VII  Fondness and Farewells

Nicholas Graydon looked around him at what was left of the piece of forest where the battle had occurred. At best, tonight was a no-score draw.

"I think we're finished with the mind-link, Professor," he projected.

"Are you certain, Nicholas? Jean's connection was cut off very suddenly," came the telepathic reply.

"Hank's giving her a once-over now, but she's still alive," Nicholas thought back, "We should be back at the shop pretty soon."

"Very well then, you can fill me in on the details on your arrival," the Professor acquiesced.

Nicholas felt the link that the Professor had established earlier in the evening fade away.

"I really need a drink," he mumbled quietly. He was rather surprised to see a silver flask stuck in front of his face. His eyes followed the black sleeve to Spike's face, and he raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Bourbon," Spike said, guessing the question.

"Thanks," Nicholas said, taking the offered flask and drinking deep. "Oh yeah, that's the ticket," he stated, handing the flask back to it's owner.

Everyone else had gathered around those who were injured. Fortunately, that number was much lower than it could have been. Having already checked out Ororo, Hank had turned his attentions to Jean.

"I'm not entirely sure," he was telling Scott and Buffy, "But it looks like she suffered some sort of psychic overload."

"It was weird," Buffy said, "Did anyone else see her…glowing?"

"I saw that," piped up Willow, "It was like her aura suddenly went all steroidy or something."

"Is she going to be alright, Hank?" an anxious Scott asked.

"I suspect she'll be fine, fearless leader," Hank replied, "Right now, she just needs some rest."

"I think most of us do," commented Buffy. Turning towards the group as a whole she continued: "Why don't we get out of here. Casa de' Summers has plenty of room for us to recoup."

"If you drop me off at the shop," Nicholas spoke up, "I'll pick up the Professor and Dawn."

"What about our captive," asked Alexis.

"Essex is nothing if not thorough," Nicholas replied, "I suspect he's already gone."

"Essex," Alexis muttered as they prepared to make their way back to the van, "What he did to himself."

"Disturbing, isn't it," commented Hank, carrying an unconscious Ororo, "And he claims that he's a man of science."

"I'd call it sinister…" said Alexis, absent-mindedly scratching Pangor behind the ears, "At least, that's how he looked to me."

*****

As the group made their way through the woods, they were being watched. After they had walked away, Essex stepped out from behind the brush.

"Sinister," Essex said, extending the "s" sounds. "I like it, Ms. Vanadis."

He watched Nicholas Graydon with particular fascination. The man was nothing. To be completely honest with himself, Essex had to consider him less than nothing. And yet, this under-evolved insect had managed to track him across the country, and had almost succeeded in disrupting a very carefully laid plan, with the help of Xavier's children and the Slayer's acolytes.

"We will meet again, detective," he promised, as the smoke once again rose to claim him.

*****

The group had arrived at the van, and loaded Jean and Ororo in. Suddenly, Buffy noticed something. Something she probably would have noticed a lot sooner if not for the all out war that she had been involved in.

"Uhm, Hank?" she asked, "Before we get back, I think you'd better do something about that."

"About what?" Hank asked, turning to look at her.

Buffy, Rogue, Willow, Anya, and Alexis (by way of Pangor), all looked at him, smiling. Tara turned her head, blushing.

"Woof," said Alexis.

"Absolutely," added Anya.

"Oh, yeah," commented Buffy, "Definitely nothing to be ashamed of. But I really don't want Dawn to…"

"Oh, my…" muttered Hank, suddenly aware that when Essex had experimented on him, the transformation had completely destroyed his clothing.

"Stars and garters?" asked Spencer, tossing Hank a blanket from the back of the van. The embarrassed genius quickly wrapped it around his waist, sighing.

"…something like that, yes…" Hank mumbled, "The addition of a fur pelt to my physiology must have prevented me from feeling the draft…although how I missed this, I am not at all sure…"

"Ro's gonna be sorry she missed it," teased Rogue.

"The things you see when your camera's in the shop," commented Nicholas, patting Hank on the shoulder. If one looked closely, a faint red tinge could be seen beneath the blue fur.

As they climbed into the van, squeezing the last few members of the party in, Spike started paying particular attention to Scott Summers. He sat, watching the way that Scott held on to Jean's hand, not paying attention to any of the good natured bantering going on around them.

What the hell is this? Spike thought to himself, I'm feeling empathy for someone that could give the grand Poof a run for his title.

