It was kind of awkward talking about Joyce, to begin with. Dawn had never really done it after she'd died – it had seemed like some kind of taboo topic. Besides, Buffy had seemed to have stuffed all her grief into some part of her head so that she could deal with the upcoming crisis, and Dawn had tried to do the same. It was kind of painful dredging them up now, but it wasn't the same as it had been in the days immediately following Joyce's death. Dawn couldn't quite figure out how.

So, hesitatingly, but with greater and greater fluency, Dawn talked about how Joyce had driven her to her first day of school, and seemed sadder to see her go in than Dawn herself had. How, when Dawn hadn't wanted to go back the following day, Joyce had let her stay at home and they'd watched TV and eaten popcorn all day. Jess didn't talk much while Dawn spun these tales. He just made the occasional comment.

Eventually, though, after Dawn had finished talking about a birthday party she'd had when she was eight, Jess said "That reminds me of one of my birthdays. I think I was seven. Liz decided she would make me a cake. Not a bad idea in itself, but Liz isn't exactly what you'd call talented in the culinary arts. We almost set the apartment on fire. I'm not even sure how."

After that, they swapped stories back and forth. Each of them stuck to the happier memories – Dawn didn't want to tell Jess about how Joyce orchestrated a witch burning, and Jess didn't want to talk about the time Liz had gone to a parents' evening as high as a kite.

Dawn excused herself to go the bathroom. Jess thought about lighting a cigarette, but he didn't think Dawn would appreciate him lighting up in her house.

When Dawn came back, she had a bottle of beer in either hand.

Jess raised an eyebrow. "What are you planning on doing with those?"

Dawn shrugged. "Molotov cocktail?"

"Don't think that'll work with beer, but you're welcome to try. Taylor's down at the inn, so we should be able to test it out at his place without anyone noticing."

"I was joking, you know."

"Yeah, I figured that, but I thought that it would probably be safer for you to try and firebomb someone's house than get drunk. You'll probably end up firebombing Taylor's place anyway."

"I doubt it. My sister's the violent one in the family."

"What's with the sudden change of heart? I thought you weren't 'that kind of girl'." Jess said with air quotes.

"Honestly? I was thirsty, and I saw these by the door. Besides, Buffy had her first big alcohol thing when she was my age. I think I'm overdue for a binge."

Jess scratched his head. "I think I might be a bad influence on you."

iOh, yeah, because drinking beer is so much worse than me hunting monsters. Besides, nothing you could possibly do is worse than the kind of things Spike did/i Dawn thought. What she actually said was "Nah. I'd probably have pulled some other stunt at some point. I tend to do that."

"Really?" Jess said sceptically. "So you're not the squeaky clean linguist you seem to be?"

"Oh, no. Did I mention that I played truant for most of ninth grade?"

"Oh, congratulations. It's good to know you played hooky before I arrived on the scene." Jess said drily. "I can't be blamed if you keep up the good work."

"You're really serious about not doing the whole peer-pressure bad boy thing, aren't you?"

Oh, how could Jess explain? He'd done the bad boy thing with Rory, and countless other nameless, faceless others. It had been so easy. And it hadn't worked. It had led to him leaving Stars Hollow and bumming around the country for about a year before figuring out that he didn't actually want to leave. So, yes, he could be the kind of boyfriend that introduced Dawn to the shady world of cigarettes and alcohol. He could be the town rebel. But he'd done that before, and he didn't like where it led. So he wasn't going down that path again. He'd already kind of stepped into that persona by turning up at Dawn's door with a six pack under his arm, and it had been a mistake to go that far. He wasn't going to go down it any further.

So Jess said simply "Yes."

"You don't have to, you know." Dawn said. "Try so hard, I mean. The whole supportive farm boy type thing isn't nearly as attractive as it looks. Everyone needs a little bit of a rebellious streak, David Robert Jones."

Jess threw up his hands. "Fine! I give up. If you want to do this, go ahead. But I reserve the right to cut you off when you get horrendously drunk after about half a bottle. I also reserve the right to say "I told you it was a bad idea" in the morning when your brain tries to trickle out of your ears because you're so hung-over."

