Dawn trudged down a marble staircase, a vampire in front of her and a cat behind. Her young features were drawn with exhaustion and stormy with indignation. The vampire skirted a patch of sunshine as he led the teen into an airy breakfast nook.

"Good morning, Dawn," greeted Lucas Hayden cheerfully. "Did you sleep well?"

"What do you think?" snapped Dawn.

Hayden looked sympathetic. "I understand. A new situation takes time to get used to. Perhaps you'd like some breakfast. I wasn't sure what you usually have, so I had my chef whip up a little of everything."

From the look of the table, he wasn't kidding. There was a small platter of various pastries, a short stack of blueberry pancakes, a Belgian waffle, bacon, sausage, a bowl of scrambled eggs, pitchers of milk, orange juice, and apple juice, and three hot carafes. Accompanying all this was butter, several jams, syrup, ketchup, salt, pepper, sugar, honey, an assortment of tea bags, and Tabasco sauce.

"Obsessive much?" asked Dawn as she sat down. She wasn't planning on being cooperative by any means, but the hunger pangs gnawing at her stomach made her unable to pass up the food. After a moment of consideration, she loaded up her plate with scrambled eggs, a few sausage links, and an English muffin with strawberry jam, and filled her glass with orange juice.

"Would you like coffee, tea, or cocoa?" Hayden asked. Dawn, her mouth full of food, merely shook her head. Hayden poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down opposite her. "Well, Dawn, we've quite a few things to discuss this morning."

Dawn washed down some scrambled eggs with juice. "Yeah, like whether you're going to let me go before Buffy breaks your spine, or after."

Hayden merely gave her a look that said he was humoring her. "Be that as it may, Dawn, you're going to be here quite some time. Now, what I'd like to know from you is what I can do to make your stay more comfortable. Can you think of anything you need?"

Dawn was all set with her next retort when the door to the breakfast nook banged open and a person she hadn't seen before walked in. He was a man maybe a little younger than Xander, she guessed, but not nearly as tall, and much skinnier. He was dressed in battered blue jeans, a Tragically Hip t-shirt, a red plaid flannel, and sneakers that had seen better days. His face was sharp-featured under a ragged mop of messy brown hair and a set of wire-rimmed glasses. In one hand, he held an empty coffee mug. In the other, he had a pen, which he was twirling between his fingers.

The new man tossed off a mumbled salutation of some sort while making a beeline for the carafes on the breakfast table. He set down his coffee mug, picked up one carafe, took a sniff of the contents, set it down, and repeated the process with the other two. In the third one, he apparently found what he was looking for and poured his mug full of coffee to the rim, drank half of it in two gulps, then re-filled it back to the rim.

"Good morning, Gianni," said Hayden finally.

"Signore Hayden, good morning," said the newcomer, as if the presence of others in the nook had only just occurred to him. Gianni reached for the pastries, seemed to realize the pen was still in his hand, stuck it in his mouth, took a Danish, brought it to his mouth, realized the pen was now there, set down the Danish, took the pen out of his mouth and tucked it behind his ear, grabbed the pastry again, shoved it in his mouth, and started talking about something. Dawn couldn't make out a single word he was saying.

Hayden gave Dawn an apologetic shrug. "Gianni," he interrupted the young man, "I'd like you to meet someone."

Gianni finally looked over at Dawn. "Who's the little girl?"

"Gianni, this is Dawn Summers. Dawn, this is Giovanni Cassio, one of the top cryptologists in the world, among other things. Gianni, you remember how I said the key to our whole operation is a person?" Gianni nodded. "This is our Key."

Gianni did a double take at her, swallowing the last of the Danish. "This? The bambina?" Hayden nodded. Gianni shrugged. "You're the boss. I'm just the guy you're paying ridiculous amounts of money to." Dawn noted, at this point, a slight Italian accent.

"How are things going?" Hayden asked the young man.

"Fine, fine. You'll have your machine ready for testing in a few days," said Gianni, slurping his coffee. "Or you will if you keep that strega away from me. She gives me agitations. Why is she here, anyway? I thought she was being kept in a kennel somewhere."

Dawn snickered as she realized who the "she" Gianni was talking about was, and precisely what that last sentence meant.

