From the cover of the shadows, Sunnydale was watched. This was not so strange, before it was by the vampires and demons that occupied the budding city. Now it was by invaders of their new world. These invaders were the Drow, relatives of Drizzt Do'Urden and confused by the common arrogance of their kind: that they were superior. But for all that Sunnydale seemed weak, it was not.

In the months since Allan Finch had given his speech, Sunnydale had redoubled its efforts, rebuilding and reincarnating itself. Although it was only a few short months, significant changes had come about. At this point, the changes were not so great, but they had opened the gates towards greater improvement.

The police chief, always an incompetent, had been disposed and people had come together to develop a new police force. The result was a strange amalgamation of people, languages and techniques. The traffic department, become superfluous by the lack of fuel, was dispersed among the other departments; corrupt officers were sought out and quarantined from the new crop of officers; and experienced members of the Military Police resigned and began training the new police force.

All of these corrupt former cops tried spilling the beans on others. Sometimes this was true, like in the case of the former chief, but others were quickly proven false, like the several accusations put against Mayor Wilkins. After everything he had done for Sunnydale, hardly any citizen of the new nation believed it and the allegations were quickly forgotten almost as if they had never been voiced.

Other areas that were affected by the changes were the diplomatic situation with Sunnydale's neighbors. The stone giants had decided to trade with Sunnydale and had given three herds of rothe, the strange bantha like creatures, to Sunnydale. These were grazed on a series of peaks and islands isolated by the lake that Sunnydale's arrival had created. People were not used to dealing with such large animals and were very surprised by the amount of food they required. However, when they learned the beasts were able to feed on the strange fungi growing in parts of the mountain city, they eagerly colonized the strange stone-hewn city. It was strange living in such a dark area, but the military engineers had fastened lights to several buildings, brightening the city considerably.

This had solved a few of the problems involved with the massive over population and lack of resources. Some buildings were closed for the winter, mainly those without the winter conversion needed to survive in the new climate. These were boarded up, the contents removed and the people and animals relocated. Outlying warehouses were converted into barns, with new slanted roofs built on existing flat roofs. This created a new level that could store goods and feed for the animals they now depended on for food and clothing while housing those same animals in the area below.

Sunnydale, at first hesitant with the large population of orcs, now embraced them. Most members of this native species was stronger than the average human and were willing to do just about anything if it could be described to them in terms they could understand. They now trained side by side with the new Sunnydale Self Defense Force in a strategy put forth by their new leader. Drill sergeants were quick to remind all members of the military force that the color of your skin, be it white, black, green or any other shade, the only thing that mattered was the color of the uniform. The orcs were having trouble with this drastic change. Some orcs had fought against human settlements for decades and were now told to fight side by side with them. There was a schism building in the orc community between the young and the old which also tended to coincide with the split between the followers of Ilneval and the followers of Gruumsh.

Ilneval's shaman, the new orcish leader, was pushing for reforms towards controlled power and strikes, exactly what the humans of Sunnydale chose every day. He knew that the kill-everything mentality that pervaded in the followers of Gruumsh would only hurt his rise to power. They would also kill him if they had half the chance. Unlike the stereotype of his people, he was no fool and was the perfect follower of his deity: cold, careful, and calculating. Capable of incredible destruction if pushed too far or if the goal was worth it. He considered pulling the orcish tribes out of barbarism a goal well worth it. So he had started hammering his clan into something Ilneval would be proud of, a fighting force made more powerful than anything else in the Realms. He was quite sure his deity would welcome humans as well as orcs. Ilneval was not as blind to change as Gruumsh was. The pun was intended.

He used the tactics of the Sunnydale drill sergeants to train the clan, unifying the clothing and tactics of his orc fellows. He, with the help of Sunnydale's budding garments industry, had developed a patch, a bloodied sword crossed with a machine gun, which was on every uniform of every orc warrior that adopted the new tactics. It unified them as one, something the previous leaders had failed to do. He also chose the most intelligent of the young orcs and commanded that they attend the human school. These few, only fifteen out of the three hundred seventy three orcs that survived, were smarter than the average human, but not as smart as the human geniuses. His goal was to achieve a greater unification of peoples than had ever been seen before in the Realms. Although he still wanted to keep orcs orcs, a little extra intelligence in the form of a few half orcs would not hurt any. The first step in that goal was gaining acceptance in the human society. In his way, the Shaman was as ambitious as the Mayor was in his.