"Yay!" Dawn said excitedly, holding the bottles aloft.

"Okay then." Jess said, hoping the Dawn wouldn't be the chirpy, overly friendly type of drunk. "Pass me one, will you?"

Dawn did so, and they opened theirs simultaneously. "Cheers!"

Dawn took a swig, and instantly made a face. "Bleurgh! That tastes like shampoo."

"It is a little bit of an acquired taste." Jess nodded.

"Well, yeah. Drinking shampoo would be." Dawn paused. "I don't feel any different."

"That's because you only had a mouthful, Dawn." Jess said patiently. "Although, come to think about it, you should probably eat something. Getting drunk is a lot worse on an empty stomach."

Dawn shrugged. "Meh. I'll live."

"You won't feel like that in the morning." Jess warned. And then promptly decided to stop being the responsible one. It was boring. He'd had enough of it.

Dawn took another mouthful, and grimaced again. "See, I don't get why you and your mom don't get along. Besides the fact that she can't cook worth a damn, has only a passing familiarity with punctuality, and seems to have had more boyfriends than King Henry VIII had wives, I mean."

Ah. So they were back on that, apparently. Great. Jess took a deep draught of beer while he thought about what he should say. "It's complicated, I guess. There's more to it than that."

"Okay. Cool." Dawn said, looking suspiciously into her can. "That makes sense."

"You lose something in there?"

"What? No. I was just wondering why it tasted so much like shampoo."

"You think you can work that out just from looking at it?"

"No. Probably not." Dawn looked up. "So, you want to do that thing? You know, the thing you said earlier. The thing from the movie, even though we can't remember what movie it was."

"Well, that was fast." Jess murmured.

Dawn frowned. "What was?"

"You've only had, what, two mouthfuls? And you're babbling already."

"Oh, no, that's not because I'm drunk. That's because I spent a lot of time with someone who could probably recite the entirety of John Galt's speech without pausing for breath. I picked my babbling skills up from her."

"Dawn, Galt's speech is at least three hours long."

Dawn shrugged, and took another long swig. "What can I say? Will's talented."

"Okay then. How'd you want to do this? You want to suggest something and then we take a drink if our mom has done it?"

"Sure. Sounds like a good idea. Alright then, let's see… dated a psychopath?"

They both took a drink. "Seriously?" Jess said, a little surprised. "Your mom doesn't seem like the kind of person who would get involved with a psychopath. From what you've said, I mean."

"His name was Ted. He seemed like a nice guy. He wasn't." Dawn said finally, clearly unwilling to go into greater detail. After all, how could she explain that Ted had been a robot built in the 50's who had drugged people and killed his four previous wives. "Who was your guy?"

"Some junkie. He's in prison for assault now." Jess said simply.

Dawn took another drink so that she wouldn't ask for details. She figured Jess would tell her if he wanted to. "'kay. 's my turn. Um…"

"Hey, hold on. It's my turn." Jess protested.

"Is it? 'kay then."

"How about embarrassed you at school?"

Jess took a drink. Dawn didn't. "Lucky." Jess said.

"She's never embarrassed me at school. She brained someone with a fire axe once, but I wasn't there for that. She was with my, my Buffy."

"You're joking."

"I never joke about fire axes." Dawn said, perfectly seriously. She frowned. "You're kind of blurry." She took drink on the off chance that this would focus Jess. It didn't.

Jess tried to figure out how much Dawn could've possibly drunk. It couldn't be more than half a can. He shouldn't be looking that blurry. On the other hand, Dawn was pretty scrawny, hadn't eaten anything and had no alcohol tolerance. Maybe she should be kind of tipsy about now.

"See, the thing is, Spike, is that the thing is someone dangerous got into the school. Mom went all Momma Bear. Hit him like he was a-a-an almond."

Jess thought for a moment. "Do you mean salmon?"

"Probably."

"Who's Spike?" Jess said. He remembered Dawn calling him that a couple of times before, but she generally looked like she would start crying if he asked her about whoever he was, so he never had. He felt slightly bad taking advantage of Dawn's slightly tipsy state, but he was curious.