"The house in Malibu had unwelcome guests, so she had to return home. Don't make things difficult with Nicole."

Gianni grunted and drained his cup. "Tell her to stay out of my brain, then. If I catch her snooping in my thoughts again, I'll put her head on a Playboy Playmate's picture and post it on the Internet with her cell phone number." Dawn burst into giggles at that. Gianni looked at her approvingly. "See? The bambina agrees with me."

Hayden decided to cut this short. "I need some time alone with Dawn, Gianni, but I'd like to meet with you later to discuss our progress."

"Fine. Ciao, Signore Hayden. Ciao, bambina." Gianni grabbed another pastry, refilled his coffee cup, and left the nook.

Hayden turned his attention back to Dawn. "As I was saying, Dawn-"

He was interrupted as Gianni came back in. "Did I leave my pen on the table?" he asked.

"It's behind your ear," said Hayden.

"Oh." Gianni shrugged, turned, and left again.

"As I was saying, Dawn," Hayden repeated, "if you need anything to make your stay more comfortable, you have only to ask. Can you think of anything right now?"

Dawn decided to see just how serious he was about this. "I need some more clothes," she said.

"Done."

"But not just anything," clarified Dawn. "It has to be stuff I'd wear, not stuff I wouldn't be caught dead in."

"Not a problem," said Hayden. "We'll get you some clothes catalogues and you can pick what you'd like. Give my housekeeper, Mrs. Abbey, your sizes and preferences, and we'll have all you'd need within a day. Anything else?"

"Well . . ." Dawn thought. "If I'm going to be staying here, I don't want to die of boredom. I need some books. And some movies. There's that TV in my room, but does it have a VCR or DVD player?"

"We'll get you one. What else do you need?"

Inwardly, Dawn smiled. So, he was wanting to get on her good side, was he?

We'll just see about that, she thought.

-----

Lucas Hayden knew he might eventually have to deal with the Slayer. He had prepared for that, taken precautions. But when Nicole told him there were two vampires in the mix as well - two vampires who were not on his side - Hayden realized that his operation might be in trouble. Ethan Rayne had given him an idea about how to handle it, but more information was needed before Hayden could make a decision. So Hayden did what the very rich traditionally do when trouble comes to their doors: he called his lawyer.

"Wolfram & Hart. How may I direct your call?"

"Gavin Park's office, please."

"One moment, Mr. Hayden." Lucas noted the operator hadn't needed to hear his name to know who he was, and he wondered idly if the means was mystical or merely caller ID.

The line buzzed and was picked up. "Gavin Park."

"Gavin? This is Lucas Hayden."

"Lucas! Good to hear from you. How did the house in Malibu work out?"

"I'm afraid I had to move out. Pest control problems."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you need a new location? I can get you something nice in the Hills."

"No, thank you, I'm making do. I'm actually calling about another of your areas of expertise: Angel."

"My, you ARE having problems. I'm afraid there's only so much help we can offer-"

"No, no, I don't need any action taken. Just a little research."

"Whatever you like. If you tell me what you want to know, I can have a report put together and faxed to you by the end of the week."

"I'm afraid it's a bit urgent."

"Well, I could connect you to Files and Records, though clients don't usually deal with her directly."

"'Her'? Your Files and Records department is one person?"

"'Person' might be stretching it a bit, but yes, one very knowledgeable individual. Just be sure that your questions are very specific, and don't be afraid to cut her off, or you'll be on the phone all day."

"Thank you, Gavin."

"No problem. I'll transfer you now."

The line buzzed once, and an even-toned female voice answered. "Files and Records."

"This is Lucas Hayden. Mr. Park said you could answer some questions for me."

There was a rapid series of clicking noises, after which the voice said, "Hayden, Lucas G. Wolfram & Hart client since 1995. How may I help you?"

"I need some information about the vampire, Angel."

"I have six hundred and thirty-two files pertaining to subject Angel. Please specify the information you need."

"Tell me about his origins."

