Title: The Surrogate 15/19
Author: Jacqui
Rating: G.
Disclaimer: Buffy, Giles and all other assorted Buffy candies belong to Joss Whedon, WB and ME. Elizabeth, and everything from her world, belongs to me (the real me, not the ‘grr aargh’ ME).
Notes:Yeah, yeah, I'm a mean person. I'm tryin' to make it better, I swear! Also, thanks for your patience everyone, I know it's taking time, but the end is near, I promise.

Feedback: Give me a happy. wily_one24@yahoo.com.au

"She's coming to!"

"Dammit, Joe, how much anaesthetic did you use?"

"Enough!"

She blinked her way through the hazy words that surrounded her, her vision clearing momentarily. Without really understanding what she saw, her eyes took in several white coated people, splattered with red, standing around her. In the corner of her eye she saw a pair of gloved hand holding a shiny, glistening object, red and purple, threaded with a multitude of bulging strings of all different colors. The hands let it drop slowly into a silver, kidney shaped dish. She heard the wet thwacking of it hitting the metal.

"Get her back under, now!"

****

Such a simple act, so basic, and yet it felt so magical. Indescribable. Elizabeth wanted to share it with everyone, tell them all what it was like, everyone. Especially Buffy. Her eyes skipped sideways to the still form lying amongst machinery and tubes. Then she bought her attention back to the tiny little form in her arms.

A pink little face, guzzling at her breast.

"Hey Chloe." She whispered guiltily, taking pleasure in just saying the name. "Hey baby girl."

Her free hand caressed the fuzzy little cheek, delighting in the miniscule sucking motions she felt. Her nose breathed the little baby smells as deeply as it could. She wanted to stay like this forever, just the two of them, mother and daughter.

Watching her daughter breathe in and out was hypnotic, she could lie there and do it all day long. The succulent little mouth greedily grabbing both milk and air any way it could, moment after moment, the energy finally taking it out of the baby.

One sigh, two, and the deep, even breathing of sleep took over. Elizabeth kissed the downy forehead so lightly and then sadly pressed the call button. Quietly a nurse entered the room, her face a mix of delight and sympathy.

"I wish she could stay here." Elizabeth nearly cried when she handed the baby back. "All the other babies stay with their mommies."

"I know." Nurse Phillips whispered back. "But you wanted to share a room with Buffy. She needs her rest now, more than ever."

"I know." Elizabeth smiled sadly, then blew a kiss to the retreating crib. "Bye bye little Chloe Joyce."

****

She felt tied down, restrained, heavier than usual. Buffy breathed in experimentally and regretted it. A dull pain resided deep in her belly, stretching up to the skin, pouring out over the surface sharply as if razor blades were sliding over her skin. Her whole abdomen felt heavy, as if there was a weight lying across it.

"Buffy?"

That voice she would know anywhere, the soft, gentle tones, the expression in just one word, her name. She wanted to answer, to reach out and touch him, though she could feel him just at her side. First things first, though and she opened her eyes.

The lights were dimmed and the room was in shadow. Something told her it must be nighttime, but it was a distant thought, one that floated in the back of her head and disappeared. Searching quickly, her eyes found the face she'd been looking for and smiled. It seemed to take a moment for him to smile back.

Buffy made a choking sound.

"Hey, baby, shh." He smoothed her hair away from her forehead, whispering his words. "Don't try to talk, not yet. They've got all these tubes and things…"

Giles didn't finish the sentence, his eyes gesturing towards her face and then over her body. Her eyes swept as far as she could reach and she saw them. A whole mass of them, wires and tubes and important looking things. Looking at him, her eyebrows raised in a question.

"You're going to be okay," He nodded. "Everyone else is fine."

A noise sounded behind him and Buffy tried to see past. A sliver of light grew as the door opened and Joyce appeared, followed by a doctor. With the added area of visible room, Buffy saw a bed opposite hers and knew the person sleeping there was Elizabeth.

"Well, Buffy," The doctor was a cheery man, his voice ruffled and deep, escaping through a thick brown beard, which betrayed the bald head it held on to. "You've certainly kept us on our toes here."

With quick and practiced precision he checked several numbers on several machines, flicked a few tubes of liquid, and clicked his tongue.

"Everything seems fine, let's see how we do without this, shall we?" His hands came around her face and began to unhook the structure that had begun to feel, to Buffy, as if it were trying to simultaneously choke her and force air down her throat. "Just take a deep breath and breathe out when I say so. Now."

She felt the need to gag when the tube was taken from her throat, but Buffy held it in, a tear escaping the corner of her left eye. Giles held her shoulders and she relaxed into him. As the doctor kept mumbling inconsequential comments while he checked her over, Buffy realized that neither Joyce nor Giles would totally meet her eyes.

"What?"

"Doctor Timms?" Joyce stood up straight. "Can I talk to you outside, please?"

It didn't escape Buffy's notice that before she left the room, Joyce pulled closed the curtain that separated her bed and Elizabeth's. She looked at Giles.

"What?" He took a breath and Buffy lifted one hand off the bed to stop him. "No, the truth."

"There's something you have to know, about the birth. There were complications…"

****

Sitting on the very edge of the chair, tense and awkward, she wanted to go forward and just take the fragile little form into her arms. This was not how it was supposed to be, Joyce couldn't stop her brain's pattern of thought, something, somewhere had gone horribly wrong.

She looked across the room at the still and silent body. The only movement was the rise and fall of Buffy's chest. She knew Buffy was awake, she also knew Buffy wasn't really looking out the window, but at images far beyond her head, she knew that Buffy didn't want to, couldn't, talk. What she didn't know, what she ached to know, was how to make it easier.

Fresh in her mind, burned into her memory, was the deep, moaning howl that had come from behind the closed door. The door that held Buffy and Giles, alone, just after she'd woken up. She didn't envy Giles' task of breaking the news. If there had been any other way, any way at all, to take all this hurt in Buffy's place, Joyce would gladly have done so.

Every time she closed her eyes, Joyce was bombarded with a thousand images. Buffy walking down the aisle, glowing with happiness. Buffy, pale and helpless, lying among sheets soaked with her own blood. Buffy as a child, energetic and irrepressible, dancing along the street. Buffy, so terrifyingly small amid all the machines fighting for her life. Buffy, headstrong and stubborn, flushed with anger, "Mom, I'm a vampire slayer." Buffy, quiet and vulnerable, curled up to her side, "I'll just let it burn."