Deny it as he would, however, the feeling was there. He knew all too well the look on Scott Summers' face, the love he felt for his lady. And it certainly wasn't his fault that Spike's own love was not returned the way Jean returned Scott's. He leaned over towards the concerned lover.

"Hey, mate," he started, "You want I should grab some stuff for the lady from the shop?"

Scott turned and looked at him, and Spike couldn't really read the expression on his face due to the visor covering his eyes. That's gotta suck, the vampire thought to himself, never really being able to let her see into his soul.

"I'd appreciate that," Scott said, "We all should have bags of some form there."

"No problem," Spike said, waiving his hand, "Looks to me like you've got enough on your mind," he added quietly.

"You might want to grab my rental," Scott added, "All the stuff we unloaded from the van earlier could take up a lot of space. The key's are in my jacket pocket." He turned back to his silent vigil.

Buffy and Angel watched the exchange, not saying anything. Each was lost in their individual thoughts on Spike. What he was, and what he had become.

*****

"I've got to ask you something," Nicholas spoke out of nowhere.

He and Spike had been dropped off about two blocks from the shop. They didn't mind the walk, and it allowed the others to get to the Summers residence that much quicker.

"What?"

"Are you Blud Villhelm?"

Spike stopped walking, causing Nicholas to pass him up. The detective turned to look at the vampire. Spike in turn had a look of absolute amazement on his face.

"How…" Spike started, "How did you know about that?"

"Does the name Sergeant William Graydon ring a bell?" Nicholas asked.

Spike took a new look at Nicholas, comparing the features to a man he had last seen in the trenches of Germany at the end of World War II. Then he saw it, in the eyes, and the shape of the cheekbones.

"Cor," he muttered, "You're Billy's grandkid, aint'cha?"

"And damn proud of it," Nicholas confirmed. "Grandpa told me about getting captured by the Jerrys, and how you and he got out. He also told me of the stories the Germans would tell about Blud Villhelm, and how he only fed on those who followed the party lines."

"Well, yeah," commented Spike as they continued towards the shop, "I mean, the majority of those folks just kinda did as they were told, to survive."

"Why?" Nicholas asked.

"Why what?" Spike countered.

"Why only the Nazis?" Nicholas clarified.

Spike stopped again, thinking. This time, Nicholas wasn't taken by surprise and stopped with him.

"Y'know, the Slayer asked me something like that once," Spike said, "She asked me why I was willing to betray Angelis, and I told her that I didn't want the world sucked into Hell. I liked it the way it was." He paused for a minute, collecting his thoughts.

"It was the same with Hitler," he continued, "I may be a monster, but even before the chip, I knew that I had my place in the natural order of things. Hitler's plans for this world didn't leave a whole lot of room for that. Once he started roundin' up the gypsies, that was real clear. It was war. War changes things."

"So you took the fight to them, dressed like a British soldier," Nicholas finished. "You still got the lighter?"

Spike pulled his beaten old Zippo from his jean pocket.

"Never leave the crypt without it," he said smiling.

"Bill will be glad to hear that," Nicholas replied.

"He's still alive?" Spike asked.

"Eighty nine and still kicking," Nicholas said.

"Good for him. Tell him I still got his lighter, and I'm still using it."

That was when they heard the scream.

"Dawn," they said simultaneously, breaking into a run.

*****

As soon as Buffy had unlocked the door and let everyone in, the scene resembled some bizarre form of controlled chaos.

Ororo had started to revive on the trip to the house, and was now being supported on both sides by Remy and Rogue. The latter now wore the Cajun's trench-coat, which he had graciously offered as soon as they had headed towards the van. At Buffy's direction, they headed towards the Slayer's bedroom, intending to let Ororo get some rest.

Scott carried Jean in and headed straight for the living room couch with her, Hank directly behind him. Once he had determined that Jean was in no need of immediate attention, Hank asked Buffy about some first aid supplies, which she retrieved from the kitchen.

Alexis and Giles had already set up shop in the kitchen, and were pulling together sandwich makings and similar foodstuffs. A pot of coffee was going, and the aroma quickly found it's way around the house.

Cordelia reached into Angel's breast pocket and retrieved his cell phone.

"Going to check the messages," she informed him, heading towards the back porch in order to maximize the quiet.

Buffy had returned with the first aid supplies, and sent Willow, Xander, Anya, and Tara off to find every spare blanket and pillow they could scrounge up.

"Looks like we're going to have a crew here tonight," she told them.

Hank and Spencer cleared off the dining room table, and Hank immediately started calling everyone in one at a time to check on any minor injuries that had been suffered. It seemed that all of them had come out mostly for the best, but there were a number of potentially dangerous gashes to be delt with.

