Dawn begins to assemble a profile of Devlin, while Buffy and Giles trade theories about Angel. Back in California, Debbie is attacked by a werewolf, even though there is no full moon.

On Saturday afternoon, Dawn sits in the corner of the training room, looking over faxes of the x-rays Giles received from California. Buffy's at the other end of the room, taking out her frustration on a punching bag. Giles stands in the middle of the room, talking on the phone. "Andrew's loss would be regretted, but our first concern is the Slayers. Do what you must to get them home, and to get us back in business." He hangs up. "I have good news, Buffy. It looks as if the Justice Department is beginning to recognize that these charges are trumped up. Gretch is confident that she can dispose of the matter by Monday."

"And Dana?"

"That is a separate matter. We've conceded that we have her. Whether she must be returned is a state, not a federal, matter."

"I won't let them send her back to an institution."

"I get the feeling someone else would assume custody."

Buffy stops punching and steps away from the bag. "No. They can't."

"We did."

"Perfect. Evil Incorporated uses the government to get their dirty hands on a Slayer."

"It bolsters my theory about who is behind this. Wolfram & Hart weren't just avenging their defeat. They are seeking to undo it."

"And maiming a lot of innocent girls in the process."

"I think I see a pattern," Dawn announces. "Tabitha, Naomi, Matty and Dominique all had an ankle broken. They were in Sunnydale. They were the only ones from Sunnydale."

"Is this going somewhere?," Buffy asks dismissively.

"It happened after they were down. You can't shoot somebody in the ankle if they're standing up and you're right in front of them. These are gratuitous injuries."

"And all the others were necessary?," Buffy asks, annoyed and appalled.

"Yes. From the shooter's point of view. But the ankle shots, those were for another reason."

"Sadism?," Buffy suggests.

"Then why only these four?"

"Several girls were shot as they tried to stand up," Giles points out.

"Tabitha and Naomi had already been shot in the kneecaps. No chance they were getting up." Giles and Buffy are rather unnerved by Dawn's eager morbidity.

"Enlighten me then," Buffy sighs in frustration. "Why do you think they did it?"

"To send a message. Do the most damage to the most experienced Slayers. But that gave away an important clue. Whoever did this knew which girls had been with you in Sunnydale. He knew them by sight."

"You think the lead vampire's from Sunnydale?," Giles asks.

"Then I would have killed him a long time ago," Buffy states.

"Most likely," Dawn concurs. "Or, he knows someone who was in Sunnydale. Maybe someone you also know. It doesn't have to be a vampire. It could be a human. Or, they could have been human back then."

"Tabitha's description of the lead vampire made him sound rather un-extraordinary," Giles recalls. "He doesn't match any of the vampires we have on file." Since Dawn presented her theory, Buffy's looked nervous. "Something on your mind?"

"Angel told me that the vampire and the Slayer are," a long, anguished pause, "boyfriend and girlfriend." Rupert's and Dawn's jaws drop.

"Oh my God," Dawn reacts. "That's horrible. He's evil. He's soulless. And perfectly capable of hurting people," she quickly adds so as not to offend Buffy. Giles is positively mortified. Buffy's set an alarming precedent. Of course, Giles doesn't want to say that, for fear of hurting her feelings.

"Perhaps we're dealing with an emulator, or a, wannabe, as some would say."

"Which one does he wanna be?," Dawn asks impertinently. Buffy gives her an angry look.

"Vampires falling for Slayers is quite common," Giles comments to take the blame off Buffy. "Slayers reciprocating is less common, though by no means unheard off." Buffy's eyes bug out. "Maybe once or twice in a century. This Deborah girl fits that archetype. Buffy's relationships with Angel and, er, Spike, were completely different and, so far as I know, unprecedented. They had souls. They endeavored to do good. You loved Angel because he was not evil. If Debbie loves this vampire, it's in spite of the fact that he is evil. That is a completely different thing."

"Umm, Giles, actually, Angel said she thinks he's good, and that he's stopped killing. That's why Angel said he didn't try to stake the kid."

"Wow. He really is emulating," Dawn declares.

"Could he be trying to impress Angel, in order to become part of his firm?," Giles wonders.

"Except that he didn't impress Angel. From the sound of it, he made Angel wanna hurl."

"I'm not arguing that they are in league," Giles clarifies. "But it's a large company. There are plenty of back channels he could use without catching the attention of the man in charge."

"Angel's not evil. He would never do anything to hurt a Slayer. But he's a dupe. Sure, he can do good with his fancy new office and powerful connections. But all the while, there's all this evil swirling around him he can't stop."

