All characters from BtVS are properties of Mutant Enemy Productions. They are welcome to Sheila Rosenberg. Hunka-hunka Burning Nerd Dialogue in this story taken from "Seeing Red" by Steve DeKnight.

***

"We'll be done soon," Spike assured Tara as he signed yet another form. They'd been at the bank for almost an hour, dealing with the paperwork to open his accounts. The process had proved far less painful than he'd anticipated, thanks in no part to the efficiency of Colleen, who'd not questioned his request for an evening appointment and had been waiting with a check drawn on shop funds to serve as his opening balance.

Still, there were far more pleasant things they could be doing than signing papers in a bank on a Friday evening. Even Colleen had excused herself once she was certain the matter was well in hand and the clerk attending them looked eager to be away. "Any progress last night?" he asked when the clerk excused herself to take care of a few details.

Tara smiled. "Some, but not as much as we'd like. Willow said one of the CDs from Warren's had a bunch of blueprints and diagrams on it, but we're still trying to figure it out what it represents. That's what we're looking at tonight."

Given the way Tara lowered her eyes with the slightly embarrassed look she always got when discussing her personal life, Spike couldn't resist a raised eyebrow. "Do I hear true love beating its wings again?"

She hung her head forward, a curtain of hair hiding her face, but Spike could have sworn he saw a nod. Then she was looking up, though, letting her worries show through. "I want to trust Willow, but I keep remembering what she did. It's hard to make the leap."

"Because you don't know if the net is going to be there or if you'll need to leave again." Spike thought of the times Buffy had looked at him with loathing and then the way she'd looked at him yesterday. "It's hard."

Tara reached out and squeezed his hand, giving him one of her sweet, shy smiles. Funny to realize that six months ago, he'd dismissed her simply as Red's lover, just another one of the Scoobies who used him when necessary and ignored him otherwise.

The clerk returned. "Just a few more things and we'll be finished, Mr. Ashbury-Smythe. Now, you need to pick what check style you'd like."

The woman laid a book on the desk before him, opening it to reveal pictures of the styles available. "Most of these are, of course, available in either regular or duplicate."

He had no idea what that meant. Just looking at the various types was bewildering enough. He understood the concept behind checks, had written bank drafts when he was human, but nothing had actually prepared him for this particular choice. Flowers, sports figures, geometric patterns...what image did a vampire choose to express himself?

Spike turned another page and Tara pointed to one image. "Oh, look. Kittens. Perfect for when you have to pay your poker debts."

For a moment, he thought she'd gone mad, but she was wearing the wicked little smile that spoke of the sense of humor she only displayed to a lucky few. "Right. I can see myself down at Willy's with those." He turned to the clerk. "I think I'll go with just plain."

"Very good. Do you want green, blue or yellow?"

With a sigh, Spike fell back on a variation of his shop mantra: Do not eat the bank clerk. Do not eat the bank clerk. Do not eat...

***

Spike tried to buy her dinner with some of the money he'd pulled from his brand-new account with his brand-new ATM card, but Tara insisted on heading straight for Revello Drive. After a bit of persuasion, she agreed to let him pick up takeout, a pizza, chicken wings and a container of salad, something he figured would make a change from the Doublemeat meals he knew Buffy frequently brought home to extend her budget.

"Spike! Tara! And you brought food! Non-Doublemeat Medley food!" Dawn's eyes were bright as she took in the bags they carried.

Spike shrugged as best he could while holding two pizza boxes and a carton of wings. "I figure I owed you something for the madness you've had to go through for the last week."

"So you decided food would be a good bribe?" She considered for a moment. "Okay. That's acceptable."

Dawn grabbed the wings and led the way into the kitchen. "Buffy should be home in an hour and Willow's upstairs getting ready." She offered up a big grin that suggested research was not necessarily the only thing on Willow's mind.

"So she did tell her parents she wasn't coming over?" Tara asked.

"Said she had a test to study for. Probably the only thing her mother would understand." Dawn pulled some plates out of the cabinet.

Tara's lips tightened slightly, but she said nothing. Not a good sign, but she and Red would have to settle it in their own way. After, the course of true love, etcetera. By the time Willow came downstairs, however, hair all shiny and looking very happy to see Tara and not at all surprised to see Spike, Tara showed no sign of uneasiness.

Willow happily tucked into one of the pizza and snagged herself some salad. "Really sweet of you, Spike. So, papers all signed and the Magic Box is yours, now?"

"Mine and Giles'. Unless I manage to get Anya to come to her senses at some point in the near future."

He could see how well the idea sat with Willow. Then, she'd always been a bit jealous of any woman who went near Xander. "Well, yes, of course. But I bet you'll do fine. Giles teaching you everything he knows?"

She seemed determined to stick to small talk and Spike let her, contenting himself with the beer Dawn dug out from the depths of the refrigerator. It was probably one of Xander's, but the idea of snagging one of his beers didn't bother Spike in the least. It did, however, turn his mind to another problem. "Harris supposed to be dropping over tonight?"

Willow shook her head. "I talked to him earlier. He said he was going to just stay in; I think he's not feeling sociable."

One problem solved and Spike could relax and enjoy his beer without worrying about the Whelp's imminent arrival. Instead, he could wait for Buffy's.

She came through the front door slightly earlier than the hour Willow had predicted, not that Spike minded. A vision in orange and white polyester, her eyes were tired and her hair hung limply. "You win, Dawn. I couldn't deal with another Doublemeat entrée myself. We'll just bite the bullet and...oh."

Buffy stood in the doorway to the kitchen, eying the spread on the counter. "Spike brought dinner," Dawn announced cheerfully. "He even brought salad."

"I...see. I don't know what to say." Her expression was neutral, showing no feeling one way or the other.

Realizing he might have overstepped a line, Spike tried to smooth things over. "I offered to buy Tara dinner once we'd finished at the bank, but she said she and Red were going to work on Nerd hunting. Figured I'd pick up some stuff as a thanks to her and Dawn for putting up with the madness over the past week."

