Resonance: Resonance
by Heroes Team
These modern humans had a strange pre-battle ritual. In her day, warriors preparing for battle would paint themselves, find a mate for copulation, or supplicate themselves in prayer. Now they engaged in ritual "meetings." Illyria tolerated a few of these meetings, trying to learn more about their purpose. She soon determined that they were little more than an exhibition for the leaders to flaunt their authority over the lesser creatures. She had no interest in playing power games with insects, so she chose instead to spend her evenings prowling the streets, searching for signs of approaching enemies.

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"Where is she going?" asked Willow, frowning, as Illyria left Willow and Dawn's apartment.

Spike shrugged. "Wherever she wants, I suppose," he said, slouching in the easy chair.

"But there's a meeting!" Willow complained. She stood next to a bulletin board in her living room, holding a sheaf of papers in a folder. Xander and Buffy sat on opposite ends of the couch, and Angel stood, looming over Spike, with his arms crossed.

"She's like a million years old, Will," said Xander. "I don't think she gets the concept."

"Okay, fine," said Willow. She opened up the folder and started pinning pages to the bulletin board with thumbtacks. "Can anyone present her report?"

"I can," said Spike. "It's the same as mine - nothing's happening."

"Thanks, Spike, but can we please stick to the meeting order I laid out?"

"I appreciate your help, Willow, but I don't think this is working," said Angel. He started pacing as he spoke. "It's been a week, and there's still no sign of the Senior Partners' second wave of attacks. It's time we ditch the bureaucracy and go on the offensive. It's time that we -" He stopped pacing and peered at one of the papers on the board. He pointed at it and turned to Willow. "What's this?"

"Just an organizational chart. For reference purposes," she replied.

"Why is Buffy listed above me? This is my apocalypse!"

"Because you brought it here, to my city," said Buffy.

"This isn't your city," Angel scoffed. "You're only visiting. Pretty soon you'll be back in Rome with your new boy toy."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "It's my city because I was here first, and don't even bring him into this!"

"I have been working on this apocalypse for months, while you were off in Rome getting baked, so don't come in now and try to take over," replied Angel.

"God! Will you let it go? Yes, I've moved on! We went through this already. And, not that it matters, but I'm not actually baked yet."

"Sure looked like you were," muttered Angel.

Buffy threw up her hands. "Well, maybe if you'd bothered talking to me instead of skulking around like, oh, you, I could have told you what was going on. You know, baking takes time, and sometimes a girl just wants someone who can eat her raw!"

Everyone stared at her. Buffy, realizing what she'd just said, turned bright red. Spike leaned forward, opening his mouth to speak.

"Shut up, Spike," said Angel and Buffy together, before he could get any words out. Spike closed his mouth and shrugged. He leaned back, not bothering to repress a grin.

"Right," said Xander, after a moment. "Can we get back to the apocalypse?"

Willow's cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen. "Excuse me, I need to take this," she said. She stepped outside with the phone.

Buffy sighed. "Angel's right. We've got nothing. We've been patrolling constantly, Willow's got everything warded up tight, and there's no sign of anything coming. Angel, is there any more information you can give us?

"I've told you everything," said Angel.

"You're sure? You didn't forget to mention anything, like, say, a resurrection? I know how those things can slip your mind," Xander said angrily.

Spike sighed, exasperated. "Would you just let it go?"

"Do you have any idea what it was like for her? Do you what it's like to grieve for someone -"

"Xander!" Buffy frowned at him. "Don't."

"It's not that simple -" argued Spike.

"Spike. No," said Buffy. "We don't have time to discuss this right now."

"We have a lead!" exclaimed Willow, coming inside. She waved her cell phone. "That was Andrew. The Council's sources say there's a local seer, an Oracle, who should be able to give us some information on what the heck is going on. He's only an hour east of here."

"Great!" said Buffy. "Will, you and I should go check it out. The rest of you -"

"No," interrupted Angel. "I'll go. This is my mission."

"I'd better go with you," said Spike. "May need someone to watch your back."

"It's an Oracle, not a bar brawl," said Xander.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Okay, we'll all go."