Deb and Dev fall to the floor with a thud. He gazes to his left at the Slayer, who's covered in sweat and catching her breath. "And you said we were starting to get boring," he says before putting his arms around her. Deb rolls on top of Dev.

"Nothing a little sex and violence can't liven up. Especially when they're both done at the same time." Dev licks sweat off her right shoulder. "Thirsty?"

"I love the way you taste. But, now that you mention it," he licks the blood from a gash under her right eye, then kisses her upper lip, taking in some of the blood that had flowed out of her nose.

"Like my own pet leach," she quips before rolling off him. "There's a fine line between fun kinky gross and just-plain-gross gross."

"Can't help it. It's my nature." Dev goes bumpy, rolls on top of Deb and tries to bite her neck. She screams and pushes him off, then laughs. "So that's the good kind?," he asks.

"Because you'd never actually bite me."

"Can't say the same for you," he replies with a smirk. She slaps his chest.

"That is SO not the same."

"Why are you so certain I'd never bite you?," Devlin asks with a wicked twinkle in his eye.

"You love me."

"Madly. But what if I had to? What if was so drained from my exertions that I needed a little boost just to give me the strength to stand up?"

"I'd carry you." Debbie stands up, grabs Devlin's right arm and pulls him to his feet. They stand there in silence for a few seconds, happily but awkwardly noticing each other's nakedness. "This is why I fought," she whispers tentatively while running the fingers of her right hand down Dev's chest.

"I doubt you could have this much fun with Buffy," he jokes while slowly moving his left knuckles down the small of her back. Debbie looks offended and pushes Dev's chest with both hands, driving him six feet back into the wall. He ends up sitting on the ground, looking dumbfounded.

"I meant love! Not just sex, dumbass," she explains. Dev stands back up.

"You've learned to separate the two?," he asks with raised eyebrows.

"And I thought you were too drained' to stand up." She pushes him out of the room.

"Just don't ask me to do any fighting tonight." She tosses his clothes out into the living room and stays in the training room to put hers on. Devlin puts his pants on and opens the window shades. "It's dark! How long were we in there?"

"Dunno. Forgot to start my stop watch," Debbie jokes before entering the living room and looking at the clock. "It is late. Wanna go to that party?"

"What about our quiet, cozy night at home?"

"We chucked the quiet part a few hours ago." They both smile and stare at each other. Which reminds Dev of something.

"Deb, you're kinda banged-up."

"Not as bad as you."

"What do we say?"

"Tell them we ran into a couple demons on the way."

"And the people who don't know what we are? They'll think I beat you up."

"You wish," Debbie scoffs.

"You know what I mean."

"Maybe they'll think I beat you up."

"Whatever you want, love. Just let me have a couple glasses of blood first." Deb touches her hair and realizes it's soaking wet. She runs into the bathroom.

"No problem. I need a shower. I look like crap."

"Not possible," Dev replies from the kitchen. "So is everyone going?"

Harmony is at Paul, Luiz and Sidney's apartment. She's wearing a short pink dress and red high heels. "Am I early?," she asks nervously.

"Probably," Sid responds. "You know how these parties are: get there after everyone else has arrived but before the cops show up."

"Sorry I forgot. It feels like it's been forever since I was in high school."

"Was Spike your sire?"

Harmony gasps. "I wish! He was some nobody. Didn't even tell me his name."

"But you knew Spike in Sunnydale?"

"Only after I was sired. We dated. He was my first vampire boyfriend."

Sidney smiles. "Great way to start."

"Oh God. Oh God! You have a crush on him."

"No denying he's a major league hottie. Even with the soul. It's such a shame he got that stupid chip."

"Served him right." Sidney looks shocked. "He tried to stake me."

"So not cool."

"Tell me about it. He only had one woman on his mind, and it wasn't me."

"What is it with guys and Slayers?" Sidney chuckles. "We sure showed her last night."

"How cool was it? I totally wish I could've been there."

"You ever play Duckhunt'? Point, click, girl goes down. And they were in such pain!" Harmony smiles. "Only drag was, Dev wouldn't let us have a free sample."

"Twelve Slayers, and not even a taste?"

"I know! By Mister Self Control wanted it to look like a human hit."

"No human blood: sounds like my boss."

"Small price to pay."

"Are we talking about me, or you?"

"Girl's gotta make a few sacrifices to earn a living."

"Again, which one of us are you talking about?," Harmony asks. They both laugh. "People think it's glamorous. Nobody understands how lonely we get."

"Feeding makes it so hard to make friends."