"Subject Angel born Liam O'Connor, Galway, Ireland, 1727. Father: Brian O'Connor, a trader of silks and linen. Mother: Bridget Finlay O'Connor. Subject also had one sibling, younger sister Kathleen O'Connor. Brian, Bridget and Kathleen O'Connor killed by subject on September 4th, 1753. Second-degree relatives include-"

"Stop. Angel killed his own parents and little sister?"

"Correct. Liam O'Connor converted to vampire on September 3rd, 1753. Brian, Bridget, and Kathleen O'Connor, as well as servant Anna Shea, are subject's first known victims. Reports from local constabulary suggested animal attack, but-"

"Stop. Give additional details of Angel's life prior to his 'conversion.'"

"Please be more specific."

"Work, education, behavior, anything that will give me an idea of his personality."

"Subject had no regular employment. He worked for his father periodically, but he was given few responsibilities. Subject received no formal education. Additional relevant information: Subject had several recorded arrests between 1744 and 1753 for public drunkenness, brawling, petty theft, and the solicitation of prostitutes."

"So Angel was essentially a shiftless, skirt-chasing drunk?"

"I'm Files and Records, sir. I can only give you the facts; I cannot draw conclusions."

"Nonetheless." Hayden nodded thoughtfully to himself. "All right, tell me about known vampire associates of Angel's."

"Darla. Original name and date of birth unknown, though bone scans performed subsequent to her resurrection indicated-"

"Stop." Hayden tried to remember the details Nicole had given him about the other vampire she had seen in her mind. "Stick to male associates, under six feet in height. With blonde hair."

"Spike, aka William the Bloody. Born William Harding, London, England, 1854, converted to vampire in 1880. Height: 5'9", weight: one hundred and sixty pounds, eyes blue, hair brown, though subject has been bleaching it regularly since 1971. Other distinguishing features: small horizontal scar through left eyebrow, fingernails sometimes painted black."

"That's him," Hayden said. "Tell me about his early history."

"Father: Jacob Harding, headmaster of the Smithson School for Boys in London. Mother: Elizabeth Carrington Harding, daughter of Sir Miles Carrington, decorated Navy captain. Subject had four siblings: elder brother Nathaniel Harding, a solicitor with the firm of Arnold, Nesmith, and Sachs; elder sister, Emma Harding Grayson, wife of Nicholas Grayson-"

"Stop. What was William's profession?"

"Subject was an instructor in English literature at the Smithson School for Boys."

Aha, Hayden thought. Daddy got him a job. Maybe William couldn't find one for himself.

"Tell me about his social life."

"No spouse or particular friends on record. Subject courted several women from his late teens until the date of his conversion - none successfully. It is also noted that the subject made repeated attempts to publish original poetry, and it has been speculated that the subject spent much of his free time composing said poetry. However, none of subject's work was ever purchased. I have four samples on file."

"Let's hear one."

"Your eyes, as brown as richest soil / fertile, full of grace and mirth / your auburn hair that gently falls / like leaves that fear to dent the earth. / Your nose-"

"Stop." Hayden cringed inwardly. Even discounting the flatness of the reader's voice, the poetry was still horrible. It was no wonder that William Harding's attempts at both publication and romance had ended up in the ash can.

"I believe that is all the information I need," Hayden said. "Thank you."

"Files and Records is glad to be of service, Mr. Hayden. Have a nice day."

Hayden hung up the phone. This is going to work out, after all, he thought. With a little help from Mr. Rayne.

-----

By 8:00 that evening, the Sunnydale and Los Angeles contingents were sitting in the lobby of the Hyperion around four open, empty pizza boxes.

"I can't believe we ate all that," Tara said.

"Well, there's nothing like a day of useless, frustrating research to get your appetite going," Cordelia responded. "Or, in my case, a full-blown assault on your brain."

Angel looked at her. She seemed fine, but Angel had noticed that Cordelia was developing a talent for seeming fine when she really wasn't. Maybe she learned it from me, he thought.

"Is all of the pizza gone?" Giles asked. "I'm still a bit hungry."

"Well, if Cordelia had let me order those garlic knots." Xander replied. Angel threw him a cold glance.

"There'd have been more for the humans if Billy Idol over there hadn't eaten three slices of pepperoni," Gunn noted, nodding at Spike. "It's not like he needed it."

