The first thing Buffy felt when she regained consciousness, were the chains that held her down to Methos' bed. She futilely attempted to break them, but realized that her strength, even her slayer strength had not yet returned to her. She looked around, but didn't see Methos anywhere, nor feel his immortal presence. She frowned.

Should I even be struggling? She wondered inwardly. What if I'm evil? I don't feel evil…

She puzzled for a moment, wondering whether she would actually know it if she were evil. She thought about Giles, Willow, Xander and the others. She thought about Angel and Methos, Joe, Duncan and Richie and realized that she wasn't, and couldn't be evil.

I love them too much, she thought as she tugged once more on her restraints. She sighed, wondering how she would be able to convince Methos of her non-evilness when she herself had questioned it.

And then she thought about what it would be like to finally go home. It was the deal she had made with Methos for if she beat Klossen and assuming that she could convince him to believe she was herself. She had been fairly certain she could beat Klossen, but the idea that she could beat the quickening had been up in the air and thus she could allow herself not to think about the consequences of going home just yet. She had told herself that she would think about it only if it became an issue, and now it seemed that she had all the time in the world to think about it, lying there tied to Methos' bed. Again.

She sighed as she suddenly felt the immortal buzz hit her, and heard the door close in the living room. Methos was obviously back.

"One thing I won't miss," she muttered as she tugged once more at the chains that bound her, "is waking up chained to this bed."

"Oh you're awake!" Methos sounded surprised as he entered the room. Buffy wondered if she actually detected a small note of fear in his eyes, or if that was just her mind playing tricks on her. She nodded.

"Yea….is that OK?" She wasn't sure what he was thinking, but some part of her knew he was trying to find signs of an evil Buffy. It was odd to think that he was looking at her now, trying to determine whether or not to kill her. "Is that a bad sign? Do I have like a…time limit or something?"

A small part of her actually feared him now, feared what she had-before with all confidence-asked him to do. She hadn't thought she might actually be able to beat the power of the quickening. It was so much easier contemplating Methos defeating her evil self than it was to think that he might kill her anyway if she couldn't convince him.

"How do you feel?" Methos' face was impassive and his voice light but she could tell by the intent gaze he was giving her that his thoughts were anything but casual. He's sizing me up! She thought with a slight start.

"I don't feel evil if that's what you're asking." She felt bad for sounding defensive, but she couldn't help herself. To know that the one person she had trusted implicitly since she got here was now calmly contemplating killing her rattled her more than she cared to admit. And it no longer mattered that she had chosen him for that very reason, or that she had asked him to. All she wanted was for him to look at her without the calculating gaze. She wanted to see him smile, hear the warmth in his tone, watch him slouch down into his chair with a beer in hand in a way that was totally Methos. "I do feel different though…"

She instantly regretted the comment however, when she saw the look of worry pass across his features. He's afraid of me, she thought sadly. She hated that feeling.

"Strong enough to break those chains?" He was frowning now, looking as if he wanted to tighten her restraints, but too fearful to get too close. She hated this. She hated the entire situation. She was torn between anger that he would be so cautious, gratefulness that he had taken her request so seriously and downright fear that he might actually kill her.

"Not yet," she said, hoping she sounded reassuring, rather than angry. "Don't look so worried, but…soon."

"Would you like something to drink?" Methos sat down, hoping that she couldn't sense the fear or uncertainty in his eyes. She seemed so much like Buffy, the Buffy he had grown to care about so very deeply. But it could be a trick. She could be playing on the emotions that he had so carelessly shown to her in order to gain his sympathies.

You were stupid, the voice in his head whispered. You let her get close and now she knows how to manipulate you.

She would never forgive him if he made the wrong decision and loosed her evil self on the population. And he would never forgive himself if he acted too rashly and killed her when she had actually managed to stay true to herself. He had an idea of how to figure out if it was really her or not, but was reluctant to try it. He knew how she would react and was stupid enough to want to protect his own heart from it.

People could die if you don't…she could die. He silenced the annoying voice and smiled what he hoped would be a neutral smile as he waited to see if she did indeed want him to get her something to drink.

"No, I'm good," she all but mumbled. He hated the look of hurt he could see on her face. He hated doing this to her…treating her like an enemy. After all she had done, after all she had gone through, she deserved better. And yet, this was the only way to be sure. She was still looking at him, but he refused to meet her gaze. "Why…why won't you look at me?"

He hung his head, ashamed that he had to behave this way.