He also stretched out a hand to the tanaruuks, those demon orcs that had attacked Sunnydale some months ago. They were stronger and smarter than the average member of his species; having been selectively bred over several centuries. These former members of the Scoured Legion were well trained, intelligent and were leaderless. Although some of the humans had been opposed to the two groups making greater contact, since the tanaruuks were technically a foreign army and prisoners of war, the orcish leader had convinced them that it was a good idea. The closest thing the tanaruuks had to a leader was the young human known as Xander Harris 2. He had no idea why a human would have a number for a name, but humans were strange.

This Xander Harris 2 was strange because he was a man of peace, something of an anathema to the Shaman. He claimed that he had dressed as something called the Dolly Llama for some semi-religious celebration known as Howl-Ween. The Shaman did not understand why someone would call one's self a Child's Toy-Herd Animal, but once again, humans were strange. (The Shaman only knew what a llama was because a small herd had arrived with Sunnydale). Apparently this Dolly Llama was some kind of religious leader who professed peace before war and was considered to be a great man. By dressing up as this Dolly Llama, Xander Harris 2 had gained his power due to some kind of magical spell. It was something the Shaman was considering attempting himself.

"So, tell me Xander Harris 2, why are you so opposed to my involving myself with your prisoners," The Shaman asked, sitting down at the table with the young human.

"I just don't think it's right that you make them fight," the boy replied. "They finally get to rest and now you want them to fight again. They don't know anything else and I think they'd make great farmers."

"But Sunnydale needs Warriors," the Shaman commented. "Without protection, all of this could easily be destroyed."

"If everyone chooses peace, there is no need for warriors," countered the young human.

"I cannot understand that mentality," The Shaman growled, ripping a piece of his meat from the bone. "You are nothing but a dreamer."

"But I'm not the only one," answered Xander Harris 2. It seemed to the Shaman that it was a practiced line, perhaps from one of their many songs. "Perhaps one day you will join us? The Buddha teaches that everyone has their plan."

"Bah! Ilneval sees the battle field and he plans accordingly," The Shaman growled, drinking heavily from the wine bottle. The Shaman had become quite fond of this Shard-on-aye drink and it was clearly a warrior's drink. "That is the only plan I need follow."

"But when the battlefield changes to farm land, the plan has to change," said the interdimensional twin of Alexander Harris with a grin.

"Bah!"

"McGristle verses the People of Sunnydale!" The bailiff called out just as the judge walked in.

"McGristle, you stand accused of assault, premeditated attempted murder and conspiring to abduct and/or murder one Drizzt Do'Urden, a citizen of Sunnydale," stated the Judge clearly in the hushed courtroom. She was a woman in her late sixties and she looked like she knew how to pummel with a gavel, not just use it in court. The man in question had long since turned a beet red color from trying to control his rage at being accused of attacking a drow. "How does the defendant plead?"

"My Client would like to put forth a plea of not guilty, your honor," said the public defender. He had a rumpled suit and a moth bitten tie and looked like he had just rolled out from under the bar from the previous night's bender. Even hours later he looked like he was about to keel over ever time he stood up.

"I expect your client knows the consequences for contempt of court by now, am I correct?"

"Yes, I believe he has learned his lesson after the fourth time he has been held in contempt, your Honor," the defense lawyer stated, just a slight burr in his speech giving away the not-quite sober state he was in.

"Good. The trial will begin in one week," the Judge said, waving the gavel at the two sides. "This is going to be open to the public, so no shenanigans, you hear me?"

"Yes, Ma'me," said both the prosecution and the defense. They both looked scared of her.

"I'll be watching you two," she threatened, glaring at them with squinting eyes. "He is being held without bail as he is a potential flight risk."

"But Your Honor!"

"No buts, Mister! I'll see you all in one week. Bailiff, call the next case."

'So this is Sunnydale,' thought Jarlaxle to himself. He was looking out at the bright landscape, lit up in the night's sky. They had arrived at an unnoticed tunnel, the entrance disguised by a boulder. You would never know there was an entrance to a cavern unless you were almost standing in it. 'It's bigger than I expected.'

"So this is where Drizzt lives," muttered Dinin Do'Urden under his breath. "More impressive than I expected. It's nothing like the little isolated human hovels I've seen before. These humans have a little more in the way of civilization."

