After Giles finished talking to Claude Marcel, Dawn was finally able to call Connor. When he hung up, Connor just lay back in bed, smiled and looked at the ceiling.

"Well?," Angel asks after ten seconds of absurd silence.

"Everyone's fine. They're underground. Old people left in town."

"Where underground?"

"An underground house. Dawn said it belongs to Giles's girlfriend. I didn't know he had a girlfriend."

"Neither did I." For Angel, the words "Giles" and "girlfriend" in the same sentence bring back unwelcome memories of killing Jenny Calendar.

"She had a prophecy. Not like Dawn's. Some family thing. But that's why they got everyone out. She knew the town was about to blow up."

"A vision?"

"No. I told you it wasn't like Dawn's. But Dawn did have a vision."

"Just now?"

"In the afternoon."

"Oh no. We might be too late to help."

"It was about Sunnydale. She said that after the earthquake, the town was already destroyed. Everyone thought it was over and they were walking around outside. Then she saw the wave and knew something else was coming. She told Buffy, and everyone got back inside in time. Because of Dawn." Connor smiles. "And me, I guess."

"Why would the Powers send her a vision that's not meant to help us?," Angel wonders. This would set something of a precedent. Connor doesn't quite see it that way.

"Buffy not dying helps us. Okay, it helps you." Angel frowns. "And what about Faith? Or Willow? They've helped us. Letting 'em all get crushed by some wave would be pretty lame."

"The Powers have never lifted a finger to help Buffy," Angel notes bitterly, remembering how she died when he was in Pylea.

"She can't fight the ocean."

Angel finds this cryptic, even by Connor's standards. "Have you been reading by books on eastern philosophy?"

Connor doesn't know why Angel can't understand him. "She fights demons. A snake wants to swallow her, she can kill it. But if the ocean wants to swallow her, she's helpless. Slayers are warriors. There supposed to go down fighting. Wouldn't be fair to let the water kill her. Don't you think?"

"I suppose. Although it would be the first time that fairness played a role in Buffy's life."

"Please," Connor replies dismissively. "Like she's had it so hard." Angel's about to respond to Connor's insensitivity, but thinks better of getting into a debate about hard-knock lives with Connor. Meanwhile, Dawn slowly walks back to the couch and sits down. Something is clearly on her mind.

"What's wrong?," Buffy asks.

"Nothing's wrong."

"That boy must have said something."

"You're not going to believe this."

"Try us," Xander replies. "At this point, what could possibly shock us?"

"You know how Angel lives in a hotel? It's filled up. Completely filled up. With people from Sunnydale."

"That was a nice thing for Angel to do," Giles comments approvingly. "Aiding people in their time of utmost need."

"Is he charging them?," Anya asks.

"Angel would never do that," Willow insists.

"For now, he's not," Dawn responds. "Cordelia wants to."

"No surprise there," Buffy adds.

"So do some of the others," Dawn continues. "Connor said Angel's thinking about making them pay if they stay for a long time. This took all of them by surprise."

"It took everyone by surprise," Giles points out. "Except, of course, for Stella," he notes with a smile.

Spike starts chuckling. "Poor Angel. Sharing his home with complete strangers. This is his worst nightmare. He'll be back to living underground in no time."

"How many people are we talking about?," Buffy asks.

"About half my grade," Dawn meekly answers. "Plus their families. Connor said more than five hundred people."

"Angel's must be going out of his bloody mind," Spike gleefully assumes.

"Five hundred!," Buffy exclaims. "How big is this place?"

"About half a city block," Xander informs her. "Five stories. Two very extensive basement levels. Angel owes me big time. Building was a disaster area before I fixed it up."

"That's true," Anya adds in agreement. "If that lobby still looked like it did when I saw it, no one would be staying there. The people would have run away screaming." Willow nods, remembering the extent of the damage she and Cordy caused.

"But that's wut Angel would've wanted," Spike observes. "Xander, you didn't do him a favor. You just helped make his life even more miserable than it already was."

"And I provided shelter to hundreds of people without homes. Which makes it a win-win situation from where I sit."

"Plus, you got paid," Anya recalls.

"Even better."

"Why did they all go to Angel's?," Buffy wonders. "How did they even know where he lived? Everyone looks at Dawn.

"Me? Why me?"

"You went to school with them," Buffy points out.

"You're right. Of course it was me. Once I heard the town was getting flattened, I spent all morning on the phone with my friends. All of you saw me doing it. Right around the time the phones weren't working."

"Point taken," Giles concedes. "Though I could have done with a tad less sarcasm."

