Author Notes: I hope all both of you who are reading this story are enjoying the quick updates. This chapter has a special guest star. He's recently gay.

New York was much taller than Sunnydale. Buffybot was unable to determine if this was a factor in the responses of its residents being significantly different than the predicted responses of Sunnydale residents. Whereas Sunnydale residents would typically greet her kindly in the street, with a statically insignificant few stopping to attack her or others in the area, the residents of New York appeared to be pulling their children away from her, staring and pointing, or changing their trajectory to avoid approaching within several meters of her. This disparity was confusing.

Her first destination in her attempt to meet the people who could help her find Willow was the local library. Buffybot had determined that those who frequented libraries were a helpful sort of people so long as auditory communication was maintened at only low decibel levels.

Once inside the library she approached a middle aged woman with thick plastic glasses who was seated at a computer terminal. Judging by her faded gray wool knit clothing, she was likely the librarian.

"Hello," Buffybot greeted. "I'm looking for Willow. She's my best friend, and a witch. She's recently gay."

The woman furled her brow. She must have considered it a difficult inquiry.

"Is she supposed to meet you here in the library? What does she look like, I'll tell you if I've seen her." While confused and perplexed, this woman was kind. Buffybot's opinion of New Yorkers had improved quickly since her first few encounters. Not once had she been attacked and, during the latter part of her journey, the pedestrians she had approached had not behaved peculiarly. The demarcation point being after the man in black ran out from the church and gave her some nice new clothes to wear.

"No, she's not in the library. Willow has red hair and cute little freckles. She's a little taller than Spike and very thin."

"Well, if she's not here then I don't need to know what she looks like. How would you like me to help you?"

"I don't know where she is, and I need to find her."

The kind woman smiled at her. "I can help you with that, I think. We'll just google her name and see what we get."

Buffybot typed "Willow Rosenberg" on the keyboard and the kind woman clicked the mouse. She frowned.

"Porn site, porn site, lesbian porn site, femslash fiction... Your friend's not a porn star, is she?"

"Not according to the information in my memory banks." She calculated that the web sites had a small probability of being related to her Willow, given that they were accurate about Willow being gay and the fact that she was very attractive.

"Hmm... Doctor in New York?"

"She's a witch and a computer scientist."

The kind woman scrolled through a few more pages of search results.

"How about this one? Sunnydale High alumni page, class of 1998. Oh my god, a disaster at the graduation ceremony. How horrible." The woman clasped her hand to her mouth in shock.

"Yes, that's the one!" Buffybot beamed, happily.

There was no forwarding address for Willow listed on the web page, however the page did say that more information may be available to fellow alumni through the webmaster, a Sunnydale high graduate named Scott Hope. His contact information waslisted, and was conveniently local to Buffybot's current location. The fact that Buffybot was not, in reality, an alumnus of Sunnydale High was considered but was determined to be unlikely to present a problem. What concerned her more was that she did not have any databank information on Scott Hope. It was probable that this was because her history with him was only limited and in that case it could be predicted that the meeting would go smoothly.

Scott loved these lazy Sunday afternoons. The work week was long and fatiguing, and the only things that made the grind worthwhile were these precious moments where he could cuddle up close with Ricky and share just being alone together.

The scalding hot coffee was slowly descending to a drinkable temperature, appropriately enough on their coffe table, nestled inside two matching mugs; heart shaped mugs, one reading Scott and the other Ricky. The former was laying back against the hard, muscled chest of the latter, both wearing matching, sickly sweet bathrobes, oblivious to the sugary sight they presented. Scott didn't care what certain people were saying about him, or taking vengeance for the compensation tactics he had used in his painful youth. He had finally made his choice, and now was happy, in love, fancy-free...

Ding-Dong!

Doorbell. Scott groaned theatrically and slowly made his way to his feet, making sure to grind every part of his body against as much of Ricky's body as possible.

"Oh, I was comfortable there," he griped. He stumbled toward the door. "Who could be bothering us at this time?"

Ricky knew. "Sorry, I forgot to tell you. Some girl phoned yesterday while you were out," he said in his gently lisping voice. "She said she was looking for a friend from high school. I said she could drop by today. I hope you don't mind." Scott just couldn't stay mad at him while he was making that pouty face. And it was okay. She probably wouldn't be anyone he knew particularly well and he could send her on her way with a minimum of fuss.

"Hello."

Sometimes you just gotta say "oh shit" out loud. But that's not polite so you try to restrain yourself.

Instead, Scott just said, "Buffy," and stood agape.

"Hi," she replied, brightly. "Are you Scott Hope?"

Huh? Was that a subtle insult? Revenge after all these years after he dumped her?

"Yes, of course I am, Buffy." Time to apologize. "Listen. I know we didn't split on the best of terms, and I know it was my fault. Entirely my fault." Geez, listen to him. He sounds like a straight married man. "And I'm so sorry for what I did. I'm not trying to make excuses, but I was going through a difficult time in my life back then. I wasn't sure what I wanted and I needed time and experience to come to terms with myself. And I'm sorry that I involved you in my own personal trials. Can you forgive me?"

Buffy blinked. "Am I supposed to know you?"

Well that's just cold. Affairs of the heart with men are just so much simpler.

"Fine. We'll play it your way," Scott said, in exasperation, throwing up his hands and gazing skyward. Vindictive much?

But Buffy did not seem to be vindictive at all. "I don't have any knowledge of you, though you seem to have knowledge of me," she said. "My memory is incomplete. I have been in an accident and require assistance, which is why I am searching for Willow. She's my best friend, and she's recently gay. Can you help me?"

That would explain the dazed looks and confusion. She was certainly not acting like the old Buffy. Scott wondered if she had brain damage. Not a lot of brain damage, just a little. In her line of work, not so secret after graduation, brain damage seemed likely.

"Yes, I know who Willow is. I don't have any direct contact with her, so no phone numbers or addresses or anything like that. I do know that she spends most of her time in Brazil now. Last I heard, she was vacationing in Rio de Janeiro. I could try to get in contact with Xander Harris, he'd probably know more, but he's kind of difficult to reach these days. I wish I could help you more, Buffy."

Instead of disappointment, she beamed. "That is adequate. I can locate her if she is within eighty miles." Right... the super-powers. "Thank you. I will now head for Rio de Janeiro."

She didn't seem angry with him at all, which was of course a huge relief. How was he supposed to know that he had been spreading gay rumors about a superhero? It's probably better for everyone if she doesn't remember that part. Though it's not like he was the only one who thought that she was...

"Before you go I was wondering..."

"Yes, Scott?"

"Did you ever hook up with Faith? You two made such a cute couple."

He could have sworn he heard her brain click. Buffy did answer promptly. "Not to the best of my knowledge. I like Faith. She's a fine bit of alright and not a stuck up goody-two-shoes like me."

"That's too bad, I guess. Good look on your trip, Buffy."

With that the ex left his house, and he was none the worse for wear. Surprisingly. Funny. She sounded a bit British there. Probably been spending too much time with the librarian. Wonder how thatrumor turned out...