"Dinin, that is most forward thinking, I'm surprised," the mercenary leader said with a smirk. "Be too clever and I might have to start thinking about your replacement."

"That might be a good idea," Dinin said grimly in a particularly un-Drow-like manner.

"What ever could you mean?"

"I mean that my brother is a demon," Dinin said in a depressed tone.

"How so?"

"He is more skilled than I am by far," Dinin said in a rare moment of honesty. "He outstrips me far beyond my ability to comprehend and he just surrenders to it like an animal defending his territory. He destroyed our sister almost without thinking. I am not looking forward to fighting him again."

"Perhaps you won't need to?"

"No, I will. I don't want to, but I will." The Drow formerly of House Do'Urden paused a long moment. "It is difficult to comprehend the fact that I am going to die soon." He paused again. "No, the comprehension is easy, acceptance is not."

"You have convinced yourself of this?"

"No, the facts convinced me of this."

"How so?"

"I can do one of two things: Face him, which is certain death," Dinin said, his face resigning to fate, "or run away, which means I would be hunted down as a rogue, just as my brother is now." He paused as he saw the bemused look on the mercenary's face. "You're grinning. What?"

"She's got you doing it now too: the rogue has become your brother again," Jarlaxle said with a chuckle. Dinin sighed.

"I AM doomed then," the former weapon master said. His mercenary leader laughed outright at the top of his lungs.

"If Drizzt has you in this kind of mood, I want to meet him more than ever," commented Jarlaxle without an ounce of sarcasm. "What scares you the most about him?"

Dinin thought long and hard about everything he knew about his long lost brother before replying. "His only ambition is personal. There was never a thought of rising up in society at all. He only mastered himself, never anyone else. He outstripped even Zaknafien in that regard." He punched the rock beside him, not hard, but just enough to hurt ever so slightly. "He never had a social ambition in his life. When he became the best in his class, it wasn't because he wanted to be the best in his class, it was because he wanted to better himself FOR himself." He let loose a dry, harsh laugh. "They tricked him once. ONCE! And they never tricked him again, but they always underestimated him. He isn't short or weak; he just chose to not play the game. But by not playing he won every time."

"Why do you think Vierna is so drawn to him?" Jarlaxle pulled out a surface fruit, something the humans called an "apple" and took a big bite. It had a most satisfying crunch.

"There is a bond between them stronger than almost any other bond, or perhaps it is bonds, so many strands wrapped into a rope," Dinin said, taking an offered apple from the mercenary leader. "First of all, they are true siblings with the same father as well as mother. In other terms I would be their elder half-brother. Also Vierna is more like a mother to Drizzt than Malice ever was. She raised him, taught him the power of Drow magics and fed him like mothers of any other race would raise their young. She never coddled him, punishing him with the whip if he made the slightest mistake. Perhaps that is part of his constant goal to better himself, something he continued from that young age."

"That explains rather much, actually," Jarlaxle said. "Oh and you aren't supposed to eat the seeds of these 'apples.' But when concentrated they make a powerful poison."

"Why am I not surprised?" Dinin looked at the apple in his hand, the core exposed to the moonlit air. "Rather like Menzoberranzan: beautiful in appearance and elegant in taste, but deadly at the core."

"Dinin the poet, will wonders never cease," snarked Jarlaxle.

"Meh, it's just the prospect of my impending death catching up with me," Dinin muttered grimly. With a snort he tossed the half eaten apple into the bushes and stalked off into the night. Jarlaxle watched silently as one of his scouts followed the weapon master from a safe distance. After a moment, he turned and walked back into the cavern.

If he had stayed he might have spotted the two figures watching them from another peak, a single humanoid figure with a stalking panther silhouetted against the night sky.

Drizzt watched as the mercenary leader wandered back inside the cavern that lead to the Underdark. He had spotted them two nights ago. One of the scouts had come a little too close to a hidden perimeter camera set up by the SSDF some weeks before. He had been called in and had taken the initiative to inspect the area himself.

The drow scouts had magical trinkets to detect scrying or other types of magic, but they had no skill in the mundane forms of observation utilized by the Sunnydale military. Hidden in rocks, the camera was powered by a battery swapped out weekly, but the images were transmitted regularly to the base. The camera was motion triggered and the sound was such that a scout unfamiliar with the technology could easily mistake it for a snapping twig.

