A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I had Arret beta this chapter for me, because I wasn't sure if I'd screwed it up or not. I finished it at 3-5am, in contrast to the days I spent staring stupidly at the screen wondering how the hell... enough rambling.

Ready? Set... Read.

"He's on the new drug," Lilah said, sitting down elegantly, with her legs folded, hands stroking the back of the leather couch.

"How long?"

"He'll be clawing off his own skin, within a week," she said, amused by the thought. "If not, someone else's."

"Damnit, Morgan! This isn't what our goal is!"

"Neither is charity," Lilah said, dropping the amusement. "He'll be so unstable that when we take him back, the medical staff will be grateful. We should never have let him into the system."

"And kept him where, in the dungeon?" her boss asked scathingly.

Lilah didn't reply. She'd rather keep him there, but any answer she gave would lead to a discussion about the goal of their drug experiments and how they needed stable test subjects to ensure that there were no adverse effects for their precious paying clients. They'd already received five million dollars from clients who wanted the pills first.

"Clients don't want the pills for themselves," Lilah said reasonably. "They want it for their recruits. Therefore, we test it by making a few of our own. We already know it works; it just needs a little tweaking. Why not continue with my plan, and we can rig it all up so our clients will get a lovely presentation. We can show them how far a little creativity goes."

"What's wrong?"

"What…?" Angel looked at Cordelia. "Nothing's wrong."

"Don't give me that. You look like you're lost in deep thought," Cordelia said, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

"I guess I was just… thinking about Fred," Angel answered.

"Why are you worried? She got her little boyfriend to come here, didn't she?"

"She might have gotten in over her head," Angel said. "And that vision you had, we still don't know what it meant."

"But by now it's probably already passed," Cordelia added. "You shouldn't worry about it. There was no chance of figuring that out."

"I guess not."

But nothing really changed between them; the conversation was proving futile. He was still far away, unreachable.

Cordelia let out a breath quietly, feeling her silly hopes dissolving, leaving an acid feeling in her chest. "Angel? You've been really distant ever since Buffy came to LA."

He felt a guilty vice tighten around his heart – his stupid, unbeating heart that made it impossible to be with any human.

"I'm sorry…"

"It's not just that," Cordelia stood up, now, on an angry rant to drown out her pain. "We don't do anything together. You barely talk to me. You don't treat me like… like a girlfriend should be treated! Buffy knows we're together, and she doesn't care. She's over you. She's dated other men," she stopped and shook her head, nothing but bitterness left. "But I wonder if you're still in love with her?"

"I'm always going to love her."

Cordelia made a noise of disgust and moved to leave, but Angel pulled one of those super-fast moves, cutting her off at the doorway.

"But I love you, too, Cordelia."

"That hardly matters, Angel," Cordelia told him. "She still has a part of you. I want all of you. I'm jealous and selfish, I know, but I can't bear knowing that you still think of her."

"I don't think of her," Angel pushed on the door to keep it shut, to keep Cordelia from escaping. "You're right, though. I did change when she came here. I'm sorry, but it's hard to have her around, not to mention-"

"TELL HER TO LEAVE!" Cordelia screamed at him. "If that whore is keeping you from moving on, you need to be away from her!"

"Buffy isn't the problem," Angel growled out. "I'd get over that. I have gotten over it. Buffy and I don't fit together realistically. When I was around her, I was off in a fairy tale land. But with you, it can be a real thing."

"Then why won't you kiss me anymore?" Cordelia asked.

Angel responded by pressing his lips to hers, giving her the kiss that she'd wanted. Cordelia gripped his arms, pulling him closer, but she couldn't break the emotionless feeling to it all. When he pulled away, she felt like she'd been cheated somehow.

"If it's not Buffy, than what is it?" Cordelia demanded.

"It was… the news she brought," Angel admitted, looking haunted. "That Spike was dead."

Cordelia watched him, but could no longer hold any pity for him. She couldn't keep doing this. It'd been months.

"Whether it's Buffy or Spike or little green demons, I don't know," Cordelia shook her head. "But I do know that I don't see the man I fell in love with anywhere. I think we should break up, Angel. It sounds harsh, but this… it isn't a relationship anymore. I'll still be your friend and all that crap, and if you ever decide to snap out of this, let me know. I just can't be with you when you're not even here."