"Remind me to get your brother in here to get a look at his ribs," Hank told Spencer at one point. Spencer in turn began snorting.

"Yeah, that's really going to happen," he chuckled.

"Trust me, my friend," Hank replied, finishing a bandage on Gunn's shoulder, "I can be very persuasive."

All the bedding that could possibly be had was now deposited in one corner of the living room, and the furniture had been moved aside to clear as much room as possible. Scott hadn't moved from Jean's side the entire time. He would occasionally offer some perspective if asked a question, but aside from that, Jean's condition held the whole of his attention.

Cordelia came back into the house, and quickly found the rest of the Angel Investigations crew.

"We've got a message from Lorne," she told them, "I couldn't tell exactly what it was, something about a demon suddenly appearing onstage at Caritas. Which doesn't sound that unusual to me, but he was freaked. Said we need to get back as soon as we can."

"We don't have a car here," Wesley reminded her, "And we won't be able to get one for several hours yet."

"Take mine," Scott spoke up.

"Beg pardon?" Wesley asked.

"Spike's brining it back from the Magic Box, and we don't need it any longer. Take it to get back to LA, and drop it off for me." He never took his eyes from Jean's face while he talked, but the tone of his voice was strong and certain. He'd obviously thought about this while they discussed the message, and come to a conclusion. He was thinking about the others, even while he was worried about his lady.

This man is going to make one hell of a leader, someday, Angel thought to himself. Out loud he asked: "You sure?"

Scott looked up this time.

"Absolutely, I think that Spencer will give us a lift back to the Blackbird," he commented. Spencer gave him thumbs up from the other side of the room.

Angel looked across the room to Buffy, who simply smiled at him.

"Go," she said, "You're a champion, remember? Sometime that means being where you're needed instead of where you're wanted."

*****

Professor Charles Xavier was quite helpless in this situation.

Their captive had managed to free himself, and now was using Dawn as a hostage. Xavier couldn't use his mental abilities on the oriental, for fear of the results. He was, however, able to keep enough control of his mind to keep Sung's power from striking offensively.

"I am impressed, Professor," the oriental said, "The amount of control it must take to lock down your mind so that I can't affect it."

"Let me go!" Dawn cried out, held by her neck in the crook of the man's arm. "I'm warning you…"

"What?" asked Sung, "Do you intend to whine me to death?"

At that point, the front door to the shop was flung open, revealing a very upset Nicholas Graydon.

"I'll do a lot worse that whine," Nicholas said clearly, raising one of his pistols to eye level. "Dawn, don't move."

Sung knew that Nicholas would probably make the shot, so he started raising Dawn up in front of his face as a shield when he was spun around from behind. Spike was staring at him, full game face on.

"Bad idea," the vampire muttered.

"Chip, remember?" asked Sung, throwing a punch with his free hand.

"Mutant, remember?" replied Spike, grabbing Sung's fist and starting to squeeze. "Oh, that's right. You were out of that little conversation." He suddenly reached forward with his other hand, grabbing Dawn and pulling her out of Sung's grasp.

"Go limp, bit," he commanded. Throwing her out of harms way, he shouted out, "Nick, catch!"

"…you sunnuva…" Nicholas muttered, holstering his weapon and running to catch the now screaming Dawn. He launched himself over the railing that surrounded the depressed center of the shop, grabbing her as she flew towards the bookshelves.

Dawn instinctively wrapped herself around Nicholas as they met, allowing him to curl up and take the brunt of the landing himself. As they rolled to a stop near the Professor's wheelchair, he let out the breath he'd been holding. He had ended up on his back, with Dawn on top of him.

"Come here often?" he smiled at her.

"Nice catch," Xavier commented as Dawn blushed.

"I thought so," replied Nicholas, gently moving Dawn so he could get back to his feet.

He stood up just in time to see the oriental go flying through the shop, landing in front of the door.

Sung was an intelligent man, and as such, realized his chances of winning this battle were non-existent. He ran out the open door and into the night.

"One more shot to the ribs and I'm calling it a night…" Nicholas muttered, leaning against the railing.

Spike came running over to Dawn, kneeling down to grab her shoulders and look in her eyes.

"You all right, nibblet?" he asked.

Dawn looked into Spike's eyes and didn't say anything. Instead she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight.

"Thank you…" she whispered.

"Anytime," he whispered back.

*****

As the two vehicles pulled up to 1630 Revello, noise could be heard from within. On the porch, the crew of Angel Investigations was saying their goodbyes.