"It's probably not a good idea." He finally told her after a long, uncomfortable pause. "If I did and assumed that you were you, and then I was wrong…"

"You don't trust me." This time she couldn't keep the hurt and anger out of her tone. She knew it was wrong, that she was over reacting and that he was only doing what she had asked, and yet she couldn't help it. He couldn't even look at her and it was tearing her apart.

"I don't trust myself," Methos admitted, his voice almost a whisper. She was shocked at the emotion in his voice. The idea that his sympathies might get in the way had occurred to her, but now she wondered to what extent they would interfere. How deeply did he really care for her? "Besides, you asked me not to."

She couldn't argue that. He was doing nothing wrong. She sat there for a moment, helpless to answer, knowing anything she said could be taken as her being indeed evil and trying to 'get out of it'. She felt helpless and she hated it.

"I beat it Methos," she finally told him her voice calm and quiet. "I did. I'm me. I don't know how to convince you of that, but it's true."

"I want to believe you," Methos confessed. He looked up only for a moment, but even in that, she glimpsed a fraction of the torture that swam in his eyes. "More than anything."

"Then why can't you?" She desperately wanted to be that easy. Like in the fairy tales when all the prince had to do was slip the glass slipper on Cinderella's foot to know it was her all along. She wanted it to be as easy as Methos looking into her eyes and knowing without any doubt that she was still here, and not evil. She wanted it so badly it hurt.

"Let me ask you this," Methos was speaking calmly, rationally now, trying desperately to ignore the whirlwind of emotions he experienced upon seeing the troubled look in her beautiful eyes. "If you were lying to me right now….if this were a trick, would you-the real you-expect me to just believe you without proof? Would you want me to release you based on a few convincing words and looks?"

"No," Buffy answered honestly, realizing that she meant at least that much. "I'd want you to be sure. But I know that! That means I have to be me, right? I mean, if I'm willing to admit that…"

"Maybe," Methos acknowledged with a slight nod of his head. He suddenly had the absurd feeling of being in a Monty Python film, this conversation was getting so ridiculous. "Except that evil you would know that good you would say that and would likely say what you just said right now to make me think you were good."

"What are you, the Riddler?" She exclaimed in exasperation. Methos almost smiled.

"I want to be sure." His voice was soft, but firm. He would not let her down, however much it hurt.

"How can I…" her voice sounded small, like that of a frightened child. He longed to comfort her, but kept his strength about him. "How can I convince you then? What can I do?"

"Nothing," he admitted, knowing for sure now the inevitability of his plan. He had to do what he had originally intended. There was no other way. "You can't. I'm sorry, but there's nothing you can say that I can trust."

"Then…how can we fix this?" She sounded even more frightened now…on the verge of panic. It might be a trick he told himself. "Methos, please I don't want to die. You can believe that, if nothing else."

She was almost begging now, but she couldn't help it. He truly meant to kill her if she couldn't convince him and then claimed there was nothing she could say or do to do so. She did not want to die for nothing, not after all she had done. She wanted to go home. She hadn't realized it until now, just how desperately. She had to stay alive. She had to!

"I have a plan," Methos finally said with a sigh that sounded almost regretful. What does he have in mind? "But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

"Why should I, when you can't trust me?" It was supposed to be a biting retort, but it came out instead almost a croak. She felt a lump in her throat and resisted the urge to cry.

"With all due respect, I'm not the one who might be evil." Methos paused after saying that and then added, "this time anyway."

"What do I do?" She drew a shuddering breath and steeled herself for whatever he might request. He simply smiled sadly.

"Just close your eyes." He looked at her intently. "Can you do that?"

It had come full circle, she realized. Karma and all that. She had asked the very same thing of Angel and committed the ultimate betrayal and yet it had been him that had saved her fighting Klossen, she was sure of it. It made no logical sense-Angel was dead and yet, she had felt him, sensed him. He had told her what to do and it had saved her. Did she trust Methos as much as Angel? Or was he too much like herself? More importantly, did she have a choice?

The answer to the latter part, was no. She closed her eyes and waited.

Methos hesitated, even as she closed her eyes and then drew on his courage. Moving close to her on the bed, he took her small hand in his. He wasn't sure how to say this. He wasn't sure how to admit it to himself, let alone her. And regardless of her reaction he would be the one that would be hurt from it. It was a no-win situation. Methos hated those. He usually went with the winner.