"I know!," Harmony agrees, overjoyed to have met someone who understands. "Always needing to move so people don't find you out."

"Never having enough time to make friends."

"You can only go out at night."

"And even then, if you meet someone nice, you're too busy looking for the next meal to make a connection."

"And the guys are SO gross!"

"Like the ones who sired us."

"What's your story?"

"About six years ago, when I was a Freshman at Duke, I camped out with my roommates for basketball tickets. When I woke up, they were dead, and I was in some sewer dungeon with this cretin who wanted me to be his love slave. Whoever gave people the idea that male vampires are cool and sexy was dirty, rotten liar."

"There are some," Harmony concedes with a small half-smile.

"But they're already taken. Every last one."

"And even if they're not, they're still caught up on the girl they lost, or the one they wanna get."

"You ever tried to make one?"

"A few cute guys I went to high school with. Totally backfired."

"It's like, ninety percent of guys get worse when they turn, nine percent stay the same, and one percent get better."

"Are Paul and Luiz part of that one percent?," Harmony asks.

"I don't know what they were like as humans. But they're probably part of the nine percent. Dev, he's definitely in that top group."

"But he doesn't look it. That's the weird thing. Spike and Angel, you can tell the moment you meet them. But when I met Devlin, he did nothing for me. The guy seemed so . . . average."

"Ya gotta see him in action to understand."

"Or, if the action's good enough, just hear about it."

"The Slayer thing was the bomb! Getting the cops to do our work for us was a goddam stroke of genius."

"Tell me the truth: did it turn you on?"

"I'm completely NOT hot for Dev. He's totally not my type. But last night, if he asked, I probably woulda gone down on him. The way he humiliated all those Slayers was the dopest I've ever seen."

"Today, Buffy called Angel, and I was the one who answered," Harmony reveals. As she hoped, Sidney looks delighted and eager for details.

At half past nine, Devlin and Debbie leave her home and walk down to the party. He's wearing black converse sneakers, dark blue jeans, a black tank top and light blue silk shirt, with a gold chain around his neck. She wears tight black jeans, an olive-green sleeveless blouse, a short, shiny black leather jacket, and a small silver cross. Suddenly, Dev stops two-thirds of the way down their driveway and puts his right hand on Deb's stomach to hold her back. "Something's watching us."

"Slayer?," she asks, frightened. He shakes his head.

"Doubtful," he whispers. "Slayers don't usually growl and drool." He carefully looks around, paying special attention to the rows of shrubbery across the street. The eavesdropper has cladestinely moved into the yard to the right of Debbie's, and hides behind a car in the driveway. It leaps over the car and charges across the lawn. Deb and Dev spot the shadowy figure in the darkness when it's thirty feet away and closing fast. She screams and runs for her front door. The attacker changes course to follow her. Dev races to put himself in its path. "No Deb! It doesn't have to be invited in." The attacker leaps at Devlin, who goes bumpy and head-butts the beast, which then stands on its hind legs and growls. Dev growls back.

"That's the furriest damn demon I've ever seen," Debbie exclaims.

"It's a werewolf," Devlin declares before leaping at the animal and trying to bite it in the throat. Dev gets on top, but the wolf pushes him aside and races on all fours for Debbie. Devlin gives chase and grabs its tale, forcing the beast to turn around and take a swat at the vampire, who steps back out of the way. He lands a right roundhouse kick to the wolf's head, causing it to turn around and attack Debbie, who shrieks as she grabs its ears and pushes the animal to her left to avoid mauling. Devlin leaps over and drives his right foot into the werewolf's spine. Deb kicks its underbelly with her right foot, causing it to roll over twice before standing up on its hind legs. Dev stands to his girlfriend's right. The two of them size up the attacker.

"So werewolves are real. And they're this," Debbie offers. "How do we take it down?"

"All my bullets are lead." Then Devlin smiles. "Hold it back for ten seconds, love. That's all I need."

"Okay," she gulps.

"I'll be right back." He rushes inside.

