The Gift Of A Future ~by Gileswench

Pairing: Buffy/Giles, Picard/Crusher, Riker/Troi, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya, and a couple of surprises of the non-slashy variety.
Rating: R
Spoilers: Through The Gift on BtVS, general spoilers for the series of Star Trek: The Next Generation.
Summary: Can love and the crew of the Enterprise D help Buffy defeat Glory and create Starfleet?
Author's Notes: The story begins immediately after the events of Intervention. Small bits of dialogue have been lifted from virtually every episode from that point to The Gift.
Dedication: To Melissa, happy birthday and thanks for waiting so patiently.

A portal ripped through the fabric of reality. Strange beings caught in its energy were flung into a space they had no business inhabiting. A tall man watched the chaos with a frown.

"Now that shouldn't be at all," he fussed.

He popped through the portal with a snap of his fingers and found himself on an unsteady platform at the top of a tall tower. He watched curiously as two girls spoke. One seemed about to jump when the other stopped her. He craned closer to hear what the blond girl had to say.

"Dawn, listen to me. Listen. I love you. I will *always* love you. But this is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles... tell Giles I figured it out. And, and I'm okay. And give my love to my friends. You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world... is to live in it. Be brave. Live. For me."

She turned and ran to the end of the platform. Without a moment's hesitation, she threw herself off into the crackling energy. By the time her broken body hit the earth with a sickening thud, the portal was gone. So was the girl.

The observer moved to the ground with another snap of his fingers. He watched as the girl's friends inched closer to her remains, disbelief and grief warring for supremecy on their faces. Grief won quickly with most. One man fell to his knees and wept like a child at the sight.

The one who caught Q's attention, however, was the tall man with the glasses. He didn't show his misery as openly as the rest, and yet, Q got the distinct impression that he was the one most affected by this girl's death. He wondered who this man was. The mystery was solved when the redheaded girl moved to his side and lightly touched his arm.

"Giles," she asked, "are you okay?"

Giles took a deep breath. He clenched his jaw slightly and blinked his eyes fiercely before he answered.

"We... we should go. It's almost sunrise. Has anyone seen to Dawn?"

"Yeah, Xander's got her," her face crumpled. "Giles what are we gonna do?"

"What we must," he replied.

With that, he knelt before the dead girl and closed her eyes. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, and yet as though he bore the burden of the universe in his arms. A grim procession followed in his wake. Several were badly injured, and all looked as though their world had been destroyed.

Looking around, Q discovered several other interesting things, including a headless robot and a dead man wearing what looked like a woman's formal evening wear, complete with high heeled shoes.

"I wouldn't be caught dead wearing that," he quipped to the corpse. "Then again, you will... unless... you know something? Those two remind me of someone."

He snapped his fingers and was gone.

* * * * *

Beverly Crusher set her wineglass down with a small sigh.

"It's late, Jean-Luc. I really should go."

"Are you sure you won't have just one more glass?"

"I'm on duty first thing in the morning."

She rose, and he did the same. At the door she turned to him again.

"I had a lovely time this evening."

"So did I. Breakfast tomorrow?"

"0700 hours. Yes sir."

She smiled a bit flirtatiously and kissed his cheek softly. She pulled back a little flustered at her own boldness. He also seemed slightly discomfitted by the gesture.

"Tomorrow morning, then," he said.

"Tomorrow."

He opened the door for her and watched her as she retreated down the corridor to her own quarters.

Picard turned and jumped when he found Q standing inches away from him.

"What the hell are you doing here, Q?" he fumed.

"Is that any way to greet an old friend? I'm here to do you a favor, you know."

"Favor? What sort of favor could you possibly do me? And why would I take it?"

"I already did you one. I didn't show up while you were flirting with the delectible doctor, did I?"

"We weren't... flirting. We were having a discussion. And a glass of wine."

"Call it what you want, Jean-Luc, it's still flirting. And honestly, you two have been at it so long it's a wonder little Wesley is still an only child."

"Q," Picard growled warningly.

Q raised his hands in front of his face in mock alarm.

"Now, now. Temper, Jean-Luc. I'm here to save you."

