Buffy met Willow on the sidewalk at the foot of the steps. She had on a black top with cap sleeves and a scoop neck over mushroom-colored moleskin pants. Black ankle boots completed the ensemble. "So, how was your night?"

Willow's hair was held back by a green headband, which picked up the flower appliqued on the front of her fuzzy royal blue pullover. "Frustrating. I keep compiling all sorts of data, but it's not coming together into anything solid. It's like, all factoids, no facts."

"Now, there's a catch phrase," Buffy said as they jogged up the steps. "What about your dangerous liaison?"

"Huh? Oh, Tyler." Willow made a face. "Nothing new, nothing's changed."

Buffy frowned. "I guess that's good news." She pulled open the door and let Willow go through. Two boys jostled in front of the teenage witch and scooted through the portal. The Slayer favored them with a dirty look. "I wish the end of the world could come for some people."

Willow waited for Buffy. "I did find one thing." She twisted a lock of hair around a finger. "I was searching the Sunnydale PD database, and I found an accident report."

"About the Seal?"

"No. It was filed yesterday. A silver Taurus went off the road and ran into a tree at the edge of Miller's Woods. The driver was pronounced dead at the scene."

Buffy's eyes grew wide. "Did Gerard drive a silver Taurus?"

Willow bit her lip. "I know his car was silver… or gray. I don't know what the model was."

The Slayer turned away, blinking. "I think maybe we know what Mr. Warner was doing yesterday morning."

Faith opened her swollen eyes. The world was canted sideways; the man outside the cage looked like he was standing on the wall. He was gradually restored to the proper perspective as she levered herself to a sitting position on the bed. She drew her knees and rested her feet on the edge of the bed frame as he hooked his thumbs in his belt and laughed. He looked over his shoulder at his partner. "She doesn't look so tough now, does she?"

Faith launched herself off the mattress. She'd walked the confines of the cage and tested the limits of her chain every night. She knew she only had one chance, and she was going to make it by-god count. She felt the manacle bite into her ankle, felt the skin break and warm blood begin to flow as she extended herself as far as possible. Asshole took his eyes off of her, he was going to pay. Her hand only cleared the bars past her wrist, but it was enough: she hooked the top of his uniform shirt and the tee he wore underneath, then surrendered to the pull of the chain and threw her body weight backward. He was pulled face-first into the bars with a sickening crack; his nose splintered against the steel shaft and Faith saw, with a weird and uncanny clarity, one of his front teeth spiral through the air while the other fractured into tiny shards that fell to the floor and jittered away. In her peripheral vision she saw the other guard reach behind him, and then the paralyzing numbness hit, blackness flooding the edges of her vision as she hung on and saw the guard at the switch realize that his partner was in contact with the bars. The thrumming stopped abruptly and her grip loosened; she fell back onto the grated floor as the guard slid down the bars, as loose as if all his bones had been removed. The dark Slayer winced as the other guard ran forward and pulled his buddy away, leaving a trail of blood smeared on the concrete floor. He triggered the mic on his lapel, then threw Faith a look of virulent hatred as he went to the switch.

"Knock yourself out, asswipe," she rasped. "You electrocuted your buddy." Her back arched as the current coursed through her and relaxed as the power was cut, then the pain flooded in, intensified by her adrenaline-flooded synapses. She rolled over and dragged her naked body to the bed as he reached for the switch again. Faith pulled herself up onto the bed frame. "Do your worst, Roscoe."

He did.

"Hey, Giles…" Buffy's voice died away as she spied the woman behind the counter.

"Mr. Giles isn't here today," the substitute said in a husky, cheerful voice. "I'm his sub, Ms. Brown." She had iron-gray hair and bright eyes behind tinted glasses. "What can I do for you?"

"Um, uh, nothing, I really needed to talk to Mr. Giles, I'm… considering… library science as a major, and he's been helping me. Sorry to bother you." The Slayer made an about-face and beat a retreat.

Florestan sat deep in the Mayor's armchair, his fingers tented in front of his face, looking more like he was hiding his expression than thinking. "Sir," the demon said, "again, I want to make my position clear… keeping that girl around is a bad idea. She wasn't even able to get out of her cage, yet she still almost killed a man."

