Chapter 2

DAY 2

Spike opened his eyes.
Something was wrong.
He was lying on the floor in his crypt. He pushed himself up and let out a groan. His entire torso was on fire. Still propped awkwardly, he glanced down. He was lying in a pool of blood - a lot of blood. He dropped his head a bit and saw that it was his. It was dripping from his side, high up, and just under the left breast.
He pushed himself up and leaned against his sarcophagus. He closed his eyes momentarily, allowing the room to settle down a bit. He gingerly fingered the wound in his side and was startled when he felt a thick sliver of metal buried there.
His eyes shot open and he looked down. Something was seriously off. He clutched at the tear in his shirt and ripped it open.
Spike stared.
A three inch fragment of metal was imbedded in him - again. He touched it, lightly, knowing as he did that it was from his axe. It was the same wound he'd had yesterday morning. But, that was impossible.
Spike jerked his head up and looked around his crypt. Everything was exactly as it had been after the fight. He'd spent thirty minutes cleaning up the blood and dust and righting the furniture, and now it looked like he hadn't done a thing.
Spike frowned and glanced around some more. He felt panic rise in his throat. Had he been dreaming? He didn't feel 100% at the moment. Maybe he was hallucinating.
He had to find Giles. He would know. He tried to get up, but gasped in pain. He looked down and grimaced. He'd have to get that metal out - again. Spike closed his eyes, gripped it with trembling hands, and started working it free.
Giles was in his kitchen, making coffee, when a loud, insistent pounding threatened to splinter his front door. He immediately dropped what he was doing and raced to answer it. No one would be making that much noise at this hour without a desperate problem.
He flung the door open and stared at a blanket-clad Spike. The smoking blanket abruptly burst into flames and Spike shouted.
Giles grabbed Spike and pulled him inside, ripping the blanket from him and tossing it on the floor. He quickly stamped it out, then turned to stare at Spike.
"Spike, what are you doing out at this hour?" He glanced around him. "Is something after you?"
"What day is it, Rupert?" Spike asked, anxiously.

"What?"
"The day, you prat!"
"It's Wednesday, Spike." Giles, said, annoyed. He continued to stare at Spike. He was clearly agitated and, upon closer inspection, seriously wounded.
"Spike, what happened?" He took him by the arm and pulled him over to the sofa. He pushed him down, then went to the bathroom for a first aid kit. When he returned, Spike was still sitting where he'd left him, staring at the wall. He had all the appearance of a man trying desperately to work something out.
Giles sat on the coffee table in front of him and pried Spike's shirt away from the wound in his side.
"Rupert, you remember what we all did last night?" Spike asked, suddenly.
Giles was caught off guard by the odd question. "Well . . . yes, we, uh . . . that is . . . Willow and I were at the Magic Box quite late. She was working on one of her spells and I was engaged in a bit of research." He placed a bandage over Spike's wound. "Here, hold this there."
Spike held the bandage.
"I'll have to wrap that up." He turned back to the kit.
"Don't worry about it," Spike mumbled, then leaned forward. He stared intently at Giles. "You don't remember all of us patrolling? The whole gang?"
Giles gave him a blank look.
The phone rang and he gratefully got up to answer it.
"Yes?"
"Giles, it's Xander."
"Is something wrong?"
"You think something's wrong, too! Thank God! Anya doesn't -!"
"Xander, I was asking YOU if something was wrong. You're usually at work by now."
"You mean you . . . ?"
Giles waited, but, as Xander seemed to have forgot he was on the phone, Giles had to renew their conversation.
"Xander, are you there?"
"Giles . . . what day is it?"
A shocked look crossed Giles' face and he turned to look at Spike.
"Giles?"
"Spike's here, and he just asked me the same thing."
There was a moment of silence, then, "I'll be right there."

