"Whatever that was last night, it was very popular," Delilah said.

Trick glanced at her as they walked down the hall in the CRD sub-basement. "That? That was a rare treat." He touched the knot of his scarlet tie. "How's Brute Force coming along?"

Delilah nodded as her heels click-clicked along the tiles. "I think we've gathered up every possible asset and divided them into shifts assigned to the area around City Hall."

"Above and below ground?"

"Yes, sir. We have a presence in the tunnels and we've secured space in structures that give us a full view of City Hall. We established a staggered schedule so that there isn't a single huge changeover that would attract attention."

"Nice detail." Mr. Trick stopped and snapped his fingers. "Before I forget," he said, turning to Delilah, "there's a Cool Cube in the walk-in freezer. Could you arrange to have that delivered to City Hall? And be sure to let the Mayor know it's coming."

Delilah made a quick note on her legal pad. "Consider it done."

"Have you heard from Gerard?" Matti leaned her forearms on the counter and stood on tiptoe.

Giles looked up from processing a new book. "No, I haven't."

To an observer, they presented quite a contrast: the tall, lithe gym teacher in her blue sweatpants, Cal written on the leg in gold script, her hair in an exuberant natural, the sleeves of her goldenrod-colored T-shirt stretched by her biceps, and the librarian, the sleeves of his rumpled oxford shirt rolled to the elbow, his red-and-gold tie slightly loosened, glen plaid vest unbuttoned, light reflecting off his spectacles.

Matti dropped onto her heels and slapped the counter with her hands. "Damn Canadian. Probably eating a late breakfast. Okay. I'll drop by after school, see if he's in."

"I'm sure he'll be here, and we'll be up to our eyebrows in the books." The Watcher pushed up his glasses. "Ms. Hollis, have you contacted the Knights?"

Matti bit her lip. "Not yet, but I'll have to in the next couple of days. I'm… I'm sort of procrastinating."

"Oh. Well, that's understandable. I will expect you after school."

"So, wanna Bronze tonight?" Xander slid into the desk and hitched his feet around to the front. Stray threads of yarn straggled out of the cuff of his maroon-and-gray sweater.

"Who's playing?" Willow asked.

"Marvelous 3. They're a band from Athens, I think. Georgia, not Greece."

"Oh, no, I thought they were part of the big Grecian prog-rock renaissance." Willow rolled her eyes. "I know Athens. It's where REM's from."

"Lotsa bands out of Athens. Big college town." Xander scootched around in his seat. "So, you in?"

"Sure," Willow said. "I don't have a lot on my plate these days."

"Well, now you just made it sad." Xander shook his head. "So, show's at nine, meet you there at eight-thirty?" The bell clanged.

Willow nodded. "Sure. Now, turn around." She waved a hand at him.

"Conformist," he muttered.

"I think I'm going to the Bronze tonight. You wanna hang?" Willow tossed her head and her hair swung from side to side as she walked down the hall.

Buffy considered the question. "Y'know, it's been an intense week… why not? Who's playing?"

Willow got wide-eyed. "The Marvelous 3."

"Marvelous– Oh, 'Freak of the Week'. I love that song." The Slayer put her hand on her friend's arm. "Tell you what, I'll make a quick patrol, check in with Angel, and meet you at. Sound good?"

Willow nodded. "The show's at nine, so you should have plenty of time."

Buffy cocked her head toward her friend. "Especially since nine means ten-fifteen."

Giles looked up as Matti pushed through the library doors, Cordelia behind her. "Ms. Hollis, um… Cordelia? What are you…?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "Providing the third wheel for the lameness tricycle."

Matti ignored her. "Have you heard from Gerard?" Matti had apparently taken part in whatever activity she had assigned for PE: a dark V of sweat dampened the front of her T-shirt, and instead of her warm-up pants she wore navy-blue shorts with yellow piping. A jingling noise caused Giles to look down. The laces of Matti's white Adidas Superstars were laced through her keys.

"No," the Watcher said. "Have you?"

"No, but he's probably running an errand. Last week, he went into LA looking for books."

Giles ran an index finger along the cover of an old volume. "True, but he told me about that."

Matti nodded. "Us, too. You think we need to pay him a visit?"