"It was sloppy work on his part," the Mayor said. "I'll grant you that, but it's his own fault, and, as I understand it, most of the lasting damage was caused when his partner turned on the juice."

"He will require reconstructive surgery for his nose and cheekbone," Florestan said. "And skin grafts."

"See, there's that partner thing I was talking about." Wilkins sat back, a dreamy look on his face. "No, having her on a leash when I enter my kingdom will be a powerful statement."

The demon weighed his words carefully. "If a pet Slayer is your heart's desire, why not the Summers girl? Trick already has leverage against her."

"Hmmmm." Wilkins thought seriously, tapping his index fingers against his chin. "That's a real possibility… but this one, she's so… angry, so… damaged." He inhaled deeply, like an oenophile sampling a rare vintage. "No. I mean, if the Lehane girl dies and the Summers girl lives, then, yes, I'd go that way, but for now, let's leave things as they are." He abruptly sat up straight. "How are your preparations coming along?"

"If you decide to proceed in that direction, I can have everything ready by Sunday."

Wilkins frowned. "That long?"

"Yes. If I rushed, I could have it prepared by Saturday night, but this is a very complex incantation, so everything needs to be exactly right, plus, performing it on the first day of the week will add a little extra power."

"Well, if it has to be, it has to be." Wilkins nodded with a finality that indicated the meeting was over. "Let me know if you need anything else."

Florestan sat still as a statue for a moment, then unfolded from the chair and glided from the room.

"What's going on?"

"Hello to you, too." Buffy took a bite of her burger as Cordelia settled into a chair.

"Good to see you," Oz said.

Cordelia's face said she was trying to figure out the joke, but no punch line was obvious, so she settled for "Thank you".

Willow paused with a forkful of salad in midair. "Cordelia, what kind of car did Gerard drive?"

Cordelia shrugged. "It was an American car. I don't know the names of American cars."

"Was it silver?"

The cheerleader's expression hovered between annoyed and confused. "I think? Maybe gray?" She turned her focus to Buffy. "So, I repeat, what's going on?"

"Well, we're all a little concerned about that whole situation in the Middle East," Xander said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, this is an A/B conversation," Cordelia scoffed.

Xander looked confused. "A/B?"

"Yeah, see your way clear." The brunette shook her head and turned back to the Slayer. "Third time, which is supposed to be the charm, what's... going... on?"

The Slayer swallowed, then took a sip of her drink. "Could you put a little more of a point on that? Like, what, specifically, are you asking about?"

Irritation was etched on Cordelia's features. "Okay, simpletons. Yesterday, you all heard her kick me out of the house last night, then when I get back, she's basically the Sphinx, then, this morning… usually, she's a disgustingly motivated morning person, but this morning, it's like riding to school with dingus over there." She pointed at Xander with her knife, a motion that was a little too close to stabbing for comfort.

"You're talking about Ms. Hollis?" Willow asked.

"No, Mrs. Doubtfire. Who else's house am I living at?" Cordelia turned to the Slayer. "Why are you frowning like that? You'll get lines."

Buffy looked at Willow. "Okay, I"m gonna lay out a buncha stuff, most of it's guess-y, but it fits the frame."

"Wait a minute," Xander said. "Shouldn't we be walking and talking?"

The Slayer shot him a withering look. "Willow found the report of a single car accident out by Miller's Woods. It was a silver Taurus, and the driver was dead."

"Ohhhhhh," Cordelia said. "That's why… You think it was…?"

Buffy nodded. "Gerard. Mr. Warner said he was going to dispose of the body. What better way to disguise someone's death than to kill them again?" She paused for a moment for everyone to digest the information. "Ms. Hollis said she was going to call the Knights. Anybody want to bet that she didn't call them last night while we were out?"

"I wouldn't take that action," Oz murmured.

"And she's in a mood this morning." Buffy pushed her tray away. "Add it all up and the answer is duh. She called them, and whatever they told her is a major big deal." She looked around the table. "We need her to tell us exactly what's what. Anybody busy after school?" Negative responses were unanimous. "Then I'll talk to her this afternoon… unless you'd like to, Cordelia."

The cheerleader raised her hands. "Major 'no way'."

"Okay, let's meet after school to get the real dish."