When she opened her eyes again, Joyce nearly jumped to see Buffy looking back at her. It cut her deeply, to see the dull emptiness reach so deep.

"Mom?"

"Yes, sweetie?" Joyce barely raised her voice above a whisper, almost as if afraid of scaring her off. Her eyes noted the hands that twisted themselves in Buffy's lap, again and again, almost violently.

"Where is he?"

"He had to go home, to get your clothes, to shower, he'll be back."

The tremulous hold on sanity dissolved and Buffy's bottom lip began to tremble as her fingers clutched at themselves, reaching for something that wasn't there.

****

Giles opened the door to his apartment automatically, not really noticing he was doing it. His eyes were glazed over and he moved slowly, in a trance. He was vaguely aware of Xander at his side, gently guiding him, carrying bags.

The apartment was like a slap in the face. It was so normal. Surely, after all that had happened, it should be in some sort of mourning too. It had no right to be the same. Giles kept a firm control over his hands, which threatened to tremble, with anger, with grief or guilt, he wasn't sure and he didn't care.

"Hey man, need help up there?"

He blinked, then turned his head to face Xander. The boy's face was forcibly blank, showing nothing of what he, himself, was going through, but Giles was not fooled. It took a close friend to know where to look, the glassy sheen of his eyes, the tight clench of his jaw.

"Ah, Xander, no. No. You do…" He gestured vaguely around the room. "… whatever needs doing. I'm just going… to get… I… I won't be long."

"Yeah." Xander nodded, not knowing what to say, or if he should say anything at all. "Ok."

Giles walked up the stairs in a daze, brief images of roses, candles and champagne flickered behind his eyes and he nearly choked on a sob. The door to their room was closed. He wasn't sure he wanted to walk in there, to see their things together like that. There was no real choice, though, it was keep moving ahead or break down. And he wasn't sure whether he could stop, once he started.

In the middle of the room, at the foot of the bed, stood a store mannequin. Dressed in a wedding dress, Buffy's wedding dress. Giles took the right sleeve between his fingers and felt the soft material. Lying on the bed was a pink box. Lifting the lid, he saw the bright material of the dress Buffy had worn on that first Halloween. Next to that lay the gift Buffy had given him in the limousine, that he hadn't had a chance to open.

Giles took in each item, without changing his facial expression, barely even blinking. He left them where they lay and went to his drawers to choose fresh clothes. He turned the water on hot when he got to the shower, letting the steam pour thickly into the room, covering the mirror.

The water hit his face hard, like he wanted it. He let the water sluice all over him, washing away whatever was there. Opening his mouth, he took in some water and gargled, spitting it back out. The soap was dragged mechanically over his skin, creating a thin trail of bubbles, but nothing more. His eyes glazed over, looking at the shampoo bottles.

Moving suddenly, without knowing what he was doing, Giles leaned his left elbow on the cool tile, pressing his face into it, bringing his right fist into the wall again and again. Hard. Fast. Not a sob passed his lips as he felt flakes of broken tile fall to his feet.

Later, watching Giles walk down the stairs, carrying bags of Buffy's things, cleaned up and fresh, Xander saw the bandaged knuckles, but didn't say anything. He made a mental note to himself to fix whatever it was that night, before Giles had a chance to get back.

****

"Come on!" She called behind her, barely glancing back. "She's down here!"

Willow was practically bouncing as she walked down the hall. Her eyes were a little too glassy and her movements a little too erratic, but Tara couldn't help smiling with the excitement that was irrepressibly bubbling up within her.

"Look!"

Willow grabbed Tara's hand and pulled her to the glass window, she was too busy staring into the pastel colored room to notice the way Tara was looking at their twined fingers and smiling. She did, however, notice the way Tara's free hand danced along the glass, tentatively, awestruck, wanting to push through. It made her warm.

"Which one is she?"

"Over there, to the left." Willow crowed with pride. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Tara looked at the tiny, screwed up face.

"Absolutely."

They watched the rows of babies for several seconds in silence, drinking in the little movements of limbs, the stretching of a mouth, the crinkling of skin near an eye. It was Tara who spoke first.

"How is she? Buffy, I mean."

Willow crossed her arms over her chest, her face drew tight and she turned her back to the window.

"Physically? She's healing fast."

"Physically?" Tara's voice was soft, but prompting.

"Yeah."

Then Willow looked up, tears in her eyes, her shoulders trembling. It only took Tara to raise her arms, for Willow to fall into them, sobbing, taking comfort from the feel of warmth around her, arms that held her close.

Neither girl noticed the nurse that walked up to the baby girl they'd just been fawning over and began to roll the glass crib away.

****

"She's smaller than I thought, you know."

Elizabeth smiled at the comment, before catching herself. Raising her hand gently, oh so gently, she tried to massage the shampoo into her hair. The pain in her stomach caught her and she paused.

"I know."

"And wrinklier too. Not at all like the babies in those diaper ads. You know, the cute ones."

"Yes, I know."

She breathed in deeply, willing herself to get over the pain. For so long Buffy had been taking her body's symptoms, lessening them, that it seemed all the stress and pain had hit her at once. Elizabeth closed her eyes and told herself she could complete this one simple function by herself, she could give herself a shower without help.

"What are you going to do now?" The voice came wafting back over the door of the hospital shower. "Now that the baby's born, will you stay?"

"I don't know." She didn't want to think about it. "It's too soon."

"It will hurt them, you know." Elizabeth tried to block her ears to the words. "If you let them care for her, then take her away from them."

"I know." She tried one more time to raise her arms to her hair and the pain in her belly made her cry out, she wasn't sure if the tears that stung her eyes were from the pain or the thoughts. "Uh, Anya, could you help me, please?"

****

There was a knock on the door.

Joyce watched Buffy's shoulders tense, then relax into nothingness again as she continued to stare out of the window. She sighed and called out for the person to enter. It seemed as if the door knob turned sadistically slow, dragging out the moment.

"Nap time's over." The voice was falsely cheerful, but still wary. "How's Mommy doing this afternoon?"

Nurse Fields pushed the crib into the room, her smile fading as she saw the bed furthest from the window empty. Joyce gave her a sympathetic smile, they both exchanged silent words. The sort that caregivers always do when they think the patient cannot see. Buffy pretended not to notice.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I can bring her back later, when Elizabeth is here."

"No." Buffy whispered, trying to prop herself up on her elbows and wincing from the pain. "Please? Can I…?"