"I think that might be advisable." He glanced over Matti's shoulder.

"Huh?" Cordelia said. "Am I supposed to say something? I wasn't really listening."

"Here." Matti went down on one knee and unlaced her keys, then handed them to Cordelia. "I'm going to run an errand with Mr. Giles. Why don't you go on home, and…' The teacher switched legs and pulled a twenty from her sock "...I'm not sure how long this will take, so get some dinner." She stood and extended the money toward Cordelia.

Cordelia's lip curled as she held the bill away from her. "Y'know, if you're gonna give me foot money, it should be at least a fifty."

"You could always give it back." Matti held out her hand.

Cordelia pirouetted and was at the door in one motion. "See you later," she said over her shoulder.

Giles blinked. "Do you… do you often keep money in your sock?"

"Old playground trick. Gym shorts don't have pockets," Matti said. "Okay, let's go."

The Citroen pulled into the hotel parking lot. Matti stretched as she got out of the passenger seat. "How tall were the French back then? Five-six?" She reached out and caught Giles as he walked past her. "Hold on," she said. "Look." She nodded and the librarian followed her prompt. The silver Taurus sat there, the afternoon sun glinting off a thin layer of dust. Matti went to the car, leaving Giles standing by the Citroen's bumper. She touched the Ford's hood, looked inside through the window, crouched down and examined the tires, then straightened up and came back to the librarian's side. "I don't think it's been moved all day."

Giles nodded. "We need to see him." They walked past a white panel van with Spot-on Cleaners stenciled on the side and entered the lobby. The check-in area was manned by a sweating, harried-looking man of late middle-age. A roll of paper towels and a can of spray cleaner sat on the desk behind him. Giles began to moved toward the counter, but the Knight grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward the elevator, casting a huge smile and a wave toward the man, who did not appear to notice her.

"Don't look at him. Watch the numbers," Matti hissed, leading by example. The befuddled Watcher followed suit until the door dinged and they entered the elevator car.

"What was that?" he demanded as the doors closed.

Matti drew in a bushel of air through her nose. "You see the paper towels? The cleaner? There was black powder all over the door frame to the office. Five gets you ten it was fingerprint powder. There's crime scene tape visible inside the office, and I'd bet every dime I have that the van outside belongs to a biohazard clean-up crew. Part of the office carpet's already been cut away."

The red number changed to 4 and the door dinged as it opened. Matti stepped out, leaving Giles gaping like a fish for a moment before he hurried after her. The Knight had already stopped in front of a door by the time he caught up to her.

"Crap," she said, "if I had my car I could spoof this thing." She tapped on the lock. There was a slot to insert a card above the handle. Matti stared at it for a minute, then said, "Wait here" and headed back to the elevator. Giles was left standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hallway as the elevator dinged. He looked around, trying to think of something that would look less suspicious, and landed on standing in the alcove holding the ice machine, although the fact that he had no ice bucket would make any explanation difficult. Luckily, no one wandered past. The elevator dinged again, and he leaned out to see Matti striding down the hallway, a key card in her hand.

"What did you do?" Giles asked.

"Got us a way in and a little information," she said as she opened the door. They stepped into Gerard's room and looked around. The bed was perfectly made, the towels were folded on the bathroom counter. "The man downstairs is the manager. He's working the desk because the police have been here all day."

"The police?"

"Yup. Seems somebody killed the clerk last night and the manager gave everybody else the day off today. Seems nice enough, but he probably couldn't have gotten anybody to come in anyway."

"He told you all of that?" Giles asked, disbelieving. "He didn't realize that you were asking for the key that already had a guest?"

"He doesn't normally work the desk the room number wouldn't set off any alarm bells in his head, and he really wanted to help the nice lady whose husband forgot their keys… and I obviously asked some leading questions." She shook her head. "If he gave the staff the day off, that means nobody slept here last night. That's not comforting. You take the closet, I'll do the room."

Giles opened the closet door to reveal four suitcases and a row of neatly hung clothes. "What are we looking for?" he asked.

"No idea," she replied, "but we'll know it when we see it."

Fifteen minutes later, the librarian was sure that his friend traveled with more clothes than Giles owned. Matti stood in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, and turned a complete circle. "I didn't find a wallet or car keys," she said. "But his car is in the lot, and there's no sign he was ever here last night. I don't know what this is, but it doesn't feel good."