"I'll stay," said Xander. "Dawn's been on guard duty at the hospital all day. I promised to give her a break later."

"Okay," Buffy said. "Please tell her what's up, and take my cell phone so we can call you if anything comes up."

Xander nodded and took the phone.




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Dawn sat on the spare bed in Gunn's hospital room with a pile of books and papers in front of her. "Kai to fôs en te, no, tê sko-ti-a fai-nei," she read aloud.

"What the hell are you saying, girl?" asked Gunn. Dawn jumped up, scattering her papers. She grabbed her cell phone, and had her finger poised on the keypad before she realized that it was Gunn talking to her.

"You're awake!" she said. "That's great!"

"I guess so," said Gunn. "Who're you, and what's happening?"

"Dawn. Oh, I'm just working on my Greek. It means 'and the light in the darkness shines,' but I don't think I'm pronouncing it quite right."

"I mean," said Gunn tiredly, "what are you doing here? This is a hospital, right? That's why I got a tube stuck to my arm?"

"Yes! I'm here to guard you. Well, not like 'bodyguard' guard," she added, as he frowned in confusion. "More like 'watchdog' guard. I call, Buffy comes running, kicks some demon ass, everything's good."

"Buffy?" asked Gunn, trying to make sense of her babble. "Angel's Buffy?"

"No," said Dawn, crossing her arms. "Buffy's Buffy. Not Angel's Buffy, not Spike's Buffy, just her own Buffy. What is it with guys? You think every woman's got to have a man to define her. Well, let me tell you, Buffy's done just fine on her own! And any vampires who think they can just come back to life without even calling -"

"Okay, okay." Gunn attempted to lift his right hand in surrender, but could barely raise it above the bedsheets. "Slayer Buffy? Is that better?"

"It'll do," said Dawn.

"Fine. Good." Gunn closed his eyes. "I'm gonna take a nap, then you can tell me where the hell I am, 'kay?"

"Okay," said Dawn guiltily. "Sorry, I'm just -" But Gunn was already asleep.


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Willow turned Xander's rental car down a long dirt road. To her surprise, the canyon was filled with people, tents and lights. She parked the car next to an old RV, but didn't stop the engine.

"Someone's having a party," said Spike.

Willow shook her head. "I don't understand. This is where the Oracle is supposed to be."

"Are you sure you got the directions right?" asked Buffy.

"Are you sure Andrew gave you the right information?" asked Angel.

"There's only one Horsethief Canyon, and the road ends out here," Willow said to Buffy, ignoring Angel's comment. "This has to be the place."

Spike shrugged. "Might as well check it out." He opened the door and got out.

* * *

The edge of the gathering consisted mostly of parked cars and RVs, with a few "people" wandering through. A good deal of the creatures they saw appeared human, but there were just as many sprouting horns, scales and other distinctly demonic features. As they neared the center of the gathering, the crowd grew thicker, and they passed a number of tents, sunshades, portable chairs, coolers, and grills.

"Fried Vakner entrails here! Only five dollars!" hawked a small man with porcupine-type quills sprouting from his head and the backs of his hands.

A creature of indeterminate gender with earlobes hanging down to its knees waved several blue bottles in the air. "SPF 1000! Guaranteed to keep you from bursting into flame, even in direct sunlight! Only $50 a bottle, but I only have six left."

"It's a scam," muttered a vampire to the left of Spike. He took a drink from an unmarked bottle. "Couple guys tried that stuff out this morning. Didn't even slow down the burning. Nothing left but ashes."

"And he's still selling it? Why doesn't someone complain?" asked Willow.

The vampire shrugged. "Thins the herds. If a guy's dumb enough to fall for that old trick, who needs him around? It's a new era. Gotta be smart and strong to survive."

Spike shook his head. "Sunscreen. Someone's watched Blade too many times."

"New era?" asked Buffy.

The vampire stared at her. "Yeah. Where have you been?"

"Rome," muttered Angel.

"We've been out of town," said Buffy. "What do you mean by a 'new era'?"