"Sure." Janet Fields tried not to let the relief show too plainly.

As the crib rolled towards her, Buffy drank in the sight all too greedily, watching the blurry outline of the baby crystallize into sharp detail. Eagerly watching the sharpening of a blurry line into an arm, a fuzzy smudge into the creased brow. A little smudge into the perfect bud of a mouth. Buffy's hand reached out, gently, and shook.

"I'm just going to leave her here, now. Ok? Call if you need me."

Janet smiled at the non committal wave she received from Buffy. She didn't take it personally, she'd been working in the maternal wards too long to take notice of new parents. A quick nod of thanks from Joyce and she slipped out of the room.

"Look Chloe," Buffy whispered reverently to the yawning lump of sweetness, "this is your grandma."

"Nanny." Joyce said firmly. Buffy raised her eyes. "Hey, I'm too young to be a grandma."

"Look," Buffy's voice was full of urgent wonder. "She follows my finger."

Smiling, Joyce watched as the baby leaned into Buffy's caress, turning her head into the gentle stroke down her cheek. She laughed quietly.

"She's hungry."

"What?" Buffy's eyes widened. "That's not me. Hey, little one, wrong mommy."

Joyce reached out and lightly brushed a strand of Buffy's hair away from her face, to her relief, Buffy didn't flinch away. Her eyes greedily took in this moment, watching her daughter watch her own daughter. She knew, in her mind, that this was technically not Buffy's child, but her heart was pounding it's own rhythm.

"Why don't you hold her?"

Buffy gasped.

"Do you think I could? She's so tiny."

****

Elizabeth tapped lightly on the door before opening it. There were so many things going through her mind, the events of the past couple of days, weeks, the months since she'd been here. They had come at a price, maybe one she couldn't quite pay. How was she supposed to make things right now?

Of all the situations she had been preparing to see behind the door, the one she walked in on made her stop still. Anya, walking behind, barreled into her. It took a moment of paralysis before Elizabeth could move again and she backed out the door silently, pushing Anya firmly.

"Hey!" Anya hefted the toiletry bag in her arms. "We need to go in there!"

Elizabeth struggled for breath as she leaned her back against the now closed door.

"I can't… it's not… I can't."

"What?" Anya toned her voice down, sympathetic. "What's wrong?"

"They're mine!" Elizabeth whispered with an urgent vehemence, the words rasping against her throat. "That's supposed to be me!"

Pushing gently past Elizabeth, Anya opened the door and peered in, her mouth forming a little 'oh' when she saw Buffy cradling the baby and Joyce lording it over the two of them. A small surge of injustice welled up within her.

"That's my baby!" Elizabeth felt as if she were hyperventilating. "That's my mother!"

Anya closed the door, letting the bag drop to the floor, and placed her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders. She could feel a slight resistance there, as if Elizabeth were trying to wish her away, but she held on, forcing Elizabeth to look at her.

"They know that. Everybody knows that." Bending her head down, she forced Elizabeth to look into her eyes. "Believe me, Buffy knows it most of all. People think I don't see things, but I do. You're the mommy, Elizabeth, the mommy. Let Buffy have this."

Elizabeth nodded, breathing in through her nose, pressing her lips together to stop them from trembling. It was a battle, a war, within her. Images and memories jostling for attention in her brain, the memory of that deep down hunger burning within Buffy, the echo of those nights with Rupert, their wishes and dreams, the sacrifices everyone had made. She regrouped and opened the door.

"Hey, we're back."

"You're looking a bit better." Joyce shuffled around the empty bed, making the minor, unnoticeable adjustments of a mother. "That shower really helped."

"I did the hair." Anya looked entirely pleased with herself, gesturing to the top of Elizabeth's head. "I helped."

"Hey." Buffy looked up, her eyes meeting Elizabeth's instantly. "Look who's here. I think someone wants their mommy."

She counted, forced herself to wait five seconds, before swooping down and taking the child into her arms. Elizabeth breathed in the scent, swallowed the feel of breath entering and leaving the tiny little lungs, she was amazed with the apparent ease with which Buffy relinquished her hold. She couldn't imagine ever letting go.

Buffy was torn between watching Elizabeth with the baby and not watching. She wanted to watch them forever, a tableau of herself she'd never get to realize, yet it hurt, made bitter by the same knowledge of denied future. Her eyes remained trained on mother and child, forcing her to swallow the image, much like alcohol, making her sick, but needing it anyway.

****

The mansion was dark, shaded by the thick, heavy blinds, but a little illumination existed. Not a sound could be heard, except the tiniest buzz from a set of headphones in the corner and the occasional turning of a magazine page. The body on the bed did not move, it did not breathe, but it did listen. Intently.

The telephone rang.

Angel's arm sprang out, grasping the receiver before Cordy could react.

"Angel! God!" She tried to relax her shoulders, but there was no hiding the deep breaths she had to take to recover her fright. "I thought you were asleep!"

He glowered at her over the receiver and turned to face the other direction. She huffed and made a face at his back before returning to the magazine, though she was fooling no one. Her ears strained to catch every word, trying to glean any information about who it was, why they were calling. The details of Buffy's ordeal still rang heavy in her heart.

After many non committal utterings of 'yes', 'no' and 'okay', Cordelia finally heard Angel thank Willy and hang up.

"Willy? Is that Willy the Snitch? Boy, things never change back here in old Sunnydale, do they? Do you think we have a Willy the Snitch in LA? No. We do things the hard way. Angel, why don't we have a Willy the Snitch? Angel? Angel!"

Cordelia sighed and grabbed her coat before chasing after him.

****

They entered the elevator more or less silently, just as they had driven back to the hospital. What words were there to say? Xander kept running the questions through his head and they sounded stupid, so he did not ask them. He sifted through a thousand and one different ways to say how sorry he was, how awed he was, that Giles had been able to make that choice, that he had not broken down under the weight of it, much like Xander was afraid he would have. He never quite managed to work it into the non existent conversation.

"Mr. Giles?"

They both turned to the quiet voice at the back of the elevator.

"Oh, Dr. Beldam," Giles coughed his nervousness. "How are you?"

"I'm good," She shifted the folder in her arms subconsciously. "Just on my way up to see how Buffy's doing, as a matter of fact. How are you?"

"We're fine." Giles' avoidance was not lost on the doctor. "Buffy woke up this afternoon."