Angel had just finished hugging Buffy and was exiting the house. As he turned from the door, he found himself face to face with Spike, who was carrying the luggage from the car.

"Spike."

"Poofter."

"Keep an eye on Dawnie."

"Of course."

"Good."

And that was it. Cordelia meanwhile was chatting amicably with Alexis.

"So you know Lorne from way back?" she asked.

"Well, when he first opened the club, we ran into each other. The rest is history," Alexis told her.

Cordelia reached over and scratched Pangor behind the ears, a gesture the Norwegian Forrest had no difficulty accepting.

"You end up back in LA, we'll go for drinks, right?"

"You got it," Alexis responded, she reached out and gave the young seer a tight hug.

"See a doctor about something to help with the headaches," she whispered, "And take care of yourself."

"I always do," Cordelia replied, smiling. Then she made her way to the bottom of the steps, joining Angel, Gunn and Wesley in saying farewell to Nicholas, Xavier, and Dawn.

"…so Scott suggested we take his rental back to LA, beat the sunrise." Gunn was explaining. "Not sure exactly what it is Lorne needs, but the message sounded urgent."

"Makes sense," Nicholas said, shaking hands with the demon-hunter. "You guys take it easy."

"You know it," replied Gunn, heading towards the car.

"Wesley, I have the crystal right here…" Professor Xavier started.

"Keep it, Professor," Wesley replied. "I have Hank's email address, I'll forward the spoken components of the spell to him. I think the spyglass will do you more good than it will us."

Xavier shook hands with the ex-watcher, replying: "I'll put it to good use, my friend."

Having said goodbye to Dawn, Angel was the last to climb in the car. Gunn started up the engine, and pulled into the street, honking the horn twice in final farewell.

As Nicholas worked the Professor's wheelchair up the stairs to the porch, Xander, Anya, Willow and Tara came through the door.

"Looks like we'd just be in the way here," Xander commented, jumping down the stairs to assist Nicholas "We're going to head home for the night, catch up with everyone over donuts in the morning."

"Besides, that way we can have sex to work off the adrenaline from all the fighting," Anya added.

No one replied to this, although several looked as though their brains had just short-circuited.

"…did not need to know that…" whispered Dawn.

"Uh, yeah, well," picked up Willow, "Goodnight everybody!"

And the Scoobie gang made their way down the porch steps and into the night.

Finally, the last members of the nights work made their way into the house.

Nicholas reached into one of his pockets, and pulled out an immense pair of spandex bicycle shorts. He gratefully accepted the cup of coffee that Giles offered him upon his entry to the house.

"Stopped at Goodwill on the way back," he told the Watcher.

"They were open?" he asked.

"Not exactly," he admitted. In answer to the look that Alexis shot him he added, "I left them money on the counter and locked the door behind me. Hey, Hank! Catch!" He tossed the oversized garment towards the startled scientist.

As Hank caught the pair of shorts with one hand, he held his blanket up with the other.

"Oh, yes," he commented, eyeing the garment suspiciously, "Much easier to deal with."

Dawn meanwhile, had gotten her first look at Henry McCoy, and stood, staring, her mouth dropped open.

"Dawn?" asked Buffy.

Dawn didn't say a word. She simply turned and ran up the stairs as fast as she could.

Buffy turned towards Hank, a look of apology written on her face.

"I'll go talk…" she started.

"No, it's alright," Hank sighed. "I'd better get used to…"

They were interrupted by a shriek of pure teenage delight, followed by the triumphant shout of "That is so cool!"

The sound of returning footsteps came pounding down the stairs, and Dawn burst back into the room grinning. She looked around until she spotted Hank, and immediately ran over to him.

"HiI'mDawn," she said, "Sorrytorunofflikethat, butIhadtofindHenrytobesureandthisisjusttoofreakybutcoolyouknow?"

"Dawn," Buffy said, "Breathe. Oxygen good, remember?"

Hank meanwhile, was simultaneously attempting to re-secure his blanket, translate the gibberish Dawn was speaking into English, and get some idea of what was happening. The first was accomplished quite readily; particularly in light of the practice he'd had in the last hour. The second and third however, seemed a bit more vexing.

"Okay," Dawn sighed, "When I was a little girl, my mom used to tell me these stories, right? All about Henry, a monster that lived under my bed. He was a good monster, though. He took care of little girls, and they had great adventures."

Buffy had an idea where this was heading.

"Dawn, do you mean..?"

"Yup!" Dawn announced. She held the object she'd retrieved from her room up like a trophy. "Mom made this years ago," she announced, "Henry, my under the bed monster."