* * * * *

Half an hour later, the bridge crew had assembled in the Ready Room.

"I don't get it," Riker said. "Some girl dies hundreds of years ago and stops the Federation from ever happening? Pardon me if I don't trust Q on this."

"And yet he has no reason to lie about it," Troi interjected.

"Oh he's got a reason, alright," Geordie said. "It's the same reason he always has: it'll make trouble."

"Records of the period indicate nothing resembling the events Q has described," Data informed them all. "If it did, indeed, happen, there is no way of predicting what the consequences would be. It might have a severe negative effect on history as we know it."

"Okay, say it's real; say that history is being changed because of some freak incident that wasn't supposed to happen. How would we even know where to start to fix it?" Riker asked. "This story of Q's sounds like something that took a long time to make happen in the first place. How do we stop it? And when?"

Picard looked up from his steepled fingers and spoke for the first time since he'd finished his tale of Q's visit.

"Oh, I think Q will probably take care of that. We won't be given a choice in the matter. We will go back in time and we will be interjected, if you will, into the life of this girl, this Buffy Summers. What we need to decide here and now is what we're going to do when we get there."

"Did Q say anything to indicate what he wanted of us?" Dr. Crusher asked.

"Not as such. He did seem to talk a great deal about... well, love. People in love who won't see or admit it even to themselves."

The captain seemed embarrassed at being forced to mention the subject. Riker and Troi looked pointedly away from one another.

"I do not understand," Data said. "What has love got to do with it?"

"That, Mr. Data, remains a mystery at present," Picard told him. "I want you all to be prepared to be removed from our time and placed in another without -"

* * * * *

"...warning."

Picard looked around himself. He was no longer in the Ready Room of the Enterprise. He now appeared to be in a graveyard on Earth. A glance at the headstones in his vicinity indicated that he was in the early days of the twenty-first century. He was also alone.

"Q," he growled.

"At your service, Jean-Luc," the entity responded cheerfully. "Hmmm... not really the best look for you, tweed, is it? Maybe you can find something more flattering down at the local mall."

"Where am I?"

"Sunnydale, California in the year two thousand and one on the human calendar. It's late spring and you might be just in time to avert a disaster."

"What do you want me to do?"

Q tossed a pointed stick of wood at Picard.

"Aim for the heart."

A creature with yellow eyes and a deeply ridged forehead charged Picard. He dodged it and rolled to one side. It lunged again. This time it caught him and grabbed him by the throat. The captain recalled Q's words and plunged the stick into the creature's heart.

In an instant, he found himself on the ground half choked with dust. When he'd gotten himself under control, he opened his eyes to see a pair of high heeled shoes. As his eyes scanned upwards, he saw a short young woman with blond hair, and her arms crossed over her chest.

"Nice moves for a Masterpiece Theater junkie. Now you can go back to the land of tweed and tell Travers I'm not playing his games anymore. Like I told him the last time, if he has something to say, he can call. We do have telephones here in the New World."

Despite her strange words and obvious anger at the sight of him, the girl helped him to his feet.

"I don't know who Travers is. I don't work for him. What was that... that thing that attacked me?"

"Okay, I don't know who you are or where you're from, but I do know that tweed means Watcher, as does English person. Got one already. Not really in the market for another."

"I'm not English. I'm French. Jean-Luc Picard."

He extended his hand. The girl looked at him oddly and took his hand. Her grip made him wince.

"Buffy Summers. American. And you don't sound very French."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

He coughed some more vampdust. The girl turned and began to walk away. After a moment she turned back to him.

"Come on. We're going this way."

"Where are you taking me?"

"To see Giles. Can you walk by yourself or do I need to help you?"

Her words, kindly enough in sense, were made slightly threatening by her tone. Picard decided that he would avoid any 'help' Buffy might offer him in her current mood.

"Please, lead on."

* * * * *

Willow tinkered with the damaged Buffybot at the tarot table while Giles did his best to ignore the scene. That... thing... really was most disconcerting to look at. Especially in its current state of undress. Giles was frankly disturbed by his own impulse to sneak a peek at it. Perhaps that was why he had been so harsh with Xander when he caught the lad staring at it.

