"So let me just . . .see if I understand: Quinn, right?"

He nodded.

"Quinn made this wormhole -- in his basement -- that lets you travel to other worlds."

"No, Oz," Professor Arturo said, "not to other worlds but to other Earths."

"So the same Earth but . . .different."

Quinn scooted forward in his seat. "Not quite different, at least not the Earths closest to the one you're from. As you get further away from your home Earth there are more variations."

"So more differences."

"Right."

"Ah." Oz took the water bottle Wade offered him. "Thanks."

She too took a seat beside Quinn. "Rembrant's really sorry about your bumper. He's seeing if he can get it fixed right now."

"And I'm reprogramming the timer so that the next time we leap it'll be to your home Earth," Quinn added.

"When are you guys going home?" Oz asked. "Or are you explorers?"

A look passed between the Professor, Wade and Quinn. "We're sorta . . ." Wade looked for a nice way to put it. She looked to Quinn for help. "It's okay, Wade." He turned to Oz. "Basically we're lost and, well, basically it's my fault. It didn't occur to me to mark our home coordinates. I was just so happy that I had pulled it off and . . ."

"You're looking for a way home?"

"Yeah."

Arturo got up for a glass of water. "Don't be so hard on yourself Mr. Mallory. We were all excited by your discovery. Any one of us should have been thinking of a way home, but we weren't. And here we are."

"Here we are," Wade repeated.

They turned to the door because Oz did. "Hey guys, I found a guy who can fix the van. Q-ball, how long you said we have here?"

"Uh," Quinn checked the timer, "a little over a week."

"Good. My guy said he'd have it done in three days. Oz! My man! How's it going? Got your baby in the shop and jobs for all of us."

Wade jumped up and hugged Remy. "Why didn't you say so? That's great! Where at?"

*

"I love nightclubs." Buffy turned to Oz. "Why don't we go out more often?"

Oz spun Buffy back around and nuzzled her neck. "You attract too much attention."

"Don't you like beating back the boys with a stick?"

"No."

"Spoilsport. 'C-call me . . .baby when you need me,'" Buffy lip-synched as she led Oz through the crowd. "'You don't have to worry. We can do . . .something.'"

Bodies parted around them as if they sensed something inherently dangerous in the way the couple walked: the men watched Buffy's swaying hips . . .and a number of women. Oz scanned the crowd. "What are you looking for?"

"I always look."

"Oz, darling . . .loosen up! Come on, this is about fun. Stop thinking about Them, about Her. We've got that covered," she reminded him as she rubbed her boy, catlike, along his. " 'If I was your girl all the things I'd do to you. I'd make you call out my name. I'd ask who it belongs to-o.'"

"Spike."

"Um, no. Not really my speed. He's so . . .not warm-blooded. Ooh, but you are."

Oz pulled Buffy away from her prospect. "No. Spike. There."

"Now what's he doing here?"