"I wouldn't throw stones, Eight Ball," Spike retorted. "You ate at least half of the Hawaiian."

"Um," Fred said, clearly quite anxious to be speaking in front of such a large group, "don't let me stop the fun, but aren't there more important things for us to fight about right now than pizza? Like, we could fight about what to do next. That'd be more constructive, right?"

Willow noticed the tiny smile on Wesley's face as he heard these words. Wow, she thought, there's vibe everywhere you look in this place.

"Fred's right," Angel said.

"Okay. Any luck with that coded thingy?" Buffy asked.

"Not much, I'm afraid," Wesley answered.

Wesley caught Buffy rolling her eyes ever so slightly.

"It's at least a two-tiered code," Fred added. "I mean, it's not just letter-replacement or anything like that. I've got one of the computers running all kinds of solution algorhythms, but it could be a while before one of them produces a readable translation. If any of them does, that is. And the answer will be in Medieval Italian."

"Great," Buffy said. "How about the house you guys raided?"

"It's a dead end," Cordelia said. "Whoever put together the shell corporation that owned the place left zero paper trail."

"Right," Buffy breathed. "How about the Skeezix demon?"

"Sch'sek," Wesley corrected.

"Whatever," Buffy said.

"The, ah, Sch'sek prefers a diet of freshly-killed goat," Giles said, cutting in. "Xander and I have been visiting specialty butcher shops in the area, but we haven't learned anything helpful so far."

Buffy turned to look at Gunn. He could see the growing desperation behind her eyes.

"I've been on the streets, talking to folks," Gunn said before Buffy could ask a question. "But a lot of 'em aren't talking back."

"You think they're afraid to talk?" Buffy said with a tiny note of hope. "If they're scared, then at least they know who they're scared of. Maybe we could get one to tell us something."

"I don't think that's it," Gunn replied. "I had kind of a falling out with the guys I used to run with, and it looks like they've been talking trash about me all over the place. Some of my old sources don't trust me anymore."

"Then we're nowhere," Buffy said flatly. "We don't know where Dawn is or who's got her."

"Well, that's not totally true," Willow said, anxious to make Buffy feel better. "We know Dawn is somewhere in or near L.A., and, and we know she's OK. That's something."

"Look," Angel said to Buffy, "we're going to find her. It's just a matter of time."

"You got a lot of people on your side, here," Gunn added.

"And you have our undivided attention," Wesley finished. "We shall take no other cases until-"

"Help!" a voice screamed from the Hyperion's main doorway. All heads turned to see a woman, perhaps twenty years old and wearing jeans and a tube top, standing there, panic-stricken.

The woman ran up to the group. "Please. Is this Angel Investigations?"

"Yes," Angel said. Before he could say anything more, the woman started talking a mile a minute.

"They have my boyfriend! Vampires! Maybe eight or nine, I don't know. At the Vu!"

"The who?" asked Xander.

"The Déjà Vu," Cordelia answered. "It's a night club about six blocks from here. Or it was, until the owners got busted for tax evasion. It hasn't been open in months."

"Maybe they decided to cater to a new crowd," Angel said. He turned to the woman. "Do you know why they took him?"

"Some of them were Terry's - my boyfriend's - friends. You know, before they turned into."

"I get it," Angel said.

Gunn and Wesley got up and ran into the back room, emerging seconds later with weapons.

"Given the vampires' numbers," Giles said, "perhaps Buffy and I should join you."

"Capital idea," Wesley responded, tossing his Cossack cavalry saber to Giles and running to the back for another weapon.

Buffy pulled a pair of stakes from her jacket. "I'm up for it," she said.

"Same here," said Xander.

"Us, too," added Willow. She and Tara got to their feet.

"I haven't hit anyone in almost a day," said Spike. "Count me in."

"You've got to be kidding," Angel said.

"Angel, please, he can help," Buffy responded.

Angel realized he didn't have time to argue. "Cordelia, you know this place?"

"I went there a few times," she said.

"Then I guess we're all going," Angel replied.

"Hey, I didn't volunteer," Anya said.

"You want to stay here?" Angel asked.

"No, I just didn't get a chance to volunteer yet. There, now I have."