Gwen growled lowly, recognizing the people who kept her a virtual prisoner for centuries. Drizzt stroked her neck, calming her down. Slipping down from his perch, Drizzt pulled out his blaster and checked the reserve power; three quarters power. Enough for seven shots and then he would have to recharge the battery. He knew from personal experience that the drow resistance to magic was useless against the powerful weapons.

No one knew he was out here. He was able to stay hidden and slip through the perimeter easily. Since he knew where the cameras were, he could easily escape detection by the cameras. Gwen didn't care, and would sometimes trigger them on purpose. She seemed to like seeing herself in the printouts. The cat was a little strange at times. Drizzt brought himself back to the issue at hand. Using a pair of binoculars, Drizzt spotted his brother and a scout wandering away from the cave. Three other scouts were in other directions, just barely in hearing distance of each other. If he wanted to take one out, he would have to be fast.

The rogue drow could feel the Hunter want to come out, but Drizzt pushed it back down. This is something that Drizzt would have to do, not the hunter. He wanted to capture one after all, not kill them. After his encounter with his evil-twin, he had developed a few new tactics to deal with his brethren and had brushed up on a few of the old ones.

The first was to come from behind. If they couldn't see your heat, they couldn't attack you. The second was to always take advantage of surprised. And the third? Well that was something he got from some of Xander's comic books. Drizzt might not be a swinging playboy by day, but he thought that some of the tricks Bruce Wayne used could be well adapted to fighting his fellow Drow. He had briefly considered calling himself Bat-Drow, but it just didn't seem to work.

These scouts were good, and they had plenty of experience working together. He glanced over to the south where a SSDF team was scheduled to patrol that night. He was not the only one who had seen the photos. Perhaps they could be used as a distraction if he could manage to keep the Drow force from coming out in their full numbers. He wanted to scare them and that was never an easy thing to do to a superior force.

He saw his chance as his brother wandered further away to relieve himself. As stealthy as his companion, Drizzt followed Gwen through the rubble-strewn valley. The most important part was hiding from the scouts he hadn't spotted. Soon, Drizzt was directly behind his brother's tail. Swooping down, Drizzt pressed the barrel of the blaster into the scout's back and pulled the trigger a moment before the other Drow could send out a warning call. Gwen picked up the Drow in her powerful jaws and ran back towards Sunnydale, just as she had been advised before the fight began. The scout should be out long enough for the panther to deposit him in the Initiative cell. She was careful not to harm him too much, but the scout would be quite sore when he awoke.

Drizzt turned his attention to his elder brother. He remembered the stories of how Dinin's murder of their elder brother had allowed Drizzt to live. In some twisted sense, the brutal Drow standing before him was responsible for Drizzt's life and for all the chaos his existence had brought to Menzoberranzan. Dinin, a warrior before all else, never heard Drizzt approach from behind him. Luck was with Drizzt; the moon was behind them both.

The first thing Dinin noticed was the shadow falling on him. Suddenly alarmed, he pulled the sword at his belt. Spinning around, he saw the shadow grow as the specter of the living demon he had feared for years stood before him. The moon cast its stark shadow on Dinin, but the silhouette turned the already imposing Drizzt into an personification of death and horror. Drizzt said nothing as the sword fell from Dinin's hand.

Petrified, Dinin waited for the fatal and final blow to fall…and it didn't. That scared him more than anything else. The creature that was his brother seemed to tower over him, growing in the brutal silence of the night. Dinin cowered, his madness and fear growing larger than his ingrained Drow superiority complex. The weapon master fell to his knees. He saw the specter of his doom raise an arm and a strange barrel contraption pressed against his chest. There was a sudden pain an instant before blackness consumed everything.

Drizzt looked down at his brother's unconscious body. No way was it that easy! Suddenly nervous, Drizzt glanced around; seeking out the scout he had missed. Seeing nothing, Drizzt quickly picked up the other drow and started back towards the city, keeping to the shadows and staying amongst the cover.

From the cliffs around Sunnydale, Buffy Summers watched Drizzt capture the two drow. She had been wondering what Drizzt had been doing for the past two nights, sneaking out before she came back from her nightly patrol of the cemeteries. She was wearing her favorite pink jacket, the only one thick enough for the colder weather and had been following Drizzt nonchalantly from a short distance. She thought he had noticed her when she had snapped her gum, but Gwen had flicked her ears and that had been the end of it.