Forty minutes later the entire Scoobie gang was assembled at Giles' house.
"I'm sorry, I just don't believe it," Buffy said. "I know what I did yesterday." She pointed to Xander. "And so do you, Xand! You went to work, then stopped by the Magic Box to pick up Anya. You complained for fifteen minutes about sheet rock and dry wall stilts -."
"That was the day before," Xander interrupted.
Giles cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should determine what everyone remembers."
Anya raised her hand. "I spent all day with Giles and he tried to get me to do the inventory. We argued about that for most of the day."
"Yes," Giles said. "We agreed to do it today."
"We already did it," Xander said, "and I'm not counting the frog eyes again." He looked at Giles. "You have 86, by the way." They were silent for a minute. Finally, Giles spoke. "What happened that you were at the Magic Box with us all day, Xander?"
"I went to work like I usually do, but an hour later I tripped over a pile of bricks, lost my hard hat, stood up and got beaned in the back of the head with a 2 x 8. I had a little concussion, so I had to take the rest of the day off."
"I see." Giles sat, and considered the situation.
Xander, eager to convince them, continued. "We had a Scoobie meeting at six. It was about Spike and the large target he now has on his chest. We thought it would be safer to patrol together." He proceeded to detail the rest of the night, but he didn't make much of an impression on anyone.
Giles said, "Perhaps we should consider the possibility that you and Spike were affected by something that's causing . . . well . . . a hallucination of sorts."
"I am not off my rocker, Giles," Xander said. "And, Spike -." He gestured at the vampire on the couch. "Okay, Spike's asleep, but I'm pretty sure he's not crazy, either. Evil and disturbing, yeah, but not insane."
They sat in silence for the next few minutes, considering whether or not to believe.
Willow suggested they do a little research to see if it was actually possible to loop a day, but, eventually, they had to go to the Magic Box for more reference material. They left Spike sleeping on Giles' couch.
At six they all returned and found Spike watching television.
"Spike. Feeling any better?" Willow asked.
"Yeah. So, what's the plan?" he asked, switching off the TV.
Giles sighed and sat in the armchair. "We don't exactly have one," he admitted.
"Come again?"
"We haven't been able to find a spell that does what you and Xander are suggesting."
Willow looked at him helplessly. "Let's face it, Spike, who would want to do something like this? How does it benefit anyone?"
Spike looked confused. He hadn't really thought about a motive. "Maybe someone wants to rob a bank or nick some nice rocks from the jewelers."
"They'd lose it all when the day started again. And if the day didn't reset itself, they'd probably be arrested."
"Maybe it's someone bein' meticulous and all. You know, casin' the joint?"
Giles considered it. "I suppose it would be helpful to know everything everyone was going to do beforehand, but. . . ." He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, "it just seems awfully elaborate."
"Maybe it was only one day," Anya said, hopefully. "How do we know it's going to keep happening?"
Xander gave her a stunned look. "Ahn, you haven't watched nearly enough science fiction. These things never stop on their own. The day just keeps looping until . . . well until. . . ."
"Until the only people who know anything's wrong go completely off their top," Spike finished.
"Uh, yeah."
Two hours later Buffy decided to patrol. Spike and Xander couldn't see the point, but remembering how many vamps they'd staked the night before, decided to go with her. Anya went with them, and Giles and Willow stayed behind.
Spike and Xander trudged through the cemetery, obviously lacking enthusiasm.
"If you guys don't look a little more alert," Buffy said, glancing over her shoulder at them, "something nasty is gonna' jump out and have you for a late night snack."
Spike and Xander exchanged a look.
"Think it would matter?" Xander asked.
"Don't know. Hate to find out, though."
Buffy and Anya stopped and waited for Spike and Xander to catch up.
"Spike, are you sure you feel up to patrolling tonight?" Buffy asked. "You look like -."
"He's fine," Xander answered, abruptly.
Buffy raised her eyebrows at him. "You guys aren't gonna' start finishing each other's sentences, are you? 'Cause, I don't think I can take that."
"Look," Xander said, "I just don't want a repeat of last night's arguments. Okay?"
"We argued last night?"
"When don't you two argue?"
"Why are we doin' this?" Spike asked, abruptly.
"'Cause this is what we do," Buffy explained. "We search and we slay. Sometimes we have snacks after."
Spike stared at her, annoyed. "I mean, we should be lookin' for whoever did this spell and breakin' them in two before we have to relive this soddin' day again."
"How do we find them?" Buffy asked, patiently.
"How 'bout the usual questions and beatings session at Willie's? Lots of uglies hang out there. Lots of other places, too. We just gotta' look for 'em."
Xander took a deep breath. "I hate myself for saying this, but I agree with Spike."
Buffy rolled her eyes, but gave in, nonetheless, and they headed for Willie's. They didn't make it, however, because half the demon population was already out looking for Spike.
"Look, I'll take care of 'em," Spike said.
Buffy's eyebrows shot up. "Alone?"
"I'm the reason they're here, luv."
She gaped at him. "I never thought I'd see you motivated by guilt. You're not growing a conscience, are you, Spike?"
He gave her an annoyed look. "You're my conscience, luv. I never do anything without wondering 'what would Buffy think?'"
She looked uncomfortable. Spike looked away. He'd done it again - said something stupid. He could feel her distancing herself from him. He wanted to kick himself, but Buffy would probably do that eventually.
"I'm not leaving you here alone, Spike," she said, firmly. "They'll kill you."
"Look, I can hold them off while you three get on with what we came to do."
Xander gestured. "We could question these guys."
Anya studied the vamps advancing on them. "I don't think they know anything. They would've been gloating about it by now."
Buffy refused to leave, and they managed to hold their own for the next ten minutes. Buffy gradually noticed their numbers decreasing, despite her, Xander and Anya having only staked five vamps between them.
Buffy glanced around in confusion, then spotted Spike across the street, in front of a mechanic's shop. Four vampires were piled on top of him but, amazingly, he was still on his feet. He was staggering around, trying to shake them off, when the whole mass plunged through the garage door.
Buffy plunged her stake into two vamps in quick succession. They turned to dust and, with the brief opening that allowed, they rushed across the street to Spike.
They couldn't see him at first - he was on the ground and the vamps had buried him - but as they neared, they saw his leg protruding from the mound of bodies.
Buffy sighed in relief. If anyone was going to kill Spike, it would be her. She lunged at them and started pulling them off him and tossing them away. Xander staked them as they flew toward him and they quickly uncovered Spike.
He pushed himself up and watched as Buffy battled the last two vampires. With their numbers whittled away, they lost their enthusiasm and ran.
Buffy let them go and she turned to Spike.
"You okay?"
"Oh, yeah," he mumbled. He stumbled forward and fell. She caught him before he hit the pavement.
"Spike," she sighed, shaking her head. "I'm impressed. If anyone can infuriate an entire town of vampires, it's you."
"Thanks," he whispered, a weak smile on his lips, then drifted into oblivion.