"I'm sorry-" Angel's apology fell on deaf ears when Cordelia wrenched open the door and left, slamming it in her wake.

He groaned and thumped his head against the door, trying to make sense of himself. It wasn't just Spike… maybe he did still have feelings for Buffy, but he was reasonable enough to know it would never work out. He couldn't think of any good reason why he wasn't interested in her, other than that maybe he just didn't love her.

"Still nothing?" Buffy asked, accepting a cup of coffee from Dawn.

Willow sat in front of her laptop, still unable to access the GHS network. "Their database is well-armed, but I just need to figure out how they run things," Willow said, and Dawn offered her a cup of coffee as well. "Oh, thanks honey."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Buffy asked. "What do you need to figure out?"

"The layout of things. Like how the login name is written, for one," Willow answered. "Sometimes there's a name or a number system that can help me crack into the system. Anyway, just give me a few days and I'll be able to tell you all about your mystery man."

Dawn handed the last coffee to Kennedy and sat down next to her on the couch. "Just got off the party line, earlier. Word on the street is that Fred's got a guy coming over to the Hyperion."

"Oh, really?" Buffy blushed a bit, taken off-guard by the news. "I didn't know she'd accomplish that so soon."

"We're all going to go, right?" Kennedy asked.

"Oh, definitely," Dawn agreed, nodding her head. "I haven't been able to threaten anyone in at least a week."

"Uh, hello? You threatened to make my life a living hell only a few days ago," Buffy reminded her.

"Oh. So I did."

"Fred has a man?" Kennedy asked.

"Apparently they've been seeing each other a lot," Buffy filled her in. "For tutoring. She says he's hot but she isn't interested, so, um… I was thinking of bagging him before someone else does."

"You vixen!" Willow accused good-naturedly.

"Well, I'm not even sure," Buffy added. "I mean, this other guy that I saw… I need to wait and clear that up, I guess. And Fred also said that he was damaged a little, like someone shook his head too hard, or uh, slammed it off a wall."

"He's retarded?" Dawn made a puzzled face.

"No. No, I don't think so," Buffy said. "More like he lost his eyesight, and his memory. He's also shy, and that's hard to come across. A sizzling hot, nice guy who lacks confidence, and is single. That's how she described him."

"I don't know if I'd want a guy who lacked confidence," Dawn said.

"Oh, that's just a minor hang-up," Buffy assured her. "It doesn't really matter. I'm totally willing to make the first move. But my mystery man…"

"Can go on hold," Willow finished firmly. "At least for a couple of days. Just don't get too seriously involved with this other guy."

"I'd better go call Giles," Dawn realized, getting up again. "It sounds like everyone is going to be there, and he doesn't like to be excluded. Aren't we eager to scare the piss out of this guy?"

"We get a double-threat now," Kennedy said brightly. "We can tell him to stay away from Fred, and if he hurts Buffy, I hurt his ass with my boot."

"Or we'll beat him to death with a shovel," Willow grinned.

"You guys are brutal," Buffy made wide eyes. "But I can assure you, if he tried anything, he'd have a broken nose in an instant. Broken arm for serious offences."

"Should I call Xander, too?" Dawn questioned, already dialing Giles. "I'll call Xander."

...
"Hey guys," Xander greeted upon arrival, still dressed in his work clothes. About a dozen people were scattered round, none of which were unfamiliar to him. Apparently everyone was already at the hotel waiting for their mystery guest. "I just got out of work. Does it matter that I've got some dust on my pants?"

"No, I don't think so," Buffy answered, checking her watch. "Mm, Fred's supposed to be back soon anyways."

"Super," Xander set his coat down. "I've already worked up a speech about how actions have consequences."

"Ooh, I was working on 'no means no,'" Willow told him. "How about anyone else?"

"I'm just going to wish him luck," Lorne answered with a toast of his drink. With this group, he'll need it.

"We should not mention that Lorne is anything but human," Angel advised, feeling antsy.

"I'm going to tell him a creepy story about how I once knocked out a guy's teeth for looking at one of my old girlfriends," Kennedy said. "Creepy because it's true. I'd do it again for you, baby."

Willow gave a terrified smile. "…Yay?"