"He's a friend of mine. Was. Was a friend. He's dead now. Deader than he was before, even. You kind of remind me of him. He died when Sunnydale collapsed. He had spiky hair and liked poetry. He smoked too. Had a thing for, um, Buffy. You know the kind of thing. He'd dead now, Spike."

"Wow, you're really a lightweight, aren't you?" Jess murmured. He stood up and gently removed the can from Dawn. It was empty – apparently she'd taken much bigger mouthfuls than he would've expected. "Come on, let's get you some water. You'll feel better for it in the morning. Trust me."

After a couple of false starts, Dawn managed to stand up. "Okay. 'm up."

"Good. Congratulations. Now, where's the kitchen?"

"That way." Dawn said, pointing at a wall.

Jess sighed. "Great. Just great. Hold on for a second, I'm going to get you some water. Try not to blunder into anything, okay?"

"I'll have you know that I don't blunder. I am as free from blunders as a blunderbuss is full of 'em."

"That's nice."

It didn't take Jess long to find some water, and he wasn't entirely surprised to find Dawn sprawled on her chair again. "Here you go."

Dawn managed to drink it with only minimal spillage. "There. I'm drunk. I've drunk. Whichever."

"Fantastic. Now, do you know the way to your bedroom?"

"Don't be patronizzzing." Dawn drawled. "Spike wasn't a patron. He treated me like a womb. Woman. Yeah. That. "

"I'm happy for you." Jess muttered. He looped Dawn's arm around his neck, not entirely confident in her ability to walk straight. "Lay on, Macduff."

Dawn began walking. She wasn't quite as unsteady as Jess had feared. "'s why I had a crush on him, you see. 'cause I'm an adult. I am. And 'cause he was hot, for a dead guy."

Suddenly, Jess felt like swearing.

Dawn had asked him at least half a dozen times if he was hanging out with her to make Rory jealous. He hadn't been, and he'd been pretty sure that she hadn't been hanging out with him to make Xander jealous. Now, it turned out that he reminded her of some guy like Spike who she had a crush on.

Wonderful. Just wonderful. He was the goddamn rebound guy.

Jess stayed with Dawn until she got to her bedroom, completely ignored her trying to give him a drunken goodnight kiss, and left without a word.

As soon as Xander and Rory left, Yelena turned to Giles and asked "What is wrong with that boy's chest?"

"What? What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"That is what I asked you." Yelena replied patiently.

"Um, nothing. At least not as far as I know. Why, do you know something?"

"He bears the mark of rather powerful magic. I was just wondering why, and what it did. He certainly doesn't seem to mind, which is rather surprising."

Giles' face lit with understanding. "Oh, that. Xander got in the way of a powerful witch last year. She hit him with a stream of energy while she was trying to activate Proserpexa's Temple."

Ethan looked up from his bleeding hand, which he'd been vainly trying to staunch with layer upon layer of kitchen roll. "You're kidding. How in the name of all the gods was he not fried to a cinder?"

Giles shrugged. "The witch in question was his best friend. It's a long story."

Before either Yelena or Ethan could say something else, Riley said "As nice as it is to catch up with you, Giles, we need to go."

Ethan looked at him in surprise. "Why?"

"Because HQ wants us back in the field. We've got work to do." Riley answered, speaking to Ethan as though he was a child.

"How exactly do you expect me to help you with that?"

"The same way you've been helping for the last four years or so." Riley was beginning to wonder if the spell had scrambled Ethan's mind somehow.

"Didn't you hear me when I said I was burnt out? I've got no magic, mate. Couldn't even transfigure a fly. I'll be only slightly less useless than Ru here."

"Hey!"

"Face it, Rupert, you know next to nothing about magic. You'd be a liability more than anything." Ethan said, smirking.

"Burnt out?" Riley repeated before the two Britons could get into an argument. "As in, you've got no magic?"

"Yup." Ethan looked down at his hand again. "Exactly like that."

Giles looked at Ethan. Assuming that Ethan was telling the truth (which was, based on past experiences, rather unlikely) then Ethan had to have voluntarily burnt himself out to save Rory. Ethan was right; compared to him, Giles knew very little about magic. But Giles was sure that Ethan had known exactly what he had been doing when he'd burnt himself out.