The Englishman moved to where Anya stood rummaging through some packets of herbs.

"We're running low on hellebore. Order some tomorrow. And some mugwort."

"Yes, Anya, I'll do that, certainly. Are you alright?"

The former demon put down the herbs and sighed heavily.

"No, I'm not. Xander wanted to look at the naked robot."

"It's not *quite* naked."

"Underwear is worse. It's all sexy and erotic. Xander likes me to wear underwear when we have sex. Now he'll want to have sex with the robot."

Giles' cheeks reddened. He was heartily relieved when the door opened and Buffy entered the room. He was less impressed when a bald man in a tweed suit followed her in.

"Well, Spike didn't talk," Buffy announced. "And I found a faux French guy in the cemetary. He claims he's not a Watcher. Do you know him, Giles?"

"I've never seen him before."

Buffy saw what Willow was up to and strode to the tarot table, eyes flashing with anger.

"What do you think you're doing with that... that... thing? And couldn't you even put the jacket on it? There are guys here."

"It's just a few fried wires, Buff," the redhead protested. "I can fix this easily and then, extra Slayer. You could maybe take a vacation or something and the slaying would still happen even without you. The vamps would never know the difference."

"It's not another me, Will. It's - it's Spike's wet dream with my face. I don't ever want to see it again."

Willow shot a guilty look in Giles' direction.

"Giles, you cannot possibly have given Willow the green light on this," Buffy fumed. "That stupid thing can't even say your name right."

"I think we have a more important matter at hand, Buffy," Giles said. He turned to Picard. "Who are you and what do you want with us?"

Picard shifted uncomfortably.

"You may find this difficult to believe," he began.

* * * * *

Beverly looked around herself in confusion.

"Jean-Luc? Will? Anybody?"

"Mom!"

She breathed a sigh of relief and took a step forward. She nearly tripped on her high heeled shoes.

"Wesley? Where are you?"

"Over here, Mom! I need a hand."

Beverly followed her son's voice down the dark alley.

"Where are you, Wesley? I can't see you."

She heard a thump from inside a large, metal container behind her. Lifting one of the flaps, she found her son sitting disconsolately in a heap of garbage. The doctor helped her son to climb out of the dumpster and removed a stray wilted lettuce leaf from his hair.

Then she stood back from his fragrant form.

"How did you end up in there?"

"I don't know. Last thing I remember, I was in Main Engineering. Suddenly I was in there."

"What were you doing in Engineering at this hour? You're supposed to be studying to get into the Academy."

"I was, but I needed some help with a problem and Ensign Page..."

"Would that be Ensign Sophia Page? The one who worked as a Dabo girl before going to the Academy? I don't want you involved with her."

"So where do you think we are?"

Beverly was furious at Wesley's abrupt change of subject, but decided that her concerns about Ensign Page could wait. Right now it was more important to figure out when and where they were.

"It appears to be Earth, but without a Tricorder, I can't tell much more about it."

"We're dressed funny," Wesley said as he inspected his plaid, short sleeved dress shirt and kakhi pants. "I wonder if we're the only ones here, or if anybody else from the ship is around."

"I don't know. It's frustrating. I wish I knew where to go or what to do."

Wesley looked up and saw a man approaching.

"Maybe we can ask him where we are. I bet he'll help us out."

The teenager hurried to the stranger.

"Excuse me, but my Mom and I are lost. Can you tell me where we are?"

"Lost?" the stranger asked. "You're not lost, but you will be very soon."

The man's eyes turned golden and ridges appeared on his forehead. What worried Wesley the most, though, was the set of sharp teeth that descended to his throat.

* * * * *

Riker spun angrily.

"Q! Come out and tell me what you're doing, dammit!"

"Will, calm down," Troi said soothingly. "If Q has brought us here, he has a purpose and shouting won't do any good."

"Oh, it'll do some good, Deanna. It'll make me feel better."

"You keep saying that, but it never works. I can sense that your tension is mounting."

"Only because I don't know where that intergalactic pain has gotten to."