Xander watched the little numbers light up and counted with them. When the little bell sounded and the doors opened, he gladly stepped out and breathed deeply. The faster he found Anya, the better it would be. People may not always understand her, but he found her frankness comforting, her presence reassuring and her literal questions a thankful process of making sense in his own mind.

The room they entered bared little resemblance to a hospital room. Jostling with people, flowers, noise and a large helium filled balloon shaped like a baby's bottle with crinkled paper arms and legs floating among them all, the small space was practically bursting with commotion.

"All right, all right. Let's calm down people." Stacey hated being the 'mean' one, but fair was fair. "Apart from Joyce and Giles, let's keep the visitors down to two, okay? These ladies need their rest. And can we keep the wildlife to minimum?"

Xander caught a quick gesture from Joyce, he looked to Elizabeth.

"I like what you did with your hair."

She smiled. Anya beamed.

"I did it. The hair. I helped."

"We should be going and we'll look after this little guy for you." Willow grabbed Tara's hand, pushing closer to Buffy, bending down to kiss her cheek and then heading out the door amid a confusion of farewells. "We'll be back tomorrow. Bye guys!"

As they made their way out of the room, Tara managed to grab hold of the helium balloon with her free hand, at a signal from Willow, and dragged it behind her. It bounced behind them as they walked down the hall and into the lift.

The remaining eight people stared at each other for a moment, before Xander took a deep breath and nodded.

"Well, it was great seeing you for all of five seconds, there's been great times, but we should be going also. Anya?"

After many goodbyes and promised to return, or to call if things changed, they too, were almost out the door when Xander thought of something, he doubled back.

"Wes? You want a lift?"

"Uh, yes please." Wesley nodded politely, hoping he didn't seem too eager not to be the last person to leave. "That would be splendid."

Walking down the hall, Anya leaned in close to Xander.

"You really liked her hair?"

"It was beautiful hair, Anya, absolutely beautiful."

She grinned widely.

During all of this, not a word had been spoken between Buffy and Giles, but he had inched his way across to her and she had smiled up at him with a relief so trusting it almost hurt him. He could see the pain etched into her eyes, knew it would take time for it to become bearable, let alone heal. Taking her hand in his, he had lifted it to his lips and she had let a tear fall to her cheek, but she had smiled.

****

Buffy leaned back against her elbows, truth be told, she was feeling exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. When the doctor had entered the room, flanked by Giles and Xander, she had almost cheered the orders to clear the room. Not that she didn't enjoy having everyone there, it was just surprising to her how weak she actually was.

Few times in her life had she been so physically drained and weak, for this long a time. She was not prepared for the toll it would take on her. She hated it, hated it worse than anything she could think of at that moment.

Her eyes focused down at the doctor's hands, slowly and cautiously unwinding the bandage that covered her abdomen. She wasn't completely sure she wanted to see what lay underneath, but she knew it was impossible not to know. This was her body and she had lost control enough in the last few days.

"Don't expect too much, too soon." Stacey warned gently. "It probably looks very bad, but it's not really. Honest."

Giles felt the pressure on his hand increase enormously and he looked down to see Buffy's knuckles turn a stark white as she held on to him. Her face was calm and showing no emotion, but he knew she feared the outcome.

"What the…?" Stacey quickly pulled in her outburst, overcome with confusion.

Giles and Buffy both stared down at the stitches that crossed her stomach like railroad tracks and the raw looking scar that lay beneath. It wasn't pretty and Buffy winced. They couldn't see, however, anything that would cause so drastic a reaction. Their eyes met and they shrugged.

"That's supposed to be there, yes?" Buffy prompted, nervously.

"Well, yes, certainly, it's just…" She shook her head as if to clear it. "It's just that, the scar seems to have closed and healed at a remarkable rate."

Behind the curtain separating the room, Elizabeth and Joyce shared a look, a mixture of relief, amusement and shared secrets. There were very few ways to explain accelerated slayer healing to a doctor without being committed. It was a good sign, it meant that Buffy would be getting better soon. At least, they hoped so.

"Is everything okay, doctor?"

Giles was breathing easier, in this respect at least. He knew that Buffy's body would soon take over and her natural healing abilities would ensure she'd be fine physically. It was her soul that worried him most. If anyone could overcome this, on top of everything else, it would be Buffy, but how exactly that would happen, he didn't know. How was anybody supposed to know?

"Yes, yes." Stacey said, almost forgetting that they were there. It just didn't make sense, healing like this happened over days, sometimes weeks. It was not a matter of hours, the human body just didn't work like that. She breathed in and composed herself, falling instinctively back into doctor mode. "It's fine. Buffy, you're just recovering a lot quicker than expected, that's all."

Stacey asked several questions as her fingers gently probed the area, Buffy tried to answer as best she could, but she was quiet and kept looking to Giles, as if for help. He felt helpless, he could barely understand how he felt about things, let alone how Buffy was feeling.

"Buffy?" Stacey began to clean the wound, "Is there anything you wanted to ask?"

"Yes." For the first time, Buffy's voice was steady and direct. "Exactly what happened? What was done?"

And then her voice got weak.

"What happens now?"

Behind the curtain, Joyce felt her heart constrict again. Something that never ceased to amaze her, was the strength that carried waves of emotion from Buffy to her, as if they were connected. Every scraped knee, every tear drop, had caused Joyce equal, if not more, pain that it had caused Buffy. To the same effect, every laugh and every smile had caused her pleasure, but there had been too few moments like that lately. It had been that way since Buffy had been born. It was like that for every mother, she assumed, not even knowing how to imagine it any other way.

She tightened her grip on Elizabeth's hand and reached out with her free hand to push a lock of hair behind her ear. Elizabeth met her eyes and Joyce saw the equal to her worry. She wondered how either girl, Buffy or Elizabeth, could endure the whole episode. Her daughter, both her daughters, were stronger than either of them realized. Joyce barely noticed her thoughts or her mind's own instant correction.

"Your body is well on the road to recovery. In fact, as soon as we're convinced you can hold down food and fluid, we can get rid of some of those wires and tubes." The voice floated back into Joyce's conscious and she closed her eyes. "It might take a while, though, before you're totally back to scratch. It's a long, slow process that's going to be hard."

Stacey coughed.

"About the details and the consequences of the whole procedure, I've made an appointment for you, to speak to someone and they'll talk to you about it. All of it."

"An appointment?" Giles looked quizzically at Stacey.