"Two pizzas?"

He shrugged as casually as he could. "Donatelli's had a two-for-one family sized special. Figured it wouldn't go to waste."

For a moment, he thought she might react as badly as she had to some of his other offers, but all he got was a sigh. "Dawn, do you think you can manage not to swallow everything before I finish my shower?"

Dawn suggested she might be persuaded to leave some pizza and Buffy retreated toward the stairs. Willow and Tara followed, heads together as they made their way to the living room. Once they were gone, Spike turned to Dawn. "Your sister sleeping okay, Niblet?"

There was a long pause as Dawn picked at a piece of melted cheese stuck to the bottom of one of the pizza boxes. "I don't think so. She's worried...about Warren, about Xander. I think she's worried about Willow, too."

Always with the weight of the world on her shoulders. "Been patrolling too, has she?"

"Not the last couple of days. She said something about trying to get some in tonight."

"Let's see if we can talk her out of it, get her to bed early...and don't look at me like that, Dawn. You're not old enough to have such thoughts."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm almost sixteen. That's plenty old enough. Besides, when Buffy was sixteen..."

Dawn broke off at his glare. "Do not even think of going there. Different circumstances entirely. Besides, she lied to your mum about the whole thing, so it's not the best example to bring up."

This time, she didn't choose to argue with him, though Spike had no doubt the issue would come up with increasing frequency. There was a tendency among the Scoobies to treat Dawn as if she were a small child, a course of action that only encouraged such behavior. She was growing older whether her sister liked it or not, and the boy she'd been caught with on Halloween would hardly be the last. If they were lucky, he'd be the last vampire.

Dawn chose to stay silent until Buffy returned, wet hair scraped back into a ponytail, clad in sweatpants and t-shirt. Definitely patrolling clothes. "Saved you some salad," Dawn said cheerfully, passing her sister a plate.

Buffy accepted the plate with a slight smile and spooned a small helping of leafy greenness onto it. Spike frowned as he watched her add the merest dab of dressing. "That's it?"

She shrugged. "I'm not really hungry. I might have some more after patrol."

He wanted to shovel a half-dozen wings on her plate. He wanted to insist she spend the evening pampering herself, not worrying about Xander, Willow, Dawn or the Nerds. He also knew either suggestion would get her back up, earn him a pop in the nose and a quick slam of the door as she headed out.

Spike watched Buffy chew on her salad and considered his options. "Got a proposition for you, luv."

She looked up at him with a bit of surprise and Dawn chose that moment to hop off her stool at the counter. "Got homework; see you later."

It didn't take much to realize Dawn would be hovering in the back hall just outside the kitchen doorway. She'd done it to him often enough last summer. If, however, she was expecting to overhear something juicy, she would be disappointed. "Why don't you let me take patrol tonight? You stay home and do some bonding with the Niblet."

"You're offering to take patrol for me?"

"Why not? You look like you could use an evening off and after the week I had, the opportunity to kill something would be welcome."

Now was the hard part, waiting to see how she would react. With any luck, her pig-headed temper wouldn't get in the way and she'd take him up on his offer. "We could always go together," she suggested as she picked at her salad.

Not what he hoped for, but a start. "Or you could save your strength for when Red figures out what the Nerds are up to. Leave the fledglings to me."

She frowned. "I don't know..."

Spike couldn't help smiling. She was weakening; the way she sighed, looked at him sideways, then looked at the door, then back at him – it was what she always did just before she did something she didn't want to admit she wanted to do. "Tell you what." He reached for the carton of wings. "Why don't you have a few of these while you think about it?"

Buffy looked at the wings he put on her plate, then back up at him. He didn't fool her and he knew it.

But she did pick up one of the wings and start to eat.

***

It was wet and sticky. Worst of all, Warren and Andrew were laughing at him. Jonathon couldn't see them yet as he made his way back toward the barrier that divided one cavern from the other, but he knew they were. Laughing and plotting, which seemed to be all they did these days. The floppy feet of the Neezla skin he wore slapped along humiliatingly on the uneven stone floor, removing any possibility of dignity whatsoever.

He approached the barrier, pausing to make certain he was fully covered by the skin. Going through the first time had been bad enough; he didn't relish getting fried on the trip back. Adjusting his grip on the box, he was about to step through when Warren's words floated through. "This works the way we planned it, by the end of tomorrow night Jonathon won't be a problem."

So this was it. His clock was ticking and it was all he could do not to run the other way. He didn't know the tunnels, though and he was still thinking clearly enough to realize he wasn't equipped to handle any Neezla demons that happened along. The only way out was through the barrier.

Warren's eyes were bright and greedy. "Did you get it?"

"Yeah. I got it." Warren didn't seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm, more intent upon snatching the rectangular object.

"That's it?" Andrew complained.

"It'd better be." Jonathon said, pulling the demon skin away from his head. "No way I'm going back through there. That thing stings like a mother."

Warren paid the exchange no heed, having pulled a small electronic device from his pocket and slid it across the top of the box. Energy crackled in the lines that decorated the box and then the lid popped open to reveal two glass globes.

"Gentlemen, the Orbs of Neezla'khan." Warren gingerly removed the orbs and let the box fall to the ground. "Strength.
Invulnerability. The deluxe package."

Andrew leaned forward, practically drooling. "They're everything I've dreamed of."

This was so not good. Any artifact promising strength and invulnerability was something to be handled with care, guarded against falling into the hands of those who might abuse the power. They often extracted a price from the user and Jonathon had to wonder if Warren knew or even cared what price might be required to use the orbs he now held in his hands. "You know those have been down here for like a zillion years. How do we know they still work?"