"Damn," Angel cursed. "I was going to go up that alley. I have a lot more experience there than you do."

"So, we'll both do it," Kennedy said. "But yours better not be punching, or about teeth. Tell him that you have the capabilities to have him hunted down and killed if he makes anyone cry. Or torture him. Play up the forces of darkness."

"Really, you're all finding this cruelly funny, aren't you?" Giles asked.

"What was your angle, Giles?" Cordelia questioned knowingly.

"Erm, I was going to very ominously warn him about the rest of you bloodthirsty barbarians."

"Rupert," Wesley whined, hurt. "That was my thing."

"Well you certainly never discussed it with me."

"Setting him on fire is my thing," Dawn warned them all. "Trademark Dawn."

"And beating him to death with a shovel is mine," Willow nodded. "Trademarked as well."

"We going to go around in a sharing circle or something?" Gunn asked critically.

"No, no," Xander shook his head, as if talking to a foolish amateur. "What you do is mingle, very casually. One at a time, you pull him aside for a brief one-on-one convo. The key is to sound a like a dead serious psychopath. Psyche him out."

"And have complete dominance," Kennedy added. "Don't give him a leg up on anything. Barely let him respond and then walk away."

"This guy is never going to go out with me after a dozen people all threaten him with grievous bodily harm," Buffy shook her head in disbelief and closed her eyes, smiling, more amused than upset.

"What are you doing outside?" Fred asked, wrapping her coat around herself. The street was cold this time of night, a blue haze of night stretched out to both ends of the street, only pushed back by street lamps. Galen was sitting on the library steps, dressed in casual clothes – a soft gray t-shirt that sort of clung to his lithe body and cargo pants that looked just as comfortable. His sneakers were nondescript, with Velcro.

He rubbed his palms on his pants when she came up to the steps. "I took a minute after Mary dropped me off," Galen explained. "Vancouver comes in handy. The librarian will never let out of those doors once I go inside, but if I never show up, she'll never think I was supposed to be here, anyway."

"How can you be so sure?" Fred asked, more apprehensive about someone finding out.

"I asked the others at the group home. Brenda calls to check in, but Mary never does. She's too busy policing the others."

"I guess it's true what they say," Fred grinned, giddy that they were finally going to get out somewhere. "Out of sight, out of mind."

Galen harrumphed a little. "Lucky for you, I'm, not that way."

"Lucky me. Here, let me help," she said, taking his hand while Galen stood up.

He held the crook of her arm and, with Vancouver on the leash, they crossed the street and headed out.

She guided him through the alley that she took, one she knew to be safe because it was adjacent to the Hyperion. After years of Angel being around, demons tended to avoid the area, or they ended up pulverized.

"It must get boring, living in a sterile environment all the time," Fred said, to break the silence. "We're, uh, anything but sterile. But not unclean, either. Just not obsessed with disinfectants."

Galen tugged on Vancouver's harness to signal him to stop. "Is there anything I ought to know before I go in there?"

"Well, there'll be a big crowd," Fred warned him. "Absolutely everyone wants to meet you. It's because I'm supposed to be shy and defenseless, I guess."

Galen let his eyes wander off in his haze, studying the unique contrast where Fred's dark shadow fell against the slick alley wall. His vision was getting better. He couldn't remember feeling so wonderful.

"How big of a crowd?"

"Maybe ten people?" Fred guessed sheepishly. "If that's too much, I could make them thin out and the others will meet you later."

"No, it's okay," Galen assured her. "That's about the size of my old group therapy sessions, so I'm used to it."

"Okay, then," Fred said, looking him up and down. "Let's go." She waited but he did not move, or signal Vancouver to walk.

"Galen…" Fred stepped closer to him, trying to study his face for signs of emotion. "You're not worried, are you?"

Galen sounded tense and breathy: "I haven't been outside, unsupervised… ever."

"It's alright, we're only right around the corner and then you'll be back inside," Fred promised. She took him by the hand, and he nearly crushed hers, giving it a hard squeeze.

Geez, Fred thought. I know he's afraid, but he's going to break my hand if he squeezes any harder.

"Are you just going to ignore me all night?" Cordelia whispered to Angel, sounding very much like a scorned lover.

"Cordelia," Angel sighed. "You broke up with me, remember?"