"She means a psychiatrist, Giles." Buffy's gentle reassurance held a slightly bitter undertone. "She wants me to talk to a shrink."

"It's…" Stacey paused, not expecting, but not particularly surprised by, Buffy's sudden hostility. It was not a situation that most people were eager for. "It's standard for cases where… Such invasive surgery can be traumatic…"

"It's okay, doc." Buffy tried to smile, only Giles felt the extreme tightening of her hand around his, he tried not to show the pain. "I'll go."

****

"Wow." Anya's voice echoed around the room. "Giles did this?"

Her eyes were glued to the space on the wall where the tiles had once stood. Xander was preparing the adhesive. In his mind, he could see the tightness of the man who had entered the apartment with him, the tension that rippled through the muscles and the anger that danced over his skin. He could hear the water flowing through the pipes and, no matter how many times he had tried to block it out over that afternoon, he could still hear the crashing of tiles.

"Yeah."

"Wow. It's so… so… violent. Not like him at all."

"No An," Xander closed his eyes and breathed in, remembering the times when Ripper had made his presence known. "It's very much like him."

He began to fit the new tiles onto the wall.

****

Her eyes roamed the walls, taking in the framed certificates and the book case to one side. Her arms rested tensely on the arms of the wheelchair, her back pressing into the back of the chair. Buffy looked everywhere, but to the woman sitting opposite her.

"You know, Buffy," Dr. Levenson took off her glasses, peering forward. She watched Buffy keenly. "If you don't like me, or you don't feel comfortable talking to me, then we're not going to achieve much in these sessions. I can arrange one of my colleagues…"

"No." Buffy surprised herself with the panic that surged through her. "I like you, Doctor, really I do. I'll talk, I promise, you're easy to talk to. It's just…"

The doctor sat back, her suspicions confirmed.

"You find me too easy to talk to?"

Buffy nodded.

"You're afraid of telling me too much?"

Buffy nodded faster.

"Let's get this straight, just so we understand each other, okay?" The way she stood up and paced around the room, twirling her glasses like an extension of her hands, was almost soothing to Buffy. It reminded her, on some level, of Giles. "These sessions, visits, appointments, whatever you want to call them, are basically to find out if you A understand what happened and B can deal with it properly.

"There's no obligation for you to tell me anything you don't want to. And even if you do, I can't pass that information on to anyone. I've been working as a psychiatrist for twenty years now, I've seen just about everything, heard peoples thoughts, feelings and reactions. Quite frankly, just between you and me, you seem to be one of the normal ones. I don't think there's going to be much you can say that will shock me."

"If that's the way you put it, doc," Buffy leaned forward slowly, grimaced, then changed her mind, sitting back gingerly. "Let's give it a go."

****

She lay back in the bed, lulled into a pleasant half sleep. The room was almost dark and the blinds had been drawn, the ever present noise and commotion had dissolved into the rhythmic sounds of the hospital and a constant, soothing hum. The major machinery had been removed from Buffy's side of the room and Elizabeth could easily say she didn't miss it.

"What is that?" She asked softly, her half open eyes following a figure as it paced back and forth. "That song?"

Giles turned to face her, Chloe cradled in his arms, and he smiled.

"I thought you were sleeping." He shifted the baby in his arms and cooed softly into her ear. "I hope we didn't wake Mommy. Oh no."

"It's alright." She maneuvered into a sitting position, only a little disappointed that she would no longer be able to watch the scene unobserved. Although slightly painful, it was also strangely soothing to watch the man, so similar to her own, tend the child. She'd been lost in a state of semi dreaming. "I wasn't asleep. I've heard that song somewhere before.'

"It's a lullaby from my childhood. One of my nannies used to sing it to me, I think."

"Ah, Frances, it'd have to be her." Recognition warmed her voice.

Giles disguised his surprise well. He still wasn't quite used to Elizabeth knowing things about him that he hadn't told anyone yet.

"Yes, yes." A sudden pang of longing came over him. "Frances."

"She looks comfortable in your arms." Elizabeth nodded to Chloe. "Right, somehow."

"Yes, well," He blushed, suddenly embarrassed and not knowing why. "I thought I'd take advantage of Joyce finally being convinced to go home and rest and Buffy at her session, to actually see her. She is beautiful."

"Preaching to the choir, Mister." Elizabeth couldn't help glowing with maternal pride. "You're not… upset, are you? About Buffy seeing a psychiatrist?"

"Oh no. No. I think it would be extremely good for her, if she opens up. It's just…"

He looked nervous, his movements slightly more edgy than before. Gently, he came nearer the bed and settled himself down in the chair without waking the baby, taking a moment to bend his head down and kiss the downy little head.

"I think she's angry. At me. For… well, you know. It was my fault."

Elizabeth shook her head slowly.

"You did what you had to do and Buffy knows it. She doesn't blame you. She's just…" She paused to think of the right word. "Unsure of you. I think she's not quite sure how you feel about her now, about what happened. You need to show her that you feel the same way that you did before."

"I do! Of course I do!"

"But does she know that? I've seen her watching you with Chloe and she knows she can never give you that now."

Giles looked down at the baby in his arms, his eyes lingering on every tiny wrinkle, the pink of her cheeks, the small, almost imperceptible creases in her eyelids. An ache grew over his heart.

"I don't want her to think that, I don't want her to feel…"

"I know." She reached out and danced her fingers over Chloe's forehead, wanting to just touch her, to keep contact. "Even Buffy knows this, but she needs to feel it, Giles. She needs you to show her."

"You know all this? I thought the bond had been broken?"

Elizabeth let a small smile grace her features.

"It doesn't take a psychic connection to figure that one out, Giles. Don't worry, it's not just you. It's all of us. We've all changed and Buffy doesn't deal well with change. Not a lot of slayers do, I imagine."

He looked at her, eyebrows raised.

"We live a very uncertain life, you know this, it's only natural for us to want, to need, to long for something concrete, something fixed and sure, to always rely on. Yet, everything in Buffy's world has changed and she hasn't had time to readjust."

"You're a wise, wise woman, Elizabeth Giles."

"I learnt from the best."

They shared a small, secret smile, which turned into a giggle when Chloe let out a tiny little sigh.

****

"And it's weird, you know," Buffy's voice floated over the room, calm and comfortable. "because you wouldn't think it, but Anya and Xander make a good couple. They're odd, but they're really good for each other."

"And Willow?"