Angel took a seat at his usual booth. "Anything new on the menu?"

"Nothin' you'd be interested in." Willy placed a shotglass on the table. "Taste of your usual."

"Thanks." Angel took a quick sip and rolled the fluid around in his mouth. "So, anything interesting happening?"

Willy turned to wipe down one of the free-standing tables. "I'm just an honest man tryin' to make an honest dollar."

Angel laughed. "Willy, you wouldn't recognize an honest dollar if it crawled into your lap."

The bar owner scowled. "Why you gotta be hurtful? I don't bust your chops. I ain't never claimed to be anything I'm not."

"That's true." Angel jerked his head toward the back. "What's his story?" There was one other customer in the bar, seated in a corner booth.

"Him? He ain't nobody, just an alp passin' through, kinda. Apparently, he was traveling with a woman, but it's kinda over… She wasn't very interesting, so he took her money and bailed."

"Great clientele." Angel downed what was left in his glass.

"Hey, don't get so high and mighty, I served you plenty a times when you didn't look so good. I'm just providing a service to folks who need it."

"Yeah, Willy, you're the soul of human kindness." Angel stood up. "I'm gonna visit the men's room." Willy nodded and turned back to his duties. Angel went into the back of the bar; minutes later there was the sound of a door opening, followed by a brief current of cooler air, a pause, then the sound and the breeze again. Angel came through and clapped Willy on the back, staggering the smaller man. "Take it easy, Willy."

"You know me, that's the only way I take it," the bartender replied.

The basketball in Matti's hands echoed in the empty gym as she idly bounced it from hand to hand. She was in the middle of the floor, smack in the center of the inlaid Razorback mascot. Buffy stood in front of her, arms crossed.

"You're right," Matti said.

Buffy blinked. "I am?"

"Yeah, why so surprised?"

The Slayer's mouth opened and closed before she spoke. "I guess I'm just not used to adults agreeing with me. It's usually more along the lines of 'hold your horses'."

Matti spun the ball on her index finger, then switched it to her middle finger. "Library's out, obviously. Where should we meet?" She dropped the ball and began dribbling again, weaving it through her legs.

Buffy uncrossed her arms, thinking. "How about my house?"

Matti stopped dribbling and grabbed the ball. "Will that be all right with your mother? And I mean 'all right' in many ways."

"The gallery doesn't close until five-thirty,so she should be at work. Any luck at all, we're done and you guys are out before she gets home and she's none the wiser."

Matti tilted her head and looked at the girl. "Don't you think she ought to know?"

Buffy reached out and slapped the ball out of the teacher's hands and grabbed it on the bounce. "I do not. My mom's been… the best through all this, but some things are too much, and this is one of those things." She bounced the ball once, then handed it back to Matti. "I'll trust you to get Giles there." The Slayer turned and left the gym, the click of her boot heels reflected off the walls.

Faith hugged her knees to her chest and peered over them, looking at the empty cell. Her ankle throbbed under the manacle, and her foot was crusted with dried blood; she could feel it tighten and flake between her toes when she wiggled them. Every time she shifted her weight, stinging pain lanced through the raw flesh. Her shoulder ached; she'd really extended to get to that guy. Add the bruises and scrapes on her upper back where she'd landed on the bars that made up the floor of the cage and she'd paid a high price just to break one chump's face.

And it had been worth every penny.

"Come on in," Buffy said. "You want anything to drink?"

"Well, aren't you the little hostess with the mostest," Xander said, rubbing his hands together.

"Grrrrrr," the Slayer mock-growled.

"I'd take a glass of hot water," Oz said.

Buffy was nonplussed. "Odd, but okay." Oz reached into the pocket of his mechanic's shirt (light blue with a vertical red stripe running down the right side) and pulled out a small plastic bag. He shook it slightly. "Ohhhhhh," Buffy said, "like, for tea."

"Exactly," Oz replied.

"Do you need a hand?" Willow asked, her forehead slightly furrowed.

Buffy turned around in the kitchen doorway. "I don't know… Do snacks seem appropriate for this kind of thing?"

"Snacks are always appropriate," Xander said, settling into a chair. "Don't be stingy with the snacks."