Cordelia look over at Buffy, who was talking to Xander and Willow. "I hope you're happy with her."

"We're not together."

"Well, I hope you're happier with someone," Cordelia huffed. "Because it's obvious it'll never be me. Only goes to show how naïve I was, thinking I was actually special. Almost… worthy."

"Are you sure you want to break up?" Angel questioned her.

"I'm totally positive," Cordelia said, folding her arms and looking self-assured.

"Okay," Angel watched her warily. "Because I don't really want you to leave, you know. I just need some time."

"It's been four goddamn years, Angel," Cordelia hissed at him. "When are you going to move on?"

"I know you may feel tempted to do things, but I just want you to know," Xander paused dramatically. "That actions always have consequences. And you need to be prepared to deal with those consequences. Punk."

"I like it," Kennedy appraised. "It's very… Clint Eastwood."

"You think it's intimidating enough?" Xander asked.

"Oh, yeah," Dawn said. "That, uh, potted plant is trembling from that intense no-monkey-business glare you were giving it."

"I just can't have this kind of monkey business in my city, ya no good pot head!"

"Calm down, Xan," Willow said, patting her friend on the shoulder.

"Guys," Buffy said, turning to face the doorway.

"They're here," Angel announced at the same time, standing up.

"Already?" Lorne asked, as the group started to collect, prepared to intimidate upon arrival.

Fred shoved the door open, holding it ajar. The dog appeared first, tan and black with sharp ears and a pink tongue that flopped out of its mouth. The dog was harnessed, attached to a leash held tightly by the owner.

It was the man that made Dawn gasp and her eyes widen.

"Buffy…" Willow whispered.

"Here we are," Fred announced unnecessarily. She frowned disapprovingly at the group of spectators that had formed. "Back off a little, guys?"

A breathless silence had fallen over the others; Dawn dug her nails into Buffy's shoulder, leaning closer in utter shock.

"Spike?"

Couver barked at the group, making a whimpering noise while his tail wagged fiercely.

"Shush," Galen scolded, and Vancouver fell silent except for his panting.

"Hi guys," Fred said to the others, who were trying to make sense of this. She remained oblivious to their shock, smiling as sweetly as ever with a hint of jittery excitement. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet my friend Galen. Galen, allow me to introduce you to all my friends. Angel, Buffy, Wesley, Gunn, Xander, Cordelia-"

Galen felt a rush of blood to his head as she droned on, his resolve melting into anxiety. New people is bad, bad, very, very…

"-Giles, Willow, Kennedy, Dawn, and last by certainly not least, Lorne…" Fred drew a deep breath and smiled at Galen, taking his hand again and unsurprised when he squeezed it tight, muscles trembling. "You didn't catch that, did you?" He shook his head no and she rubbed his shoulder. "It's all right. There's far too many of us. If any of you are mean to him, you'll have to deal with me later."

Gunn managed to chuckle at Fred's playfully stern tone, because he'd never met Spike, but the others could barely close their mouths.

It's him, Buffy thought fervently, her eyes etching every inch of 'Galen' into her mind. It really is Spike. I was so stupid! I should've known… I should've connected that the man I saw at the hospital was the one Fred was talking about. That Spike and Galen were just two names for the same man. He's still so beautiful…

But there was something terribly wrong about him, at the same time. He stood so rigidly, completely out of place and unsure of where he could move. His appearances had changed, brown hair replacing the bleach. His creature of the night look was completely transformed into the mundane, the average human.

She remembered Spike – loose and smoking, two fingers to the world, with a wicked mouth. She remembered him with defensive remarks and sharp, yet accurate observations that cut her emotionally. She remembered him with rumpled hair and avid child's eyes watching her every move. She remembered him with a resigned smile and his head on her shoulder while he slept.

Right now he reminded her of when she'd failed him, and the enemy had taken him. It took too long to rescue him, but somehow she knew he could hold on until she had the chance to save him.

Tied to the face of a rock with symbols carved into his chest, his face beaten and swollen. He hung limply, no longer wasting his strength trying to fight.

So weak and still holding on to hope, mumbling words of courage to himself, uncertain of anything until I cut him free.

