle on top of the bowl in front of her. With a handful of salt, Willow forms her circle. With a last look at Giles, Willow brings her hands together, in a state of prayer. Her eyes close. Her head bows. Slowly, Willow chants. A tremor runs through her. Willow’s head is thrown back and then springs forward again. Her eyes open wide. Willow reaches for the candle and lighter. With a smooth action, she flicks on the flame. With a graceful bend