Cordelia paced the room for about the forty-seventh time. Her homework had taken roughly fifteen minutes; the teachers weren't even trying this close to the end of the year. Matti wasn't home and Cordelia considered ordering pizza, but the thought of waiting for somebody who'd had their license for six weeks to bring a lukewarm mushroom with light cheese made it feel like the walls were starting to close in.

The twenty lay there on the coffee table; Andrew Jackson mocked her. On impulse, Cordelia went into the guest bedroom, grabbed her black mini, dug out one of her few remaining nice tops (a red knit scoop-neck with long sleeves; she'd bought it the previous summer on a shopping trip to LA), and pulled it on. She slipped her feet into red Jimmy Choo pumps (another souvenir of that scorched-earth consumer caravan), scooped up the money as she strode past, and was in the 4Runner and backing out the driveway before she thought too hard about it.

Giles and Matti peered around the corner of the hotel. They had left Gerard's eerily untouched room and come down the stairs to avoid the front desk. Matti had Giles's pen in her hand, the cap held in her teeth as she wrote the phone number from the side of the white van on the inside of her left forearm. She capped the pen and gave it back to the Watcher.

"Let's find a phone," she said. They walked to the Citroen, as nonchalant as possible, then pulled out of the parking lot. Giles drove about halfway down the block, then pulled into the lot of a chain restaurant that had a pay phone outside its door. Matti jumped out of the car; Giles remained in the driver's seat while she dialed, then spoke. She nodded several times, then hung up and returned to the car.

"Definitely a biohazard cleanup," she said. "The lady said they are certified to handle jobs involving any, and she really emphasized the word any, bodily fluid, including BBPs."

"BB… Ps?"

"Blood-born pathogens." Matti leaned back in the seat; her natural was squashed against the sedan's headliner. "This is bad. We've got a car that hasn't moved since last night, a room that wasn't used, no keys or wallet, a murder that requires biohazard cleanup in the lobby." She exhaled heavily.

"He's dead, isn't he?" Giles's voice was flat and dull. "Trick killed him."

"Or the Mayor. That's the way I'd bet. Occam's razor."

The librarian's eyes closed, and he began to shudder. Matti sat quietly, her brain working furiously with the data she possessed, but unable to find any other answer that accounted for what they had discovered. Giles finally drew a shaky breath. "If you don't mind," he said, "I don't… I don't think I'm in any shape to drive."

"Sure." They exchanged seats. Matti put the car in gear. "Where to?"

The Watcher shook his head. "I can only think of home."

"Yeah," she said, looking over her shoulder to back the car out of the space.

"It's really not safe to be out alone after dark. Especially for you." Buffy crossed her arms and considered the lone vampire in front of her. He wasn't very tall and, even in the dark and at this distance, she could see that he was missing most of the fingers of one hand. He turned to face her; she did a quick scan of the area: sandbox to the left, asphalt trail and park bench to her right. A slight mist rose from the ground, but the grass wasn't so damp as to be slippery. The vampire took a few steps toward her and passed from shadow into the illumination of the street light. A wicked looking scar traced one side of his face; he looked a lot like a pirate.

"Hey, Long John Silver," the Slayer said. "You're not one of Trick's are you?"

The creature turned its head and spat. "I am not, Slayer."

"Why do you guys always say it like that… 'Slayyyy-er', like it's some big reveal. I know who I am." She popped her arm and a stake slid smoothly into her hand. "It's just so pretentious, like, didn't you watch Austin Powers? Don't you know how Dr. Evil is a joke?"

The vampire didn't have a clever riposte; he just charged. Buffy easily avoided the attack, stepping aside as he rushed past, ready for him to pivot and launch himself at her, but he didn't do that. He stopped and turned to face her.

"I am the last of my family," he intoned, "my eternal family. I saw them all die, and it's my shame that I survived. That debt will be paid tonight… either I will kill you, or I will join them."

"I'll go with door number two," the Slayer said.

"Your flippant words will do you no good… even if you kill me, he is still waiting, and he is a vile, treacherous foe. If I kill you, it will be mercy compared to what he will do."