DAY 3

"Spike, I really must insist on knowing why these vampires are so eager to kill you," Giles said.
Xander and Spike had gone to Giles immediately upon waking. Giles, however, was more concerned with Spike's nocturnal activities than any looping day.
"From what you and Xander have told me, you've been attacked the last two days - days which the two of you contend are repeating themselves -."
"They are Giles," Xander interrupted. He was pacing in agitation.
"Yes, all right." He cleared his throat. "We'll get back to that. These vampires didn't just happen upon you, Spike. They are actively seeking you out."
"So?" Spike said, wearily. He was tired and frustrated and was beginning to think there was no way out.
Giles became angry. "Spike, you presume too much on our good will. Regardless of your constant presence and Buffy's unwillingness to stake you, we have no reason or interest in cleaning up your messes."
Spike, equally angry, replied, "I didn't ask you to, did I?"
"Be that as it may, these constant attacks are endangering the rest of us whenever you're with us."
Spike stood. "Why don't I just leave, then?" he said, moving to the door.
Giles blinked. Things had gotten out of hand and he hadn't seen it coming. He hadn't expected such a hostile reaction. "Spike -."
"Hey," Xander said, stopping Spike. "We've gotta' work on this looping day thing. You can't go." He turned to Giles. "Giles, we really don't have time to discuss Spike's popularity problem now. This is day three already and the way things are looking, we'll still be at this a week from now."
Giles was silent for a minute while Spike, fuming, stood restlessly in the middle of the room.
Eventually, Giles said, "All right. What do you suggest?"
Giles called everyone and they promptly assembled at the Magic Box, suspecting a dour prophecy or, at the least, a nasty demon that would have to be put down.