"Then let's move," Angel said.

-----

Across the street from the Hyperion, Ethan Rayne watched from a coffee shop window as two cars pulled out from behind the hotel and sped away up the street. As the cars drove out of sight, he muttered, "Ah, these heroic sorts. So noble, so daring.so bloody predictable."

Rayne slapped a dollar down on the Formica table, then checked his jacket pocket as he walked out of the coffee shop. His fingers felt the smooth glass of a small vial. Good.

This was going to be fun.

-----

They drove the six blocks to keep their swords, axes, and crossbows out of view. When they pulled up in front of the building, Angel turned to the woman seated next to him. During the short ride over to the Vu, she had mentioned that her name was Gina Flores.

"Do you know where in the building they are?"

"No. When I saw them drag him in, I went straight to you. I heard you could help with this kind of stuff."

"We can," Wesley said from the front passenger's seat. "And we shall."

As if to emphasize the point, Gunn elbowed his door open and cocked his crossbow.

Xander had parked his car right behind Angel's and was now hurrying out of it, brandishing a loaner scimitar. He appeared to be about to rush headlong into the building when Giles put a hand on Xander's shoulder.

"They know this place, and we don't," Giles said. "Best to follow their lead."

"Hello?" said Xander. "Which one are you looking to for leadership, exactly? I mean, it's Angel. And Wesley. And Cordelia! And that girl who says weird stuff. And, and that guy I don't know."

"I realize that there isn't a great deal of basis for trust, here, but we must keep in mind that saving Dawn is our top priority."

"We're not here to help Dawn. We're here to save a guy we've never met who has nothing to do with Dawn at all."

"Yes, well, good point. But let's just focus on getting it done and remaining alive, shall we?"

Xander sighed. "Correct as usual, King Friday."

Angel and Buffy went in first, very cautiously, Gunn watching their backs. Then the others quietly filed in. Cordelia stayed behind with Gina, and Anya volunteered to keep the engine of Xander's car running in case they needed to make a quick getaway.

Great, Xander thought. Bloodsucking night stalkers in front of me, Anya's driving behind me. Rock, meet Hard Place.

-----

Angel crept through the short entranceway and peeked around the corner at the dance floor. The room was about a hundred feet square, with an elevated DJ booth in one corner and a bar on the rear wall. There were, indeed, nine vampires in the room. Four of these were lounging around on some raggedy couches by the right-hand wall, while the rest stood around a man - presumably Terry - in a straight-backed wooden chair at the far end of the room. They jeered at him, playing with him as vampires sometimes do prior to the kill. Any time Terry tried to get up, one of the vamps would simply push him back down.

"OK," Buffy whispered as the rest of the group bunched up awkwardly behind her. "Everybody with crossbows, go for the ones on the couch. The rest of us will rescue Terry."

Everyone nodded.

"Now!" Buffy hissed. The entire group poured into the room.

As the others charged forward, Gunn, Fred, Willow, and Tara hung back and fired their crossbows at the four vampires on the couches. Gunn and Willow hit their targets through the heart, disintegrating them, but Fred's shot hit a vampire in the right side of his chest. Tara's bolt missed completely and buried itself in the couch.

The two surviving vampires growled and charged, the wounded one pulling the bolt from his chest as he ran. Willow and Tara dropped their crossbows and clasped hands; one of the vamps suddenly flew back as though a two-ton mule had kicked him in the chest. He hit the wall head-first and was knocked unconscious.

Gunn threw his crossbow behind him and pulled a hand axe from his belt. The last charging vampire swung his fist at Gunn's head. Gunn ducked and kneed the vampire in the groin. When the vamp doubled over, Gunn grasped him by the hair with one hand and swung his axe downward with the other, decapitating the monster. Gunn coughed as the vampire burst into a cloud of dust.

Meanwhile, the others were charging into the group of five vampires standing around their prisoner. Angel ran at one, then dodged sideways and surprised a different vampire, kicking him in the side and knocking him away. The vampire who had expected an attack from Angel instead found itself frantically dodging sword cuts from Wesley and Giles. Buffy leaped up and kicked a vampire in the head, then landed and performed a low roundhouse kick to the knee that dropped the vamp to the floor. She staked it on the ground.

