Noon, the next day

Rupert Giles stands in front of a very tired and hung over Roger Ashford, who is slumped over the aluminum table set up in Giles' suite. Giles slams a hand on the table to get the other man's attention. "Answer me! What were you doing out that late at night without your Slayer?"

Ashford grimaces and reaches for a flask that isn't at his hip. He snaps his fingers in disappointment and looks up at Giles with bleary eyes. "I needed to get some air. It's getting bloody stifling around here. Miss Summers was conducting interviews with Mr. Wells."

Giles shakes his head and walks over to stand above Ashford. "There are rules for a reason, Mr. Ashford, and I'm getting tired of explaining them to you. I don't care how your brother ran the old Council; I'm the one in charge here. If you don't like it, you can bloody well leave and keep quiet about it!"

Ashford looks weakly up at Giles. "I won't be leaving the compound anytime soon, Mr. Giles, I can assure you. That vampire gave me a nasty fright. And the demon that you allowed in here--"

"Is not open for discussion," Giles interrupts. "From now on, you report to Buffy or me if you plan to gallivant across the London countryside, you understand?"

Ashford nods once, a sour look on his face. He reaches once more for the nonexistent flask and sighs. "May I be excused now, sir? I do believe I'm rather ill."

"Dismissed," Giles says in exasperation. He watches Ashford leave, shaking his head. He is about to sink into the now empty chair when he hears a knock on the door. "Come in," he calls, hoping it's nothing too urgent.

Dawn Summers enters the room reluctantly, looking down at her feet ad wringing her hands. Giles stands quickly. It's rare to see the ordinarily chipper girl in such a state. "Dawn, are you all right?"

"I'm okay," Dawn says. "But I think there's stuff we need to talk about. A lot of stuff."

"So, when did you get in?" Buffy asks the man standing in front of her in the hotel's basement. It has been used as the training center for the Slayers but its empty now, as most tend to work out closer to dusk. She puts her hands on her hips. "Spike, when did you get to London?"

Spike, the vampire who has recently attained a soul and hero status with the Slayer crowd, scuffs his feet, obviously reluctant to talk. Buffy steps closer but the vampire backs away. "Don't…"

"What's your damage now, Spike?" Buffy asks irritably. Having thought he was dead followed by working for Angel, her opinion on Spike remains constantly evolving. She doesn't know whether it's hate, love, respect, or pity but she can't seem to shake him from her mind or heart. Not yet. "Why are you here?"

Spike sighs. "We… uh, well, Angel and I, we dug up some dirt on what's going on down here. You know, with your new Council and whatnot."

"Oh goodie," Buffy says snidely. "What about it? Don't like it because we'll be doing some serious work on the vampire community?"

"No, because if we know what we do, we know that there's information being leaked from here," Spike snaps. Buffy looks surprised. "Don't act like that. You know Jack the Ripper got his info from the inside."

Buffy shakes her head. "No, how can this be happening? We've safeguarded--"

"You've done nothing, Buffy!" Spike says. "You've opened your ruddy doors to anyone with knowledge on the supernatural. Everyone here that you don't know is suspect! Hell, maybe even the ones you do know. You're still hanging with that Andrew git, aren't you?"

Buffy doesn't talk. She paces slowly, shaking her head. Spike steps nearer to her and hold outs a hand. Buffy pauses, looking at it. Spike frowns. "That coffee boy really got your knickers in a twist already?"

"No, I just met him," Buffy says softly. She just looks at Spike. "You were dead. That amulet kept you here but you died for us."

"For you, Buffy," Spike says. "And I'd do it again. As many times as it took to make everything up to you."

"There's nothing to make up, Spike," Buffy takes Spike's hand. "You weren't yourself. You were evil… and in love. Which always makes for a bad combination."

Spike shrugs. "And that's why you're a good guy. So, want to fill me in on all that we haven't been able to discern?"

"All this paperwork mumbo-jumbo is giving me a headache," Kennedy says while rifling through a stack of papers on her lap. She is still in the hospital bed that has been brought in to make a pseudo-infirmary in the hotel. She looks up at Willow, who seems distracted. "Honey?"

Willow looks at Kennedy. "Yeah, it's great," she says quickly. She sees Kennedy's admonishing frown. "Not an appropriate response?"

"Nope," Kennedy says. "Are you okay?"

Willow shrugs and sits on the edge of the bed. "I don't know. Just a little out of sorts."

"That's because I've been in this stupid bed forever," Kennedy makes a face. "But tomorrow I'm free to go so we can snuggle and put you back in sorts, okay?"

"That'll be nice," Willow replies. She sighs. "Xander and I are heading down into the old Council's ruins and underground to find hidden treasure. I don't think I'll be back before you're up and around."

"You can't wait till I'm better so I can go with you?" Kennedy asks, folding her arms across her chest.

Willow shakes her head. "Our financial backer left the fold. We need income soon and no one has the funds to do so. Everyone here is either part of the early college crowd or formerly stuffy librarians. The sooner we leave the better."

Kennedy puts her hands over her ears. "I'm still tired of anything that doesn't involve pointy sticks and a pile of dust."

Willow chuckles and kisses Kennedy on the forehead. "I'll be back as soon as I can, baby. Get well till then, okay?"

"Yes, dear," Kennedy rolls her eyes playfully at Willow as the other girl leaves the room. Kennedy sighs and gets back to shuffling through the papers that were still unorganized across her bed.