"Dougie!" Marcie shouted into the two storey ranch, as she opened the door for Andrew. "The guy from the school is here." She glanced at the girl coming up behind them. "I didn't see her there."

Andrew smiled as the older boy entered the hallway from the kitchen, where he'd obviously been trying his hand at baking. From the smells that wafted in after him, Andrew didn't think he was all that success full.

"You Mr. Wells," Dougie demanded.

"That's me," Andrew said, and this," he indicated the girl, "is Jasmine, from the school also, though she's a student and I'm not, a student I mean. She's real good at sketching and she's going to draw a picture of the demon's that took your mother. You know, like a police artist."

"They were demons. What does she need a picture for?"

"Not all demons look the same. Like those Fyarl demons, who brought you to the school. From what you told Mr. Harris, they don't look like the demons who kidnapped your Mom."

"Yeah, okay. Come in I guess. Marcie, you go upstairs and get Corrie. She's in her room." Doug looked at Andrew, his eyes narrowing as Marcie ran for the stairs. "You really think you can find her? Cause I don't know how long I can keep doing this. You know, keeping us from being split up. The neighbours are already wondering where our folks are."

"Don't you have a father," Jasmine asked, taking off her coat and hanging it on the coat tree.

"He died in Iraq. This way." Doug led them into the living room, where he left them to find seats while he went back to the kitchen. He returned shortly with a plate full of semi-scorched cookies and a pitcher of lemonade. "I'll get Corrie and Marcie."

"Uhh," Andrew stopped him. "Maybe you could tell us what happened that night, and show us where it happened."

"I told Mr. Harris. Didn't he tell you?"

"Yes he did, but you may have remembered something since. That would be helpful."

"We were in the basement." Doug led them out into the hall, where they ran into Corrie and Marcie, who were immediately told to go wait in the living room. Doug then went to a side door in the hall and pulled it open. "Down there. Light's on the left." He stood back allowing Andrew to go first.

"He doesn't go first," snapped Jasmine. "I do." Suiting action to words, she slipped past Andrew and was halfway down the stairs by the time Andrew found the light switch. Jasmine jumped the last few steps, and took a quick look around before turning to Andrew. "All clear." She glared at Andrew. "You know what turning the light on like that could have done if I'd been in the middle of a fight?"

"But you weren't fighting," Andrew told her. "And it would have distracted you, as it might have distracted anything watching you come down those stairs."

Jasmine rolled her eyes but didn't say anything.

The basement was one large cement walled room, barely furnished, an old couch, a wooden table, a chair, and a furnace and water heater. Other than that the room was bare, except for the pentagram drawn in white paint on the cement floor. On the table, a thick text lay open.

"What was your Mom doing down here?" Andrew got down on his knees to examine he pentagram. He took out a magnifier for a closer look. "Salt bits here and there, scattered, Jasmine you getting this down?"

Jasmine rolled her eyes. "I came to draw pretty pictures, not to be your secretary. I got the tape going, don't worry."

Andrew nodded, and went back to his examination. "Salt lines not following pentagram lines." He stood up and faced Doug, who was standing beside the stairs watching. "My guess is they did, but later someone tried sweeping it up, not doing so great a job. What was your Mother doing down here."

"I don't know," said Dougie. "All I know is I heard something and when I came down Mom was struggling with these demons, then they disappeared."

"Marcie and Corrie, were they down here?"

"I dunno," Doug shrugged. "They may have followed me down."

Andrew nodded, and looked around some more. Not that there was much to see. Except for the metallic object poking out from under the couch. Andrew pulled it out. An ordinary dustpan, nothing special, except that the handle was twisted. Like it had been wrenched out of a very tight grip. There was spots of blood on what was left of the handle, and a dark ichor like substance on the blade.

Andrew eyed Doug. "I think I'd like to talk to your sisters now." He started for the stairs. "Jas, could you keep our host entertained and here, till I come back."

Hey," Doug started. "You got questions for them, you ask when I'm there."

"Why , you got something to hide?"

"Like what?"

"Like all this was you're doing."

"What...how can you?"

Andrew held up the dustpan. "Jas, ever think of a dustpan as a weapon when going up against a demon?"

"Nope," the young slayer said. "You mean he...?"