Xander, who was also on the floor, was engaged in a desperate wrestling match with one of the vampires when he saw the prisoner, Terry, rise up out of his chair and approach Buffy from behind. The man's brown eyes suddenly went yellow as his face distorted with bumps and fissures.

Xander tried to shout a warning, but the vampire on top of him had a hold of his throat; Xander could only squeak ineffectually as the "prisoner" smashed the edge of his hand against Buffy's neck, knocking her to her knees.

Angel saw this, too, and ran over to the Terry-vamp just as he was about to drop down and bite Buffy's neck. The souled vampire yanked Terry around by his shoulder with one hand and threw a hook punch to the ribs with the other. In response, the vamp grasped Angel's shoulders and head-butted him. Angel leaned back with the force of the blow, then pulled the vampire down to the floor on top of him and shoved his feet into the monster's midsection. The vampire flew over Angel's head in a ten-foot-high arc to land on one of its comrades, who was fighting with Spike. All three of them were knocked to the floor in a heap.

Just then, the door behind the bar on the back wall flew open, and four figures emerged. In the lead were two humans armed with shotguns. They both fired at Buffy.

Fortunately, Buffy had regained her senses. She dove to the ground and rolled, coming up with a stake in her right hand. She hurled it at one of the men; the stake penetrated his bicep. He howled and dropped his gun, then ran back through the door.

The second human was cocking his shotgun for another blast when Angel knocked him down, wrenched the gun from his hands, and knocked him unconscious with the butt.

This action occupied Angel's attention long enough that he didn't see the seven-foot-tall Sch'sek demon coming up behind him. A thick metal cable snaked out of the demon's wrist and the creature swung the cable at Angel. The end of it caught the vampire in the temple and knocked him unconscious.

"Angel!" Buffy shouted. She ran forward to attack the large humanoid, but was intercepted by a tall, blue-eyed woman with short, blonde hair.

"Outta my way!" Buffy shouted as she continued her charge, planning to knock the blonde out of her path. Instead, at the last moment, the other woman took a long step sideways, leaving one leg extended. Buffy tripped right over it.

Gunn, Willow, Tara, and Fred had now joined in the hand-to-hand combat to assist Xander and Spike, who were both in the process of being out-grappled by their opponents on the ground. Willow pulled out a stake and jammed it into the back of the vampire that was strangling Xander, dusting it. Xander sat up, blinking hard to get the stuff out of his eyes.

Tara shouted "Membri par plumbo!" at one of the vamps that was wrestling with Spike. The monster's grip suddenly went slack, and the creature rolled limply off the British vamp. Fred staked it easily, leaving Spike with only one opponent.

Wesley and Giles had finished off their mutual opponent and now moved to engage the Sch'sek. They approached the creature warily, brandishing their weapons, until Giles cried, "Now!" and they split up to flank the demon. The Sch'sek lashed out with one of its cable-whips and struck Giles' saber in the middle of the blade, snapping it in two.

Wesley yelled and attacked the Sch'sek's other side with a mace. The weapon bounced harmlessly off the Sch'sek's thick hide. The creature turned and looked at him menacingly.

"Wes! Down!" a voice shouted. Both Wesley and the Sch'sek looked up to see Gunn holding a captured shotgun. Wesley dropped to the floor and rolled away as Gunn fired at the demon, cocked, and fired again, and again. The monster staggered back a few feet with each shot, but was otherwise unaffected.

Buffy got up from the floor just in time to receive a palm strike to the jaw from the blonde woman. The Slayer bent backward with the blow, flinging herself upwards in a full back flip. She lashed out her leg to catch the woman's head with a front kick in the course of her rotation, but the woman easily backed away from the kick, causing Buffy to over-rotate and land awkwardly. The tall blonde used Buffy's recovery time to reach into her white jacket for a butterfly knife, which she expertly flipped open.

The Slayer leaped forward and snapped her foot up to kick the knife out of the blonde's hand. The woman jerked the blade out of the path of the kick, then lunged and slashed, putting a large gash in Buffy's leather jacket and a medium-sized one in her side. Buffy stumbled back with a grunt of pain.