Without pausing, or looking up, Buffy continued, her mind forgetting the doctor's office, or the notes being taken. Just then, she was able to talk to someone, someone who wanted to listen, about all her thoughts. It was strange, having all these thoughts without really realizing it, only having them become clear and concise when she spoke them aloud.

"She's always been the best ever best friend. More than anyone could hope for, really. I know she cares, even though she's got this whole other life now with all these new friends she doesn't tell us about."

"What friends?"

"Well…" Buffy shifted her shoulders. "Tara?"

"Ah." Dr. Levenson raised her eyebrows. "The other woman."

"What?" Buffy sat up straighter. "Why did you say it like that?"

"Like what, Buffy?"

"The 'other woman', like I was jealous, like they were lovers or something. You think Willow's gay?" Buffy's eyes widened. "You think I'm gay? I just got married!"

"Buffy, first of all, it shouldn't matter to you what I think of you or your friends. Secondly, I don't think anything about you friend, Willow, because I've never met her. I only make conjectures on your feelings about her based on what you tell me. What you tell me, is what I know."

"So what do you know so far?"

"You want my professional opinion?" Dr. Levenson felt a smile grow on the inside. She liked this woman, liked the challenge, liked the fact that this would be one of the happier, more successful cases. Too many times, she saw the people that had to be handled with kid gloves, those that would never truly recover from what they'd been through. Buffy was different, she was strong.

"Sure, hit me with all you got."

"You are jealous. You're afraid, lost, uncertain and jealous. In the last few years, you've undergone extraordinary changes. From prom diva, Queen of your LA school, to Buffy, not as popular, but king pin of your own little group. Along with Mr. Giles, you formed the hub of your activities. Compared to a family unit, you and he would have formed something akin to parental units.

"School ended, more changes occurred, your big love left town, you start college, the twin sister you've never even met comes to town, tells you she's pregnant and makes nice with all your friends and family. You discover that Mr. Giles has feelings for you and this allows you to acknowledge feelings about him that you've probably had a lot longer than you admit, even to yourself, feelings mixed up with guilt, fear and incredible social taboos.

"Every single one of your friends seems to need you less in their lives, no longer coming to you when they need it. Xander has Anya and has established a new relationship with Elizabeth that threatens you. You fear Willow is talking to Tara more than she is to you. Am I anywhere close yet?"

"I'm not jealous of Elizabeth. Or Anya, for that matter. Xander hasn't really looked at me since he was going out with Cordy…"

"This isn't about sexual attraction, Buffy, it's not about whether Xander's giving Elizabeth charm bracelets or fantazing about her. It isn't about whether Willow and Tara are traipsing through the daisies singing 'la la la' or whether they're rolling about naked in them.

"This is about you assuming so much responsibility for their lives, their needs, choices and actions, that you can't seem to let go. You define yourself so deeply as protector and hero, that you can't seem to function as anything else. You need them to need you, need them to rely on you."

"Wow." Buffy felt strange, as if she'd just been stripped raw of all defenses, but not unpleasantly. It was almost a relief to have someone else see this, to acknowledge it, make it sound almost sane. "You got all that just tonight?"

"What you need to realize, Buffy, is that your family and the friends are there to love you, support you and help you, as much as you are for them. My guess is, they still need you, they want to rely on you, but they've just watched you go through the most difficult and traumatic few months of your life and they can't stand to burden you with more problems.

"They're not 'dropping' you, Buffy, they're carrying you."

Buffy felt tears stinging at her eyes. She swallowed hard, trying to keep them back.

"So, what do I do, doc?"

"You need to redefine yourself within your group. You need to take time out, breathe, not worry about what they need from you, and just think about where you fit in. I suggest you and Mr. Giles take that honeymoon you never got to. Separate yourself from everybody and spend time alone with him. Remember, he still needs you, he still wants you."

"Does he? Does he really?"

Dr. Levenson looked directly at her, unblinking.

"What makes you ask that?"

Buffy shrugged and the tears finally fell.

"How can he need me, how can anyone need me, when I don't even know who me is anymore?"

****

"Can we have one?"

"Mm?" Xander nuzzled into the back of Anya's neck, half asleep, his arm snaking around her waist, holding her close to him.

"Xander?" She shifted, turning around so that they lay face to face. "I want a baby."

His eyes flew open.

"A what?"

"A baby. You know, the really little human beings."

He bought his hand up and ran in down the side of her face. Sometimes he could barely believe that she was there with him, that someone so beautiful could want him as much as he wanted her. Stretching his neck forward, he kissed the end of her nose and watched the way her eyelashes lowered momentarily, as if she were savoring the moment.

"An? What's bought this on? Chloe making you clucky?"

She smiled, running her fingers through his chest hair.

"Yes. And no. We should start right now, yes? It takes nine months, you know."

"Yes, An, I know. I… I really don't think we're ready for a baby." He paused. "Or a chia pet, even."

She pouted.

"But I want one, Xander. I want a baby."

"It's just seeing Elizabeth with Chloe, that's all."

"No!" Anya sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. Her face was flushed and set hard. "It's not all. We need a baby and we need one now!"

"How 'bout a golden goose first?" The minute he'd said it, he knew that this wasn't the time for joking and he could see the hurt seep into her eyes as she glared at him. He sat up with her and stroked her arm, she let him grudgingly. "Seriously, An. This is a big step. I don't think we're ready."

"When will we be ready?" Her eyes searched his. "Huh? When I'm too old to conceive? When it's too late? What if something happens? How do we know I'll always be able to have babies? How do we know I can have them at all? What good would I be to you if I couldn't have babies?"

"Ah." Realization dawned. "It's not Chloe at all, is it? It's Buffy."

He leaned forward and kissed her, stroking her hair.

"It doesn't matter to me, An, if you and I have one hundred or zero babies. I love you and I want to be with you. You, do you hear me? You, not your womb."

"But…?"

Xander took her words away with a kiss.

****

"Buffy?" Dr. Beldam spoke quietly, bringing a chair closer to the bed and sitting down. "Are you ok? I came up to check on you before I left for the night, the nurses told me you've been upset since you saw Dr. Levenson."

Giles watched Buffy raise her eyes to him, as if looking for an answer in his eyes, and wished that the insecurity he saw deep in there, under all the pain, wasn't there. He squeezed her hand gently, giving his support.

She nodded, sniffed and began to speak, then stopped and nodded again.

"She's ok." Giles coughed, hating to have to speak for her. "At least, that's what she told me when she got back."

Stacey nodded.