"Jeez," Buffy said, "does the soliloquy gene come with the fangs?"

The vampire apparently had no comeback for that. He tried to bum-rush her and use his body weight, but Buffy dropped to one knee and levered up, flipping him over her shoulder. He landed heavily on his back and her stake pierced his heart before he could even gasp.

The Slayer stood up and looked down at the ashes blowing away in the breeze, then held up her stake and addressed it. "Not so deep as a well or wide as a church door, but it's enough, it will serve." She watched the last of the dust float away. "That's how you do it." She tucked the stake back in her sleeve and walked away. "Why can't I ever remember that stuff in class?"

Cordelia looked through the windshield and wondered if she was losing her mind. She hadn't been to the Bronze since… since before… She shook her head as she got out of the vehicle and stood for a moment. People were entering the club in groups of three and four as the last rays of the evening sun slanted across the door, mostly Sunnydale High students, but some who were obviously students at Crestwood or UCS. In a sort of daze, Cordelia crossed the parking lot, like an explorer returning to the site of a long-ago expedition or an adult revisiting their childhood home: it was at once familiar, and yet so different.

She went into the dim interior as waves of deja vu washed over her. It was at once overwhelming and yet so, so small. Had this been her kingdom, this few square feet of concrete floor? Had it really been the focus of her world? A sense of claustrophobia threatened to suffocate her; this was a terrible mistake. She turned toward the door…

"Cordelia, I'm surprised you'd show your face!" Harmony's voice cut through the hum and rumble of the club like a buzzsaw. The blond prom queen planted herself directly in front of her former mentor, as if daring the cheerleader to detour around her.

Cordelia stopped abruptly, and a switch came on in her head. "Harmony! Y'know, it's amazing how great minds think alike. I was just thinking the same thing about you." Harmony's face flushed bright red, and she scowled as a clearly audible giggle came from behind her. Cordelia allowed herself a small smile and stepped around her erstwhile protege, not as a loser forced to alter her course, but as a gunfighter who had outduelled her opponent at high noon and left a corpse in the dusty street. She ducked toward the entrance-

And almost ran over Willow. The redhead jumped, her eyes open wide in surprise. "Cordelia!" she exclaimed.

"That's my name, don't wear it out."

"Are you here to see the Marvelous 3?"

"Uh…" Cordelia looked past the redhead toward the door. "I was just leaving."

"Oh, no, stay!" Willow nodded vigorously. "They're very good… it'll be fun."

Cordelia opened her mouth, then out of the corner of her eye she saw Harmony and her cadre sulking at a table in the corner. The words that came out of her mouth almost surprised her: "Sure. Why not?"

"Goodie." Willow pointed at an empty table. "Let's sit there."

Cordelia blinked. "Uh, sure, I guess."

When they were seated at the high table, Willow said, "We haven't seen you here since… you know."

A slight frown creased Cordelia's forehead. "I haven't been feeling very… sociable."

Willow's expression was very grave. "I can understand… but, it's really good to see you."

"It is?" Cordelia sounded surprised.

"Yeah, it is." A girl stepped up to the microphone as the rest of the band filed onto the stage.

"I thought Oz's band might be the opening act," Cordelia said, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table.

"Nope," Willow said. "They've been too busy. These guys are called the Human Comedy." The band began to play, layers of reverb-heavy guitar washing over the crowd atop a basic, thudding drumbeat. A high spot in the back cast the girl singer in silhouette as she tossed her head in time to the music.

"Hey," Willow said as the girl began to sing in a high, clear soprano, "let's get closer."

"Uh, okay," Cordelia said and slid off her chair. They moved to the edge of the dance floor as the wall of guitars began to grow in intensity.

"Hey, Will, I-" Xander stopped short. "Cordelia?"

Cordelia held up a hand, index finger pointed up, and kept her eyes on the stage. Xander nodded and leaned close to Willow. "I'm gonna check out the merch table." He glanced at Cordelia again and slipped away.

Willow watched him go, then turned to Cordelia. "Did you enjoy that?"

The cheerleader let the question hang in the air, then said, "Little bit."

"Hey." Oz appeared at Willow's side.

"Hey, yourself," she said, grinning. "I didn't know you'd be here. Hi, Trey."

"Supporting the next generation of Sunnydale bands," Oz said.