"So, Giles," Buffy said, upon entering. "It's not another apocalypse, is it?"
Xander rolled his eyes and Spike looked at the floor.
"What?" Buffy asked.
"It's not an apocalypse, Buff," he said, then glanced at the rest. "And, it's not Spike's chip, either. We've already had this conversation."
"What about Spike's chip?" Anya asked, emerging from the storage room. "He didn't get it out, did he?"
Buffy look disgusted. "If he did, then I'd have to stake him."
Spike glanced up, a hurt look in his eyes. "Why's that, luv?"
She stared at him as though he was being obtuse.
"Because we can't allow you to go out and start killing people again," Giles explained, impatiently. "Now, can we please get to the matter at hand?"
Spike, however, refused to let it go. "You think I can just go back to the way I was?" he said, waving a hand, sparks and ash from his cigarette sprinkling the floor.
"It's what you are, Spike," Xander said, shaking his head.
"What - you still think I'd try to kill all of you?" he asked, incredulously.
"Well, it's not like we're your friends, Spike," Xander said.
Spike stepped back, as though he'd been slapped.
Xander went on, oblivious. "I think you'd happily munch on us first - or try to - then go out and start recruiting minions again. 'Course, it might be trickier than it used to be, what with them wanting to kill."
"Which is something I still want to discuss," Giles interrupted. "We can't let this go on, Spike. I can't help but think you've done something, or are doing something, and I must insist you tell us what it is."
Spike looked from one to the other, hurt and angry. "That's just like the lot of you, isn't? You think I got this soddin' chip out of my head and the first thing you think is 'oh, Spike's been on a killin' spree!' Now you assume I've done something to brass off my own kind, as though working with you soddin' wankers wasn't already enough!"
"Buffy risks her life every night," Giles said, heatedly, "and with more demons coming to town every day it puts her life in danger."
"You think I'd do anything to -?" He stopped abruptly, looking awkwardly at Buffy, then, "Why don't you mind your own business, Rupert?"
"When your behavior endangers the lives of everyone at this table then it becomes my business, Spike."
Spike laughed. "My behavior?" He started pacing. "You really think I have time to -?" He stopped. He was about to tell them how he spent his days, which mostly involved sleeping, watching television and wandering the town at night, trying to avoid anything hostile when he wasn't actually patrolling. Of course, that was before the day-that-wouldn't-end started. They thought he was pitiful enough, so he decided against it. "I'll tell you what, Watcher, I'll take care of this little problem, and you and your little gang can take the day off," he said, bitterly. He gave the group a final look, then stormed out.

Giles stood and started pacing. "I think he's probably going to do something very stupid."
"It's Spike," Xander said, as though it was explanation enough.
Xander's protests about the uselessness of patrolling notwithstanding, Buffy determined to go anyway. She was only ten minutes into her nightly routine when she stopped and looked around.
"It's really quiet, don't you think?" she asked.
Giles and Xander stood beside her. "Perhaps I overestimated the threat." He pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"No," she said. "There's something. . . ."
"Something?" Giles asked, peering at her.
She looked around the cemetery. "Over there," she said, pointing.
They followed the direction she indicated and saw two demons, one lying on the ground, and the other propped against a tree in a curiously uncomfortable position.
In less than a minute they were standing over the demons. Both had nasty wounds that didn't bear further scrutiny.
"Eww," Willow said, looking away.
"No kidding," Buffy said. Despite the messiness of their remains, she bent to get a better look.
"Something unfriendly happened to them," she said, "and it's carrying a sword or an axe."
"Perhaps they were fighting amongst themselves," Giles suggested.
"Maybe, but I don't see any weapons."
Twenty minutes later they stopped again to discuss the situation. They'd already stumbled upon five more demons, just as dead as the others.
"It looks like something's gone on a rampage, Giles," Buffy said. "Is there some new Big Bad in town I should know about?"
"How 'bout an old one?" Xander asked.
"Huh?"
"It's Spike."
"How do you know that?"
"Who else?"
"Yes," Giles said, "you're probably right. He's trapped in a repeating day and he's angry and frustrated. He's likely going to take it out on the only things he can - other demons."
"Since he can't take it out on us," Willow said, softly.
Xander stared at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"We were really mean to him this afternoon," she said. "He didn't deserve that."
"Wil, we didn't say anything that wasn't true."
"Let's not start arguing about this," Giles said. "I think it's obvious we're wasting our time out here. We may as well head back to the shop and continue researching."
They decided to browse one more cemetery on the way and found it to be as quiet as the others. A few more demons dotted the ground, along with several piles of dust.
"Wow," Willow said. "He's really determined."
"You hear something?" Xander asked, glancing around.
"What is that?" Giles asked.
"Over there!" Xander shouted, pointing.
Three dark figures were tearing through the cemetery, screaming in total panic, clearly expecting nothing less than a horrible, messy death. Buffy ran after them, followed by Xander and the rest.
Halfway there, they saw Spike, running at top speed, axe in hand. He leapt fluidly over a tombstone and kept going.
"What is he chasing?" Giles asked. "Were they demons?"
"Let's find out," Buffy said, and kept after them.
They quickly found themselves outside the cemetery and in a quiet street. Buffy nearly tripped over a figure lying in the road. She just managed to leap over it, then turned and bent to examine it. She flipped it over onto its back and gasped.
"Giles!"
They joined her and gazed at the dead demon. It was clothed in a dark brown cloak, now marred with an ugly gash through its belly.
"Hey," Xander said, "that's one of Glory's minions."
"What were they doing?" Willow asked.
Buffy stood abruptly. "We need to find out and we can't do that if Spike kills them all. Let's go."
They caught up to Spike in an alley. He was beating the last minion senseless.
"Spike!"
He didn't answer, just kept slamming the minion in the head with his fist.
Buffy ran over and threw him off the demon.
"Get a grip, Spike!" she yelled.
Spike staggered to his feet, panting and looking wild-eyed.
"What do you think you're doing?" Buffy asked, red-faced with anger.

