"So," said Willow, gluing something into her in-progress zine. She bit her lip nervously, "You're a…" She cleared her throat, "You're, you know…—"

Tara looked up from her notebook, "...Gay?"

"Yeah," said Willow, "That."

"Y-yeah," said Tara, "That's okay, right?"

"Of course!" said Willow quickly, "I mean, it's so nonconformist and that's, like, the most punk rock thing. I think it's cool! Like, I'm jealous. I wish I was gay! 'Cause girls are so beautiful and kind and they smell nice and don't get me started on—"

Tara put a soft hand on Willow's shoulder to stop her rant. "Will?" she said, "Is it possible that y-you're… gay?"

"What?" said Willow, "No!" She took Tara's hand from her shoulder but was distracted by the other guitarist's long fingers as they passed by her field of vision. She didn't quite want to let them go, and fiddled with them nervously, "'Cause I had a boyfriend and I really did like Oz and…—" She dropped Tara's hand and started to frantically glue something down, averting her gaze, looking all around the room at anything but Tara, "It's silly. I don't even know why I was asking about it, anyway. It's all your business. The… girls you… Uh…"

Tara frowned. She touched Willow's hand gently, and Willow blushed. But then the red-haired rocker realized she was smearing glue on the bedsheets.

"Oh!" said Willow, "Sorry. Sorry! I just got all distracted 'cause, like, um, now I'm all thinking about how there's girls that… Well, a girl that… Well, I didn't mean to make your sheets all sticky, I promise. Wait, not that kind of sticky. Not that I don't wanna. Not that I do! Not that I'd imagine there'd be all that much… stickiness when it's two…— I mean… Can I kiss you?"

Tara couldn't help the lopsided smile from spreading across her lips before she leaned in and obliged Willow's request. They kissed deeply, Willow's gluey hands sticking to Tara's unbrushed hair.

"Hey Tara?" said Willow as they broke apart briefly.

"Mm-hm?" Tara breathed.

"I think I'm kinda gay."

"Where. The hell. Is Faith?" said Buffy.

"Let me just pull out a map and cast some kinda find-me spell," said Willow, sarcastic, "How should we know?"

"I was being rhetorical," said Buffy, "How many times has she been late for practice now?"

"'Late' might be cutting her a little slack," said Xander, checking his watch, "Practice is almost over."

"Ugh," said Buffy, "I think it might be time to start looking for another lead."

"You wanna kick Faith out?" said Willow, "I mean, I know she's… the way she is. But we have been getting more attention since she joined."

"Her thighs have been getting more attention," said Buffy, "She's not, like, committed."

"Why don't we just talk to her first?" said Willow, "And, and if she can't get her act together… Well, then, y'know…" She made a slitting-the-throat motion across her neck.

"What, now we are all 'talk-things-out' girl? What happened to the Willow starting bar fights?"

"That Willow was grumpy. I just think Faith deserves a chance."

"Fine," said Buffy, "I'll talk to her."

"You still mad about her borrowing the spotlight?" said Xander.

"She stole the spotlight," said Buffy, "If she wanted to sing, she should have just asked."

"Would you have said yes, Buff?" said Willow.

Buffy opened her mouth to respond, but then closed it again, "Look, I just don't like her coming in here and shaking things up. We're a fruit salad. Not a smoothie."

"Yeah, Faith is kinda a blender," said Willow. "Will I see you guys at Spike's show tonight?"

"You're going to that?" said Buffy, "I personally don't think 'The Crypt' is going to be the next big name in post-punk."

"He's helped us out," said Willow, "I thought I'd pay him back the favors. Besides, Tara asked me to come."

"She working?"

"Nope!" said Willow, "For once me and her can boogie on the same side of the bar."

"Hey, isn't Spike opening for Dingoes?" said Xander, "You up for those tunes again, Will? I know Oz isn't there anymore, but there's gotta be a little hurt in those harmonies."

"Y'know what?" said Willow, "I think I can handle it."

The Bronze was abuzz for a weeknight, and this time Spike was in the spotlight instead of lurking in the shadows.

"Now this next song," said Spike, the microphone clutched in his strumming hand, "Is called 'Dru'." The song started, a chaotic conglomeration of spicy riffs and sludgy chords as Clem smashed away on the drums.

On the floor, the Scoobs watched with wide eyes.

"Am I insane," said Xander, "Or are they kinda…"

"...Good?" said Willow, "Yeah. They are."

Buffy scoffed. "Oh come on," she said, "They are totally unoriginal."

"Okay, but his voice is kinda nice in this gentle grunge sorta way," said Xander.