He meant the question as something to make Warren pause before he continued to hurtle headlong down this path, but it was to no avail as Warren tightened his fists around the orbs. A blast of energy threw both Jonathon and Andrew backwards, red light pulsing around Warren, glowing in his eyes. He was gasping and twitching, but he didn't seem to be in pain. On the contrary, he seemed to be riding some type of high.

When the twitching stopped, Warren grinned. "They work."

He slipped the orbs into a leather pouch at his waist, oh-so-conveniently designed to fit them perfectly. Jonathon eyed him suspiciously. "You don't look any different."

Andrew was more obvious with his disappointment, reaching out to poke at Warren. "I thought they were supposed to make us all huge and veiny. Are you sure they're working right?"

Warren looked past them and grinned. "Let's find out."

A roar announced the arrival of a Neezla Demon and Jonathon and Andrew managed to get out of the way just as he rushed the trio. Warren didn't move, however, meeting the demon head-on. The sound of bones shattering beneath blows was painful to listen to, but it was Warren who was landing them and Warren who spun the Neezla around and snapped its neck with unnerving ease. Whether by design or accident, the body landed at Jonathon's feet.

"Welcome to the show, boys." Warren was flexing his arms as if to test his limits.

Andrew's face was nothing less than worshipful. "That was so hot!"

Jonathon drew nearer, his eyes on the pouch. If he could get his hands on them, there'd be no way Warren could stop him from getting away – and he'd have the added bonus of stopping Warren's plans. Maybe he could go to Buffy, tell her what Warren was up to. She was a good guy; surely she'd help him. "Let me try 'em!"

Warren's hand shot out to grab his wrist, slowly tightening his fingers about the bones. "Watch the paws, little man."

Warren let go and Jonathon jerked his wrist back, rubbing at it to ease the hurt. "We're supposed to share."

"Relax. You'll each get a whirl." Warren's smile turned sinister. "As soon as I'm done playing with 'em."

***

It wasn't until the shop had closed on Saturday that Spike and Giles has a chance to pause and catch their breath. Rather, Spike saw it as an opportunity to relax for a moment; Giles saw it as an opportunity to go over the list he'd drawn up. "Identification, bank account, transfer papers, insurance..."

Spike tried to bite back a groan. "Why are you going through this? I'm just going to sell it back to Demon-girl the moment she asks...or as soon as I can convince Tara to take it off my hands."

"Unfortunately, we have no idea when Anya will come to her senses regarding the shop and Tara seems singularly unenthusiastic about taking it on. I'm not doing this for you, Spike. I'm doing it for myself. Despite the fact you are now majority owner, I still care what happens to this place and I intend to do my best to see you don't run it into the ground."

With a sigh, he dropped the papers onto the round table and pulled off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his other hand. "There's one other thing to discuss. You should know Buffy is my beneficiary as far as the shop is concerned."

"Not planning to die on me, are you, Rupes?"

The sarcastic tone provoked a bit of a smile. "No, but we are on a Hellmouth and I'm not getting any younger. Besides, it's only right I let you know...in case."

Spike didn't like the sound of that. "You're not planning on buggering back to the mother country any time soon, are you?" This time his tone was quieter, more serious.

"Buffy knows I only came back to deal with the shop. Once everything's settled..."

Giles was silent for a moment, then took a breath and continued after making certain Dawn was busy elsewhere and out of earshot. "There comes a point where a young woman doesn't need a watcher or a father. She should be making her own decisions about her life. It doesn't mean, however, that she's alone. She needs support from friends, family." His eyes met Spike's. "Her lover."

Spike squirmed uncomfortably. "This the part where you ask me my intentions."

"They're obvious every time you look at her. She walks into the shop and your eyes follow her. You make no secret how you feel. And, whether I like it or not – and I don't like it – I believe Buffy may have feelings for you. It's not the choice I would make for her, but she's the one who'll have to live with it. This is not, by the way, an endorsement or encouragement."

No, but it was better than a stake in the heart. "So you want make sure I'm good to Buffy and don't strangle the Whelp in a fit of pique, is that it?"

"That, and let the shop remain available for training, research, all those things Buffy needs help and support in."

Before Spike could answer, the door opened to admit Willow and Tara, their arms full of paper. "Giles! I've got it!"

Willow dumped the papers on the table and gently set the bag with her laptop beside it. "We need to call Buffy. I know what Warren's up to."

***

The face staring back from the mirror at Xander wasn't a pleasant one. When had he gained so much weight? Oh, right. Stress eating before the wedding and drinking after. Well, if he went back out to the Bronze's well-stocked bar, a few more drinks would make certain he didn't care how his swim team physique had disappeared.

Swim team. Maybe he should call Cordelia down in Los Angeles, see how she was doing. He could take a little road trip, get together with her, talk over old times. Wait. She was working for Angel. With his luck, she'd turn out to have the hots for the big brooder. What had he done to deserve this? All the women he cared for turned gay, demon or fell in love with a vampire. Make that 'vampires', plural.

That thought was enough to drive him to the door and the prospect of more alcohol. With any luck, the woman who'd been coming on to him at the bar would be gone. Sure, she was attractive enough, but the way things had been running for him, she'd probably turn out to be a succubus or something equally icky.

Even as well lubricated as he was, Xander couldn't help but notice the atmosphere inside the club had changed. For one thing, the music had stopped, though that could easily be because whoever was supposed to be manning the tape machine wasn't paying attention and hadn't started it up when the band took a break. The crowd was a little too quiet, though.

"Don't worry about the tab, ladies. It's on Daddy tonight." Warren's words were punctuated by a crash as he slammed his fist into the cash register. Part of Xander's brain told him he needed to run, get Buffy; another told him it was only Warren and he could handle it. Yeah, he'd show them he was able to stand up for himself.

Warren was practically drooling down the front of a woman's dress, clearly making her far more nervous than she already was. The two stooges, Andrew and Jonathon stood off to one side, watching. At least Jonathon had the decency to look uncomfortable as the woman burst into tears; Andrew seemed more interested in his fruity little drink with the umbrella in it. "Aww, don't cry, baby. Daddy's going to give you some too."