"He's the one who gets to run. That's no fair." The wolf charges on all fours. Debbie turns and runs towards the porch. She leaps up, grabs hold of the gutter and swings her body onto the roof of the one-story house. She stands up, looks down, and breathes a sigh of relief when it becomes clear the werewolf can't join her. "This should buy me ten seconds." The werewolf turns around, runs towards the tree in Debbie's front yard and climbs up with the speed and agility of a bear. "Or, maybe not." The wolf balances itself on a heavy branch that leads towards the roof. Debbie walks rightwards, away from where the beast is trying to land on the roof. Just then, Devlin races out the front door, brandishing the tranquilizer rifle he stole from Arthur and Andrew. "It's in the tree!," Debbie yells when she sees him. He aims, but the animal grabs the branch with both hands, lets its feet down and swings onto the roof like a monkey. It lands twenty feet from Deb and immediately rushes her. She lets it get within five feet before leaping down to the grass and running towards the street. Dev backs up, staying ten feet in front of the Slayer and aiming the rifle, waiting for a good shot. If he misses, the wolf will be on top of both of them before he can reload. The werewolf spots its prey and leaps down to the driveway. Dev hits it in the chest from twenty feet away, and it gets within ten feet of him before falling down. Debbie puts her left arm around his shoulder as she catches her breath.

"This is what happens when I try to have a social life," she jokes.

"Maybe we should have stayed home after all. It is that time of the month." Devlin looks up at the sky. "No it's not." The moon is three-quarters full. "What the hell?" He walks over to the beast.

"So it's not a werewolf? Just some wolfish demon?"

"I don't know. The legs are too long. A demon would be better-proportioned. Less awkward. We'd both be dead if it wasn't so clumsy." He figures out how to reload, cocks the weapon and puts a dart in the animal's spine. The first shot just made it groggy. This one puts it into peaceful unconsciousness. "I need your crucifix."

"For what?"

"It's silver."

"So?" Debbie looks appalled. "You're gonna kill it! No. No!"

"I only had two darts. What do we do when it wakes up?"

"Can't we take it somewhere?"

"You mean like the zoo?"

"It's a person. You are not killing a person. Especially not with this. You gave me this crucifix!"

"It was a person."

"He'll change back in the morning."

"During the full moon. He's not supposed to be a wolf now. This guy broke the number one rule. What makes you think he won't break rule number two?"

"We have to give him a chance to turn back."

"Not if it risks your life. Or the life of anyone else around here. I don't know how long the nap juice will last. But if he's still an animal when he comes to, we're in deep trouble."

"How do people usually handle this?"

"You get bit, you lock yourself up three nights a month. If you don't, sooner or later someone will kill you."

"Like in An American Werewolf in London'?"

"Except the part about the guy becoming a sex machine after getting bit."

"How many werewolves have you known?"

"None well. But I can smell them even when they're human. We never bite their kind."

"It's like vampire repellant?"

"They're already sharing their body with a demon, so from our point of view they're spoken for. And I've heard their blood tastes wicked awful."

"Maybe we could get a leash? I could yank it to keep it under control."

"That'll only stop it from attacking other people. You'd still be in danger."

"I got it! Angel."

"And he would do us this big favor, why?"

"He can keep this thing locked up."

"As a pet? Or an attack dog he could sick on his enemies?"

"Angel would never do that."

"But his employer would. Just cause he's technically in charge doesn't mean he can change the corporate culture. The company's still full of evil-doers."

"But Angel's not one of them."

"He has to delegate. You think he's gonna personally pick up the wolf and care for him? The guy's too busy to care about a single mutant werewolf."

"Something on your mind?," Nina asks Angel as they have a romantic candlelit dinner in an expensive French restaurant. "Is it Buffy?"

"No. Yes. But not in that way."

"In what way then?"

"She's become the target of an international criminal investigation. It's a huge misunderstanding. But it's still huge. Gunn says that when John Ashcroft sets his sights on you - "

"Attorney General Ashcroft? What the hell is she involved in? Does he think you're ex-girlfriend's a terrorist?"

"No. As far as I know. But he thinks she's something nearly as bad. Her phone's bugged. She's been put under virtual house arrest."

"Sounds Kafka-esque."

"You hate to see a friend in that kind of predicament."

"I hate to see anyone in that kind of predicament."

"So, if I seem a little distracted - "

"I'll cut you some slack. Oz told me she had run-ins with the cops back in Sunnydale. But nothing on this scale."

"When did Oz tell you this?," Angel asks suspiciously.

"Today. At lunch."

"I thought you had classes?"

"He met me at the student center."

"Sounds like you two are getting pretty chummy."

Deb and Dev pick up the werewolf and place the surprisingly heavy beast into the trunk of Devlin's car. "I say we steal a boat and take it three or four miles out. If it turns human in the morning, the guy can motor it back to shore. If not, the beast is stuck. They can probably swim a mile, maybe two, at most."

"And when the owners notice their boat's gone?"

"We bring along the dingy, put it in that, and dock the actual boat before sunrise."

"Say someone sails by, and the werewolf leaps at them and eats them?"

