A young woman in her early twenties with eyes like a snake and golden ringlets smiled happily at her partner.

"Found one," she said.

"Well, that's just swell."

The woman spun on her expensive heels and glared at two of her subordinates. They stood taller and she pursed her deep red lips.

"Hello? Go get her?" She snapped.

When they scampered out of the room, she smiled garishly.

Something was wrong. Buffy glanced around the empty circus tent anxiously as she finished packing some equipment for the night.

Glancing up at the small aureole of twilight she could see above her, Buffy bit her lip and walked outside. Suddenly, she heard a muffled yelp from behind a gaggle of elm trees.

Buffy ran towards the noise and witnessed Gwen shoving a man backwards with an electric blue blast from her bare hands. He flew backwards and fell down dead.

"Look out!" Buffy yelled a second too late as another man struck Gwen over the head with a baseball bat.

As Gwen fell like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Buffy rushed into the fray and, for the first time in her life, used her strange powers in a fight. Swinging her fists and kicking wildly, she managed to take down another two men. One stayed down, the other unsteadily got to his feet as Buffy turned and launched herself at the man who was quickly tying Gwen's gloved hands together with rope.

Behind her, three other men started to circle.

Spike kissed Drusilla pleasantly on the hand and she smiled back politely. Not being very sociable, Spike recently found himself hanging around the crazy fortune teller. He enjoyed the surreal atmosphere of her small tent and her Victorian behaviourisms; they intrigued him when the surreal life of a circus performer just wasn't surreal enough. Walking away from the dark blue tent decorated with silver and gold stars, Spike glanced up at where the real stars should be.

Of course, this was California. No stars to be seen. Spike sharply looked towards the trees as a thud reached his ears.

Moving quickly but as quietly as he could, he approached the secluded gathering and saw Buffy, hair gold and wild, her fists up and ready as she stood protectively over Gwen's prone body. Very brave of her, Spike noted, considering the group of men stalking menacingly towards her.

He quickly counted six men still standing and sighed; these weren't the best odds but that never stopped him before.

Flying, fists-first, into the battle, Spike threw a punch that knocked a man out cold before he even registered what was happening.

Spike soon found himself back-to-back with Buffy near Gwen as they haphazardly fought their attackers. Finally, all the men were either unconscious, dead, or had run away. Panting like crazy, Buffy and Spike put their fists down and let the adrenaline flow out of them.

Spike was leaning over, his hands on his knees as he tried to regain control of his breathing. Buffy had her hands on her hips as she tilted her head back, her mouth open and gasping in air.

She glanced over at Spike. He looked back. Slowly, their mouths still open as they breathed heavily, they moved towards each other. She slid her hands up onto his sweaty shoulders and his slid around her waist as they lowered themselves to the grass, Spike on top.

Her feet slid up and down his calves as he stroked her soft, kitten hips and undid the fly on her denim shorts, before moving on to undo his own jeans.

She pulled his head down to hers so their open mouths could meet. And then Buffy stopped trying to think of how strange this was, stopped trying to think of anything.

Glory stomped her foot angrily in her lavishly-decorated foyer as one of her cronies reported that they had not completed their task.

"Why the hell not!" She yelled.

"Now, Glory, language. I'll have no swearing in this house," her partner chided in a fatherly tone that was starting to grate Glory's nerves.

"Richard, don't talk to me like I'm a child. I hate when you do that," she said, rounding on him.

"I know, sweetie-pie. I'm sorry."

Glory turned back around to glare at her subordinate. But Richard Wilkins III spoke before she could say anything.

"Did you at least learn anything useful?" He asked in his usual chipper tone.

"Yes sir. There are two other Sunnydale Orphanage escapees located at the circus besides the Raiden girl. We've identified them as Female # 13 and Male # 27."

Richard nodded his head pensively for a minute before saying optimistically to his girlfriend:

"There see, this escapade wasn't a total waste."

Glory rolled her eyes affectionately.

"Female # 13...I remember her: Buffy. She was rooming with my Faith at the institution. If anybody knows where my girl is, she will."

"I think I can help you with that," a Southern voice drawled from the door.

Glory and Richard's heads snapped towards the front door. They were irritated with themselves that someone could have gotten inside without their noticing.

"With what? And who are you?" Glory questioned, her eyes narrowing.

"Name's Caleb. I've got a proposition for you that I think y'all will like."