Author's Note: This chapter (and the next one) involves the use of illegal drugs. If that's likely to offend you, skip it, but either way please be aware that I'm not trying to make any kind of statement here. If I have an opinion on the matter, I don't intend for anyone to be able to identify it by reading my fiction.

And while I've got your attention, I just wanted to thank everyone for reading, and especially for the reviews. I started writing this story on a whim and I can't believe how much fun I'm having with it. You're a great community and your encouragement is very uplifting to a novice with delusions of grandeur.

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Xander knocked on the door of Riley's apartment. He had been there a few times before, but so much had changed since Riley was Buffy's boyfriend that he almost expected it to be vacant, Riley off living somewhere that nobody could find him.

"He's probably not here," said Anya. "He's probably doing Army stuff, or hanging out with his friends. He still has friends, doesn't he?"

But Riley answered the door, looking morose and a little shaggier than he used to be. He took a long look at Xander and Anya, hiding any surprise he felt at seeing them with military discipline, then said, "Come in."

Xander hadn't kept Riley at the top of his admiration list lately, but as soon as he saw the guy again he started to feel for him. The apartment, like Riley himself, was slightly unkempt, something Xander never would have expected of him in the past. After letting them in he leaned against a wall, crossing his arms, and waited for them to speak first.

Anya looked around briefly and dropped onto the loveseat, and Xander sat down next to her. "Where'd you go, dude?" he asked.

"Nowhere," said Riley, rubbing a hand through his hair. "I've been right here."

"Oh!" said Anya, as if something had finally clicked. "You've become a recluse! I read about that. You're too depressed to leave the house, so you stay in here all day and use the internet to get food delivered to you, don't you?"

Xander stepped in before Riley had to find a reply to that. "No, I think it's more likely that he leaves from time to time so he can shoot vampires with his gadgets and corner Daemonis before we do, thus proving he's the better man. Riley? Input?"

"Christ." Riley looked down at the floor, then sharply up at Xander. "Why are you on his side, Xander? Where did this come from?"

"Who?" Xander choked back a laugh. "Angel? Could you be any worse at reading this situation? I'm on Buffy's side. And call me crazy, but until you dropped off the radar, I thought you were too."

This elicited the reaction that Xander was hoping for: more anger. "Everything I do, I do for Buffy," Riley snapped. "Don't even think about acting like you know what's going on here."

Xander spread his hands. "No intentions of it. I have no clue what's going on here. Listen, buddy, here's the rundown on what's been happening since you let Angel chase you away with your tail between your legs. Willow figures out a spell to make Angel's soul stay put, but half of us don't know about it until yesterday. Now she's working on another one and won't tell anyone about it. In the meantime, a battle priest waltzes into our lives and reads everyone's minds, but gets all mysterious when we want to know what's on his. Daemonis has a scar, did you know that? And it means something! But don't ask me what, because all Father Tom has to say on the matter is 'I have to make some calls.'"

Riley started to reply, but Xander cut him off. "Wait, there's more! Buffy decides she's going to live at Angel's place, and doesn't seem to feel the need to explain why she thinks this is going to end any better than it did last time. Giles is probably the only one who could talk some sense into her, but for no reason that he sees fit to share with me, he hasn't said a thing. And then, to top it all off, we get attacked last night. Willow nearly gets killed, Oz turns into a wolf, and only then do they remember to tell us that Riley and the Initiative are hunting Daemonis-- alongside Spike of all people. So you know what? I'm getting pretty damned sick of not knowing what's going on here and I thought this might be a good place to start rectifying that."

Anya looked smug. She liked when Xander chewed people out. Riley just gaped at him for a moment, then said, "Buffy is living with Angel?"

"Wow," said Anya. "One track mind much?"

Xander rolled his eyes. "You weren't exactly around to stop it. You know? Maybe you could have. Or at least you could have messed up his face a little before you took off. Throw me a bone here."

"You think she'd talk to me?"

"I think that's what you're supposed to find out in the only way you can. But I'm still trying to get started on the finding out what's going on here. Can we talk about my pain for a second, Lovesick Emo Boy?"

Riley's eyes remained blank and glassy for a moment, and then he shook his head as if to clear it. "Fine. Yes, I've been hunting Daemonis, yes, I involved the Initiative, yes, I used Spike. I don't know why anyone would say I'm working alongside him, though. He gave me a good lead and I took it. And it sounds like Daemonis is finally starting to feel threatened, so I'm not sure why any of this is the wrong thing to do."

"Because he's feeling threatened enough to threaten us back," Xander said. "He found us last night. He knows us now. Probably thought we were with you. And I kind of hate to say it, but this all probably would have worked out better if we were."

