lov "I've got you exactly where I want you now. Just give up, you scumbag piece of dung." Buffy's lips curled up into a snarl. Her opponent's eyes squinted as he contemplated his next move. A lone drop of sweat trickled down the smooth, dark face. The two enemies breathed as one with their eyes fixed to each others. Buffy's nemesis finally made his move.

"Hah. King me!"

Xander had won the game of Checkers.

The defeated party thrust out her lower lip, "I always win. I think you cheated, Xan."

Xander gave a big belly laugh, remembering why he loved her so. "No, I finally figured you out." The dark haired man adjusted his posture, leaning in toward her slightly. "Whenever you do this..." he squinted his left eye, "...you are about to jump me. When you do this..." he lifted his chin and tilted his head to the right scarcely, "...you are setting me up for a sacrificial jump. And when you..."

"All right, Freud. I get it. I'm transparent."

"Not so much transparent as translucent."

The couple laughed together as Giles meandered into the room. "Are you ready to train?"

Buffy sobered up a little. "I suppose. I'd probably rather have a rematch, though."

"She can't stand to lose."

"That's the Slayer in me." Her face became pseudo-serious and her voice deep, "I never lose." She and Xander resumed their mirth.

After a few more minutes of cajoling and giggling, Buffy retired to her training area. She was still a bit choked up whenever she entered the space that had been designed and built just for her. Sunlight bathed the room, specially illuminating the mannequin that "dummy man" had made for her with his own hands. The entire area exuded love and caring from those involved in its creation. The Slayer felt honored to have such friendship and support surrounding her.

Today was to be an interactive training with her Watcher. Normally she would go about 5-10 minutes and Giles would surrender, turning her loose on the various training items about the area. The Englishman could only take so much of a Slayer beating, even though she always held back somewhat.

20 minutes into the workout, Giles stopped her. "Come on with it, Buffy. You're not even trying!"

"Giles!" She exclaimed emphatically. "I am trying. I'm not even taking it easy on you like I normally have to. I just can't seem to get moving right. It feels like I'm getting the flu or something." The frustration was clearly evident on her sweaty face.

"Well, perhaps I have been pushing you too hard lately. Why don't you take tonight off and we'll work again tomorrow." He pushed the little paranoid voice back into his subconscious where it belonged. After all, not everything has to be a supernatural event. 'She's just been under a lot of pressure lately. Everybody needs a rest once in a while.'

But the Slayer is not just anybody.

"You may begin." Arguably the three most stressful words in the English language. Well, that and "Freeze, scum bag."

28 students simultaneously bowed their heads, picked up their pencils and embarked on the World History exam. 27 students studiously scribbled thorough answers to the complex questions. One student stared blankly at page 1. 'What is wrong with my brain?' Buffy thumped her forehead with the heel of her hand a few times. 'Willow worked so hard with me the last week. I had all this down solid!' Shuffling the pages in a panic, Buffy read and reread and read again each and every question. Before she knew it, the class period was over. The remaining 7 students packed up their belongings and turned in their tests on their way out the door. The blonde in seat 2, row 3 sat still in her chair, stunned.

"Miss Summers?"

No answer.

"Buffy?"

She slowly looked up from her stark white test. "I studied, I swear." She silently gathered up her own belongings, and leaving the blank test behind, shuffled her way home.

The streets were so busy and full of life. Although Buffy's mind was distracted with thoughts of her choking on the history test, she couldn't help but notice a homeless woman down the alley between Greagor's Drugs and the Leather Shoppe. Her clothes were characteristically torn and stained, framing a face full of grief, doubt and pain. This was not the first derelict that Buffy had seen. In fact, they tended to litter the sidewalks and alleys of downtown Sunnydale. It wasn't easy to keep a job and home in this town. Businesses tended to go belly-up easily; especially if an owner or higher-up bit the dust at the hand of some demon or other nasty.

But this old lady suddenly struck her as terribly pathetic. Buffy's tough exterior melted away, leaving tears to stream down her face. Before she knew it, she was on her hands and knees, next to the indigent, mumbling about unhappiness, injustice, fear, shattered dreams and the like, promising to make the world a safer and more fulfilling place. The old lady looked at the young woman, who obviously had a home and family from the looks of her clothes and jewelry. "Honey, you have to lay off the drugs..."