"Major upheaval," interjected a female demon in jeans and a peasant blouse, with thick white fur covering her arms and head. "Change of power. The plates are shifting, the wheels are turning. Gotta find your place, stir the pot, edge or rim, sink or swim." Her eyes drifted over Angel, unfocused. She grinned, revealing pointed black teeth. "The time has come. The walrus spoke, but his tusks crumbled."

"Are you the Oracle?" asked Willow.

The vampire snorted. "She's tripping. Totally gone. The Oracle's over there." He pointed at a large tent pitched at the side of the canyon, on the far side of the crowds. "Line to see him's a week long, though. Hope you brought your sunshade," he said, glancing at Angel and Spike. He took a long drink from his bottle and wandered off. He wove through the crowd and deftly avoided bumping into anyone.

A young man with multiple piercings approached them. His shirt flashed with a dozen small lights, and thin glow sticks were wrapped around his neck, arms and legs. He dragged a rolling cart filled with boxes. "Lights? Glow sticks? I got glow darts, glow shot glasses, whatever you need."

"What is going on here?" asked Buffy. "Is it a party? A rave?"

"Kinda," said the glow stick salesman. "Bunch of folks showed up to see the Oracle, but there's so many waiting, it's turned into a party. It's cool, you know? The Oracle's declared a 'no-violence" zone, so everyone's mostly chilling."

"It's always like this out here?" asked Spike.

"Well, yeah. Ever since The Event," he said, his voice dropping to a loud stage whisper on the last two words.

"What event?" asked Angel impatiently.

"You know. Like, two weeks ago, Senator Brucker and her whole staff were murdered in her campaign office, and on the same day, fifteen corporations had stock crashes, six CEOs committed suicide, eight clans of Frathka worshippers left this dimension, and they're saying a bunch of behind-the-scenes string-pullers were assassinated. Nobody's sure if it's a conspiracy, or a curse, or what, so everyone's out here to find out what the sitch is. You know, so they can make sure they're back-stabbing the right person," he laughed.

"Great, great," said Angel. "The Oracle's in that tent?"


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"...completely irresponsible - are you even listening, Wells?" snapped Mr. Hawthorne. He leaned over the large oak desk, and glared at the young man sitting in front of him.

Andrew jerked his head up. "Yes, sir!" He hadn't been, of course. He'd been daydreaming about being back in Rome, only this time Spike and Angel hadn't bombarded him with questions about Buffy. In his dream, they'd asked for his help, and he'd led the hunt to find the Capo's head. After the head was secured, he'd brought everyone back to his casa for martinis. Shaken, not stirred. After the martinis -

"Repeat what I just told you."

Andrew resisted the urge to sigh. He didn't want to give Mr. Hawthorne a bad impression. Fortunately, the elderly Watcher had been saying the same thing for the past half hour, so it didn't matter that Andrew hadn't been listening for the last twenty minutes. "Um, it was irresponsible of me to give information on Buffy's whereabouts to a possible enemy. I should have gone to someone more experienced for guidance."

"And?"

"'Angelus has proven time and again that he cannot be trusted. William the Bloody and his paramour wreaked havoc across the Continent,'" quoted Andrew. "And Wolfram and Hart, uh, 'has been a stronghold of evil for untold centuries.'"

"Which means?"

"Uh," What had he said? Andrew dug the toe of his Italian dress shoe into the rug, trying to remember. "They're evil?"

Mr. Hawthorne frowned. "And?"

Oh! "'Any dealings with the aforementioned must be approved by the Board of Directors beforehand. Failure to do so may result in suspension from the Council' - but I was approved! Mr. Giles has approval to deal with them at any time, and to, uh, 'delegate his authority'!"

"Which I did," said Giles, entering the office. "Thank you for speaking to my young associate, but I will handle it from here."

"Mr. Giles, are you aware that he has violated statute #V-0636 of the bylaws?" demanded Mr. Hawthorne.

"He has not violated any bylaws. He acted with my full knowledge and permission. You may file a complaint with the Board, if you wish, but I think you'll find that we have many other issues that take precedent. Now, if you please, Mr. Hawthorne, I'd like to have a word with Mr. Wells alone."