Then, just as Buffy thought that the blonde was about to attack again, the woman leaped to the side instead, just in time to avoid a bolt from Fred's crossbow. The woman shouted at the tall demon, "Kogue! We go!"

The Sch'sek had been advancing on Gunn; it now took one more moment to snap its cable-whip at him. The tip hit Gunn's forearm with a loud crack. Gunn stifled a scream.

Kogue grabbed up the unconscious gunman who had come in with him, then strode rapidly out the back door right behind the tall woman. Buffy gave chase, but Kogue slammed the door behind him hard enough to knock Buffy back a dozen feet. Gunn, however, had snatched up the second shotgun, and he ran out into the alley. A white Cadillac with tinted windows peeled out with tires screeching. Gritting his teeth against the pain of his fractured arm, Gunn fired the shotgun at the back window, but the pellets did not penetrate.

Inside, the others quickly finished off the remaining vampires. The Slayer and her nine companions then dusted themselves off and walked or limped back to the front entrance of the Déjà Vu. Cordelia and Anya were waiting in the cars. Gina, however, was not.

"She said she had to pee, and that she was just going to the pizza place up the block," Cordelia protested when Wesley and Gunn glared at her. "I just figured she was nervous," she said, shrugging.

They drove by the pizza joint. The teenager at the counter said he hadn't seen anyone matching Gina's description, so they drove back to the Hyperion, after which Fred took Gunn to the ER to have his arm looked at.

-----

"Okay, this was a setup, right?" Xander said as he twisted open a jar of mayonnaise. Post-stress hunger had descended upon them all, so they were holding their meeting in the kitchen.

"That seems a safe assumption," Wesley said.

"So Gina was a fake?" Tara asked.

Cordelia looked at her. "Hon, if there weren't a whole lot of starving actresses out there willing to do anything for a few bucks, there would be no such thing as porn."

"The real question is, why'd they bother?" Spike asked cynically as he took a sip of the blood Angel had very grudingly allowed him. "We routed 'em easy enough. Hell, if that Sch'sek demon hadn't run when he did, I could have-"

"-let him beat you to the consistency of cherry pie filling," Giles said. "In any case, from all appearances, it looks as though their purpose was to kill Buffy. They did focus their most lethal attacks on her."

"I don't get it," Buffy said. "That blonde lady seemed totally normal. No super-strength, no weird demon skin. But I couldn't lay a hand on her." Buffy unconsciously touched the bandage that was wrapped around her middle.

"Was she blind, with all-white eyeballs?" Cordelia said. "'Cause we've seen that."

"Not that I noticed," Buffy responded.

"But why make so much effort just to get rid of Buffy?" Anya asked.

"Maybe Mr. Big thinks were on to him," Spike said, taking another drink. "Doesn't know we don't have a bloody clue."

"We do too have a clue," Willow said. "That blonde woman - that was the one I saw in Dawn's mind."

"And that Sch'sek is almost certainly the one who was at the house in Malibu," Wesley added.

"Right," said Angel, setting aside his own mug of blood. "But what do we.whoa." He put his palm to his forehead and leaned back on the counter.

"Are you all right?" Fred asked, looking concerned.

"I just feel a little.lightheaded," Angel said.

There was suddenly a thump; everyone looked around to see Spike on the floor, unconscious. Wesley only barely caught Angel as he, too, collapsed. With Fred's help, Wesley carefully laid Angel on the floor.

"What's going on?" Tara said. She had been sitting next to Spike, and now she leaned over to look at his prone form.

Fred knelt down next to Angel and began patting his face. "Angel?" she said. "Angel, wake up."

Xander nudged Spike's shoulder with his shoe. "Hey, Spike! Naptime's over!"

Angel's eyes slowly opened. Fred smiled broadly with relief.

"Angel, what happened?" she said.

"An angel, eh?" Angel said. "Why not? You're pretty enough."

Fred was pleased for a microsecond until she realized that Angel didn't seem to know his own name. That was usually bad.

"No," she said. "YOU'RE Angel. That's your name. Why does your voice sound funny?"

"It doesn't, and that's not my name," the vampire replied. "My name is Liam."

END CHAPTER 5