"Then who was it?," Buffy asks. "Who else knew?"

"Elijah knew," Spike responds, to everyone's surprise. "He's a nice kid. We chatted last week about a trip he took up there."

"Why are you hanging around with my sister's friends?," a worried Buffy demands to know.

"I'm stuck in the house when the sun's out. The boy comes over and starts talking me up. Is that my fault? Would you rather have me bite him?"

"Eli thinks Spike's cool," Dawn explains with a scowl. "I'm sure it's just a phase."

"So it's his fault," Buffy concludes. "I didn't know Eli had that many friends."

"He just told Kit. She just told Carlos. He just told Denise."

"Ahhh, the classic high school phone tree," Xander observes. "The same way everyone knows which kid's throwing a party on Friday night because his parents are out of town."

"Is Preston there?," Amanda asks Dawn.

"What about Clarence?," Rona wonders.

"And Prashant?," Madari chimes in.

"Connor said they're all there. He's pretty happy that Kit and Eli and the rest of his friends are around."

"There's a rest of?," Xander asks with astonishment. "I guess Connor has better social skills than his words, actions or personality would lead you to believe."

"It's like one big dorm," Willow realizes. "With high school kids. And a vampire, his son, and their demon-fighting friends."

"What could possibly go wrong?," Giles asks rhetorically.

"Less than you'd expect," Spike counters. "The place is demon-proofed. Thanks to me. I went to all that trouble to protect the house. For two weeks!"

"Poor you. All that orgying for nothing," Anya quips.

"Where to?," Faith asks Lindsey as he drives out of Lompoc.

"I was thinking breakfast on the coast. The Gulf Coast. I know a nice place south of the border, near Veracruz."

"Seriously, Lindsey."

"I am serious. The omelettes are great. And the mangoes are literally right off the tree."

"Quit joking. You know I only got tonight."

"That's why we're taking the jet. Things go according to plan, we'll be able to touch down for an hour and still get you back by nine."

"You are serious."

"I sort of neglected to find a place to stay for the night. Which makes this kind of our only option. And since if we're gonna be stuck in a plane, we might as well go somewhere. Seemed like a good idea when I thought it up."

"Taking me for a spin in your jet. Do you do this to impress all your girlfriends?"

"Of course. Which would make you the first. Let me know if it works, for future reference," he adds jokingly.

Faith looks up and laughs in disbelief. "I just came from a bunker in a town that doesn't exist anymore. But was full of people and buildings yesterday. And I'll wake up tomorrow in another country."

"Wake up? Who said anything about going to sleep?"

"Has it only been two weeks? Cause, by now, it feels like you're from another lifetime. The one in my dreams that's too good to be true."

"I figured you'd be used to surprises by now."

"Not the good kind."

"You ever been to Mexico before?"

"Almost. Back when I wanted to run away from my problems."

"What stopped you?"

"Didn't have anyone to run away with."

"I can't take this anymore," Lorne confides to Angel after helping him return to his room. "I'm not going to live as a prisoner in my own house. In your house, I mean"

"So you're heading back to your apartment. I understand."

"Spoken like a true non-empath. I'm going downstairs. I'm walking through the lobby. Or, wherever else I please. And if your uninvited visitors don't like it, that's their problem."

"Please tell me you're not serious."

"Serious as a heart attack. Which, to a guy with your heart condition, must mean absolutely nothing. Let me put it to you this way. I've been around humans for a long time. And the sight of my face has never caused them to run away screaming. I'm not the Elephant Man. Heck, I'm not even Michael Jackson. Trust me. They'll hardly notice. These people already got enough on their minds. Seeing me would hardly be the weirdest thing that's happened to them today."

"When Cordy came back without her memory, we learned how hard it was to hide what goes on in this place. Which is one of the reasons I would have done more to turn these people away, get them rooms in real hotels. If I were healthy."

"That's right. You can't stop me. Thanks for reminding me, chief." Lorne walks to the door.

"Lorne, wait. It's fine if you come as go like you always do. But try not to make a scene."

"A scene? Moi? Hey, I hate being set upon by an angry mob as much as the next guy. Okay, probably more so, considering how the next guy has the power to fight them off. No trouble. Hey, you know me – always riding the waves, never making them." Lorne leaves. A few seconds later, Cordy enters.

"The place is finally starting to quiet down. And get this – a lot of the girls know who I am. I actually was a legend in Sunnydale! In a good way. Not the bad, I killed someone's family sort of way that you're used to. By the way, I passed by Lorne when I got off the elevator. Is he going downstairs to get you more blood?"