As good an opening as any. "See, I think the daddy thing throwing her," Xander said as he strolled up. "'Cause incest...not that sexy."

Warren just looked at him. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but Xander was sure he could take him if necessary. Andrew and Jonathon weren't even in the equation. "So why don't we leave the ladies to their impending nausea and move the freak show outside?"

A nasty grin was not what Xander expected, but not surprising given the way things had been going. "And you know all about freak shows, don't you?" Warren replied. "I mean, don't you ever get a hankering to watch some of Willow and Tara's girl on girl action? Too bad you can't convince Buffy to participate, 'cause that would be just perfect. Wait, I forgot; she prefers vampires."

Xander didn't think. He swung. Good force behind the blow, right amount of follow through and a lucky landing right on Warren's jaw. Even in his somewhat inebriated condition, Xander knew the blow should send the other man at least staggering backward.

Streaks of pain streaked down his arm, but Warren didn't even twitch. "That's it? You hit like a girl, Harris. No, worse. Any of your girlfriends could have done better."

"At least I can get girlfriends," Xander ground out, cradling his aching hand.

He got one glimpse of a darkening face, and then everything was blotted out by Warren's fist. Pain exploded in his head as he sailed over a table and onto the floor. He could hear the crowd reacting but it all seemed to be through a haze, darkness threatening to rush up and envelope him. From far away, Warren's voice said, "Let's see how popular you are without a face."

He was going to die. Somehow Warren had gotten real powerful and he was going to die, beaten to a pulp on the floor of the Bronze. He braced himself for the blow to come, but it didn't. Another voice, Jonathon this time. "Warren, we have to go."

With an effort, Xander opened his eyes. Warren was looming over him, Andrew watching gleefully at his shoulder. "We go when I say so."

Jonathon shrugged. "Your call. But if we hang around, we're going to miss that thing you wanted to do. Just saying."

Thing? Habits formed from six years of listening to villains babble important clues in inconsequential sentences kicked in and Xander tried to force himself to pay attention. There was no more information, though, just the welcome sound of Warren saying, "It's your lucky night, Shemp."

Straightening his coat, Warren swept toward the door, Andrew following in his wake. Jonathon hesitated, looking down at Xander as if he wanted to say something, but then he, too, scurried out the door.

Xander let his head drop back to the floor and released the breath he'd been holding. Oh, man, he hurt. Couldn't stop, though. He had to get up and get to Buffy, let her know what was happening.

***

Buffy hung up the phone in Lorraine's office, wondering how she was going to talk her way out of this one. Somehow, she had a feeling she wasn't.

"Buffy, I think we need to talk," her manager said as she came out of the door.

"Uh, yeah. We do." Buffy stepped back into the office, not sure whether she should sit down or not. She decided not to; she really couldn't afford to waste time.

"I know you've been having some trouble lately," Lorraine began, taking her chair behind the desk, "but I think we need to discuss whether you are really committed to this job. The phone calls, the absences...and there was the time you just left in the middle of a shift. You're good people, Buffy and you've got a lot of potential, but if you keep going this way..."

"You're going to have to fire me." Good thing she hadn't sat down; this probably wouldn't take very long.

Lorraine nodded sadly. "What I need from you is a commitment that you're going to be here for the Doublemeat Palace, that you don't want to be just a short-timer."

"I've got loads of commitment, tons of it. It's just..." Buffy took a deep breath. "I'll be happy to show you how much commitment I have, but I need to have the rest of the night off."

At least she didn't have to actually hear the words because Lorraine just stared at her in amazement. "Should I clean out my locker?"

"It would probably be best." The manager sighed. "I wish this could have turned out differently. You'll get your last check mailed to you."

"Thanks." Now that it was done, she wanted nothing more than to be gone. "I'll just change so you can have the uniform."

Buffy turned to go, but stopped as Lorraine spoke. "Buffy, let me offer a piece of advice. If you're going to succeed, you need to stick to what you're doing, not let yourself get distracted or confuse your priorities. You're a bright girl; you can do it if you put your mind to it."

The irony didn't escape Buffy as she hurried toward the Magic Box. She was doing exactly what Lorraine advised: sticking to what she should be doing, putting her calling first. Too bad slaying didn't pay the bills.

She'd worry about bills tomorrow. At the moment, the thought of being free of Grease City was enough to speed her along. She'd talk to Giles, get his advice; maybe he could suggest a nice slayer-compatible job.

The whole crew was assembled when she arrived: Willow and Tara at the research table, Spike, Dawn and Giles dealing with shop business. Only Xander was missing and she had to wonder if he was drowning his sorrows again. Pushing that thought away, she headed straight for Willow. "I'm here."

Willow looked apologetic. "Sorry to call you out of work, but I figured you want to see this."

"Don't worry about it." She almost put her bag on the table, but reconsidered when she realized it was covered in papers, and headed for the counter to drop it there. "Doesn't matter; the Doublemeat Palace and I have finally parted company."

Not surprisingly, whatever Willow had uncovered was promptly forgotten as the questions came tumbling forth from Willow, Tara and Dawn. "How?" "Why?" "Does this mean we don't have to have Doublemeat Medleys for dinner anymore?"

These questions she could answer, especially Dawn's. It was whom she wasn't hearing questions from that would prove more difficult. As Spike and Giles were watching her with almost identical expressions of concern, she wasn't going to underestimate how difficult those conversations would be.

No time for that now. She'd taken the leap because Willow said she had something; time to determine what it was. Deliberately ignoring the men, Buffy returned to the research table. "You said you had it."

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Warren." Willow turned back to her laptop. "We've got this."

She hit some keys and diagrams began to flash across the screen. "It's encoded diagrams and blueprints. Took us some time to figure it out because he stripped out all the designations."