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Sorry Xand, Harmony's got dibs."

"Harmony?" said Willow, as Xander pouted at Buffy's implication, "Like, Harmony from high school Harmony? They're together?"

"Yep," said Buffy, "I know. I think he's got glitter on his face from her lip gloss."

"I think it's sweet," said Tara, "His ex w-was psycho." She winced as Spike broke out into an enraged scream onstage, "Um, I think this song's about her."

When the tune ended, the English singer cleared his throat and said, "Thanks, Sunnydale. Dingoes' up next."

Buffy puffed out her chest to emphasize her suave toughness as she approached the stage where Spike was packing up.

"Not bad," Buffy said, "For a guy."

"Well well well," said Spike, "Look who showed up. Fancy seeing you here, Slayer."

"Maybe I'm just here for Dingoes."

"Dingoes hasn't been good since that guitarist left," said Spike, "I know you came for me, luv."

"I came for Clem," said Buffy with a shrug, "Anyway—"

"Spikey!" came the hopelessly high-pitched squeal of Harmony Kendall, who hopped onto the stage and placed kisses all over her boyfriend's face, "That was absolutely positively totally fantastic! Blondie-Bear, you are so cool!"

Buffy raised an eyebrow at Harmony, "Coolness factor falling exponentially by the second…"

"What," said Harmony, turning her nose up at Buffy, "Jealous?"

"Please," said Buffy, "I think you guys are perfect together. A regular Sid and Nancy."

"Can it, Slayer," said Spike, pulling his guitar case into his arms and walking off with his girl.

Soon Dingoes Ate My Baby took the stage. A Sunnydale staple for years, the rock band always brought some semblance of a crowd with them.

And in that crowd were Willow and Tara. They danced, goofy.

"Y'know what?" said Willow, "I'm having a great time. I'm not even thinking about Oz! Who needs him? I have you."

"Good," said Tara, "I'm glad you're having fun."

Willow threw her arms around Tara's neck, but then her face fell into a frown, her eyes on a spot behind Tara's shoulder.

As the song ended, Tara stopped dancing and turned around too.

"Oz," Willow said.

The man in question took a breath, "Hey Will."

"Oz, what are you doing here?" Willow exclaimed as the band onstage finished and the radio came on in the club.

"I was in town," Oz said, "Thought I'd catch Dingoes. They're…"

"Worse, yeah," said Willow. "Uh, this is Tara."

"H-hi," Tara said.

"Hey," said Oz. "Will. Can we talk tonight?"

"It's tonight," said Willow, anxious, "We're talking. Right?"

"I mean, you know," said Oz, glancing at Tara, "Alone. To catch up."

"Um," Willow said. She glanced at Tara too, who nodded slightly, "O-okay. Yeah."

Buffy had spotted Faith at the show, and when it ended she decided to take the opportunity to chat with her about her qualms. So she made her way through the patrons to find the lead guitarist with her arm slung around a tall brunette hunk.

"You an' me," Faith told the man, "Well. We're young. We're hot. Do the math."

"I'm not that young," said the man, "And I'm not so good at math."

"God, Faith," Buffy gagged, "What are you doing?"

"Oh, hey B. Didn't know you'd be here. I'm just chatting up tall, dark, and brooding here." She cocked her head at him, "What did you say your name was?"

"Angel," the man said.

Buffy pulled Faith off him by the arm, "So what? You have time to come get wasted and chat up anything in a leather jacket that moves, but you can't make it to practice?"

"Hey B, I'm in it for the fun," said Faith, "You make it not fun, I'm not there. Capiche?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Buffy, "I'm fun. Maybe I'm just a little more than pissed that you decided you're the new frontman of this band."

"I've got a philosophy, B. I do what I want, when I want. I get what I want when I want it. Want." She reached over and took Buffy's beer, "Take." She took a swig, "Have." She crumpled up the can and tossed it at Buffy's feet.

"I've got a philosophy too," Buffy said, "Life is short. Are you really gonna throw away what we've got going for whatever the heck your problem is?"

"Yours isn't the only band I can join. Angel here's got a band, too."

"Not anymore," Angel muttered, "Um. Sounds like you guys have some drama. I'm gonna go—"

"No," said Faith, "Stay." She took Angel's arm, "Want. Take. Have."

"Yeah," Angel said, "I'm not really interested."

Suddenly, it was like Faith realized she lost. She released Angel and glared at Buffy, "Screw you, B." She stood up and began stomping away.

"Don't bother showing up to practice tomorrow," said Buffy, "Or, like ever."

Buffy sighed and Angel scooted over for her to sit.

"Sorry if I caused that," Angel said.