Mr. Hawthorne scowled, but left the office, shutting the door behind him. Andrew relaxed. "Thanks, Mr. Giles."

"Quiet, Andrew. I want you to listen to me and I mean listen, not daydream while nodding along to what I say. Do you understand?"

Andrew gulped. "Yes, sir."

"Your actions, however well-intentioned, have caused me a great deal of grief. Need I remind you that the Board did not want you to join us? Your lack of formal training may be overlooked these days, but your record certainly is not. I had to place my own reputation on the line in order to get the Board to approve you." Giles leaned against the desk and sighed. "Andrew, I truly believe that you want to do what's best for the Council, but there are many who doubt your intentions, and would be willing to toss you out at the least provocation."

"But I -" Andrew protested.

Giles held up a hand to quiet him. "I'm still speaking. I do not want you removed from the Council, so I am covering for you. I have told the Board that you acted with my permission." He took his glasses off to clean them. "I had hoped to keep Buffy out of this mess in Southern California, since she is on vacation. However, perhaps it is for the best. Her expertise will be helpful, and hopefully she will find out something useful from the Oracle. By the way, excellent job remembering that bit from the Prophecies of Girovagi. At least you've been paying attention to your studies. However," he put his glasses back on, "I think it is best if you are out of sight of the Board for the time being."

Andrew's heart sank. "Not Prague? 'Cause Mr. Suchoparek might still be upset about that, uh, incident in the library."

Giles chuckled. "No, the Prague situation is in entirely capable hands. However, another position has recently been approved, for which you are well-suited. I have already made the arrangements." He handed Andrew a sealed manilla envelope. "A car will be here to take you to the airport in," he checked his watch, "about forty minutes, so you had better start packing. Please remember that if you wish to ship your comic books, it is at your own expense."

"Okay," said Andrew, subdued. "I didn't mean to do anything wrong."

"I know, Andrew," said Giles gently. "This isn't a punishment. It's an opportunity for you to prove yourself. Just, please, think about what you're doing. You must remember, as a Watcher you are in a position where even small actions can have great consequences."

Andrew nodded. "'With great power comes great responsibility,'" he said.

"Precisely," said Giles. He offered his hand to Andrew. "Good luck in your new assignment. Please, contact me if you have any problems or questions."

"I will," said Andrew solemnly. He shook Giles's hand and went back to his room to pack.


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"Hey!"

"Watch where you're going!"

"Vr-cak krak-ah-frt vrt qurti flik, vrattt!" [Vr'flt for "That was my foot, asshole!" - Ed.]

Angel pushed through the crowds, forcing his way to the Oracle. Spike, Buffy and Willow followed.

"Angel, slow down," said Buffy. "Angel! Will you stop for a minute?"

"Can't," said Angel.

"Sorry," said Willow to a petite creature with red antlers that Angel had knocked over. "Oh, sorry!" she said as Angel elbowed a sad-eyed demon with eyes on stalks. It gibbered at her angrily. "Same to you, buddy!" she replied.

"Insolent fool!" howled a scaly demon in long purple robes as Angel shoved him out of the way. "I will line my path with your bones! My worshippers will eat the flesh of your - GAACK!" Angel ripped out the demon's throat.

"Now that was a bit excessive," said Spike.

"I don't have time to deal with distractions," said Angel. With a percussive thwap, a heavy-duty flashlight hit the back of the head. Angel swung around and tore it away from a scaly demon in long red robes. He swung it at the red-robed demon, who ducked. Behind him stood a beautiful woman with catlike eyes, a sheer lavender dress and a sparkling white unicorn horn growing out of her forehead. Angel's swing brought the flashlight right across the horn, tearing it off. She screamed, melting, as a viscous purple fluid poured out of the hole in her forehead. Behind her stood three knights with white horns embroidered on their surcoats. They raised their swords in a brief salute, then charged Angel.

"Oh, bloody hell," said Spike.