She remembered that first touch, his hand heavy on her shoulder from the fatigue of his muscles, and the look in his eyes when he realized she was real. He'd cried when she helped him stagger out of there, as if somehow he'd worried she was never going to come back for him.

She couldn't begin to fathom why he was here, but she felt that same tug of urgency, a duty to go and cut him free. But… there were no bonds, no people to free him from. It made her eyes water with the frustration of not knowing. How is he here and who did this to him?

"Fred," Angel said tightly, walking slowly towards them. "Where did you find him?"

"In the library," Fred answered. "I told you that."

"You didn't tell us you found him," Angel said, his voice a strange, stifled mix of anger and betrayal.

"What do you mean?" Fred frowned, bristling at Angel's accusing tone.

"Never mind," Angel said. "S…" he looked down instead of saying Spike's name, and Couver's amber eyes looked back at him. "You have a beautiful dog."

"Thanks," Galen shifted a bit, uneasy. "I just got him. He was trained without me, so I'm not used to him guiding me yet. I rather think he ignores me half the time."

Angel listened carefully, searching for traces of his childe. The man's skin smelled like Spike's, but it was too faint and clean. Spike was always disastrously unclean, with layered scents of blood, alcohol, sex, and cigarettes. The scent was more than often on the edge of offensive, but Angelus had grown used to the familiar taste of whiskey and blood over the years.

None of those familiar scents were present, and it was confusing, but almost… nice, in a different way. The brown hair, shy disposition and clean, pure scent promised fresh starts. It reminded Angel of when he'd first met Drusilla's new pet and brought him home.

"I'm Angel," he said, looking for any reaction from the man. This… Galen didn't show any signs of familiarity.

"I own this hotel," he added when Galen didn't reply. "We use it to run Angel Investigations. It's a detective agency, of sorts."

"You spy on people?" Galen asked, almost interested.

"We help the helpless," Angel responded, hoping to provoke any response, but… nothing crossed the man's face. "Saving innocent lives has become something we stand for."

Angel only received a nod and then Fred gave him an apologetic look. "Let's go sit down," she suggested, pulling lightly at Galen's hand.

The laboratory of Wolfram and Hart had been turned into a temporary medical setup. Temporary had turned into semi-permanent, and a small division was being considered if they were to pursue this new drug interest.

"How goes it, boys?" Lilah Morgan asked, folding her arms and surveying all of the new little dweebs examining slides under microscopes. When they noticed her, there was a fluster of movement, hungry worker bees buzzing at the queen's approach. Power-hungry maggots.

"Ma'am," a skittish, eager-to-please type nodded his head at her. "We've been working on more of those pills. Th-there's a chemical instability-"

"Don't care," Lilah looked bored, and watched the workers underneath her heavy, painted eyelids for a moment. "I want something new."

"O-okay," a short one spoke.

"What's your flavor?" Knox spoke calmly, already used to the game.

"I want it to be bad," Lilah said. "I want it obscenely bad, and painful for him. Start throwing out ideas, boys."

One of the technicians twitched. "Uh, how about bursting blood vessels?"

"You're not thinking dark enough," Lilah chastised.

"I can have him puking up his guts," Knox said. "Literally. Extremely messy, with a slow, painful death. Encephalitis virus? Rabies? Or, I could thaw out one of our flesh-eating viruses. Would you like an epidemic or an isolated, freak medical incident?"

"You're going to be in trouble," Lindsey commented dryly, leaning in the doorway of the lab. "In fact, I'm sure the Senior Partners would send you straight to a hell dimension if you let this little… weasel unleash an unauthorized flesh-eating epidemic."

"I wasn't seriously considering it," Lilah replied, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Although I'd love to watch Angelus' childe die convulsing on the floor. Maybe even orchestrate it for Angel to arrive heroically at the last moment? Hm.… Later. Right now I need you nerds to start working on something specific."

"You name it," Knox said, withdrawing.

"Remember all those nice pills we used to make Puppy calm? I want Spike back."

"You want to make him aggressive again?" a nerd asked, fearfully remembering the ceaseless screaming of rage and pain. It never ended after they'd brought the guy back from hell. He couldn't imagine hell, but it must've been pretty bad.

"I want to make him more aggressive," Lilah corrected. "I want him to make the Hulk look like a pansy."

Lindsey snickered, "You want him green and the size of a truck?"