Trey leaned around Oz. "Hi," he said to Cordelia, "Nice to see you, I mean, outside of school, and prom." He looked toward the stage, then back at the brunette. "Do you want to dance?"

Cordelia considered the question. "Sure," she said, and they headed toward the dance floor.

The doorbell to Giles's apartment rang, the sound no louder than normal, but both people in the living room jumped. The Watcher nodded to the Knight, then opened the door.

"It's just me." Stefan Warner had both hands at shoulder height. Giles stepped back, opening the door to allow Stefan to step inside.

"Okay," Matti said, "you're in for the night, right?"

"Yes," Giles said, his voice quiet and strained.

"We'll… we'll work it tomorrow, we'll find out what happened, but tonight we're at a dead end, right?"

"I know that," Giles said.

"I know you know it. I need to hear you say it."

He nodded. "Yes. We will take this up tomorrow."

"Okay." Matti paused for a moment, her fist clenched, then she turned to Stefan. "Take me home… but, first, run by the Bronze."

"Have you seen anything out of the ordinary?" Buffy leaned against a tree, the rough bark pressing into her spine.

Angel shook his head. "Not really. Every night a couple of vans go out, then they come back a few hours later. I assume that you're aware of that."

"Uh and huh. I usually run into one of them." The Slayer turned her head toward her brooding ex-love. "It's easier to do now that there's only one side."

"That's it." Angel lifted one shoulder. "Last night three vans left instead of two, but that doesn't seem earthshaking."

Buffy frowned. "No, it doesn't… but still…" She turned her head and caught Angel staring at her. For a moment, the air between them crackled with the electricity that neither of them could ever quite deny or extinguish. A fog crept into the edges of the Slayer's vision and she shook her head to clear it. "Um, I'll file that away… it's probably nothing, but at this point-"

Angel nodded. "Everything could be important."

"Yeah… hey, speaking of which, I ran into something weird earlier. I staked this vamp, and, apparently, he was the last of the Reverend's crew."

"How do you know that?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Trust me, he went on and on about it. Anyway, he kept talking about how he was waiting for us and he was going to do terrible things-" She noticed Angel's puzzled look "-the first 'he' was the vampire, the other 'he's' are whoever he… the vampire I staked… was talking about."

Angel put a hand to his forehead. "Oh, I see."

"I don't know who the 'he' that's going to terrible things is."

Angel thought. "Seems pretty obvious that it's Trick. Maybe the Mayor."

"Yeah, yeah, that's true… but, something about it bugged me." The Slayer bumped the side of her fist against a tree trunk.

Angel rubbed his chin. "Maybe it's not who it is. Maybe it's what he's doing."

"Also a possibility." Buffy shook her head. "God, I am just getting so tired of chasing our tails."

The dance floor at the Bronze was half filled with people swaying to the final song of the Human Comedy while Cordelia and Willow stood at the back of the dance floor. The girls bobbed their heads in time as the song reached the final fade-out and the quintet accepted the crowd's moderately enthusiastic applause. Human Comedy left the stage and the equipment changeover began. Cordelia felt pleasantly warm and flushed. She turned to Willow.

"So, I thought you and Oz broke up."

Willow nodded, still watching the stage. "We did."

"But, you guys still hang out all the time. That's, like, against the laws of nature."

The redhead looked at the cheerleader. "We stopped dating. We didn't become enemies."

"Everybody I know does just that when they break up."

Willow thought about that as she watched Oz talk to the members of the Human Comedy. "Well, we didn't break up because either of us met somebody we like more. We just sorta realized that we both had things we wouldn't give up for the other, and…" She shrugged, palms up.

Cordelia considered this statement and eyed Willow suspiciously. "Either that's maturity, or you're robots."

"Am I late?" Buffy slipped up beside Willow.

"Nope, show's just about to start." Willow nodded toward the stage.

"Good, good." Buffy nodded, slightly breathless and looked past Willow. "Oh, Cordelia, I'm sorry, I… I didn't see you, um…" The Slayer stuck her hands in her hip pockets and raised her shoulders weakly "...hi?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "It's okay. I'm kinda here on the spur of the moment."

"Guys," Willow said as three figures took the darkened stage, "Shhhh. Show's starting."