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Xander finished an email to one of "his" Slayers in England. One nice thing about civilization - it allowed him to keep in touch with the girls he'd found in Africa. Actually, there were a lot of nice things about civilization, when he thought about it. Bug spray, hot showers, washing machines, cold beer and Twinkies, to name just a few.

"The ritual is ended?" asked Illyria, peering at the papers stuck to the bulletin board.

Xander jumped. "Ritual? Oh, the meeting? Yeah, they went to talk some Oracle. When did you get here?"

"I have existed upon this planet for millions of years. They are consulting a priest?" asked Illyria.

"Uh, more of a seer, I think. There was a tip from this guy we know in England."

"One of your wise men?"

Xander laughed. "Not so much. But he's pretty reliable. So, I thought you were out doing the night stalker thing?"

She frowned. "The waiting grows dull. I wish to settle this in battle, not hunt the Wolf, Ram and Hart like rats in the field."

"Still no sign, huh?" said Xander.

She shook her head. "No. I grow weary of repeating the same actions. I am listless, and find myself searching for ways to occupy my mind and body. What do you call this feeling?"

"Boredom?" asked Xander.

Illyria considered it. "Yes," she said finally. "Boredom. I do not like it. I wish to cleanse myself of it."

"Okay." Sure. Entertain an ancient god-king. How hard could it be? He got up from the computer desk, and looked around the room for suggestions. "Uh - do you like to watch TV?" He pointed to the television.

She cocked her head at it. "I have played Crash Bandicoot. I do not wish to be drawn into it again."

"No, television's different. It has stories that are acted out on the screen."

"The box contains a storyteller?" She touched the glass front of the television. It turned on suddenly, and she pulled her hand back, startled. She turned and looked at the remote Xander held. "I see. The wand controls it." She looked back at the screen and watched the show for a few minutes. "I do not understand the purpose."

"It's funny. Humor? It's supposed to make you laugh. You see, Mr. Burns can never remember Homer's name - actually, maybe we should start with something more your style." He checked the DVD rack. Moulin Rouge? Chicago? The Wedding Singer? No, no, no... "Here!" he said, pulling one out. "Why don't we watch this? Just let me give Dawnie a call so she knows I'll be late."


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"You couldn't just wait your turn," Buffy yelled, ducking the blows of a teal-colored dog-woman. "Oh, no. You had to rush in. Everything's about you. Your apocalypse," she caught the shaft of an ax in mid-air, "your mission," she wrenched the ax away from its owner and hit the dog-woman with the butt of it, "your everything."

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Buffy," Angel yelled back as he fought off a vampire with dreadlocks. "I do what needs to be done."

"Sending someone to spy on me? That 'needed to be done'?"

"It was for your protection!" yelled Angel, decapitating the vampire with a sword he'd taken from one of the white-horn knights.

"Sure. I didn't need your protection when I was living on a Hellmouth, but once I had a life of my own and the chance to actually have a relationship, you suddenly have people watching me."

"I didn't have the resources before!"

Willow sighed. A magical shield kept her safe, but fights had broken out all around. The creatures involved in the demon underworld were not known for their patience, and it hadn't taken much to start everyone brawling. Buffy and Angel tossed off attackers as quickly as they approached, and Spike seemed to enjoy bashing in the head of a mild-looking creature with slimy antlers.

Somewhere, a gong rang. It echoed off the walls of the canyon, and grew louder and louder. It soon drowned out all other sounds, but it continued to gain in volume. The fighting decreased, then stopped all together when everyone was forced to cover their ears in an attempt to block the sound.

When all the action had ceased, the gong echoes faded away. The crowd parted, allowing a man in long, tattered robes to approach Angel.

"You," said man. "The Oracle wishes to see you. Bring your associates." He turned and walked back the way he came, not looking behind him.


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Xander and Illyria sat on the couch, watching the end of the movie.

"I do not understand," said Illyria, as the credits rolled.

"Okay," said Xander. "Maybe I can explain. Try me."

"He had power. He could have caused great destruction or gathered many followers. Yet he chose otherwise. Why?"