"Oh, my stars and garters…" whispered Hank. The doll was a dead ringer for him in his current state. Slightly exaggerated in the facial features, but nonetheless, very recognizable as one Henry McCoy, PhD and furry mutant. Dawn held the toy out to him, and he took it gently. "That's remarkable."

"Not quite anatomically correct, however," Alexis whispered to Nicholas, causing the later to choke on his coffee.

"Looks to me like you've found your calling, Hank," came a weak voice from the couch.

"Jean!" Scott said, turning back towards the redhead. Like the others, his attention had been captured by Dawn's shriek, and the amazing similarities between Hank and the stuffed doll.

"Alive and kicking, love," Jean said softly. "Although, I think a tango is doubtful."

"Jean," Scott started, "What…"

"Not now, Scott," Jean replied. "Later."

Scott took her at her word and asked no more questions.

*****

Charles Xavier was reading a copy of Thomas Costain's 'Below the Salt' that had been sitting on the bedside table. Everyone had agreed that Joyce's old bedroom would be best for him. It was the largest, and actually had enough room for him to maneuver his wheelchair to the side of the bed. Getting him upstairs had been an interesting challenge, however. Hank, resplendent in his new spandex shorts, had finally whisked the Professor up out of his chair and carried him up the stairs. Nicholas and Spencer followed with his chair.

Xavier looked up as a soft tapping came at the door.

"Yes?" he answered.

"Professor," came Buffy's voice, "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course, Buffy," he replied, adjusting himself into a sitting position, "Come in."

The young Slayer entered the room, and at Xavier's prompting, took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Costain, huh?" she asked.

"Yes, I've always enjoyed his work." Xavier told her.

"So did Mom," Buffy said, "I think there's probably a dozen or so in the basement. She liked to read."

There was silence for a moment, Buffy lost in her thoughts, and Xavier not wanting to interrupt.

"I only met your mother once," Xavier said finally, "But I do wish I had gotten to know her better. She seemed to be so very full of life. And she really seemed devoted to Scott."

"She was like that," Buffy answered, "She always worried about family more than herself. I think…" she hesitated a moment, deciding her words, "I think that's why I want to talk to you. I need you to do a favor for me."

"If I can, I will," Xavier told her earnestly.

"I need you to make sure that Scott doesn't try to stay here and help us against Glory."

This statement took Xavier aback. The situation with Glorificus was potentially the most dangerous that the Slayer had ever faced.

"Are you saying that you don't want our help?" he asked.

"No!" she responded quickly, "I want you all to stay, but I can't let you."

"I'm afraid you've lost me, Buffy."

Buffy sighed, and raised her knees up to rest her chin on.

"Glory's going to come back," she said, "And sooner or later she's going to figure out that Dawn's the Key. When she does, we may have to make a run for it, and small groups hide better than large ones."

Xavier mulled this over for a moment before responding.

"We could take Dawn back to Westchester with us. And you as well," he offered.

"Already thought about that one, Prof.," she responded. "If Dawn disappears, that'll probably be the last piece Glory needs to put the puzzle together. If she disappears with Scott, then she'll not only figure out that Dawn's the Key, but where she went. You run a school, Professor, and schools have lots of children in attendance. Mutants or not, I don't like the thought of them going up against someone like Glory." She held up her hand, indicating that she knew the next line of thought the Professor was going to present. "I know, the X-Men are there too. But the X-Men already have a mission. They have to guard the rest of us from mutants like Magneto. I watch the news, Professor, and I've seen glimpses of Scott and the others from time to time, now that I know what I was seeing. Glory would wait until something like Ellis Island happened, drawing the team away. Then she'd take the school."

Xavier let this line of logic settle into his mind. Buffy had a point, there were already weaknesses in the schools security system that would have to be dealt with. Add to that, a being of Glory's sheer power and cunning, and the situation could be deadly. And the children, he could not risk their lives.

"Very well, Buffy," he sighed, "I don't like leaving you and Dawn in a situation such as this, but you bring up some very good points. And I can trust the group that you have to support you. I've seen that. I'll agree on one condition."

"What's that?"

"If you need us, you call," the Professor looked her straight in the eyes. "I mean it, Buffy. No unnecessary heroics. If there is any indication that you're going to face Glory directly, contact us immediately. I've lost far to much family already, as has Scott."

Buffy leaned over and hugged Xavier.

"I will," she said.

*****

Buffy closed the door gently behind her after wishing the Professor a good night. She hated the decision that she had made, but saw no way around it. Glory might not be the quickest on the uptake, but she wasn't entirely stupid either.