"This is getting us nowhere, Will. We know from experience that Q will only return us to the Enterprise when we've done what he wants of us."

"Yes, but usually he shows up pretty quickly to at least tell us where we are. How are we supposed to do what he wants if we don't know what it is."

"But we do know. We have to stop Buffy Summers from jumping into that rift."

Riker took a deep breath and focused himself.

"Which means he's put us down somewhere near her, sometime near when she jumps. Okay. Now, how do we find her?"

Troi pointed to a store where the lights were still on.

"Why don't we ask here?"

"Imzadi," Riker explained patiently, "we don't have any reason to think anyone here would know her."

"I'm sensing several people in there, and they're all very confused and angry. That could be a sign that they are dealing with something unexplained. Something that frightens them."

Riker shook his head.

"Alright. We'll try. If they don't know where to find the girl, maybe they can tell us where we can get a room for the night."

He knocked on the door of the Magic Box.

* * * * *

When Geordie came to, he found himself flanked by Data and Worf sitting in a room that was clearly inhabited by a girl. It was just as clearly not onboard Enterprise. The green and ivory striped wallpaper was decorated with photographs and trinkets, including a straw hat, and the bed with its ivory linens held a stuffed plush pig. Despite its neatness, the room's effect was one of cheerful clutter.

"Where am I? And why am I on the floor?"

"From the brief inspection Worf and I have been able to accomplish while you were unconscious, it would appear that we are in the bedroom of Buffy Summers. It would also appear that she is not here," Data informed his friend.

"Nobody is here," Worf added. "The house is empty."

"That doesn't tell me why I was passed out on the floor."

"You hit your head on this," Worf said.

Geordie looked at the heavy pommel of the ancient sword.

"No wonder I've got a headache," he deadpanned. "This Buffy Summers is just a girl, right?"

"That is what records of the period indicate," Data agreed. "She has, however, been involved in several violent incidents by this point in her life. She was expelled from Hemery High School in Los Angeles when she was implicated in the destruction through arson of the school gymnasium. She was briefly suspected in two homocides, though charges were never formally brought against her, and she was questioned about a third some time later. A building at Sunnydale High School containing the library was demolished by an unexplained explosion on the day she graduated from the school. The mayor of Sunnydale and the principal of the school, one Robert 'Bob' Snyder, were among those killed in the incident. No charges were ever filed due to lack of evidence. Later..."

"Alright, alright, I get it, Data," Geordie said. "So this girl is trouble, but we're supposed to save her?"

Worf inspected the contents of the trunk he'd found.

"She is a warrior."

"Okay, but what kind of warrior? How many warriors do you know who decorate like this?"

Geordie's gesture took in the peach-colored drapes and stuffed animal collection.

"I suppose that we will just have to 'wait and see' when she returns."

"Yeah, Data, I guess you're right."

The blind engineer, the Klingon, and the android sat on the frilly girly bed to wait.

* * * * *

As Xander drove past the alleyway behind The Bronze, he thought he heard a noise. He pulled his car to a smooth stop and made certain he had a stake in his pocket before going to investigate. Too many kids died every year in this alley because they walked through it alone and stupid.

He skulked through the shadows until he saw his prey. A big, nasty vamp held a skinny, geeky looking kid off the ground. His fangs were close to the boy's throat. There was a woman in the alley, too. She screamed and tried to drag the creature off the boy. Unfortunately, she had no weapons and only average human strength. She was no match for the beast.

Xander crept closer as the vampire's jaws closed on the boy's neck. He knew he had to hurry, or his rescue mission would be moot. While the demon drank, Xander ran at it from the shadows with a fierce battle cry. The woman jumped back, startled, giving Xander the room to attack the beast.

"Huh?" was the last thing the vampire said before exploding in a cloud of dust.

His victim dropped to the pavement with a groan and hit his head hard against the concrete.

"Wesley!" Beverly cried.

She hurried to kneel by her son and examine his injuries. Xander knelt by her side.

"Sorry I couldn't get here before he got bit. I don't think he lost all that much blood. He's probably got a hell of a concussion, though."