"Power wasn't what he wanted. He had a chance to be part of a family. Have a home." answered Xander.

"And these things are valued more than power? Home? Family? Why is 'family' so valued?"

Xander thought for a moment. "You find the right one, and then you've got people who'll be there for you, and you for them right back. If you're lucky. Like how Stitch found Lilo and her sister." He shrugged. "Good feeling."

"You have experienced this feeling?"

"Yeah, but not with the ones I'm related to. Found mine. Kinda like how Stitch did, but without the extra arms or the power thing."

"What of the 'Home' you spoke of? You posess this as well?"

"Used to." He looked down, avoiding her gaze. "Guess I could've had a new one. Or made a new one. If things didn't happen like they did."

"Why do you stink of grief when I ask you questions?"

Xander blinked. "What?" He had an urge to sniff his armpits, but he figured that wasn't the sort of stink she meant.

"The scent of grief that clings to you - it was minor before. Yet when I question you, it flares up and assults my nostrils. Do my questions offend you?"

"No, you just remind me of someone." Someone he wasn't ready to talk about with a stranger.

"The shell."

"No, I never met Fred," said Xander. He sighed. Might as well give her the Cliff Notes version. "You remind me of a woman named Anya. She was a vengence demon who became human."

"You think that I am like this 'vengence demon'?" asked Illyria.

"No!" said Xander. No one was like Anya. "You're completely different. It's just - she asked me the same kind of questions. I remember trying to explain this stuff to her."

"You have acted as Guide before," stated Illyria

He'd never thought of it like that before. "I guess I have."

"And were you successful?"

"Depends on how you see it." He didn't like where this was going.

"Does she walk in this realm unassisted?"

"She's dead."

Illyria nodded. "You cling to what is gone. My guide did so as well."

"Who?"

"Wesley. He clung to his grief. But the stink of your grief does not have the same intensity as his."

Xander almost smiled. "Guess it's good to know that there's a stink at all anymore."

"She was important to you." She was way too interested in this topic. And it wasn't one he usually talked about. Or thought about. At all.

He answered anyway. "You could say that."

"I ask you again, were you successful as a guide?"

Xander thought about it. Anya went back to being a demon, but that was his fault. Then she chose to give it up again. And she stayed for that last battle instead of heading for the hills like she could've.

Xander nodded to Illyria. "Yeah, I guess I did okay."


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The man in tattered robes led them to a large canvas tent. He drew the door flap back. "Enter," he said.

Heavy Oriental rugs covered the floor of the tent, and propane lanterns provided illumination. Several heavy wooden chairs lined the back wall. A shaggy-haired blond man sat in the center chair, smoking vanilla-scented tobacco from a tall hookah pipe. When he saw Angel and the others enter the tent, he set the pipe aside.

"So you're the folks that caused all the trouble," he said.

"You're the Oracle?" asked Angel, in disbelief.

"The one and only," the man said, smiling.

"Actually, I've met other oracles," said Angel.

"He is The Oracle," the robed man recited solemnly. "Forseen by the Prophet Girovagi in 1162 to rise in a time of great change. Marked at birth by the sign of Fortha on his nether parts. Trained by the Sisters of Hampford in the mystical arts. "

"Thank you, Ragini," said the Oracle.

"Right," said Spike. "Look, sorry about the scuffle out there. Patience here got a bit testy. It's that time of the century for him."

"Ah, man, that wasn't cool," said the Oracle. "I've been trying to keep things calm here, y'know? But that's not why I wanted to chat with you. You're the Changemakers, man!"

"Changemakers?" asked Willow.

"You know what I'm talking about, power-giver," the Oracle said to Willow. "Let's skip the small talk, okay? I got a lotta people to talk to. Those you fear are gone. You took a chunk out of them," he said to Angel, "and they'll be licking their wounds for a while. Forget about them."

"They're not coming ?" asked Buffy. "No demon hordes?"

The Oracle's eyes glazed over, and he began to chant,

"The crown's on the ground, man,
and there's fighting in the tree.
The mice will roar, the cat will dance
on strings too small to see.