"What," said Riley, "you want to join the Initiative?"

Anya looked from Xander to Riley. "What kind of uniforms would we have to wear?" she inquired.

"We're not joining the Initiative, Anya," Xander said. "We're just trying to cooperate with them." He addressed Riley again. "I'm pretty sure it's crossed your mind that we have the same goals here. I think you know we can help each other, even if it's just by staying out of each other's way. But you won't even pass the latest news on to us. You wouldn't even tell us you were still in the game. And I'm trying really hard to not look at your feelings for Buffy as some kind of motivation for this, but...didn't you just say a couple minutes ago that everything you do is for her?"

Riley was glowering. Xander didn't think it was even possible for him to completely let go of his civility, but he was definitely radiating strong 'you don't get it' vibes, and Xander didn't have a lot of patience for that. He was about to restate the accusation in more explicit terms, but Riley responded first. "You're right about one thing. We can help by staying out of each other's way." Then he unfolded an arm and made a placating gesture. "I don't know if anything I did put you in danger, but if it did, I'm sorry. From now on I'll warn you if there's anything I know about that you don't. But I'm just talking you and me, here, because I still have enough self-respect to not be taking orders from a vampire."

For some reason, Xander looked to Anya. What he wanted right now was one of her completely inappropriate remarks, something that would cut Riley to the core because it was so brutally honest and spoken with such nonchalance. The best part was that it was all due to Anya's ignorance of social norms, so nobody could ever really blame her for it. She was like his own personal force of nature. But now she just returned his glance and shrugged, waiting for him to finish up the conversation.

"You want to show your girl you can be everything to her," said Xander. "You want to kill her enemies for her and you want to do it before Angel does. I understand that. I understand that really, really well, actually." He stood up to go, Anya following suit. "But if you're going to insult her and her entire team to do it...maybe you should have just stuck to the flowers and chocolate."

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"Here."

Giles looked at the notebook that Willow had just placed into his hands. It was the plain green spiral kind that sold for a dollar apiece, but on the cover she had written 'Willow's Super Secret Magic Spellbook-- You Are Not Allowed to Read This!' in ballpoint pen. He glanced at her. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Read it, of course."

"Well it says here--"

"Read it." She yanked a chair out from the table and thumped into it, folding her arms on the table. It was still within business hours, and the store wasn't empty, but they seldom had trouble with eavesdroppers here, and he thought she was being a little too reluctant to talk. "Analyze it," she added. "Check my equations and cross-reference my sources and call your special hotline that reaches directly to Merlin. Do whatever it takes, just tell me I'm wrong."

Giles slowly sat down next to her, still examining the cover of the notebook though it told him nothing. "This is your secret project? All that work and now you want to be wrong about it?"

"It's too much. I don't do well with this much responsibility." She heaved a sigh of frustration. "Giles, the only reason I started studying this was out of curiosity. I thought it was interesting when I first noticed it and I wanted to be the one to be able to describe exactly why it wasn't possible. And then I just never got to that point. You have to help me. I can't just leave it like this."

"But you haven't actually cast anything yet?"

"Oh, no. Definitely not. I mean, unless the spell I cast on Angel counts, because that's the one that kicked this off. And I don't want to cast anything, that's what I'm telling you!"

He frowned. "I'm afraid I'm terribly confused about what you're telling me. Willow, if you don't want to cast a spell, don't do it. Do you really need me to tell you that?"

"You'll understand when you read it. I mean, maybe we can do that. Maybe we can just decide we're not going to cast it. But that decision would be a lot easier to make if it's impossible to cast it anyway, so can we just, you know, dwell in the realm of impossibility?" Willow gave him an imploring look, one that asked for support without comprehension, and he made the internal choice to give it.

He was saved from further baffling discussion by Father Tom's entrance. Giles inconspicuously slipped Willow's notebook beneath another book before the priest could see the cover, and Willow flashed him a grateful smile. She turned to Father Tom as he sat down with them. "Hi! How goes the life of slayin' and prayin'?"

Father Tom gave a good-natured chuckle and then paused with his chin in his hand. Giles suspected that he was trying to make up his mind about whether he wanted to speak openly in front of both of them. There was too much of that going around, Giles thought. Too many secrets, not enough cooperation.

"You're right," said Father Tom suddenly, and Giles nearly cursed out loud. He had actually forgotten that he was dealing with a mind reader. How stupid could he be?

"Oh, not stupid at all," the priest replied. "People do it all the time. It's not part of anyone's nature to guard their thoughts. Unfortunately, it's not part of mine to speak openly. But there's little reason for this to be secret anyway." He smiled disarmingly at Willow. "Let's cooperate."