"Lorne's decided to make an appearance in the lobby."

"But there are still a lot of people down there."

"I think that was the idea." Cordy looks quite alarmed.

"And you let him?"

"How was I going to stop him?" Cordelia rushes downstairs. When Lorne enters the lobby, there are about twenty teenagers and a dozen adults talking to each other in groups of two or three or four. Lorne holds his head high and struts by them, proudly and slowly. Almost immediately, heads start to turn. He can hear the whispering. Lorne speeds up. Soon, there's pointing. Lorne climbs the steps and is reaching for the door, relieved that this ordeal is over, when two teenage girls rush up to him. One of them touches his right arm.

"Excuse me," she says. Lorne warily turns his head to the right to look at them. "Are you a singer?"

Expecting a vastly different question, Lorne takes several seconds to respond. "Why yes. Yes I am."

"Were you at the Bronze – in Sunnydale – last month?"

Lorne smiles and turns to face them. "You saw my performance? Well, it was more of a cameo." As Lorne waxes falsely modest, the two girls run away. They return with a few more kids, and their parents. The elevator door opens, and Cordy gets out. On the other side of the lobby, she sees a crowd of people rushing towards Lorne. She ducks into the office, where Wesley and Fred are at the computer, trying to put together a spread sheet to keep track of all this new business.

"We have a big problem," she informs them.

"You mean the acute shortage of towels?," Wesley asks.

"Lorne's come out."

"I thought he was straight," Fred responds. "Especially after he told us about his thing for Vengeance Demons."

"And their blood larva," Wesley adds.

"No. That's not what I meant. He's in the lobby! Getting attacked by people. Blood larva?"

"The demons cost coat their bodies with it," Wesley explains.

"Can we forget about blood larva for now?," Fred pleads.

"Gladly," Wesley concurs.

"We need to save him," Cordy beseeches them. "Sunnydale people aren't used to cuddly demons." The three of them rush to the door. Then Wesley stops.

"Hold on. They can't harm him in here."

Cordy opens the door and looks across the room. All she sees are the backs of the heads of more and more people rushing forward – and through the front door. "What about the courtyard?," she asks.

"That ain't covered," Fred replies. The three of them hurry over to help him, but can't get through the mob. "They don't sound angry," Fred notes.

Wesley gets on the tiptoes of his good foot and peers over their heads. "I see Lorne. He's laughing."

Cordy listens carefully to the noises. "I don't believe it." She heads back inside, followed by Fred and Wes. "He's a celebrity. Green skin, horns, dated fashion sense. How does he get to be a star and I don't?"

"I don't know," Fred offers meekly. "Maybe because he's a better singer?"

"Yes," Cordy concedes. "If you're living in some Bizarro-L.A. where talent matters more than looks." She pauses. "How would they know he can sing?"

Angel wakes up in a strange, cold place. "Oh no. Not again." He's sitting on a white marble floor. In front of him are a familiar-looking man and woman with silver skin and wearing classical garb. He stands up. "Been a while. I usually come to you." Angel stands up.

"And I usually do not," replies a third man who walks into the room. He's much older than the other two. His skin is gold and his hair and long beard are a shiny silver. He stares at Angel with his pale blue eyes.

"You know what happened to last guy who abducted me? Course you do. That's your job."

"We expected you to come here of your own accord seven nights ago," the old man tells Angel. "Someone got in the way."

"That was the least of his crimes."

"Why did you leave your room that night? I trust you had a reason for running into the street."

"He had someone put a spell on me. To lure me outside so he could ambush me. It made me feel like, well, almost like I was losing my soul. But it was only a trick."

"No it wasn't." Now Angel looks very confused. "The vampire did nothing to you. But he knew about it in advance. He had connections, and he exploited them to catch you by surprise." The old man shakes his head. "It's almost impossible to plug every leak."

"Can we get on with this?," a cranky Angel suggests. "I'm sure that speaking with you is a rare honor, but I'm really not in the mood for oracular filler. You brought me here for a reason. Cut to the chase."

"Something did happen to your soul that night. It lost its curse."

Overwhelmed by this claim, Angel takes a few seconds to let it sink in. "Would you mind repeating that?"

"Situations change. With the passage of time, certain circumstances become untenable."

"That's not possible. You can't - "

"You know what we can do. This is nothing."

"And why should I believe you? You're not exactly in the habit of doing me favors. Screwing me over, on the other hand."

"Think of this as our apology. A way of balancing the scales."