"Buffy I…" he paused, trying to think of the best way to say it. When he realized there was no best way, he plunged ahead. "I think I'm falling for you. I might…I might love you. I didn't mean to. God knows it's the last thing I need, but…well there it is. Don't say anything. Don't answer me, just…let me…"

He leaned in, and tentatively pressed his lips to hers. The kiss sent shocks of electricity through him left over from the quickening, but what was even more shocking was the emotion that coursed through him as she opened her lips to his and accepted his kiss.

She couldn't think. She couldn't speak, even if she wanted to. His voice had been husky and sincere. His soft, welsh accent had deepened as he spoke of his feelings causing her heart to race with fear and something else she couldn't define. And then he kissed her.

Buffy's mind was racing as she felt Methos' lips touch hers with velvet softness. Too shocked to react, she let her body do the talking and allowed him to kiss her. He was amazing with his lips, with the softness of his tongue. If this was what five thousand years has taught him about kissing think of what…

Close your eyes…

"No!" She didn't even remember yelling it, but she must have because before she knew it, she had wrenched away from him as much as the restraints would allow and found herself head butting him as she had no free hands to slap him.

He reeled backwards clutching his forehead in pain. Buffy couldn't believe what she had done. She hadn't meant to hurt him, but the image of Angel had come unbidden to her mind even as her pulse raced from kissing another man and she hadn't been able to control her reaction.

"I'm sorry!" She exclaimed, terrified that her violent action would cause him to either think she hated him, or worse that she was evil. "I didn't mean to…I mean, you kissed me and I freaked. Not because of you…I mean, the kiss…it was….well it wasn't icky. I mean, it really wasn't icky, but it wasn't…y'know…him and I know I'm not all with the guilt anymore, but I still love him and I can't kiss anybody else, no matter how sexy and non-icky they are or how much I trust them. And I do trust you Methos, and care about you so I don't want to hurt you, or make you think that I'm evil cause I'm not, I swear I'm just…"

"Buffy…"

"…afraid that I hurt you, well I did physically but I mean…"

"Buffy…"

"…mentally, cause then you might think I'm bad, or worse hate me, and I really don't want you to hate me cause…"

"Buffy…"

"…I'm your friend and I…"

"Buffy!"

She blinked at the force in his tone.

"What?"

"Calm down." He was smiling now, which Buffy took as a good sign. She relaxed slightly and watched him rub his head once more, likely more out of reflex than any residual pain. She realized belatedly that hers was hurting quite a bit as well, and allowed herself a wince. "It's OK. I know. I mean, I understand. I trust you."

With those simple words, he started to undo her restraints.

"What?" She couldn't keep the shock out of her voice. Had he lied to her? Had this all been some weird trick? Part of her was disappointed to think it was.

Methos smiled patiently. He wouldn't let her know just how relieved and hurt he was by her reaction at the same time. He was grateful for it beyond words, and knew that it was for the best, and yet his heart refused to let the disappointment and ache leave him. He shook it off and spoke with what he hoped was a casual tone.

"Only you-the real you-would have reacted that way." He finished undoing the final restraint and sat back with a sigh. "If you were lying I think you would have gone along with it in the hopes of getting released. I knew you weren't ready for it Buffy. I knew. And I knew you would be honest if you weren't."

"So…what you said….you were lying? This was all an attempt to see if I was still me?" She didn't mean to sound hurt. She didn't mean to sound disappointed. She didn't want Methos in love with her. It was too complicated that way, especially since she was going home. And yet there was a small part of her that knew that whatever she and Methos had was more than friendship.

"I…" Methos paused, not wanting to lie to her, but not wanting to burden her with the truth. "I don't want to answer that OK? Let's just leave it. I understand how you feel. I'm glad I was right. I am glad you reacted the way you did…more glad than you know."

Buffy didn't know how to respond to that. Methos hadn't said he actually loved her, but neither had he said he didn't. She searched herself, and realized that she was happy with the non-answer. Her own feelings were too alien to her at the moment to deal with that on top of everything and yet the possibility gave her cause to smile. Maybe someday…

"So now what?" She smirked as she rubbed her wrists to get the feeling to return to them. "Is this the happily-ever-after?"

"I don't know." Methos said gently. "That's up to you. You remember your promise?"

"Yea," she sighed heavily. "I beat the bad guy, I go home. That was the deal."

"I will miss you Buffy." He didn't try to hide the emotion in his voice that time.

"Yea, me too." She sat up, feeling suddenly shaky in a way that caught her off guard. "Hey Methos…you still have that beer in the fridge? I think maybe I do want a drink."

"What about the giant demon snake?" He grinned his old grin and found her answering back with one. His heart lightened.

"I'll take my chances."