"Are you a doctor?"

"Nah. I'm in construction. But I've seen a few head injuries in my time."

"We have to take him someplace safe."

"I know just the place. Come with me."

Xander took one of Wesley's arms while Beverly took the other. Together, they dragged Wesley to Xander's car.

"Where are we going?" Beverly asked.

"I got some friends. They'll patch him up just fine."

* * * * *

Picard was stunned by the matter of fact acceptance of his story, that he had come from the future to help in the fight against Glory and protect The Key. After a very few questions, Buffy had simply decided to take whatever allies they could get at face value. The rest quickly followed her lead. Then their attention had returned to the scantily clad and obviously malfunctioning robot.

The argument rapidly grew heated. Buffy was outraged that anyone would even consider repairing the machine while Willow insisted it was important to fix it as a secret weapon. Anya kept reminding the assembled crew that it had been built largely to serve in a sexual capacity and she didn't want her boyfriend to find it more attractive than her. As for Giles, he was clearly on the horns of a dilemma. On the one hand, he understood that an extra Slayer made things safer for Buffy. On the other, he couldn't deny that he felt the thing was an obscenity of the grossest kind.

At last, he decided in favor of Buffy's feelings in the matter.

"I don't care how useful it will be, Willow. Buffy wants that object destroyed, and I agree with her."

"That's only because it says your name wrong, Giles. It can be reprogrammed to say it right."

"It can't be reprogrammed not to have already had sex with Spike," Buffy shuddered."Oh God, that is such a disgusting concept. I so need a shower for even thinking that."

"So do I," Giles agreed.

Willow's reply was lost when there came a knock on the door. Giles went to answer it cautiously.

"Yes? I'm afraid we're closed. You'll have to come back tomorrow," he told the attractive couple at the door.

"Please," the woman asked, "could you tell us where we could find..."

"Deanna, Will, please come in."

"Captain!"

Giles stood aside and allowed the newcomers through the door. As introductions were made all around, Anya narrowed her eyes at Riker.

"You," she spat.

"What? Have we met?"

Troi took an emphatic interest in some crystals.

"Giles, we can't trust him. He scorns women," the former demon insisted.

"Scorn? When did I ever scorn a woman?" Riker looked perplexed.

"Ask her," Anya said darkly pointing at Troi.

Riker moved to her side nervously.

"I hesitate to ask, but when did I scorn you and how would that girl know?"

"Remember Angel Falls?"

"Of course I do. We were there together."

"Yes, and it was there you told me your career came first. That you couldn't concentrate on becoming the youngest Captain in Starfleet history and on me at the same time."

"Deanna..."

"Will, I was angry then. I'm not anymore. You had a choice to make and you made it."

"So where does the girl come into this?"

"I'm not just a girl," Anya told him, "or I wasn't then, anyway. I was a vengeance demon and immortal. I could travel in time and space to avenge the wrongs men perpetrated on women. The power of the wish was mine. She called me. It was the wimpiest vengeance wish I've ever been called on to grant. It was embarrassing."

"So what did she ask for?" Buffy wondered.

"Yes, what did you ask for, Deanna?"

Troi saw that the assembled crew was determined to find out what her wish had been. Even Captain Picard displayed an obvious curiosity, and Giles looked like a little boy wondering what was in a special package under the Christmas tree.

"Alright, I wished that once you became a Commander, you would turn down all efforts to raise your rank to Captain until you were at least forty years old."

There was a moment of silence.

"That's it?" Buffy asked, clearly disappointed.

Anya shook her head mournfully.

"Like I said, wimpy. Still, vengeance is just like retail: the customer is always right, no matter how wrong she is."

"Well... be that as it may," Giles said, "It's getting late and we've all had a long day. I think perhaps it's time to decide where our guests are staying the night and get some rest."

"There's an extra room at my place, and a couch," Buffy offered. "I could take two."

"And I would be more than happy to offer Captain Picard a place to stay. I haven't much room, but I'm sure we can work something out," Giles added.

Buffy cocked an eyebrow at her Watcher.

"Giles, you had better not be doing what I think you're doing."