"That's ok. These things can be painful, sometimes. If you want, Buffy, I can give you something to help you sleep tonight. You really need your rest right now."

"Thank you." Buffy managed to get the words out. "I'd… I'd like that."

She looked down, not wanting to see the surprise she knew would be in Giles' eyes. Yes, she thought, I'm taking whatever's offered, is it that much to ask, peace, for just one night? Buffy shook that thought almost immediately, knowing it wasn't fair. She felt so drained, so confused and scrambled since her emotional outburst that she could barely function. On some level, she was glad that Joyce wasn't here.

She wanted Giles to stop looking at her as if she were a china doll. He'd told her, once, about what Jenny had said, that he made her feel bad for not feeling better. She'd tried to explain it to him, but he'd never quite grasped the concept. Now the same feeling scratched at her skin.

Buffy is not ok. She wanted to scream it at him. Buffy is not fine. And it doesn't really matter. She's allowed to be not fine. She's allowed to feel like shit. Is that ok? But she didn't scream it out loud, she never even whispered the words.

She kept them inside, because as much as she wanted to escape it, she never wanted him to leave her. She wanted him there, next to her, for as long as he'd stay. For as long as he wanted her. She never wanted the safe feeling to leave. As she knew it would, if he ever left her.

"I'll organize that for you." Stacey stood up. "Mr. Giles, if I could see you outside, for a minute?"

Giles stood up, confused.

"Certainly." He bent down and kissed Buffy on the forehead. "I'll just be outside."

Left alone, the two women stared at each other. Buffy closed her eyes and sighed. Elizabeth continued looking at her, an intense look of concentration on her face. Beneath the layers of scratching and frayed nerves that danced over her skin, Buffy began to feel a wave of cool air. It lingered over her cheek, through her hair and down her neck, like a mother's caress.

"Thank you." She whispered to the room as another tear slid down her face.

Elizabeth smiled.

****

"What's wrong?" Giles couldn't hide the nervous shaking of his hand, so he settled for taking off his glasses and cleaning them. Again. He felt sure they'd be the cleanest glasses in the building.

"It's nothing like that, really. I wanted to talk to you all before I left, about some test results, but I don't think Buffy's in any state right now to…"

"Results? What tests?"

Stacey became more and more flustered as she felt him watching her, suddenly aware that the confused, worried and exhausted man had made the transition into an aware, curious and increasingly suspicious man.

"You see, I know you said not to look into Buffy and Elizabeth's twinning syndrome and I haven't. Not officially, anyway, but you see…"

Giles put his glasses back on and his handkerchief in his pocket. His eyes were unmoving.

"Exactly what do I see?"

"I did some private testing, on some of Buffy's blood. It seems there's some sort of irregularity."

He watched her eyes dart back and forth, noticed the fidgety moves and the high note of her voice.

"Please, Dr. Legalities aside, friend to friend, just tell me what's wrong and stop beating around the bush."

She nodded and took a breath.

"Buffy has some sort of mutated DNA. A complex strand of extra chromosomes, which I couldn't identify. One thing, there seems to be an incredibly high level of adrenaline, which may help explain her accelerated healing and strength. Elizabeth's too."

"Elizabeth, you tested her?" Giles eyes suddenly went wide. "And Chloe? What about Chloe?"

"Her tests came back normal."

It seemed, for a moment, that all the air rushed out of him all at once. A sudden, painful vacuum, that disappeared as soon as it came. How horrid, he thought, to be so glad that Chloe escaped the same fate as her mothers.

"Why hasn't this shown up before, in other tests? Elizabeth has been here for months and Buffy has been a patient here for years. Surely someone else would have seen this?"

"That's the thing, you see, I asked a friend of mine, he's a pathologist, about it and he said some interesting things. Apparently, this sort of thing wouldn't come up in any regular tests, unless you were looking for it specifically. Which they do, immediately after birth.

"If this thing does show up, it's flagged by a certain corporation. Nobody is notified, the parents aren't told and everyone goes on completely ignorant. Sunnydale is a small hospital, most of our prenatal and neonatal tests are sent to LA."

"These babies, what becomes of them?"

"As far as I can tell, there hasn't been that many. And those that have this thing, are released with their parents and carry on blissfully unaware."

"This corporation? Who are they? What do they do with all these names?"

"I don't know! Look, all I know is that it's a big hush, hush thing that no one talks about. Nothing ever comes of it, so nobody really takes notice."

Giles was in a daze. He was vaguely aware of saying goodbye and waiting until the doctor entered the lift down the hall. In his head were various conversations of his past. The smell of dark, musty books invaded his nostrils and he could almost see the Council library as he sat scouring a twelfth century text.

"What do you mean she hasn't been found yet?" The voice had hissed through the bookshelves and he couldn't help but listen. "We've been watching ten girls around the world for years! It has to be one of them. There are no others!"

And then later, the wave of excitement that had swept over the whole Council. The current Slayer had been found. He'd felt excited, and just the slightest pang of jealousy, for Merrick. He'd known, just as he'd known years before with Ethan, that he would soon be elevated to Watcher.

Giles shook himself out of it and had to restrain himself from flying through the door, instead he calmly opened it and walked in. For a moment he thought that both women had fallen asleep, but as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw Elizabeth's eyes were open.

"Giles?" Buffy's shaking voice drew his attention. "What did she want? Is everything ok?"

"It's fine, just fine." He knelt by the bed. "Buffy, this is serious, ok? I want you to think. Try and remember, in the months before you were called, did you go to the doctors or the hospital for any reason?"

Buffy crinkled her forehead.

"Not that I can remember. I don't think…"

"Think harder!" He almost hissed the words. "Anything. Did you give blood? Did someone take your blood?"

"There was that science class." He spun around and looked at Elizabeth.

"What science class?"

"That's right!" Buffy thought for a moment. "They had this special day where we all got these kits and they showed us how to test to see what blood type we were. The whole school did it."

"That's it!" Giles felt his insides hardening. "That's how they found you."

"Giles!" Buffy glared at him. "What are you talking about?"

****

Along with the hushed tones of a hospital night, everything had taken on gray tones, interrupted only by the odd poster with a chubby, red cheeked infant, advertising the benefits of immunization, or the passing of a nurse, shuffling quietly in flat, leather soled shoes. Underneath the silence, blended into it, lay the steady sounds of constantly working machines, hushed whispered voices, the whir of ventilation and the occasional baby's cry.