Giles bent to examine the demon. He was unconscious and looked to remain that way for a long while.
Giles stood. Buffy and Spike were staring at each other - she, angry and shocked, and he clearly trying to gain control of himself.
"Looking for an entry in Guinness, Spike?" Xander asked. "'Cause, we could go to Willie's if you like. Lots of vamps and demons there."
"Xander. . . ." Willow said, putting a hand on his arm.
"What?" he said, shrugging out of her grasp. He looked at Spike again. "What was that little speech you made this afternoon about not going on a killing spree?"
Giles moved where he had everyone's attention, raising his arms in what he hoped was a conciliatory manner. "Everyone needs to calm down," he said. He turned to Spike, who had backed away and was standing partially in the shadow of the building, leaning against the wall. "Spike, these are obviously Glory's minions. We would have liked to question one of them to find out what they were up to."
Spike pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, extracted his last one, and lit it with trembling hands.
They waited while he took a long drag, the simple action obviously calming him. Finally, he said, "I did question 'em. They said they'd brought Glory back and were off to collect someone."
The silence in the alley was interminable.
Buffy was the first to find her voice. "Who were they after?"
"Don't know."
Buffy looked around in horror. "I have to get home! Dawn's there!"
"So's Anya!" Xander shouted.
Before they could exit the alley, a voice interrupted their panicking.
"Well, this is really convenient."
They stared, shocked and unable to speak.
Glory and several minions stood blocking the alley.
"And just the person I want," she continued, looking at Willow and smiling.
Buffy stepped forward, still shocked, but quickly becoming enraged. "You're not taking anyone, hellbitch. In fact, you're not getting out of this alley alive."
"You know, if anyone here should be mad, it's me," Glory said, petulantly. "You ruined my plans, killed my poor Ben, which sent me off to some hell dimension where they don't even have indoor plumbing!" She stepped toward Buffy, smiling. "I don't have a lot of time, so let's get to it, shall we?"
Buffy and Spike attacked as one, ignoring minions and concentrating on Glory. They moved together with graceful precision, avoiding Glory's fists and watching each other's backs.
Giles and Xander focused on the minions, keeping them from Willow as she worked up a spell.
After a minute of taking an enormous amount of abuse, Glory, frustrated and impatient, turned nasty. She'd been overconfident, not using her speed to its full advantage, but now she dodged another blow from Spike's axe and whipped around to stand behind Buffy, a red blur marking her passage.
She grabbed Buffy by the throat and squeezed.
Spike let out a howl and lunged at them.
Glory sidestepped, pulling Buffy with her, and Spike slammed into the wall. He whirled around to see Buffy choking, eyes wide and struggling against Glory.
Prepared to launch himself at them again, he pushed off the wall. He didn't get far, however, because Glory flew back and crashed into the opposite wall.
She and Buffy separated and fell to the pavement, Buffy coughing and wheezing for breath, and Glory angry and brushing at her dress.
Spike glanced at Willow. Her eyes had gone black.
Instead of attacking Glory, Spike lunged for Buffy. He pulled her away just as a bolt of electricity slammed into Glory. It propelled her out of the alley and across the street.
Willow dropped to the ground and strode toward the opening of the alley. That kind of power took it out of her, but she thought she could get off another shot.
Willow raised her arms high, then gestured at Glory, who was just getting to her feet. Lightening stabbed down from the sky and hit Glory, holding her in its brilliant, lethal embrace, her body quaking violently. She screamed, arms lashing out in an attempt to free herself. Just as the lightening died down and it looked like she might yet get free, another bolt hit her.
Electricity crackled around Willow, and blood poured from her nose as she rocked back and forth in the grip of her deadly power.
The sky rumbled and more lightening pierced the ground, missing Glory and apparently hitting randomly.
"Willow!" Giles shouted.
The rain came next, pouring down in heavy sheets, blinding everyone to more than ten feet.
In the street, Glory staggered around, barely maintaining her feet. More and more lightening struck around her and she dodged it drunkenly. She peered into the alley but couldn't see anything. It was time to leave.
In the alley, Giles tackled Willow. They rolled across the ground and came to rest against the wall. Giles raised himself off of her and grasped her head, lifting it gently, and looked in her eyes.
They were half-closed, but her normal green.
"Willow, can you hear me?" he asked.
It was impossible to hear over the thunder and the deluge and she didn't answer. He put his mouth to her ear.
"Willow!"
She moaned and grabbed his jacket. "Giles?"