"Nah," said Buffy, "We're in a band together and it hasn't been working out. Sorry you were all caught in the crosshairs—" She furrowed her brow, "Hey. Have I seen you around somewhere?"

"Probably not," Angel said, "I'm kinda new in town."

"Would I know your band? I swear I've seen your face. Maybe like in a badly xeroxed way?"

"You wouldn't know it. We played in Europe mostly. Whirlwind."

"Oh my god," said Buffy, "That's where I've seen you—You know Spike?"

" You know Spike? God, I should have left the second I saw him here. I had no idea he was playing, or even that he had a band or lived in this state or this country or that he was even… alive. We haven't been in touch. I should leave before he sees me. I don't want to deal with his… Him."

"What?" said Buffy, "Bad breakup?"

"More of a moral incompatibility."

"Cryptic," said Buffy, "Well, we have one thing in common. I don't like the guy either. How long are you in town for?"

"Not sure. I was on my way to LA but I picked up some work as a bouncer at Willy's."

Buffy winced, "Good luck. That place makes this one look like a convent."

"Angelus?" came Spike's English drawl, "What brings you to good old SunnyD?"

"Not you," said Angel as Spike sauntered up to them, "I was just passing through. For a… few months."

"A few months?" said Spike, "Well don't go poofting up the scene around here, alright? This is my turf."

"What are we, rival gangs?" said Angel, "I'll poof– Uh, be wherever I damn well want, Will."

They glared at each other for a long while, before Spike just grunted and stalked off.

"Put him in his place," said Buffy, "Very cool. Listen, I've been in Sunnydale a few years now. I know the scene and I know the town, if you… need someone to show you around or anything."

"Oh," said Angel, a pen and napkin already in his hand, "I was just going to ask you out on a date."

"I know this is usually Buffy's line," said Xander the next day at practice, "But where the hell is Faith?"

"She's out of the band," said Buffy, nonchalant.

"She's—what?" said Willow.

"She's out. Kaput," said Buffy, "I talked to her like you said, Will. Didn't go good. Not peachy. Plumy. Is that the opposite of a peach?"

"She quit?" said Willow.

"Well," said Buffy, "Not exactly."

"So," said Xander, "You, like… Fired her."

"Uh," Buffy said, "No. Not really—"

"Is she dead?" said Willow, "Is she in a coma? Because there's really not any other options. Did her hands fall off so she can't play anymore?"

"Um," Buffy said, "It was kinda a mutual parting of ways in that we both hate each other with fiery passion."

"So you…" Disappointment shone in Willow's eyes, "You kicked her out without even talking to us about it first?"

"Well, um—"

"Not really cool, Buff," said Xander, "This is America! Democracy."

"I'm on your side, Buffy," said Willow, "But it would have been nice if you… asked us."

"Hey!" said Buffy, "How am I the bad guy? I started the band in the first place! We knew the minute she took your guitar that she wasn't gonna fit in."

There was a long, long silence.

Buffy sighed, "I'm sorry. You're right," she said, "I should have talked to you guys. Things just got heated.

Xander checked his watch, "Well, I don't know about you guys but I'd like to get a little bit of practice in before Giles kicks us out. 1, 2, 3, 4!"

After practice, the Scoobs packed up their gear, a bit of tension still in the air but mostly fizzled by way of rock n' roll.

"I have exactly eight minutes to get to Anya before she starts threatening to withhold sex," said Xander.

Willow rolled her eyes, "Yeah, like that'd ever happen."

"Crossing my fingers for nine minutes," said Buffy.

"Later, alligators," Xander said before bounding out the studio door.

The remaining girls packed their gear in relative silence. Until:

"So," Buffy said, "Was that Oz I saw at the Bronze last night or am I hallucinating?"

Willow smiled slightly, "Yeah. It was. He was passing through and wanted to see Dingoes."

"And?" said Buffy, "I didn't hear you come home, so it must've been really late. If at all…?"

"We took a walk and ended up at his motel."

"And?" said Buffy, "Details. I mean, not too many. But… some."

"And we talked. All night," said Willow, "He's been working on his…"

"Anger issues?" said Buffy, "Good. I liked when cool, chillaxed rocker boy was really… cool and chillaxed. And also not cheating on you with slutty singers."

"Yeah, well," said Willow, "He seems like enlightened guy, y'know? All meditation and chakras and herbal tea. I think he deserves another chance."

"But…?"

"But… It's complicated."

Buffy frowned, "Complicated how?"

Willow swished the words around in her mouth for a bit before letting them free. "It's complicated…" Willow sighed, "'Cause of Tara."