"So we went to the library, took a look at the original blueprints. It's amazing what's archived there." Tara smiled at Willow. "Once we matched it up, everything started to fall into place. Banks, armored cars, corporate vaults...this is big."

"Warren's planning some type of spree." Willow entered some keystrokes and the display changed, a list of dates and places scrolling across the screen. "He's looking to score some serious moolah."

Serious was right, given the list Willow had produced. "There's no way I can cover all of these...there's no way Warren could cover all of these. Unless he's turned into Superman or something."

"Which might be a strong possibility."

The bruise around Xander's left eye and the bloody nose he was still holding a tissue to made for a pretty dramatic entrance. "Okay, maybe not Superman," he admitted as he joined them. "But at least Mighty Mouse."

Buffy stared at the injuries to her friend's face. "Warren did this to you?"

He nodded, wincing as he sank onto a bench. "I found him at the Bronze. Rather, his fist found my face."

"Xander, tilt your head back. That should help the bleeding." Tara was on her feet, one hand gently supporting Xander's skull while the other pulled the tissue away from his nose. "I'm going to need the first aid kit. A cold cloth would be good, too."

Dawn and Spike moved to get the items she requested while Giles left the counter to join the rest of the group. "Did there seem to be any mystical source to his strength or do you think the enhancement was due to some mechanical or scientific method?"

"Not sure. It was a little hard to tell with his fists coming straight at me. Ow!"

"Sorry." Tara peered at Xander's nose. "I don't think it's broken, but it'll be easier to tell when I clean the blood off. Spike, could you get me a napkin and some water?"

Xander's body tensed at the name, but he didn't say anything. "You didn't have a chance to observe him before the two of you fought?" Giles asked, thankfully focusing on the issue and not the interpersonal relationships.

"I was just coming out of the bathroom, heading back to the bar and there he was. Didn't really have time to take notes."

Spike and Dawn arrived with the supplies and Tara set to work cleaning Xander's face. Buffy sighed. "So Warren's gone mighty somehow. Just great. Willow, tell me more about these sprees he's got planned. One of them has got to give me an opportunity."

For a moment Willow didn't reply, watching Tara and Xander. Then she shook her head and turned back to the screen of her laptop. "Right. There's one listed for tonight. Big one, too."

As Buffy leaned over Willow's shoulder, Xander said, "Jonathon mentioned something about Warren having a thing tonight. Ow!"

"Sorry. Almost done." Tara dabbed gently at his nose. "If Warren's suddenly so strong, shouldn't you have some back up?"

"Tara has a point. We have the evidence Warren has done something to enhance his abilities; it would be foolish to face him alone."

The "oh, dear" face Giles wore didn't fill her with confidence. "I have no intention of facing Warren and his nerdettes alone. I mean, I have..."

She broke off as she looked around her. Xander was out of the picture, the right side of his face doing an impression of elementary school finger-painting. Buffy watched as he reluctantly reached out to pick up the bottle of painkillers Spike had put on the table in front of him. Tara was busy with the first aid equipment, her hands precise and capable; Buffy couldn't picture those hands landing a punch or swinging a weapon.

Then there was Willow. Seated before her laptop, she was perfectly capable, but could she be counted on in this type of fight? Probably not; her best asset was the magic and there was no way Buffy was going to ask her to go there.

Dawn wasn't even going to be considered, which left her with Giles and Spike. Giles could provide a certain amount of back up in a pinch, but he never was and never had been her first choice in a hand-to-hand fight. Which meant...

Spike grinned. "I think an axe might be fun...or would you prefer to leave their body parts intact?"

Buffy found herself grinning in response...and the grin quickly fading. "No, Spike. You can't come with me. I can't risk the possibility Warren could set your chip off again."

She could see him struggle with his emotions and wondered if he would argue. Quickly, though, a stony mask descended. "Right. You're taking Giles."

It wasn't a question. Reflexively, Buffy opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. Spike had never been shy in criticizing her friends and their abilities; if he felt Giles should accompany her, he had a reason. Nodding, she told him, "Get weapons. Willow, give me a time check."

According to Willow they had a little time, though not much. She'd just have to make the best of it.

Spike didn't look up from the weapons chest as she entered the room, just asked the question, "Sharp or blunt?"

"Blunt. We're trying to stop, not kill."

His shoulders stiffened, but he kept rifling in the chest. "Baseball bat it is, then. He's a dab hand with it, if I remember correctly."

She drew closer, reached out to touch his shoulder. "If it wasn't for the chip..."

"If it wasn't for the chip," Spike said as he closed the chest, bat grasped firmly in one hand, "you and I wouldn't be standing here and we both know it."

He was right, though it hurt to hear him say it. The chip was what had moved Spike from the "must be killed" column to the "might be useful even if annoying" column. From there, he'd become ally, confidant and...she was still dealing with what he'd become next.

He stood and she could see the controlled anger in his face. For some reason, she suddenly remembered the test she'd been forced to undergo by the Council when she turned eighteen, her fury at being rendered helpless. Was that how he felt about being chipped?

Then he looked at her and his expression softened as it so often did. "The chip is there, though, and it means there are things I can't help you with. Does it piss me off? Damn straight. Doesn't do any good to sit in a corner and brood about it."

"I just wanted to know..." Buffy stopped, not sure what to say or why she'd followed him. It wasn't like he'd been begging for reassurance.

"You're about to go out and pound the baddies; not the moment when you should be worrying whether or not my feelings are hurt." He reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand. "You're supposed to make certain you come back in one piece."

His voice was soft, wrapping itself around her like a warm and familiar blanket. She leaned into his hand, his skin refreshingly cool against hers. "I will."

"Promise?" At this moment, his eyes reminded her of a pool on a warm summer's day --refreshing, inviting, drawing her in. All she had to do was fall...