Willow rolled her eyes at him and went to join the Slayer. "I'll help." While the duo pulled out glasses and bowls, they heard the door open. The timbre of one voice was clearly Matti Hollis; the immediate sharp exchange with Xander confirmed the other one was Cordelia. Buffy looked at Willow, opened her eyes wide and blew out her cheeks, then picked up one of the trays while the redhead took the other.

"Here we go," the Slayer said, placing the tray on the coffee table.

"Stef'll be here in a minute. He's bringing Giles." Matti took a bottle of water and cracked the seal. Cordelia opted for diet soda, Xander for full-strength. Oz took his glass of hot water and dumped the contents of his baggie in.

Cordelia's nose wrinkled. "Did someone take off their shoes?" Everyone studiously looked away. The awkwardness was broken by the sound of a vehicle turning into the drive. The door opened and Giles entered, looking pale and drawn, his shirt wrinkled.

Before she knew what she was doing, before she even thought about it, Buffy's arms were around his neck, hugging him tightly. Her Watcher placed a hesitant hand on her back. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so, so sorry." She released her hold and stepped back, but before he could say anything, Willow had taken her place. Xander followed, grabbing Giles by the hand and bumping his shoulder into the librarian's chest. Oz clasped both hands around Giles's right hand, then used his left hand to tap the Watcher's right shoulder. He stepped aside, leaving Cordelia facing the librarian.

There was an awkward pause, then the cheerleader said, "I feel bad about your friend, but I really don't think it's appropriate for us to hug." She extended her hand, and the first wan smile crossed Giles's face as he took it.

"Thank you, Cordelia," he said. "Thank you… thank you all, I appreciate your good wishes, but… we have more important matters to deal with, so, please…" He held out his hands, indicating that everyone should sit. The arrangement changed a little: Xander and Oz ended up sitting on the floor. Giles sniffed slightly, then looked at Oz, who met the Watcher's eyes and shrugged.

Matti stood up. "Okay, we're here to bring everyone up to speed." The Knight's right arm crossed her body and gripped her left tricep. "Everybody remember how I was going to call the Knights? I did."

"We did." Everyone looked at Stefan for a moment, then Giles spoke.

"What was their response?" he said. "What sort of help will they be sending?"

"None. They won't be sending any assistance," Matti said. "I called in my report and gave my assessment and, based on that, the Knights believe that we have passed any and all fail-safe points. I was instructed to execute Nebula Black."

"Well, based on the name alone I'd say that's a bad thing," Buffy said.

"It is. It's a very bad thing. It's taking off and nuking it from orbit."

"What?" Willow yipped, her voice running up the scale. "That doesn't sound very bad, it sounds… very, very, very bad. Terrible, even."

"Will," Xander said, "you're starting to babble."

"Aliens reference aside, run it down for us," Buffy said.

"It's the big gun. It's basically the equivalent of a magical nuclear bomb. It might destroy the Seal, it might not, but it would sure eliminate everyone capable of using it."

"So, it would kill Trick and the Mayor?" Xander's eyes widened. "Then I say, 'Yippee-ki-yay, mother-"

"Anyone," Matti said, her face grim. "That means you-" she pointed at Buffy "-and you-" at Willow "-and him-" the finger moved to Giles "-and him." She indicated Oz, then swept the group with her gaze. "You have any friends who do anything magical, have any special abilities?"

Xander swallowed. "Amy-"

"Yeah, her, and I don't even know her." Matti shook her head. "And dozens, maybe hundreds of people you don't expect, people who just have a latent talent or strange attribute." She looked at Buffy. "Angel's definitely toast."

"What about the seventh son of a seventh son?" Willow asked.

"Odd example, but yeah." Matti leaned forward to emphasize her words. "Anyone with a magical or supernatural inclination or tie. Even people who just get lucky at the lottery too often. Nebula Black will eliminate everyone who could be connected with the Seal. Everyone with magical knowledge or ability. Everyone. Everyone in this room, for sure. All technology would be fried, communication to the outside world severed… Sunnydale would basically turn into a ghost town… the collateral damage would be… devastating. It's a paranormal napalm strike, a carpet-bombing." Matti sat down in her chair and leaned forward to rub at a spot on the coffee table.