Willow, who of course didn't know what had brought that little speech on, replied simply, "Sure, let's do that."

"Daemonis has been poisoned." He paused to let that sink in, then continued. "I wasn't able to speak directly with the one who accomplished it, but I did learn that she is one Sister Florence, of a Franciscan convent in Michigan. Very devout, but not completely in touch with the world outside her community, so she didn't think to send word to the rest of us. I learned a bit about the compound she used, but mystical poisons are not my area of expertise." He took a small folded piece of paper and handed it to Giles. "See if you can make anything of this?"

Giles took a look at the note. It had a Latin name for the poison, and a short list of effects it was supposed to have on vampires. "Shouldn't be difficult," he said. "Rather a relief to have something substantial to be able to look up, for once."

Father Tom stood up. "Right, my thoughts exactly. Unfortunately I can't stay. This diocese seems to be woefully short of members of my order, and whenever one of us ends up here there's a thousand tasks they have for us." He seemed about to leave it at that, but then he hesitated and spoke reluctantly to Willow. "My child...I can't see the details of this spell you have in mind, and I don't intend to look any closer. You're remarkably good at maintaining mental privacy. But if it frightens you, then it frightens me too, and all the more so if it involves the human soul. Please handle these choices with care."

Giles expected her to be offended at that, but as soon as Father Tom left the store, she turned to him and slapped her hands down on the table. "See?" she said. "Totally have my reasons for freaking out here!"

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Dingoes Ate My Baby had broken up after Oz panicked and took off on his solo travels, and hadn't reunited when he returned. Most everyone counted it a loss, but Oz himself seemed to take it in stride, and he had a variety of musician friends who were happy to jam with him at any time or place. At the moment he and two other guys were gathered in the space on the porch that they had chosen as a stage, strumming away at their respective instruments and singing a few lines at a time before suddenly stopping altogether and starting up an entirely different song. They had drawn a small crowd, most of whom were yelling at them to play something straight through so they could dance.

Paper lanterns decorated the yard. A couple card tables had been set up to hold chips and dip and a vast amount of cookies. There was a keg, but Buffy had opted for soda. She was sitting with it on a chair near the porch, watching the festivities and trying to smile. The party wasn't for any specific occasion, just something that the new residents of Buffy's former home decided would be fun. She had her suspicions that it was, at least in part, for her benefit. And that made sense, didn't it? They wanted to cheer her up, they wanted to bring life back to some level of normality. Parties were good. Buffy liked parties. So why was she feeling so out of place at this one?

The absence of her mother was resonating throughout her whole being-- this would have been about the time that Mom started up negotiations about how loud the music could be-- but it was more than that. Ever since she had been captured, everything was different: herself, her friends, her whole life. Bringing it back to music and parties felt like pretending, and Buffy wondered who they thought they were trying to fool. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves, though. Buffy would have given anything to just have that carefree feeling back.

The music stopped again, and Buffy looked up to see Oz handing his guitar to another aspiring musician. He met her eyes and walked over, taking the seat next to her. It was actually a bit surprising that she had been left alone even for these few minutes; her friends seemed to have it planned out that one of them was always chatting with her, asking if she needed anything, or just being nearby. She smiled wanly and greeted Oz. She did appreciate it. And it was likely that he was getting the cheer-you-up-by-force treatment as much as she was. Days had passed since his unwitting return to lycanthropy, and hardly anyone had even spoken about it; they were all so busy with one thing or another.

After he returned the greeting he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a plastic sandwich bag, which appeared to hold a handful of gummi candies. "I know this isn't really your thing," he said quietly, "but sometimes it helps me when I've got too much on my mind-- things seem to be conspiring that way lately-- and I can tell you're having a rough time of it tonight. Just a thought. If you want some."

Buffy blinked and looked closer at the candies. They were still candies, but she understood. Oz was right, it wasn't her thing. Still... "Would it make me publicly embarrass myself?"

"Probably not, but we'll be keeping an eye on you." He plucked a couple of the candies from the bag and popped them into his mouth. "And it's from a safe source. No long term effects."

She looked around the party again and realized she didn't want to be there. Well, there was more than one way to get out and dammit, wasn't it worth a try at least once? "How many should I have?"

"Not more than three," he said, handing her the bag.

She opened it and put three into her mouth at once. Noting a slightly impressed look on Oz's face, she explained, "High physical tolerance. Slayer. Might not even feel a smaller dosage." The gummies tasted like gummies, but they stuck to her teeth and she worked her mouth to get them down. "Actually I have no idea. But it seems likely."

He nodded. "It'll be a little while before it takes effect. Let me know how you feel." That was calming. Oz was calm. Oz was cool.

Twenty minutes later she was threatening his life.