The question was, why had he done it? Magic had been the very core of Ethan's being, more even than Willow. While he'd never gone to magical drug dealers like she had, Ethan was every bit as much of an addict. He had used his magic for every little thing, even things that were easier to accomplish by hand. Giles couldn't imagine him giving all of that up for Rory. He could've easily have said that there was nothing that he could've done. Sure, that would've lead to him and Xander beating him to within an inch of his life, but at least he'd still have his magic.

"Is he telling the truth?" Riley asked Yelena.

Yelena moved across and put a hand on Ethan's forehead, just as she had with Rory. Ethan shivered. Her hand was freezing. "He is."

"Why?" Giles asked, before he could stop himself. "Why did you do it?"

"The spell demanded a sacrifice. If it had worked the way I'd planned, it would've taken Rory's humanity, and you'd have had no chance to get it back. But it didn't, so I gave it my magic instead. Although do me a favour and don't let anyone touch the amulet. It's still active."

Riley seemed satisfied, but Giles wasn't. "You didn't have to do it, though. You could've done nothing, and we would have had to call in someone else. Why did you do it, Ethan, really?"

Ethan smiled. "Let's just say that I'm not a completely bonkers adrenaline junkie."

It seemed as though the older Gilmores seemed more concerned about Jason and the fact that Lorelai hadn't told them about the fact that she was dating Luke than Xander's presence, which was good. He didn't particularly want to be interrogated about his job when he wasn't entirely sure whether his cover story would hold water.

He went back over to Rory. "How was that?"

"Good. Is Luke really wildly in love with Lorelai?"

"God, yes. Couldn't you tell? I thought he might've been your dad, when I first came through town."

"Really? I didn't – he never said anything."

"I'm betting Lorelai didn't either." Xander said. "Anyway, would you mind if I make a call before we actually get started on this romantic dinner thing?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Xander pulled out his phone and hit a number from speed dial. The other person picked up almost before he had brought the phone to his ear.

"This really isn't a good time, Xander." Willow growled.

"Why'd you answer so quickly, then?"

Silence. Then "I jinxed my phone, okay? I thought I might get into a situation where I don't have use of my hands, and I might need to call someone for help."

"So, are you quite literally tied up at the moment?" Xander asked curiously.

"Something like that. Anyway, would you mind hurrying up, please? There's something in the middle of me right now."

"Don't you mean you're in the middle of something right now?"

"No."

Xander had a sudden mental image of Willow tied to her bed, with Kennedy. He instantly felt kind of nauseated, because Willow was the closest to a sister that he had, and he ireally/i didn't want to be thinking of her in that way. On the other hand, he also felt slightly aroused, because he was still a hot-blooded male, and ithat/i was so much more erotic than linoleum.

"Oh, my God, Will! Next time you're in town, you are so going to have to whip up one of your memory spells. I totally need brain bleach, now."

"Seriously, Xander, what did you want? Hurry up."

It took several seconds before Xander got back to the matter at hand. "Oh, right. Yeah. Well, would you be able to make the Council look like a charity that helps young girls? It's for my cover story down here. I'm pretty sure that some people are going to be taking a real long, hard look into it quite soon. And I just realised that I'm talking to you about long hard things. Not that you're into that kind of thing, these days… oh God, I wish I could wipe my own memory."

Willow laughed. "Don't worry about it. But yeah, I'm sure I can whip something up. How soon do you need a complete history of a fictional charity for?"

Xander looked over to where the elder Gilmores were still arguing with Jason and Lorelai. "Oh, I'd say you have at least a couple of hours."

"Oh, good. It might be a while until I can get around to it."

"God, Will, I didn't need to know that. Anyway, I've got to go, I need to stop before I get embarrassed to death. Say hi to Kennedy to me. On second thoughts, don't. Argh! Anyway, thanks, Will, see you some other time you're fully dressed." Xander hung up before he could say something else that would mean that he'd never be able to look Willow in the eye again.

After spending a moment unsuccessfully trying to scrub his memory of the events of the last couple of minutes, Xander turned back to Rory. "Shall we dine, Milady?" he asked, extending his arm.

Rory took it, beaming. "Let's."