"I'm also open to driving it out into the desert."

"That does it. I'm calling Angel." Debbie runs back into her house to get her cell phone and find Angel's business card. Dev puts his hands on his hips, looks up at the moon and sighs. Then he looks at the werewolf and pets it.

"You sure picked the right girl to attack. If Debbie didn't have a heart of gold, yours would be full of silver by now. But there are other ways. I could rip your throat out. Or bite through your spine," he adds maliciously while running his right hand down its backbone. "Yes sir. You're one lucky werewolf." Devlin backs up, leaves the trunk door open and waits for Debbie. She rushes back to make sure it's still sleeping soundly. "What if it wakes up before he gets here?"

"We have a baseball bat. And a sledgehammer. We'll just beat him back into unconsciousness. I thought you said one of those darts would put me out for twenty hours?"

"This thing weighs a lot more than you."

"But I'm a Slayer. My strength is several times what my weight says it should be. Plus, he got a double dose." The werewolf opens its eyes. Deb and Dev back up, frightened. But instead of attacking, the wolf turns into a man in his early thirties, who lies curled up in the fetal position, shaking and sweating. "Are you glad you didn't kill him now?" Devlin picks the man up, carries him out of the trunk and places him on the grass.

"I think he's in shock."

"I know I'd be."

"Get a blanket."

"You get a blanket. I'm gonna call Angel."

"Good. I'd rather have this potential death on his hands," Devlin confesses before heading inside. Debbie dials Angel's cell and nervously watches the naked man as she waits for her call to go through.

"It's nice having a werewolf friend who understands what it's like," Nina explains.

"So he's just a friend."

"Angel! I can't believe this. I've never seen you so insecure."

"I'm glad you have Oz. He's a great guy. Who in no way makes me feel insecure. But Nina, how would you feel if a had a lady friend who was a vampire with a soul?"

"That's ridiculous. You're the only one." She knows Spike's a vampire, but assumes he doesn't have a soul, like Harmony.

Angel smiles. "If you say so." His phone rings. "I probably should answer this. It could be something important."

"Angel? It's Debbie."

"Debbie! Great to hear from you."

"Who's Debbie?," a suspicious Nina wonders.

"I was attacked by a werewolf."

"What? Tonight? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Thanks to Dev. He shot it with two tranquilizer darts. But then it turned human. The guy's convulsing. I think he needs to go to a hospital or something."

"Where are you?"

"My house."

"Stay right there. I'm on my way." Angel stands up. "We have to go."

"We? Or you?"

"We. There was a werewolf attack."

"But it's not even - "

"I know." Nina looks horrified.

"Oz? Oh no." She knows he can turn when it's not the full moon.

"I don't know if it's him. I should have asked."

"How would they know?"

"The werewolf changed back to being human." Something Oz also has done shortly after attacks. "I'll call back and get a description."

"No. I'll call him." A very worried Nina grabs Angel's phone and dials his number. "Oz! Oh, thank God."

"Thanks. But, why?"

"Where are you?"

"Home. Well, not exactly. You know the place. This may sound rude, but why so eager to hear me?"

"I'm not sure."

"Interesting."

"Can you hold for a second?"

"If need be, I could probably hold for longer."

"Angel, who's Debbie?"

"It's not what you think."

"Is Debbie a Vampire Slayer?"

"Okay, it is what you think. But we're just friends. She's seventeen."

"So was Buffy."

"Actually, Buffy was sixteen when she met me. Never mind. Look, I don't have a thing for Slayers in general."

"And the werewolf attacked her?"

"And she tranquilized it," Angel replies wishfully, omitting Devlin's participation. Nina gets back on with Oz.

"The werewolf tried to kill Angel's Slayer friend."

"Faith's in town?" Nina looks at Angel.

"Who is Faith!?

"She has nothing to do with this!"

"No Oz. Angel called her Debbie."

"A new Slayer. Interesting. She live in LA?"

"Where's this Debbie girl from?"

"Laguna Hills."

"In Orange County? That's a little out of your way, isn't it Angel?"

"Nina. Nina?"

"Sorry Oz."

"He's here."

"Who?"

"The man who's after me. Werewolves go for easy kills. If this one attacked a Slayer, well, that sounds like a hit. Which is what he makes them do."

"You're right. We're both in danger."

"Nina, I need my phone back. A man's life is at stake."

"More than one. Oz, wait there. We'll pick you up in, maybe twenty minutes tops." She hangs up. Oz sits back down on the couch and starts sweating. This was not good.

"Why did you tell him that?"

"Because he's in danger. And so am I."