Buffy wasn't sure when she moved toward him or closed her eyes or parted her lips, but the kiss was sweet and tender, far more tender than she usually allowed. Distantly, she heard the bat clatter to the floor, but Spike's arms circling her waist was of far more interest. Her hands went to his chest as if some instinct wanted to push him away, only to slide them up around his neck.

This was...nice. Very nice. Nice enough that she wanted to stay this way for a long time, him holding her close, her fingers twining in strands of hair which started to curl beneath her touch. Most importantly, his mouth on hers, kissing and teasing in a gentle way.

"Buffy, it's time to go."

Giles' voice didn't penetrate at first, her world consumed by the man in her arms. "Buffy?"

Reluctantly, she pulled away, not taking her eyes from Spike's. "I have to go."

He smiled down at her and her stomach did the most amazing flip-flop. Then he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Come home safe."

It was enough to get her moving, heading for the door and what she hoped would be her final showdown with Warren. Giles looked serious as she passed, though whether because of what awaited them or what he just witnessed, she was unsure. Behind her, she heard Spike's voice, full of snark and cheer. "Giles, I would count it a personal favor if you could break a kneecap or two."

She didn't listen for the response as she grabbed her coat and slipped it on. Tara, Dawn and Willow were still clustered around Xander, but with the blood from his nose cleared away, he looked better though still bad. "Sure you don't need the emergency room?"

Xander started to insist he was fine, but Tara quickly chimed in. "It would probably be best. I mean, it's not swelling, but he should be checked out."

"Fine. One of you drive him over..." She stopped in mid-sentence. Lord, was Xander really the only one their group who could drive? They were so pathetic.

Spike and Giles had emerged from the training room, Giles now carrying the bat. No, there were two others drivers...and no way around it. "Spike, I need you to drive Xander over to the emergency room."

Not surprisingly, Xander did not take this suggestion well. "I am not getting into a car with Evil Undead, Jr.!"

"You're not driving yourself. There's your eye for one thing and for another...how many drinks did you have?"

Silence gave her the answer. Too many. "It is so time for the rest of us to learn to drive. Xander, give me your keys...unless you want to go in the DeSoto."

She'd dropped into her Bossy Buffy voice, the one that didn't take no for an answer and didn't waste time. Xander glared, but dug into his pockets. Keys in hand, Buffy headed toward Spike. "Be good," she warned as she handed him the keys.

"As gold," he promised and given how happy he looked at the moment, she believed him. "Got your cell phone, Giles?"

Giles patted his pocket. "I'll call when we're done."

As they headed out the door, Buffy tried not to let her mind boggle at the idea of Giles with a cell phone. She shouldn't be surprised; after all, she'd been sitting there when Giles had told Spike they needed to get the things. She just hadn't anticipated Giles actually doing it so soon.

The drive to Six Flags Sunnydale wasn't busy at that time of night, but it still took a good half hour. Giles wasn't particularly talkative and Buffy didn't feel like filling the silence. What would she say to him? Giles, I'm thinking of dating Spike. Giles, what would you think if Spike and I started seeing each other? Giles, would the world really end if I took up with Spike?

No. Not a good time to talk; Buffy didn't particularly feel like having Giles wrap his car around a tree.

The parking lot was near empty when they got there, no attendant to take the toll. Well, near empty save for an all-too-familiar black van parked in one corner. "Think we're too late?" Giles asked.

"Not if that's still here. I'll see you up there." Buffy took off with all the speed she could manage, trusting Giles to follow as best he could. The park entrance and ticket booths were up a small slope, screened from the parking lot by a row of trees. A tram usually provided transportation, but Buffy's feet proved more than adequate to the task.

She was just in time. Beneath a large banner proclaiming "Opening Weekend!" Warren was lifting the rear of an armored car, its wheels spinning madly as the driver tried to get underway. As she digested the fact Xander had not been exaggerating, he pitched the truck onto it side, then reached out to rip the steel doors open. So not good.

She sprinted and grabbed him by the arm, catching him by surprise. With all the force she could muster, Buffy tossed him into the nearest wall. She didn't try to be gentle. "Didn't your mother teach you not to steal from other kid's piggy banks?"

Warren got to his feet too quickly and too easily. "I was wondering when Super Bitch would show up," he said as he began to stroll toward her.

Buffy circled, not willing to engage until she'd taken his measure. "Y'know, for a while I thought you had a problem with strong women, but I'm beginning to think its women, period."

"Haven't met one who can outthink me yet." He grinned nastily. "Or outfight me."

He laid into her and while Buffy matched him blow for blow, it was hard. He landed a few, sending her staggering backwards, but he didn't have her speed. Realizing her advantage, Buffy quickened her moves, trying to push him to whatever his limits were. He swung, she ducked and he staggered off-balance, allowing her to send him flying into the faux stone archway that marked the park's entrance.

The stone cracked beneath the blow and she could see the cement crumbling even as he rose to his feet. "That all you got?" he taunted as the cracks grew bigger. She knew she shouldn't, but the rumble of falling cement onto Warren was most satisfying.

"Buffy, is he...?" Giles had made it and Buffy found herself glad he'd missed the fight; given Warren's strength he wouldn't have been able to provide any useful help.

"I'm don't know, but he's not a problem at the moment, which leaves us with these two." She turned toward Jonathon and...what was his name?...the other one, currently cowering in front of one of the rows of ticket booths. "Wanna make it easy or hard? Come on; say hard."

As she walked toward them, the other one started to grin and she turned find Warren pulling himself from the rubble. Grabbing the bat from Giles' hands, she swung, wondering what it was going to take to put this guy out of commission.

The blow knocked him down, but he was back on his feet almost instantly. "I'm starting to wonder how you've managed to avoid getting killed by vampires all this time. Or do you bribe them with sex?"

Discarding the bat, Buffy put everything she could into the next punch. Warren barely registered the blow. "Real impressed, Slayer. Maybe you and I could work out a similar deal."