She had never really understood the extent of her Slayer powers. She knew that she was able to hide in plain sight easy enough, but it seemed if she didn't want to be seen, she wouldn't be. Just like now. She'd spent the last hour watching Drizzt watch the Drow and she was a little bored. Now that he had taken a couple of the drow scouts, she was considering calling it a night, but there was a part of her that wanted to fight.

Neophyte vamps were few and far between these days now that they were a known threat. People carried crosses, stars of David and whatever holy symbol they used on a regular basis. It was kind of funny, but the spell they used to protect Willow's house from Angelus had called for crosses because the writer of the spell was Christian, not because there was any special effect that only crosses could create. It had kept Angelus out only because they believed that it would. Once that little bit had been cleared up holy symbols were the new jewelry craze. They came in a variety of forms, the single pendant as the most popular, but there were some chains made only of holy symbols. It was a lot harder for a fang face to get a bite when everybody and their brother were wearing a holy symbol around their necks and that made the vamps weak. And weak vamps were easy pickings for the Slayer.

But the Slayer wanted to fight. Buffy wasn't able to kill off the majority of the demons still residing in the town, but she kept feeling them. She'd take out the occasional one-eyed-one-horned-flying-purple-people-eater (what a sight to see), but for the most part she had to reign in the Slayer.

But here was something they, Buffy and the Slayer, could fight. Drow. And by all accounts they were formidable opponents. In moment of poor judgment, Buffy decided to take in a few of the Drow herself. Running down the hill, she threw a rock at one of the guards, trying to distract him, but it had the opposite effect, and attracted the attention of three others.

Buffy had given up the element of surprise and it was now used against her. Now, a Slayer has improved sense over that of a human, but their best sense was only for that of demons. She had better hearing and eyesight than a human or an elf, but her demon sense had no effect on humanoids. Buffy, having fought the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness for so long, had learned to rely on that demon sense far too much.

When the poisoned bolts hit her side, she glanced franticly in the direction they came from. To the west she saw three more drow come pouring out of their hiding places, their swords out of their scabbards and crossbows aimed at her. Pulling the poisoned bolts out of her side, Buffy could feel herself start to fade away, the poison still fairly potent even for the Slayer. With a look of grim determination, Buffy hefted a rock the size of a small child and lobbed it at the approaching drow. She missed them entirely, but the resulting rain of debris slowed them down considerably.

Buffy pulled out her emergency stake from her boot and threw it straight at the first drow she spotted, hitting him just below the ribcage. He wasn't prepared for this and toppled backwards stunned and wounded, but still very much alive.

Buffy squeezed the bolt wounds shut, but it wasn't doing much good. The poison was already in her system and even her Slayer metabolism was having a hard time working through the lethargy provoked by the foreign compound. With a snarl, the Slayer threw a bolt back at the Drow who threw it. It hit him in the shoulder and he winced as he noticed the large amount of poison still on the shaft. By the time he pulled it out, he was already starting to feel the affects. He fell to the ground a moment before Buffy fell herself. The wound was healing, but she would still be out for a time.

Watching from above, Dark Willow contemplated the fate of her friend. Should she save Buffy? Or should she remain an observer until things became truly dire? What would Tara expect her to do?

That answer came easily. Tara would want her to save Buffy.

Teleporting in front of the scouts hefting Buffy back to the cavern, Willow shot a bolt of energy at one of them, only to watch it dissipate. She cocked her head.

"Interesting, you seem to have a powerful resistance to magic," Dark Willow commented. She used the tone one would to say, "the coffee is ready" or "isn't it interesting how covalent bonds form?" The Drow scouts were not amused and quickly fired their crossbows at the hovering witch. Dark Willow simply waved her hand and the bolts melted into puddles on the ground despite the fact they were primarily made of wood. "It is simple enough to deal with you. All I have to do is not target you directly."

Waving a hand and speaking a quick prayer invoking Hecate, the Greek goddess of magic, the air shivered and suddenly the scouts were clawing at their throats. "It seem you cannot breathe mustard gas any better than a human. Tell me, do you burn as easily?"

With that, she spoke an arcane word, and flame burst forth, striking another drow. He himself was not harmed initially, but his clothing did catch fire. The flames rolled over him; his magical resistance useless to the natural fire clawing it's way up to his head. When the clothing was expended, the fire crept up his long hair and continued onto his skin. He died screaming.