"Are you all right?"
"Think so," she mumbled.
He could barely hear her and he put a finger to her throat, feeling her pulse. Too fast.
"You need to calm down, Willow," he said into her ear. "Try to breathe."
She nodded. Blood was still gushing from her nose. Giles moved off of her and reached into his pocket. His handkerchief was quickly soaked, but he held it over her nose anyway and tilted her head back.
Giles looked up and tried to locate the others. He still couldn't see. Despite Willow's apparent abandonment of her spell, it seemed its effects weren't going to dissipate so easily.
The instant the rain started, Buffy and Spike raced into the street, trying to find Glory, hoping to finish her off before she could recover. They searched frantically for several minutes.
"She's not here!" Spike yelled.
"I have to get home!" Buffy screamed. "Dawn! I have to get home!"
"Buffy, you can't see in this downpour! You'd never make it!" he said, grabbing her arm.
She pushed him roughly, knocking him to the ground, and she ran.
"Buffy!"
In the alley, Xander found Giles and Willow and was kneeling next to them.
"Is she okay?"
"I'm not sure," Giles answered. "We need to get her out of here. What about Glory?"
"Don't know. I can't see anything."
Giles considered the situation. They could stay where they were, hoping the storm would play itself out soon, or set off and possibly stagger around blindly for shelter. He looked at Willow again. She was unconscious and still bleeding. His decision made, he tossed his sodden handkerchief away and took off his jacket. Seeing him, Xander did the same and they covered Willow. It wasn't very effective, but it was better than nothing. Giles pulled her to him and lifted her into his arms.
"Follow the wall!" Giles said. "Get around front and find a door!"
"Right!"
Xander left quickly and Giles followed, more cautiously. A minute later, Xander returned and grabbed his arm, leading him forward.
Once around front, Xander kicked the door in and they got inside quickly.
It was a video store and likely didn't have anything to help them.
They were both shivering uncontrollably. Giles sat and leaned against the counter, hugging Willow to him.
"Try to find a. . . . a storage room," he stammered. His teeth were clattering. "Blankets . . . a tarp, something . . . ."
Xander did so, and returned a few minutes later with a large drape he'd torn off the window in the back room.
"Here," he said. They wrapped Willow in it, and Giles pressed her into Xander's arms.
"Try to keep her warm," he said, getting to his feet.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to try and find Buffy."
"Giles."
He looked back, concerned at the odd note in Xander's voice.
"It won't matter," he said. "Tomorrow -."
"Is another day, Xander. Whether it's the same one or not remains to be seen."
"Why can't you just believe me, Giles?"
Giles looked at the floor. He sighed. "I do, Xander. It's just . . . with Glory out there. . . ."
"You can't do anything about her and you know it. Besides, if they're not in the street - and I don't think they are -you'd never find them."
Giles crossed to the window and gazed out at the rain. It hadn't let up any. Xander was right. It was impossible. He looked back at Willow. All they could do was take care of themselves.
"I'll see if they have any coffee," he said, and left Xander and Willow alone.
"It'll be okay in the morning, Wil," Xander whispered, rocking her softly. "It'll be okay. . . ."

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