Many tactics had been tried and failed. Countless attempts had been made and botched. Willow was at her wit's end and the dregs of her resources, without resorting to magic, that is - and that would be cheating and so not right. She'd hold off on that for one more week. So now she fell back on her last hope, her only untapped resource whose aid could help to win Buffy's love.

"Xander briefed me on your objective and I've done some poking around for you, but I don't see what's so special about these pants," stated Andrew, holding up a pair of small sized, red leather pants in front of Willow. "I mean, I don't even think you could fit into these. They're awfully tight."

Willow felt a migraine coming on. Sometimes he was just unfathomably dense. She massaged her temples gingerly, groaning, "Andrew..."

"Kidding. You were so quick to believe that. The respect you have for me is enormous." He tossed the unimportant pants to the side. "Now come over here to the Big Board as I lay out for you the details of what I like to call 'Operation: Get Into Buffy's Pants'."

"That's such a ridiculous name."

"Sorry, I couldn't think of anything better. I wanted to come up with something like 'Overlord' or 'Barbarossa' that's punchy or cool, but it's not exactly an awe-inspiring endeavor we're dealing with, no offense." Willow found that offensive. She though the idea of her and Buffy together was awe-inspiring.

"I'm still not entirely sure why you're doing this," Andrew continued, not noticing Willow's upset mood. "I mean, you just had a night of passion with Faith and Xander, and from what I hear they'd be happy to have you as a permanent member of their menage a trois, yet you still covet another woman."

"It's complicated," was all that she was willing to tell him. It wasn't, really; she just didn't want to tell him. Then he'd start getting all sappy and romance-novelly and she'd have to reconsider not killing him.

Andrew nodded in a sage manner, humming and hawing over her lack of answer. "I understand," he said, though he did not. "Come. Let me impart my wisdom upon you," he said, and she rolled her eyes. "Anthropological research has demonstrated that the availability of sustinance has always been a driving factor for selection of mates," he said, pointing to a sketch of what appeared to be a pork chop on the Big Board. "Metaphysically speaking, individuals are attracted to members of their species who are providers. The presense of dopamine in foods rich in protein is thought to increase excitement levels and emotional arousal." A chemical formula was displayed on the board. He'd gotten it wrong, but it really didn't add anything to the presentation, so Willow ignored him. The sociology diagram was much worse - and a little lewd. It made her inwardly shudder. "Though physiological differences exist," Andrew continued, "satisfaction of the stomach's needs has been anecdotally linked to success in seducing the male of the species. A careful analysis of this information yields a likely plan of attack."

"Do you mean we went through all this rigmarole and hyperbole just to say 'feed her'?"

Now it was Andrew's turn to be offended. "Definitely not. Minute details elevate this operation beyond merely feeding. The intricate interplay between social interaction and... well, yes. I just hadn't had the oportunity to use the Big Board recently."

"Yeah. Do you think cooking for her will be enough? I mean, it seems kinda chincy."

"Little grasshopper, you fail because you believe you will fail. To succeed you must believe you will succeed."

"Uh... Thanks..."