The third drow fired again to no affect. Willow simply wiggled her nose at him and the drow suffered an instant concussion as a 100k block materialized above his head and fell. Now there was only one left. He took a look at Willow in all her veiny goodness and took a look at his crushed companion. He hit her with a globe of darkness and wisely ran away.

Willow dispelled the magical darkness with a derisive wave of her hand, but the scout was gone. He would inform his fellows no doubt. Scowling down at Buffy's unconscious form, Dark Willow levitated her sort-of friend and flew away towards the city. Buffy awoke as they were half way there, the hyperactive Slayer healing having repaired the damage she took with no visible scars.

"Ack! Flying!" Buffy said as she watched the ground move beneath her.

"Yes, we are," said Dark Willow as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Ack! Evil Willow!"

"That's not exactly correct," Dark Willow said. Her tone had no emotion, leaving it a stark monotone that disturbed Buffy. "Good and evil are abstracts that have increasingly less importance in the real world. Instead they are labels added to make things more complicated."

"Umm….okay?"

Dark Willow sighed. "I'm not evil, I just…went through a dark period in my life before I was transported here."

"Like what?"

"My girlfriend was killed in front of me by a bullet meant for you," the powerful witch explained. "You were killed by the second volley. I couldn't bring back either of you that time. I took matters into my own hands."

"Wait, girlfriend? Do you mean…?"

"Do I mean that I am gay?" Willow asked. "I suppose it does."

"Oh."

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"Uh, I don't know." Buffy said honestly. "It's a little confusing. All of it."

"To say the least," the witch replied. "In the time after your death I cleaned up Sunnydale."

"Cleaned up?"

"I closed the Hellmouth with the help of Spike and Faith," Willow continued. "They died. The next Slayer to be called was a young woman known as Vi. She lasted three years before Angelus killed her. He had taken control of a demonic law firm known as Wolfram and Hart. They had powerful magical protections, but how we dealt with the Judge and Mayor Wilkins taught me to remember physics and chemistry. I simply diverted a small rain of meteors that destroyed the building. The force of the impact ignited fuel lines and incinerated anything that remained."

"Wait, the Mayor?"

"Yes, it was complicated," Willow said. "With Wolfram and Hart destroyed, I sought out the next Slayer. The Council got in the way and I was forced to deal with them. I was perfectly willing to go the extra mile to ensure the survival of the Slayers. The next was named Sadako and lived in a village outside Kyoto, Japan. She lasted five years, but was drowned in a well. By this point, Giles was not pleased with what I was doing, even if I only had the best in mind for Earth."

"He teamed up with a coven in Devon, England and tried to kill me," Willow explained. "I escaped the first attack, but the second was about to take place when I found myself here."

"You-you killed Angel?"

"Yes, but do try to keep up. It seems it is entirely too easy to remove a soul from a vampire and much harder to return a soul to one," the dark witch replied. "Angelus needed removal. Wesley helped as did others like Gunn and Fred."

"You keep saying names that you seem to think I should know, but I've never heard of them," Buffy said.

"Your timeline diverged before they could come into your life," Willow said in a cold voice. "I see people in Sunnydale every day that were dead in my timeline. It is like walking through a city of ghosts."

"You aren't my Willow," Buffy said, just a little scared.

"No, but I used to be." They flew a while in silence. They paused in midair as the Dark Willow paused to gather her thoughts. "I think that I had lost too much. Ta-my girlfriend, you, Oz, Spike, Faith, Dawn, Giles, my parents, Sunnydale. Everyone and everything I cared about would die or abandon me. Everything seemed simpler if I didn't worry about the numbers or the casualties. So I didn't. I accomplished so much, but now I question if it was worth it."

Dark Willow lowered them both to the ground outside the vineyard. Buffy turned to her and looked up at the taller woman. "But what about now?"

"I am stuck here as surely as all of you so I will continue to do what I've been doing for years: protect Sunnydale and the Slayer," Willow said flatly in that same haunting monotone.

"Uh, thanks, I think…"

Dark Willow said nothing and few away. Buffy kept feeling her gaze drawn to the building at the center of the vineyard. She shook herself inwardly and started back toward the city proper. Almost back, she paused a moment as a though struck her.

"Wait a minute, she liked Spike? That WAS a freaky world."