Having given her own room up to Jean and Scott, she stopped at Dawn's door before heading downstairs. Hank had promised to tuck her in, on the condition that she told him one of the stories of Henry, the Under the Bed Monster.

Quietly pushing the door open, she heard the sound of Dawn's quiet breathing before she saw anything. As her eyes adjusted to the moonlight, she saw Hank stretched out on the bed with a very soundly sleeping Dawn curled up against him. She had maneuvered herself so that she was wrapped completely around one of his massive arms.

 Hank opened his eyes, and seeing Buffy in the doorway, gestured with his free hand for her to come around to the other side of the bed. The chair that he had originally sat on was there, and she pulled it up close so they could whisper.

"How long has she been like that?" she asked.

"Almost immediately after she talked me into laying here," he answered. "Pity, I only got to hear about a third of the story." Buffy grinned at that.

"I'm sure you'll hear the rest later," she assured him. "You okay here?"

"I'm fine," Hank responded, "In fact, I think this is the most comfortable I've been in days. Let her sleep."

Buffy looked over at her sister, a soft smile pulling on her mouth as she watched Dawn snuggle deeper into Hank's fur. Then she looked over and saw Hank's expression mirrored her own.

The world's largest teddy bear, she thought. She leaned over and kissed Hank on the forehead.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"No, thank you," Hank corrected.

Buffy bid him a goodnight, and made her way downstairs to find a place to crash.

*****

Rogue awoke with a start, uncertain as to where she was. Slowly, as her vision cleared and her pulse slowed, she remembered the events of the previous night. Looking at the window, she figured it to be just after eight in the morning. She glanced around the room, noticing that the majority of those who had ended up on the living room floor were still asleep. The immediately noticeable exceptions were Ororo, who had been resting on the couch when Rogue claimed her spot, and Alexis, who had curled up with Pangor in front of the fireplace about four.

As she sat up, intending to head towards the coffee she smelled, she noticed Remy's coat had been placed over her at some point. Buffy had been kind enough to lend her some light clothes for sleeping in, so he hadn't placed it there to keep her skin covered. She pulled the worn material up to her face and inhaled, breathing deep the scent. Then she stood, wrapping the coat around her like a robe, and made her way to the kitchen.

As she entered the kitchen, she saw that not only were Alexis and Ororo there, but so were Buffy and Giles. Giles had just finished preparing tea for himself and Ororo, and Alexis and Buffy both had steaming mugs of coffee in front of them. Pangor sat contentedly at his mistress's feet, a completely emptied sardine tin in front of him. Alexis was talking into her cell phone.

"…okay, so keep your people away from this one," she was saying, "No, I mean it Donald. Yes, I know they're good reporters, but this is way out of their league. Alright, promise? Word of honor, dammit! Good. Yeah, you too. Bye." She closed the phone and turned to Buffy.

"The quote unquote meteor landed just off Baker Island in the Republic of Kiribati. It's a bit east of Australia. US territory, but it should take Glory a few days to get back here."

Buffy took a sip of her coffee, mulling over the information.

"Good, then we've got a day or so to recover," she said.

"Mornin'," Rogue mumbled.

"Oh, thank the gods you're not one of those hideous morning people," Alexis responded. Buffy just pointed towards the coffee mugs that lay on the counter.

As Rogue made her way to the coffee, she heard voices on the back porch.

"Who's out there?" she asked.

"Nicholas, Remy, and Logan," Ororo answered her. "They all elected to simply remain awake through the night." She nodded her thanks to Giles, and sipped at her tea.

"Spike was out there too, till a couple of hours ago," Buffy added, "He had to get back to his crypt before he got all flamey."

Rogue grabbed one of the mugs on the countertop, and gasped as it immediately shattered into dust.

"Rogue!" Ororo exclaimed, standing up and heading towards her friend, "Are you alright?"

"Ah'm fine, 'Ro", the young Mississippian replied, "Look's like this strength is going ta stay with me for a while, though," she gently took a second mug, and filled it with coffee. "It's gonna take some gettin' used ta."

"I remember when I first became the Slayer," Buffy said, "I had the same problem for a week or so. Just be careful with the eggs," she finished sagely.

"Sound advice indeed," came the Professor's voice from the doorway.

Rogue looked wonderingly at him. He was already dressed, and sitting in his usual wheelchair.

"How'd you get downstairs, Professor?" she asked.