Buffy wiped her face with her sleeve, stood up, and dusted off her pants. Something was definitely wrong. Her memory sifted through the events of the last 24 hours, as a realization came to her. She was losing it. Losing what it meant to be the Slayer. First her strategy, then her strength and stamina, next her intelligence, and now her emotional control. There was only one place to go now.

By the time she had made her way to the Magic Box, she found that her legs would hardly carry her. She felt as if her body weighed upwards of 400 pounds. Each step was a struggle. Each moment she managed to get closer to her goal was an eternity. This had gone way past her original fear that her Slayer powers were fading.

The shoppe door could have been made of lead by the looks of the small blonde's struggle with it. She thanked the PTB that Giles was there to catch her as she toppled through the doorway.

"Buffy!"

The store owner fought to carry her to the back room alone as Anya had gone out to lunch. Buffy began to cry again as she noticed the customers staring and talking to their companions out the side of their mouths. "Stop staring at me!! I'm not a sideshow!" The older man was terrified.

Once the formerly unflappable Slayer was squared away and out of sight, Giles got on the phone to round up the troops. Buffy could hear the worry in his voice as he talked to Xander and then Willow. "It has to be something supernatural."

Willow was the first to arrive with Tara in tow. She knelt at the Slayer's side. The figure before her was a mere shadow of her former self. Her body had curled up into the fetal position and her eyes stared blankly at the opposite wall. She didn't even appear to know that Willow was there...until she meekly whispered, "help me."

"Tara," she called to the body shadowing her, "tell Giles she won't even look at me. She's catatonic." The red headed witch wore a mask of composure while her panic ate away at her gut like a rabid animal. She remained still, stroking the blonde hair.

Tara left to find Giles and update him on the Slayer's condition. She found him hidden behind a case of magickal herbs, explaining the situation to a very upset Xander. "So, I didn't really win that game of Checkers?"

"Xander. This goes way beyond a bloody child's game." The boy could not remember ever hearing Giles swear. "Buffy is quickly losing everything that makes her the Slayer. I have not been able to find any references to explain this. Perhaps..." Tara finally interrupted.

"She's gotten worse, Mr. Giles. She's staring blankly into no where and won't talk to us."

"Oh dear. This is bad." The two men hurried to her side, only to see Buffy exacly the way that Tara had described. Xander was just about to fall at the petite girl's feet when Giles' face and attitude changed. "All right! Let's get to work!" He ordered in his best military voice.

The three young friends jumped to their feet and scurried to the books. "What are we looking for?" "How the hell should I know, Xander?" Rupert rubbed the bridge of his nose, obviously not taking this well. Xander and Willow exchanged looks, then the latter scooted close to the former and whispered, "Just look for any incidents of a Slayer losing her power, or any other being losing their abilities for that matter." He nodded a little "thank-you" and opened his book.

The quartet had been searching for what seemed like hours, each taking turns on looking after their charge. It wasn't until Anya returned that progress was made.

The group summed up the situation and Anya's eyes showed an immediate glimmer of recognition. "Yeah. I've seen this before. In fact, I've done it a couple of times to men who cheated on their wives." A room full of eyes focused on her.

"Are you absolutely certain, Anya?"

"Yeah! It's a great way to exact vengeance since the only cure for it is to find a being who loves the subject."

Willow's eyes brightened. "Well, that's easy! There's at least three people in this room alone who love her!" The mood in the room definitely lightened, but then suddenly crashed into oblivion as the ex-demon continued. "No, I don't think it's that kind of love. I seem to recall that it has to be a true love kind of thing. You know, head over heels, completely unselfish, fathomless love...that kind. The entire idea behind the spell is there shouldn't be a person like that, now that he spurned her."

"Well, who would have done something like this?"

"I don't know, Xander. It could be anyone. From some evil power trying to get the Slayer out of the way, to...well...Riley."

They all, once again, stared at the ex-demon.

It was Giles who spoke first, breaking the silence. "Well, when we find this...person...what is it that needs to be done?"

"Actually, I never needed to know that. I was in the Vengeance business, not the Mercy business."

Rupert just sighed. "Help me find it, please." He tossed a book at her, then glanced over in Buffy's direction, the worry plastered across his face.

There wasn't a person in that store who did not secretly wonder if the cure was impossible, with Riley now gone. There was virtually no way to find and retrieve him. It could even be Riley that caused this. They collectively, and silently, mourned the loss of Buffy's anchor.