"Wow," Cordelia said. "Each sentence just gets sadder."

"But it would destroy the Seal," Buffy said.

Matti was quiet for a moment. "I don't know. It might, but an object like the Seal… I wouldn't bet the farm on it. If it did, great, but it's more likely that after the Mayor and Trick are gone, the Knights would come in and take the Seal, if it still existed."

"What about you and–" Buffy jerked her chin toward Stefan.

Matti looked down at the table; her voice was smaller than anyone had ever heard it be. "Protocol is that we set it in motion, evacuate to a safe distance, then lead the recovery team in."

"Convenient for you," the Slayer's voice had a brittle edge.

Matti stared at Buffy. "We could organize an evac, get everyone in this room to safety. Your mother, too."

The Slayer tilted her head. "Don't you dare… don't you dare."

"I know," Matti said softly, "but you need to understand the magnitude of this decision."

"What decision?" Xander blurted. "You're just going around in circles telling us about something you guys have to do."

"Not really." Heads turned toward Stefan, who leaned forward, elbows on knees. "She's not gonna do it. We're not gonna do it. She's won't initiate Nebula Black."

"You won't?" Buffy shot a quick look at Matti Hollis. The gym teacher sighed and nodded.

"Well, I think that's good. I mean, Sunnydale's not great, but it's better than Smoking-hole-in-the-groundville." Willow looked around. "Agreed?"

"Not necessarily," Cordelia mumbled.

"So, you don't pull the pin on the Magical Hand Grenade and we figure out how to stop the Mayor. Easy-peasy." Buffy leaned back on the sofa.

"I don't think so." Giles had not taken his eyes off of Matti. "That's not the end of the protocol, is it?"

Matti looked up, her lips working. "No," she finally said. "It's not. We have forty-eight hours from the command to launch Nebula Black. If the balloon hasn't gone up by then, the Knights will assume we-" she pointed at Stefan "- have been compromised or killed, and they will take over."

"They will perform Nebula Black," Giles said.

"Yes." Matti leaned back in the chair and looked down at her lap. "And then they'll come in right behind it… and, since they will assume we-" she pointed at Stefan again "-are compromised or dead, they will enter with extreme prejudice."

"Well, that sucks," Xander said.

"There's a little more window than that." Stefan rubbed his hands together. "They tend to err on the side of caution, so we might have a little more than two days before they move, then we've probably got… eighteen to twenty-four hours before they move in and 'Ride of the Valkyries' everything."

"Brute Force is in place." Trick raised his paper cup to his lips and mimed sipping through the straw. No way was he actually drinking soda; he might be dead, but that stuff'd kill you. "Above and below ground, all four corners."

"Glad to hear that." Florestan muttered. He looked around; the previews had just started and the part of their conversation that wasn't obscured by the noise from the screen was drowned out by the scattered crowd's munching and slurping. "I wish I felt as sanguine about our employer's choices."

"You know that word comes from the Latin sanguis, meaning blood? Sanguine's also a blood-red color in heraldry." Trick shook his head. "Seems like a word I should use more often. Anyway, what's got you bothered?"

The demon shook his head. "Wilkins refuses to listen to reason about the girl. She's an unnecessary risk."

Trick watched an animated ocean and a dark jungle intercut with some sort of camera moving around what looked like a canyon. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "I told you, let... it... go. He's not going to change his mind, people who think they can literally overthrow the devil are not prone to persuasion or lacking in confidence. Besides, it won't matter."

"What do you mean?"

"Look, we both know he's going to tell you to work the heavy mumbo-jumbo, so make sure that's all squared away. The girl's not going anywhere. She can stay in that cell."

"What about the others?"

Trick looked lazily at Florestan. "What about 'em? Right now, they're broken. One of the Watchers is dead, which I guarantee you has made a basket case of the other one and, even if it hasn't, they're going to be arguing about who's in charge, the Knights or the Watcher. They are dazed, demoralized, and defeated. By the time they figure out which way is up, we'll either be kings or clowns. I'm bettin' on kings."

The demon considered this point of view. "Perhaps."

"Only way to look at it, brother." Trick smiled, and the light from the screen reflected off his fangs as he stood. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go find myself a real snack, then head for home."