"You drew the pentagram didn't you Doug? It should have worked, except that you were using that book, the one on the table over there, which really you shouldn't have, cause it's really really full of errors, so many that it would be surprising if it did." Doug's didn't say anything, but he backed up a step, looking scared. "It didn't work right away, did it Doug," Andrew pressed on. "Nothing happened, or so you thought. Isn't that right Doug? At least nothing happened right away, cause part of the spell was wrong. Except that it did work, only you weren't here when it did. It didn't work, not right away, so you went away and did something else, didn't you. So when your Mother came down, she saw the pentagram and the salt, and maybe other things, so she decided to clean up. That's when it worked, isn't it. Only your Mother had already swept up the salt, destroying the binding spell that would have kept her safe. So when you heard the noise and came down to investigate, you saw your Mother fighting the demon, using the dustpan as a weapon, cause that's what she had in her hand at the time. That's what happened isn't it?"

Doug looked defiant, and stared at Andrew. A stance that seemed to last forever until finally he broke, tears streaming down his face. He nodded.

"How – how did you know?"



Andrew showed the handle of his magnifier, particularily where a faintly bluish crystal was glowing. "Magick has a signature, a resonance, which can be picked up by other objects, like this crystal. When you tried to get power from Dawn, this stone glowed like it is now. When I took it out of my pocket, I spelled it to block out my signature, and show only that magick that was already present. It's not exact, but when you wouldn't let me talk to your sisters in private, I kind of knew."

"You gotta believe me, I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't know."

"We'll talk about that later. Right now, I need to see the summoning spells you used. "

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Buffy would kill him if she knew what he was doing, so Andrew supposed it was a good thing she was out of town. The Smoking Sea Bass, what a name for a bar in Ohio, was, to say a word, smoky, and Andrew coughed as he pulled out his ID, and used the wallet to fan some of the smoke away as he entered looking around. He fervently hoped that this would be a short, and very infrequent, visit, but it was the only Demon Bar he knew of in Cleveland. Which was another thing he was sure Buffy would not be happy about. But he had made promises, and he didn't suppose Buffy could be too upset over that. Well at least not as long as he kept Dawn safe, and hat danger could she be in, sitting at home, watching TV with Caridad. Well there was the hellmouth, but that was not under his apartment building, he fervently hoped., as he headed for the bar.

"Little Man!" Startled, Andrew looked around to see one of the Fyarls, he'd employed, waving at him. "Come here, little man," the Fyarl grinned.

"Andrew," he said as he approached the demon's table. "My name is Andrew, not little man."

"Androo," the Fyarl said, "Little Man. My name Ras. Good to see you again."

"Ras," gulped Andrew. "Uh, you seen Scoops around?"

"Scoop?" Ras spat on the straw covered floor. "What you want with Scoop for?"

Before he could answer, a human waitress showed up and Andrew ordered a tonic water for himself and a beer for Ras..

"I hear if anyone knows anything Scoops would know." Andrew fished inside his pocket and pulled out the sketches of the demons Jasmine had drawn that morning, and showed them to Ras. "These demons kidnapped a human. I sort of promised I'd find her and get her back to her children."

Ras studied the sketches and threw them down in disgust. "Prexis, common muscle," he said disgustedly. "No mind. Not like Fyarl. Minions."

The waitress returned with their drinks, and when she left Andrew asked hopefully. "Do you know anything about them? Where I could find them?"

Ras snorted and shook his massive head. "Could find...maybe?"

Andrew sighed, pulled out his wallet and placed a twenty on the table. "You think you could find Scoops and bring him to my apartment?" Andrew placed a pasteboard card with his home address and number on it. "There'll be another twenty in it for you, when you deliver."

Ras snatched up the twenty. "Two days," he snarled. "You want him hurt? Free?"

"No," Andrew said hastily. "I just need to ask him a couple questions. So don't hurt him."

"No hurt, two days." Ras looked signicantly at his now empty glass and Andrew out the price of another on the table, before making a hasty get a way.

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"You're back." Caridad looked up from the TV when Andrew poked his head into their living room. "Dawn's gone to bed, and the wards are set. Xander phoned."

"Uh, what did he want?"

"Checking to see that Dawn was safe." Caridad rolled her eyes. "I told him she was fine, which seemed to make him happy. Anyway, he's going to be staying at the school for the next few days, and wants us to keep an eye on his apartment."

"Okay, we can do that." Caridad turned her eyes back to her program and Andrew went up to his room. A quick glance at the crystal on the table beside his bed showed that it was glowing normally, which meant that the wards were functioning normally, picking up Dawn's energy levels, and nothing else.

Sitting down at his table, Andrew engaged the Apple IIC he kept there for quick notes, and began on his log. Describing the day's activities, and ending with the following.

"Jasmine and I confiscated all the magickal books and stuff we could find, but it may be time to consider an educational program for people like Doug."