"I want him deadly," Lilah said, annoyed. "When we bring him in, I want pills to reverse whatever it is the first ones did."

"We can't bring his memory back," Knox informed her. "We can add testosterone, something to agitate…."

"Do whatever it takes," Lilah cut him off. "And get a hypnotic drug in our stock. I'm going to have him programmed while he's here."

Chatter filled the Hyperion lobby, where Fred, Gunn, and Lorne entertained Galen on the couch. Lorne related comical stories to the other three, but Galen found more interest when Gunn let him hold a few of the daggers from the weapons cabinet, not mentioning how many they actually had in the building.

In one of the backrooms, the others had gathered, seeking privacy to collect themselves.

"He doesn't recognize any of us," Angel said.

"Of course not," Cordelia muttered. "Freddie mentioned he was damaged goods."

"But you'd think he would still know us," Dawn said, almost pleading. "He's been with us for so long."

"He's lived for so long, we're only a brief phase in his life," Giles corrected. "And true amnesia is usually permanent. A feeling of familiarity and some memories could return, perhaps, but we can't treat him like we've known him all along. We're all perfect strangers to him."

"He's right," Angel agreed. "And since he can't see us, our chances of bringing back any memories is even slimmer."

"Assuming he had memories to begin with," Wesley interjected.

"I'm sorry I doubted you, Buffy," Willow whispered to her friend.

"He's alive," Buffy said, still shell-shocked. "That's all that matters."

"This guy isn't Spike," Xander said. "Not even memory-free Spike. I know he looks like Spike – hell, he even sounds like him – but it isn't. Spike was never so withdrawn."

"I think the lack of sociability is understandable," Giles objected.

"He might be human," Angel pointed out.

"Might be?" Buffy repeated. "You're a vampire, you tell me. Is he human?"

"I don't know, Buffy," Angel said. "He doesn't smell like Spike, but that doesn't mean much of anything."

"Well, was his heart beating or not?" Dawn asked, standing beside her sister, both wearing a demanding expression.

Angel took a breath and then simply shook his head. "Too many heartbeats around to tell."

"Let's go over what we know," Wesley proposed. "We know that Spike died in the hellmouth."

"You're starting too far ahead," Kennedy said. "And you're wrong; we don't know that. He could've ascended to Nirvana for all we know. No one saw him die."

"But he was on fire," Buffy pointed out softly. "Okay, we know that Spike had a chip in his head."

"And that he obtained a soul," Giles added. "Both of which added humanity to him."

"And the chip was causing a lot of brain damage," Dawn said. "So he had to get it removed. And who knows what else might have gone wrong when they were cutting his head open."

"But he was okay," Buffy said. "That didn't cause memory loss or any eye trouble."

Dawn wasn't convinced. "You don't know that, Buffy."

"The soul made him eligible for Shanshu," Angel continued. "The necklace I passed on to Buffy was probably meant for me… but both of us were eligible and he took it."

"So Spike might have gotten Shanshu," Wesley said. "That's one theory."

"He didn't seem right, in the final days," Buffy spoke to herself, trying to remember how Spike had acted. "When he was dying, he was so passive."

"We know that the hellmouth caved in," Xander said, "making Spikey's chances slim to none of survival, even as a vampire."

"We know he still would've gone to hell," Cordelia made a jump in theory. "And Willow's witch act brought Buffy back from the grave."

"The Urn of Osiris was destroyed," Willow objected. "There isn't any way that spell could have been used."

"Perhaps we should also brainstorm what we know about the young man sitting in our lobby?" Giles suggested.

"We don't know much about him," Buffy admitted in reply.

"Other than he's been seeing Fred, and according to her, he's terminally shy and brain damaged," Cordelia pointed out.

"Fred never met Spike," Xander said. "But Spike was never shy. This guy is obviously someone else entirely. Possibly even a sex bot. Spike is a dangerous, bad guy, and we should leave this alone. Who really wants Spike to come back? And by Spike, I mean the crazy psychopath who used to mass murder people."

"I don't know how to answer that. I'm still on "sex bot,"" Kennedy told him.