There were very few people around, certainly nobody to pay much attention to the uniformed orderly, head bowed down, walking slowly from door to door, reading the files and taking notes. Certainly nobody to notice him cast a furtive glance left and right and then slip, quietly, into one of the doors.

The room was dark, but not entirely so. Ethan stood perfectly still, breathing shallowly through his mouth, until his eyes adjusted. His breath caught in his throat when he saw Rupert staring at him from a chair against the wall. He waited for the onslaught, the seconds ticking over painfully. His breath escaped in a little giggle when he realized that Rupert was asleep. It was the reflection on his glasses that had given Rupert the appearance of wakefulness.

The bed closest to the door was also filled with a sleeping person. None of these two, much, interested Ethan, except to know that they wouldn't create a fuss. It was the bed next to the window, the one holding Buffy, that drew his attention. In his hand, a single red rose produced from beneath his borrowed orderly's uniform, shook slightly.

For a moment, he just watched her, took in the labored rise and fall of her breathing. He wasn't sure why, to really know for himself that she had survived, to memorize her features. Maybe that, maybe fear or something else entirely. Then he moved forward, kneeling next to the bed.

"Buffy?" He whispered as loud as he dared.

Her eyes blinked open, staring blankly at him, a film of sleep still covering them. He noticed that her pupils were dilated enormously.

"I came to say I'm sorry." The sudden catch in her throat told him that she'd just realized who he was. "No, no, don't panic. I'm saying sorry and I'm also saying goodbye."

Buffy shifted a little under the covers, struggling against the drugs they'd given her. She blinked again and tried to open her mouth. It seemed to her that the drugs were keeping her body from responding to any messages she was sending it. Messages like 'crush, kill, destroy' for instance.

"I mean it this time, Buffy, I'm out of your life for good. You and Ripper and all your buddies. I'll leave you alone. You won't see me again. I'm so sorry."

He stood up to leave, placing the rose on the bedside table. Just as he reached the door, he heard a soft mumbling in her throat, as if she were trying to say something. Ethan turned back, eager to hear these parting words, no matter how harsh they may be.

"G… g…"

He leaned in closer.

"Giles!" Buffy managed to rasp out the word, never taking her defiant glare off Ethan. She cleared her throat. "Giles, wake up!"

"That's my cue, Pet." Fear making him revert to form, Ethan nodded quickly and left. "Best of luck, no grudges, hey?"

Buffy stared at the thin line of light that shone under the door, trying to decide whether it would be worth waking everyone, or to succumb to the medication. It took her a moment to register that the line was growing wider again and another moment to realize that the shape coming through the door was not Ethan returning.

Large and hesitant, taking a moment, not to adjust to the light, but to become aware of the room and it's inhabitants. A habit not likely to be broken any time soon. He must have seen the rapidity of her breath, known instinctually she was not asleep like the others.

"Buffy?"

Her eyes, waist level, watched his large hands open in a gesture of helplessness. They were empty, devoid of the previous day's empty comforts, he was carrying no flowers, no cuddly toys. For some reason she was grateful for this. Unable to look him in the eyes, and unwilling to attempt a vocal response, she nodded, hoping he'd understand. He usually had in the past.

A tear slid underneath her eyelid, hot and unwanted. Angel's empty hand reached forward and lifted it off her cheek. They stayed like that, in silence, for several seconds.

"I'm sorry."

Two words, they meant so much, but sounded like they said so very little. Angel cursed his inability to come up with anything, something, to say what he was really feeling.

"I talked to Willy."

His voice sounded loud after the quiet, suddenly gruff and down to business. Buffy's eyes flicked up to meet his, across to Giles and back again. Angel had to fight the urge to look behind him. He hadn't heard any changes in the man's breath.

"He's gonna help me find Ethan."

Angel saw her get more agitated.

"Don't worry, Buff, he's gonna pay for what he did."

"Ethan?"

"Yes, we're gonna get him."

"No. Ethan," Buffy nodded her head to the table, Angel's eye lingered over the rose as his nostrils flared and he picked up the fading scent. "was here."

There was no time to say anything else, the anger was visible as it rose up in Angel. His eyes flashed yellow and he fled the room. Buffy watched him leave, not quite sure whether she wanted to stop him. How many times in history, she wondered idly, had a Slayer sent a vampire after a human? To her surprise, she honestly didn't care.

Her eyes lingered over the silhouette of Giles' face. That, her tired and blurry mind told her, was someone worth fighting over. He and the gang, they were real people. Buffy wondered if she had the strength to care for people like Ethan anymore.

****

The morning light filtered through his window and struck the muscles on his back as he forced his arm muscles to lift him off the floor again and again. Riley gritted his teeth and pushed himself to do another hundred push ups. The telephone on his bedside table rang.

"Riley Finn."

"Riley, Professor Walsh. I need to speak to you."

He showered and dressed in record time and tapped his fingers impatiently as the elevator descended into the Initiative headquarters. Whatever it was, it was obviously important, if it couldn't wait until class. Riley felt the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. When the doors opened, he saw that Professor Walsh was also accompanied by Dr. Engelman and some other suits he didn't recognize. It all looked official.

"Agent Finn." Maggie's voice was official, tinged with a hint of honeyed guile. She wants something, Riley thought, needs me to do something to impress the bosses. He nodded curtly.

"Professor. Doctor." He waited to be introduced to the others.

He wasn't.

"You're aware of the current Slayer situation?"

Riley bristled under the surface, but only nodded again.

"The birth was three days ago, they're still in hospital. However," Maggie's eyes flickered over to Dr. Engelman, as if warning him of something. "last night some hostiles were captured and it seems as if word has spread. There's a growing murmur of rebellion, attack and revenge on the Slayer whilst she's incapacitated."

Riley's attention was totally drawn.

"The hostiles don't take kindly to her, apparently. Riley, I want you and your team to step up your protection of the Slayer and related persons. If this continues, I really think isolation may be the key. We may have to bring her and the baby into the Initiative until the threat is over."

"With permission, Professor, may I say that Buffy would never agree to that."

"Then let's not let it get that far, Agent. Dismissed."

There was nothing to do but turn and leave. He was still confused. There was something not quite right about the whole situation. Why wouldn't Professor Walsh let Dr. Engelman speak? Who were those men in suits? Why would Professor Walsh talk about a private project in front of them, yet not introduce them to him? He blinked away his questions and began to plan a more detailed surveillance of Buffy and her family.

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