"Not if you were the last man..."

Buffy staggered as Jonathon leapt onto her back. She circled, trying to shake him loose and caught a glimpse of Giles manhandling the other nerd. In the middle of this, Jonathon suddenly whispered in her ear, "The orbs. Smash the orbs."

Warren was laughing, leaning casually against the overturned truck. "Why have we been so worried? I mean even Sparky's proving too much for you."

Buffy tossed Jonathon off, but before she could do anything else, Warren was on her again. Blows rained down savagely and she knew she'd feel it in the morning...assuming she survived. She fought back as best she could, but she could feel her energy starting to drop. Then he landed a blow in her stomach and she fell to her knees. Warren loomed over her, raising his fist back further than necessary, a victorious sneer on his face. "Say goodnight, bitch."

Then she saw it, the pouch at his waist with the steady red glow emanating from it. That had to be it, the source of this power. It parted from his belt surprisingly easily when she grabbed it and then it was a simple matter to slam it against the cement.

The effect on Warren was instantaneous. As a red wave washed outward from the shards of the orb, he was seized and caught in a red cloud. His eyes glowed red for an instant and then they were normal again...and he was gasping for air. Realizing the tide had turned, Buffy rose to her feet, ready to finish it. "Goodnight, bitch."

She landed a kick to his chest, sending him flying. This time, he didn't get up so quickly. "Play time's over, Warren. Time to pay for your games."

Warren struggled to his feet, shedding his jacket to reveal a...jet pack? "I swear to God I'm gonna take you down, you piece of..."

His last words were lost in the roar of the pack's engines as Warren soared into the sky on a stream of pillar of jet exhaust. Buffy just stared after him. "I don't believe it. Doesn't he ever run out of gadgets?"

"At least he didn't leave enough for these two." Giles had Andrew firmly in his grip, while Jonathon stood quietly to one side. "I called 911. The police should be on their way."

Andrew...that was his name, wasn't it?...seemed almost broken, giving Giles almost no difficulty. "He left me," the boy kept muttering. "He flew away and left me."

He wasn't going to be any use, so Buffy turned to Jonathon. "We have a few minutes before the police get here. Any ideas where Warren might have gone?"

***

Xander wasn't considered an urgent case, which meant he had to wait his turn. Spike quickly decided he'd rather wait outside where he could have a cigarette and keep his cell phone on. Tara opted to stay with Xander, which meant Willow stayed with Tara. Dawn looked a bit torn when Spike left, but stayed in the waiting room with the others.

Spike settled himself on a bench to the right of Sunnydale Memorial's ER entrance and leaned back against the building's wall. It'd been one hell of a day. There'd been the aborted conversation with Giles he was still trying to determine the implications of...and then there was Buffy.

A long drag on his cigarette and his head fell back, eyes closing as he recalled how sweet it'd been. Nothing like the desperate, passionate kisses they'd shared before, but she'd been willing and hadn't tried to deny what was happening when Giles had come upon them. She'd even let him show a little tenderness.

He'd been happily lost in contemplation of this development for some time when Dawn wandered outside. "They just let Xander in," she said as she sat down beside him.

"So we'll be here for another couple of hours?" Spike started to dig in his pocket for another cigarette but decided against it out of deference to Dawn.

"Probably." She settled on the bench next to him. "Remember how long it took when we came in for my arm?"

"Seemed like we'd be here for bloody ever. Really considered doing a spot of mayhem on the clerk."

Dawn leaned against him, shifting until she was snuggled up. "I didn't thank you for staying with me. I mean, I know Buffy would have if she hadn't had to deal with Willow," Spike didn't fail to notice the touch of acid on the name, though far less than he'd heard in the past, "but it was nice having you there."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, comfortable with each other. It'd been some time since they'd had a chance to be like this, the way they'd been over the summer when Buffy was gone. "Are Willow and Tara waiting for you inside?" he asked at last.

She shrugged, a delicate movement. "I told them I was coming out to let you know what was happening. I think they'd like the 'alone time.'"

He snorted. "The waiting room at Sunnydale Memorial is hardly conducive to romance."

"Maybe they can talk; y'know work out some of those things they need to work out." She drew his arm around her shoulders, holding onto his hand. "I noticed you and Buffy are talking again. I mean, there wasn't any yelling coming from the training room when she went after you earlier."

One of the things Spike had learned to recognize was when Dawn was on a fishing expedition. "We're being civil to each other, which is a start." He had no intention of letting the Bit know things seemed to have suddenly progressed beyond the "civil" stage.

"I wouldn't mind if you started dating. I mean really dating; not the sneaking around stuff you did earlier. You could come over, sit on the couch with her. I could annoy you guys until she chased me out. You could always bribe me to go away."

Spike couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up at this scenario. "Did you do this to her other boyfriends?"

"With Angel, no. They were all sneak around, too. I did with Riley, which really annoyed Buffy but he was always cool about it...or pretended to be. Oh, and there was this boy when we lived in LA Buffy was crazy about. Dad hated him, but he'd come over anyway when Dad was working late, which was most nights and they'd sit on the couch because Mom wouldn't let them actually go anywhere..."

It was a bit strange listening to Dawn babble on about Buffy's boyfriends, but he was glad to just sit there with her. No matter what happened between him and Buffy, he didn't want to lose this.

The trill of his cell phone broke the mood and he sat up, digging into his pocket for the device. "Hello?...Nah, still waiting. They apparently just took the Whelp in to examine him, so it'll probably be a while longer. Warren all taken care of?...Bloody hell! You're joking, right...You're not joking...Of course we should try to figure out what he's going to do next...Well, Anya's supposed to help me with the books and supply lists tomorrow...I don't think she'd mind; the question is whether or not Xander would...I'll ask and call you back...well, swing by the hospital. We do have to get everyone home, and it's way past Dawn's bedtime...yeah, she's giving me a dirty look. How's our slayer?...Good. See you soon."