"That doesn't even begin to make sense. And you didn't answer my question. A skeptic might say you're trying to trick me. We both know what happens if I make the mistake of believing you."

"That would be a rather transparent trick. One I know you to be too smart to fall for."

"Cheap flattery aside, you still haven't given me an answer."

"Have we ever lied to you? That is our answer."

"You're going to have to do better."

"It is not my job to convince. Only to tell."

The old man reaches out and puts his right thumb to Angel's forehead. He exhales, blowing a foggy mist onto Angel's face. It causes his eyelids to shut, and he goes back to sleep.

The rooming arrangements in the back half of the bunker are as follows: Fadila, Ariella, Madari and Rona are in the room on the far left. Twenty by fifteen feet, and with four beds, it's by far the best accommodations any of them has had in months. Next to them are Amanda and Dawn. Giles and Andrew are in the center room, across from the two bathrooms. On the near right are Xander and Anya (in separate beds), and on the far right are Willow and Kennedy (not in separate beds). Spike's claimed the small Santos family shelter for his crypt. Buffy didn't sleep well. Neither did Giles. Both of them are up early. Giles takes advantage of the peace and quiet and does his research in the empty living room. At 8:30, Buffy, who's already been up for two hours and is very bored, checks in on Spike. He hears the metal door shut and wakes up. "Buffy. Is something wrong?"

"Yes. But nothing new."

"Then why did you wake me?"

"I dunno. Guess I felt lonely." Spike's sitting up in bed. He's naked, with a sheet covering the lower half of his body.

"This isn't exactly the best timing, but if you're game," he says with a sly grin. She knows he's joking, and sits down on the other bed.

"Sorry. The Potentials might wake up, wonder where I am."

"Wouldn't want to traumatize the kiddies. Is that it?" There's a few seconds pause.

"So. How'd you sleep?"

"Okay. Till you woke me. You?"

"No. Too worried."

"Why? You know what's next. Big set-piece battle. You try a few new tricks. Hopefully one of them works before we're all dead."

"To you, it's like a coin-flip. A roll of the dice. Which one, by the way? Cause the second's far more of a long shot."

"Sure, it's a game of craps. But you're throwing loaded die. House always loses when you're at the table."

"Something tells me this one's a little more complicated."

"In the end, it always boils down to kill or be killed. Buffy, fretting's not going to help you win."

"I know. But Giles can." Buffy leaves to check on the latest research. Spike goes back to sleep. She gets a cup of coffee and joins him in the living room.

"I've found something."

"Good or bad?"

"All information is good. Better to know the bad news ahead of time."

"So it's bad."

"Possibly. It's called the Pearl Merv. The name's a misnomer. It's a two foot-wide sphere of polished white marble containing several veins of Lapis Lazuli. Legends claim it was found intact more than four thousand years ago in a granite quarry. Simply fell out of the rock face, naturally shiny and perfectly spherical. The early Chorasmian civilizations worshipped it, believing it possessed great magical powers. They were right. Over the next fifteen centuries, it was reportedly used to sap the power from hundreds of dangerous demons. But by the Achaemenid period, it had vanished. Possibly destroyed or stolen, but more likely hidden. This book says that the First will try to use the Merv Marble to capture the power of the Slayer line."

"Meaning no more Slayers. Any clue how they'll do this? Or, better yet, how I can stop them?"

"Use of the stone requires some sort of sacrifice. But before that can happen, our enemies have to find this object and transport it to Sunnydale."

"What makes you think it hasn't been here all along?"

"It's mystically radioactive. Someone would have sensed its presence. But remember, power is double-edged. We could turn it against Nina. In fact it could be the key to defeating her."

"So all you know for now is that it's a big, pretty rock that raises the stakes?"

"I'll find out more. That I promise you."

"I know you will. Sorry if I'm a pain. I've never been good at waiting."

"Speaking of which, it's 9:15. Faith should have been back by now."

By ten, everyone's awake. The Potentials are in their pajamas, eating breakfast in the kitchen. Everyone else is dressed, eating in the dining room or watching television in the living room. "8.6 on the Richter scale," Xander reports.

"Is that a a record around here?," Giles asks.

"The most powerful recorded earthquake in American history," Andrew answers. "The New Madrid quake was at least an 8, but we don't know exactly how big it was because they didn't have seismographs in 1811."

"The Hellmouth finishes second to none," Xander jokes.

"What about the tsunami?," Giles inquires. He's been too busy with his book to watch the news. Xander explains.

"About an hour before our earthquake, there was a huge tremor several hundred miles out at sea."