"Thanks for going by the Bronze," Matti said as she twisted the key in her front door's lock.

"No problem," Stefan said, holding the screen door open with one forearm. "You wanted to make sure she was okay."

"And that she hadn't wrecked my truck," Matti said as the door swung open. "So, see you tomorrow?"

Stefan stared directly into her eyes. "Are you calling it in?"

Matti's mouth screwed up and she shook her head. "Not yet. When we know for sure what happened to Gerard, then I will."

"He's probably dead, isn't he?"

"Probably." Matti crossed her arms, cupping her elbows with her palms. "No other good explanation."

"Well, he's a charming guy… maybe he met some young lady, swept her off her feet, and forgot to tell us that he's sleeping over." Stefan shrugged. "He's done it before."

"I know, and I thought of that, but… if that happened, why is his car at the hotel? Did he park it there, then ride with her to her place? Wouldn't they have just gone to his room instead? Plus, he's been incommunicado for over twenty-four hours, and I don't see him being that… enamored."

"True, that's not his style." Stefan stepped back as the screen door swung into place. "Your call, literally. I'm with you. See you tomorrow."

Matti watched him get into the Expedition, then closed her door and locked it.

It was almost, almost, like old times as the Slayerettes plus one exited the Bronze into a night that, while objectively warm, seemed almost cool after the humid interior of the club. Trey was easily the most animated.

"That was great, I mean, that was outstanding. Butch Walker is a god." He held out one arm. "Look at that… goose bumps, I mean, actual goose bumps!"

Buffy covered her mouth with a hand to conceal her grin-verging-on-a-giggle. "Are you going to be able to sleep?" she asked.

Trey shook his head, his long hair flying around his face. "I'm probably gonna have to play for, like, an hour, maybe two, to come down. Whoo!" He pulled his keys out of the pocket of his jeans. "You need a ride home?"

Buffy pretended to consider the question. "Sure. Plus, I think you need someone around for a while to make sure you level out." She looked at the other Scoobies. "See you guys tomorrow, if James Dean here doesn't wrap us around a tree." She grinned and walked into the night with Trey, his hands in constant motion.

"Well, if Buffy wasn't tired already, that ride's gonna exhaust her," Xander said.

"Yeah," Oz said. "Seriously intense about his music." He turned to Willow. "Ride?"

She nodded. "Okay." An awkward moment hung in the air. Xander looked at Cordelia, who stared back at him, her mouth set in a firm line.

"So, uh, Oz," Xander said, still pinned by Cordelia's stare, "room for one more in that van?"

"Sure." Oz managed to pack about eleven layers of meaning into one word. Xander ducked his head and followed them toward the van. About halfway to the vehicle, Willow turned around.

"It was good to see you, Cordelia. It was fun."

Cordelia blinked slowly. "Yeah, it was." She walked to the 4Runner. She drove through the dark streets of Sunnydale, processing the weird knowledge that, yes, it had been fun. The porch light was on and a light shone through the window of Matti's house as Cordelia pulled into the driveway. She shut off the engine and sat for a moment, a little overwhelmed by feelings she could not precisely define, then she sighed, picked up her purse, and went in. She closed the door, clicked off the porch light, and turned around.

"Gah!" Cordelia jumped, startled by Matti sitting in the arm chair. "What are you doing?"

Matti shrugged. "Just thinking."

"Were you waiting for me to get home?"

"Maybe."

Cordelia thought about that. "Thank you, unless you're going to get on me about taking the car, or coming in too late, in which case, you never said I couldn't and you're not my… mom."

Matti shook her head and smiled. "No, it's fine. I'm glad you went out. You need more of a life… but you should get to bed. Tomorrow's a school day."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "You certainly embraced that cliche." She shook her head and stepped toward the bedroom.

"Did you have a good time?"

The cheerleader stopped and turned around. "I did. Good night." She closed the door behind her. Matti smiled, then reached over and turned out the lamp and sat in the dark, thinking and looking out the window.

"Job's done, sir. Package delivered."

Trick leaned back in his chair, leaned back far enough to tilt his head and look up at the ceiling. "Good." He snapped forward. "I like to consider myself a rational businessman, but sometimes it's refreshing to get back to your roots and just be... mean."