He switched it off and dropped the phone back in his pocket. "Buffy's fine, but Warren got away. They caught Jonathon and Andrew, though. Giles wants everyone to gather at the shop tomorrow afternoon to try and figure out our next move."

Dawn rose as he did, both heading for the entrance. "And Anya's going to be there? Xander's not going to like it."

"I know; should make for a perfect afternoon."

***

It was an armed camp in some ways. Spike and Anya were sitting at the counter quietly going over shop business while the rest of the Scoobies were at the central research table. Giles split his time between the two groups, most of his attention focused on the best way to ensure Warren was no longer a threat, but bouncing up to answer questions if Spike or Anya called for him. Xander, bruised but fortunately not seriously injured, did his best to ignore the pair at the counter, though Buffy noticed he couldn't help glancing in their direction every so often. Willow was happily working away on her laptop and Buffy wouldn't be surprised to discover a good part of her glow was from the fact Tara was at her side, shifting through papers.

Perhaps armed camp was overstating it. Tara and Giles seemed at relative ease with Spike and Anya, while Willow didn't seem to care as long as Tara was with her. Dawn had begged off to go to the movies with friends, but it was a given she'd come down in the pro-Spike camp. It was only Xander at this point who seemed uncomfortable with Spike and Anya's presence, but that could be attributed to the fact this was the first time he'd been in the Magic Box since Anya had sold out.

"I think Warren was relying on the power from those orbs to power his spree," Willow said as she paged through the information on her laptop. "He couldn't do most of the job listed without some extra power."

"Which means he has either escaped to lick his wounds or is trying to uncover another method to fulfill his schemes." Giles drummed his fingers on the cover of a book. "The problem is, we don't know which."

Xander beat out a quick rhythm on the table "I'd say he's plotting something. Warren seems to have adopted the super-villain mentality. Probably figures he'll come back next issue..."

The bell over the door jingled and Spike called out, "I'm sorry, but we're closed."

"Spike, don't do that," Anya chided. "She might want to spend money."

Buffy looked toward the door. "I don't think so. How can we help you, Mrs. Rosenberg?"

Willow started, standing so rapidly the bench she was sitting on tipped over with a crash. "Mom! What are you doing here?"

"I might ask the same of you, Willow." Sheila Rosenberg advanced toward the research table, looking disapprovingly at the items around her. "You told your father you were studying all weekend and that's why you couldn't come for supper Friday. This is what you call studying?"

There was no way the papers spread out on the table could reasonably be passed off as schoolwork, especially not with a map of Sunnydale's electrical grid prominently displayed. "I'm working on a project?" Willow offered, trying anyway.

"One would hope you would work on a school project with some of your fellow students." Mrs. Rosenberg cast a critical glance at the group sitting around the table. "As far as I can tell, Tara is the only one who's actually enrolled at UC Sunnydale."

Giles stood up, the glasses coming off. "Mrs. Rosenberg, I understand you wish to speak with your daughter, but the store is closed and we are working on a project. Perhaps if you called her..."

Mrs. Rosenberg didn't look impressed. "But I have called her. I've left four messages in the last week and none of them have been returned. I stopped by the house both yesterday and today and no one was home. That's why I came here, since Willow seems intent upon using the occult as an expression of her rebellion against the values she was raised with."

Buffy had taken two of those messages, promising Willow's mother the messages would be duly passed on. They had been, but Willow hadn't seemed in much of hurry to answer them. "I've been busy," Willow was saying, looking more and more flustered as each second passed.

"Quite busy, clearly. I had hoped you would come to a mature decision about this, but I'm afraid I may have been too lenient on you. You give me no choice but to apply some tough love. You have this week to pack and next Saturday you will move back home." She held up her hand as Willow began to protest. "I know it's potentially disruptive to your schedule, especially with finals coming up, but your father and I have discussed this and we think it's for the best."

Willow stared at her mother, not even trying to respond. "I know this hurts," Mrs. Rosenberg continued, "but remember, we are making sacrifices as well. Having you back will mean a change in our lifestyle. However, if we pull together as a family, perhaps we can salvage this situation."

"Maybe we should take this across the street to the Espresso Pump." Xander was doing his best to smile, an effect something hindered by the bruising around his eye and nose. "Sit down, have a nice relaxing drink, maybe some chamomile tea. I remember you like chamomile tea."

The look Mrs. Rosenberg gave him was frosty. "What happened to you?"

Xander grimaced, clearly not ready to tell her the truth. Before he could come up with a plausible story, Willow was heading for the door. "I can't deal with this."

Without hesitating, Buffy followed, Tara hot on her heels. They caught Willow on the sidewalk outside the shop. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I can't deal with this, Buffy." Willow was almost in tears, her breathing rapid. "Mom doesn't care what's happening to me; she has my life all plotted out and I'm supposed to just follow along."

"But you can't keep avoiding it." Buffy reached out for her friend, hoping to keep her from bolting. "If you do, it's going to come crashing down on you. Believe me, I've just learned that one the hard way."

Tara also reached out, her hand gently stroking Willow's arm. "You don't have to go through this alone, sweetie. Let's go back inside and see if we can talk it out."

"In front of everyone?" Willow looked ready to bolt.

"You can use the training room," Buffy said. "You'll have some privacy there."

"And I'll be with you," Tara assured her. "We'll get through this together."

Willow smiled ever so slightly, her hand coming up to cover Tara's. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

"Lovely, but you don't have a minute."

Buffy spun to find Warren standing only feet away from her, a gun in his hand. "Did you really think I'd let you beat me, bitch?"

Even before she saw the flash from the muzzle, Buffy was reaching out to shove Willow and Tara out of the way. Heart pounding in her ears, she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder and started to fall, thrown off balance by the blow. She heard more shots and something wet splashed off her face, but then her head hit the sidewalk and all she knew was pain.

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