In the place of sun and sea,
the plans have taken root.
They quickly grow to smother life
and bear a poison fruit.

But It has come to live and learn,
with guidance it will grow.
'Til in the night it takes the reins,
and blood will overflow."


"What the hell does that mean?" asked Spike.

The Oracle blinked. "Whoa. Freaky. I did it again, huh?" he asked, looking at Ragini, who nodded.

"We don't need more cryptic crap," growled Angel. "Just tell us straight out."

The Oracle shook his head. "Sorry, man. That's all I got."

"What?" exclaimed Buffy. "That's it?"

"It is time for you to leave," announced Ragini.

Spike shook his head. "Fine. Bloody useless anyway."


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"That's it? Some weird little poem?" asked Xander the next evening.

"Well, they did tell us that the Senior Partners aren't chasing Angel, so that's a plus," said Willow.

"Yeah, and something else is trying to take their place," sighed Buffy. "'A place of sun and sea' - that's here in San Diego, right? And 'blood will overflow' - that's never of the good."

"How do you know he's for real?" asked Xander.

"We don't, not for sure. But he knew stuff," said Willow. "Stuff he couldn't have known. Anyway, we'll research it."

Xander sighed. "Research! Why does it always have to be research?!"

"Because it is our destiny," smiled Buffy.

Willow giggled. The other two looked at her. "Sorry, it's just - it's like old times. Big evil, research, Xander complaining about research. I missed you guys!"

"Me too," said Xander and Buffy at the same time. They looked at each other and laughed.

The phone rang, and Buffy picked it up. "Hello? ... Hey, Andrew.... Okay, cool. Thanks for letting me know."

"News from England?" asked Willow.

Buffy shook her head. "From San Diego. Andrew's in town. Brought a bunch of books, too, so we can get right on that research!"

"Yay?" said Xander.


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Gunn woke slowly, and it took him a moment to remember where he was. Hospital. Right. "Hey, uh, Dawn," Gunn said. "Any way I can get some water?"

"Yeah, no problem." Dawn looked around and found a cup and pitcher left by the nurses. She poured a glass of water and offered it to Gunn with a straw.

"Thanks," he said, and drank it down. "So, big battle in L.A." he asked, handing her the empty cup. "You know who made it?" He hated to ask, but he had to know.

"Who survived? Angel, Spike, and that blue-haired leather chick. And you."

"Wesley?" Gunn asked. Dawn shook her head. "Damn. Was hoping that part was a dream."

"I'm sorry," Dawn said softly.

"Me too," said Gunn. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes.

"So," Dawn said finally. "Buffy and some of the others went out to talk to this Oracle guy to find out what the Senior Partners are up to. Turns out you guys hurt them pretty bad, so you're safe for now."

"What happened? How'd we survive?" asked Gunn

"I guess Angel rigged up some kind of Hotel of Death, and he and Spike took out a bunch of demons while Illyria took you to the hospital."

Gunn nodded, looking down at his injured body. "So, what's the damage here?"

"Well, you've got some internal injuries - you had a pretty severe stab wound in your abdomen. Multiple bruises and abrasions, and - maybe the doctor should tell you, 'cause I don't remember all the medical details."

"How 'bout you just tell me straight?"

Dawn took a deep breath. "Okay. Your leg - it's pretty messed up."

"Yeah, but it'll heal up, right?" Gunn asked. She looked down at her hands. "Right?"

"They want to do surgery on it," said Dawn. "I guess some of the bones - they were literally crushed, but the doctors are going to put in rods to replace them. There's a really good chance you'll be walking again."

"'A good chance'?" asked Gunn bitterly. "Good to know."

"I'm sorry," said Dawn.

"Hey, it's cool. Better than being dead, right?" He almost managed a smile.

"Yeah," she said. "Listen, if you want to talk, or anything, I'm here."

"Thanks, but I'm good. Think I'll just try to get some more sleep, 'kay?" Gunn closed his eyes.

Dawn nodded, picking up her book. She watched Gunn for a few minutes, but he didn't open his eyes again. She sighed softly, and went back to her Greek.


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