"It's not just a different alphabet," Fred informed Gunn. The other man had been belittling the difficulties that Galen had learning Braille, and Fred was getting miffed. "If it were, there would be no problem other than memorizing the characters. The challenge is learning a new alphabet, plus a whole new way of putting words together. Braille is not written out letter for letter, there's a lot of abbreviating."

"Did we step in on a debate?" Buffy asked, creeping around the couch.

"Oh… no," Fred said, embarrassed for a moment, then giving Gunn a defiant look. "I think I made my stance perfectly clear."

"Ouch," Gunn knew when to back off. "If it means that much to you, I'm sorry. Mad props for wanting to learn all that."

Galen nodded, but didn't say anything, because he knew that even though it was hard, he wasn't learning as well as he should be. Despite Fred's efforts, he could barely remember half of the letters she'd taught him, and he didn't have the heart to tell her he needed to slow down.

Buffy moved in to save Galen before Lorne starting talking about Elizabeth Taylor or someone.

"I'm Buffy," she said, settling on the opposite side of the couch when Gunn went to talk to Wesley. The others were still almost avoiding Galen, watching him from a distance and whispering to each other, but she ignored them.

"I'm Galen."

"I know," Buffy said, scratching her ear awkwardly. She was wishing that she could do more than just lame introductions, but what could she say to a perfect stranger? It was almost painful. "I actually saw you before, at Good Sam."

"Where?"

"The hospital," Buffy generalized quickly.

"I know that," Galen said. After all, he'd only lived there for half of his… not really his life. Surely he'd lived before the amnesia, but it was a black void with vague memories that could very well just be dreams. "I meant which part of the hospital. I've been there a lot of times before, in surgery…"

"For your eyes?" Buffy asked, the slight nod confirming that it should be obvious.

"Didn't help any," Galen added.

"I saw you on the ground floor, with your dog," Buffy told him. "But only for a second."

Good, Galen thought, almost sighing with relief. He'd been held up in the psychiatric ward far too many times. He was pathetic enough without being thought of as a lunatic as well.

They heard a gasp and Buffy looked over to see Angel supporting Cordelia, who was in the midst of a vision. "A church…" she whispered, lost in her premonition. "Something… in the shadows… it's hunting him…" her eyes focused again as the vision left her and she looked at Angel, her… She remembered he wasn't hers anymore and quickly shook off his touch. "There's a demon in a church," she said to him, lowering her voice even more so certain ears couldn't hear.

"What just happened?" Galen asked.

"Oh, she was on the phone," Buffy said quickly, feeling guilty for a moment that they could get away with most anything if they were quiet about it. "That was a new case. Angel doesn't kid around when he says he saves lives."

"Does he wear a swirly cape, too?" Galen asked, feeling comfortable enough to let a little cheekiness show.

Angel couldn't help but smile at the reference. "Guys," he whispered to Wesley and Gunn. "Could you handle this on your own? Please…?"

Wesley glanced over at Galen, who was warming up to Buffy while the other girls hovered nearby, curious yet silent. He nodded, knowing that Spike didn't matter as much to him as it did to the others. "Where is the location?"

"St. Peter," Cordelia's forehead scrunched, trying to think.

"St. Peter's Church, not too far from here," Giles said.

"Yeah, they've done this sort of thing before," Buffy assured Galen as Gunn discreetly collected weapons and walked past them. "It's not a big deal, really."

"It's kind of cool," Galen said uncertainly, detecting a shifting of the couch cushion beside him. "Freelance vigilantes. And, hey, I still have an eighth grade vocabulary. I'm on fire."

He heard a giggle behind him and leaned back his head, as he'd learned to face the sounds of people.

"Hi," Dawn said coyly, leaning over the back of the couch, smiling when he looked at her. "I'm Dawn."

"Another one," Galen said, amused.

"Your dog is really cool," Dawn told him, looking down where Vancouver laid at Galen's feet. "German Sheperds are an awesome breed. Can I pet him?"

"If it were another time, I'd let you play with him all you want," Galen said regretfully. "But I'll catch hell if I keep letting people pet him while he's in his harness. He's working right now. It'll spoil him or something."

"I understand," Dawn said, straightening up. "So why do you wear those glasses?"

"Because my doctor tells me to," Galen answered.

"Do you always do everything your doctor tells you to?"

Galen laughed and lowered his head, to save his neck from aching. "Not always."