"Child," the Professor said gently, "I've been in a wheelchair since before you were born, and the first thing I learned is that it's very much an easier task to get down a set of stairs while in a wheelchair, than it is to get up one." He wheeled his way over to the stove, and turned on the kettle.

"I don't suppose you have any Earl Grey?" he asked Buffy.

"Matter of fact," Buffy started standing up, "That was Mom's favorite. I think there's some…"

"I've got it, Buffy," said Giles, already up and at the cabinet in question. He quickly found the box and pulled out one of the aromatic bags. "Here we are," he said, moving to the tap in order to scald a cup for the Professor.

"Thank you," Xavier responded, "I find myself a bit difficult to cope with unless I have a good cup of tea in the morning."

Several nods responded affirmatively to his statement. Then the quiet morning was broken by an extremely enthusiastic shout from outside.

"Bloody hell!" said Giles, "What was that?"

"It sounded like Dawn," Buffy said as they all headed towards the door.

None of them were prepared for the sight that awaited them. Hank was bounding around the yard, and holding on around his neck, grinning as wide as she could, was Dawn. He landed in the center of the yard, then immediately sprung forward towards the fence. Grabbing the top of the fence in one hand, he grabbed a sturdy branch with his feet and swung out, gaining enough momentum that when he released on the return swing, he was able to flip around in mid air and land on the roof of the house.

"Dawn!" Buffy started, obviously concerned.

"Relax, chere," Remy said with a smile, "Hank won' let anyt'ing 'appen t' the petite."

"…ugh, morning people," Alexis mumbled, "Death to all morning people."

Hank propelled the two of them around the yard like that for a good fifteen minutes, and by the end of it, the onlookers were cheering the two of them from the back porch.

"Here we go, D," he said as he did a one handed somersault off the swingset, "Big finish!" So saying, he reached around his back and tossed Dawn up into the air.

Hank landed on his feet in the center of the yard, catching a hysterically laughing Dawn in his arms as she fell back to Earth.

Looking at her sister, laughing for the first time in weeks, Buffy came to a decision. Tomorrow they would talk about Glory, and start working on what they should do. Today, however, was different. Today they could breathe. Today they could rest. And today, today was going to be the first day in a long time that everyone who was in this house would have one normal day.

She looked again at Dawn, giggling as Hank set her to the ground.

"Normal as we can possibly have, at any rate," she mumbled, smiling.

*****

By ten o'clock, the entire group had been roused up, and Xander, Anya, Willow, and Tara had arrived with the promised doughnuts.

The first thing Buffy did once everyone was awake was to announce her decision. Not surprisingly, it was very well received. The congregation broke up into smaller groups, and easygoing conversation was filling the air.

Giles had made a brief run to his apartment to get showered and changed. When he returned, he carried his guitar with him. Spencer surprised everyone by pulling three more from the back of his van. It seemed that he, his brother, and Alexis played as well. Scott asked if he could borrow one for a moment, surprising Buffy. Nicholas handed his over, claiming to be the weakest link, and the remaining musicians found a corner of the living room and began to play.

Nicholas volunteered to do the cooking for the day, stating that cooking was one of the few things that relaxed him. Remy offered his assistance, which was quickly accepted. The two of them moved into the kitchen, raiding the freezer and the cabinets, and planning a feast that all would remember.

Logan had changed into jeans and a tee shirt, and wrangled the keys to Spencer's van in order to make a beer run. He quickly found himself with a large list as everyone present asked him to pick up his or her particular favorite snacking food.

*****

Logan had just returned from his trip, and the various snack foods had been passed out to their appropriate owners, when Nicholas' cell phone started to chirp.

He looked at the caller ID and groaned.

"Yes?" he said into the mouthpiece.

"Meet me out back in two minutes," came the response.

"You want a beer?"

"Hello, Graydon," the voice answered, "This is me you're talking to."

"Got it," Nicholas replied, heading towards the fridge. He turned towards Remy as he walked.

"I've got to meet someone, back in a bit," he said.

The Cajun looked at him for a second, then understanding dawned in his expression. He nodded his head and returned to the prep work for the jambalaya. Nicholas grabbed two of the Linenkugel's Honey Wiese he'd requested and stepped out onto the back porch.

He hadn't been there for more than a moment when a slight shimmer appeared in his peripheral vision, down towards the edge of the yard. He turned and walked down the stairs towards the disturbance, and watched the tall, bald, well-dressed black man appear from nowhere. He held one of the brews to the newcomer. The man accepted it readily, a slight smile pulling the edges of his goatee.

"Never get tired of that little gadget, do you?" Nicholas asked.