"What convenient timing," Giles notes. "And if I hear anyone utter the words Perfect Storm,' I just might be moved to slug them." Xander and Andrew both look disappointed. It was right on the tips of their tongues. The phone rings. Dawn picks it up.

"Hello? Okay. I'll tell him. No, you didn't miss anything." She hangs up.

"What was that?," Buffy asks.

"Nothing. Just Faith. She's back. Someone's gotta push the button to let her in."

"It's about time," Giles says as he walks over to the front door and presses the button that causes the entrance to pop up out of the ground. "I was beginning to worry."

"Worry about what?," Buffy asks jokingly. "That she'd left the country?"

"Guess this is goodbye," Faith says mournfully as she and Lindsey stand outside.

"For now," he answers with a tinge of optimism. She kisses him for a while, then opens the door.

"You wanna come in for sec?"

"I'm sure everyone down there's really busy."

"Try really bored." He follows her down the stairs. She opens the other door, and they enter. Andrew turns away from the television, sees them and gasps.

"Lindsey!" He leaps off the couch. Lindsey looks around.

"Not bad for a dugout. Plenty of people would pay good money to live in something this nice." Upon hearing Andrew's yell, the Potentials race in from the kitchen, in their pajamas.

"Hi," Amanda says while nervously fiddling with her wet shower hair. "Gosh. If I had known we were getting visitors, I would have put on something nicer." Madari, Fadila, Ariella and Rona feel the same way.

"I hope you didn't run into any problems on the way in," Giles says, referring to demons and agents of the First.

"There was some fog while we were preparing to land, but other than that, no," Lindsey responds.

"Land?," Buffy asks.

"Wait a minute," Giles begins. Then he hears a knock at the door.

"Spike. You wanna get that?," Lindsey suggests.

"Not really."

"Yes you do."

Spike rolls his eyes and groans. "Bloody hell." He doesn't know where this is leading. But if it's some sort of practical joke, he can always punch Lindsey. Spike opens the door. Two soldiers pick up a three gallon cylindrical plastic carton and hand it off to Spike. They close the door and walk away. At first, Spike's annoyed. Then he notices the container is full of a dark red liquid. He smiles like a kid on Christmas morning. "You brought me blood! Thank you. I love you." Spike carries it towards the kitchen, but turns around after a few steps. "You know I didn't mean anything by that last part. I'm just famished."

"It was Kelly's idea. So she's the one you should be saying I love you' to."

"Kel really does care about me," Spike says with a smile. As usual, Buffy's annoyed by how easily Faith's boyfriend charms everyone.

"Nice seeing all you fine people again, but I need to be getting home," Lindsey announces.

"Where's that?," Madari asks.

"Mississippi." Faith kisses him for a few more seconds, and Lindsey leaves. The girls are still swooning.

"He came more than halfway across the country just to see you for one night," Amanda says to Faith.

"That is so romantic," Rona adds. Buffy rolls her eyes and goes to the other end of the room. Faith relishes being the center of attention.

"Where did he take you?," Madari wonders. Faith sits on a couch. The Potentials sit and stand around her.

"For breakfast. In Mexico."

"Wow," Fadila adds in amazement.

"Where in Mexico?," Ariella asks.

"I forget the name. It was on the other coast. Wasn't important. Just an excuse for the plane ride. He redid the cabin. Took out the seats. Put a queen-size bed in back. I told him he didn't have to go to all that trouble for just one date." Buffy goes into her room to escape all the cooing over Faith's "super-boyfriend." She finally does feel like sleeping, and lies down for a nap.

Angel wakes up. Someone's slapping him. He opens his eyes. It's Cordelia.

"Wake up, sleepy head. It's 12:30."

"Sorry. I didn't know it was so late."

"Normally this wouldn't be a problem. But Channel Four just called. They're sending over a crew. It should be hear by one."

Angel looks confused. "Why? What's happened. Did someone in this die?"

"Yes. You. But that was a long time ago. Sunnydale getting squashed is a big national story. The local station wants to do a puff piece on the Good Samaritan who's putting all these stranded people up for free."

"I didn't do anything. They came here on their own. All I did was not kick them out."

"Think of it as karmic. You've helped a lot of people in this town, but never got any credit for it. Now you're finally a hero. So what if it's for something you didn't really do? You deserve it. Now shower, brush your teeth, do something about that bad breath, and what's that mark on your forehead?"

"What mark?"

"That big red thing."

Angel touches his forehead. Some of it comes off. It's from the Oracle. Evidently that wasn't a dream.