"You're just jealous that you don't get one," the man replied, taking the beer.

"I don't need one," Nicholas said with a smile. "I do that all the time."

The man smiled, his one good eye glinting in the afternoon sun. The other was hidden behind a black eye-patch, and the scars that crept out from underneath indicated that the loss was not a pleasant one.

"I'd love to bullshit for a while Graydon," he said, "But I'm not even here." He held out a manila folder, taking a deep drink of the beer Nicholas had given him.

"What's this?" Nicholas asked, taking the folder and opening it.

"What I found looking for Walsh's financial partners," the newcomer said, leaning against the railing. "Keep in mind, we don't have any of this information, officially."

Nicholas flipped through the pages for a moment, then looked up at the other man.

"Friends of Humanity?" he asked. "Isn't this a bit beyond them?"

"Well, that's what I thought too," came the reply, "Seems they've gotten some deep pockets in the last few years. Check out the memo towards the end."

"Approved," Nicholas read aloud, "By Bastion. Who the hell is Bastion?"

"That," the man said, "Is what you are going to have to find out."

"Great," Nicholas replied, "Can I at least take this to Xavier? He'd have a much better chance of understanding the technical aspects of it. What the hell are 'Nano-Cybernetics' anyway?"

"As far as I'm concerned," the other responded, "You can do whatever you want. That's what I hired you for remember? Just so long as no one ever finds out where this information came from." He looked towards the back door just in time to see a flash of blonde hair as someone ducked away from the window. "Who's the blonde?"

"Probably the Slayer," Nicholas replied. "I'll make sure she understands."

"Good," the visitor said, finishing off his beer. "Thanks for the brew," he touched his belt buckle and the air around him shimmered. Then he simply vanished.

"You're welcome," Nicholas said, smirking. He gathered up the empty bottles and headed back inside.

Sure enough, Buffy was standing just inside the door. Nicholas looked at her as he deposited the empty bottles in the trash.

"You saw nothing," he said quietly, "Absolutely nothing, okay?"

"Right," the Slayer replied, "Like anyone would believe I saw the evil pirate version of Mr. Clean anyway. That eye-patch for real?"

Nicholas started laughing, and finally had to sit down before he fell over.

*****

Quiet. The house was quiet. Buffy Summers sat in the living room and looked around. Everything had been cleaned up, all the bedding had been put away, and the furniture had been moved back to its usual placement.

And it was quiet.

She was right to have pulled the Professor in on her thoughts. Scott was adamant about staying until Glory had been taken care of. Then the three of them, Buffy, Scott, and Xavier, had retired into the kitchen and discussed it. At the end, Scott agreed.

He and Buffy both cried for a little while. And made each other lots of promises.

And now, it was quiet.

Dawn had gone up to bed shortly after everyone had left. Buffy had checked in on her a little while ago, and found her sound asleep with Henry, the doll version, held close.

The day of normalcy was over.

Giles came out of the kitchen where he had been putting away the last load of dishes.

"I believe that's everything," he told her. "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," she responded. "Just wishing we could have more days like today."

"I can understand that," Giles said, sitting down next to her on the couch. "It was good to see you smiling."

"Hmmm," Buffy said, "You too. And Dawnie, god, I think she's in love with Hank."

"Don't be dramatic," Giles told her, "But she is rather attached to him. And he to her, I suspect."

"Certainly looked that way to me," Buffy agreed, "Which is definitely of the good."

Buffy looked at the business card that Alexis had given her. Simple ivory stock with an embossed "VI" in the center, and a phone number in the lower right corner.

"Six?" she had asked. Nick had snickered at that.

"No 'I told you so' from you, thank you," Alexis told him. Then she had turned to Buffy. "It was supposed to be 'Vanadis Investigations'. But, 'Six' works too."

Buffy smiled at the memory.

"Well, I suppose I should be heading home," Giles said, standing. Buffy reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Giles, wait," she said, "This sounds kind of silly, I know, but…could you stay one more night? You could have Mom's room."

Giles looked at his young charge, gently.

"Oh, never mind," Buffy said, "It's just stupid."

"No," Giles corrected her, "It's not stupid, Buffy. You have never been stupid. A bit thick at times, perhaps," he added smiling.

"Okay, I deserved that for some of the things I've said in the past," she admitted, "It's just, our one day isn't quite over with yet, and I'm not ready to be the adult in this house."

"Well then," Giles said, sitting back down and pulling his…daughter close. "What say we see if there's anything on the telly for a while?"

And there was a few more hours of normalcy at the house on Revello Drive.