"That depends on what you think I'm doing."

"You're going to give up your bed and sit up all night reading stuff, aren't you? That's not okay. Neither one of us got any sleep last night on that Hokey Pokey visionquest thing and then we had a rough night tonight. That's two nights of no rest. Not okay."

"Yes... well... I'm certain..."

"I'm certain you're no help at all if you crash and burn on me. I can't take care of Dawn and you at the same time. Help me out here?"

Giles smiled quietly at her wide eyes and wistful tone.

"On one condition: you need to rest as well. Get yourself a full eight hours. I mean it, Buffy."

"Deal."

Buffy extended her hand, and Giles shook it solemnly. Both held on just a split second too long. Buffy pulled back suddenly.

"So... I'm beat. I think I'll call it a night."

"Night, Buff," Willow called.

"No dice, Will. The bot dies tonight. Come on, guys," she gestured to Riker and Troi to follow her.

Before they could get to the door, it flew open and Xander and a redheaded woman dragged in a semi-conscious teenage boy.

"What happened?" Giles asked as he brought out his first aid kit.

"This kid was in the alley behind The Bronze. I think you can guess the rest. This is one hickey he won't want to show off to his buddies."

"Beverly!" Picard exclaimed as he rushed to her side.

"I think he'll be alright, Jean-Luc. It's just... if this young man hadn't come along when he did..."

Her knees buckled and Picard helped her into a chair.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "It's just..."

"I know," Picard assured her. "It's Wesley."

"Wesley?" Xander asked. "Not another one of those."

"Do be quiet, Xander," Giles snapped as he pulled on a pair of latex gloves and examined the boys' wounds. "I think a few stitches are in order here, and some rest. I imagine you've quite a headache, haven't you?"

"S - stitches?" Wesley gulped. "What do you mean?"

Giles began to thread a surgical needle without replying. Willow cooly assisted. She filled a syringe and administered the anaesthetic.

"What are you doing to him? My God, you can't do this!" Beverly rose in horror, then sat hard when Buffy laid a hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay. They're almost like doctors.They do this sort of stuff all the time."

"Yeah? Well I am a doctor and I won't let you... butcher my son like this!"

Giles blinked in surprise.

"It was the vampire that attempted butchery. Willow and I are simply doing our best to repair the damage the demon did to... Wesley... I believe you said his name was?"

"He's telling the truth," Troi announced. "I know it looks primitive, but this is how they treat injuries in this time."

"Giles? Primitive? How come when I call him that he gets cranky, but when you do he's okay?"

"Possibly because when these people say it, they mean it quite literally, Buffy. May I?" He gestured with his needle and thread to indicate he wanted to continue his treatment of Wesley's wounds. Beverly turned to Picard. He gave her a reassuring look, and she nodded stiffly. Still, she didn't watch as Giles sewed her son's neck back together. As he finished the final stitch, Giles snipped the thread off with a tiny scissors and smiled at Wesley. "There now, good as new. Of course, I'll need to take those out in a few days, but you should be fine now. Just make sure you drink lots of liquids and get plenty of rest in the next few days."

"Okay, but where?" Wesley asked."We don't have anyplace to stay."

"No problemo," Xander assured him. "You and your lovely mother have just won an all expenses paid trip to the fabulous Casa de Xander for as long as you're staying in town."

He crossed his fingers that Anya wouldn't object too strenuously. Her eyes shot daggers into his back. He smiled weakly at her. She frowned. At last she rolled her eyes at him and nodded. He gave her a quick squeeze and gathered his belongings.

"Okay, all aboard who's coming aboard." At Beverly and Wesley's blank expressions he explained it to them. "That means, I'm leaving now, and you might want to come with me. Oh, and Buff? Since it's so late, why doesn't Dawn stay the rest of the night at my place?"

"Yeah, Xand. That'll be good. You can bring her here in the morning."

Xander rounded up Anya, Beverly and Wesley. He turned to Willow.

"Tara's still at my place. Want me to take you there?"

"No, that's okay, Xand. I have a couple things to do first. Tell Tara I'll meet her back at the dorms later."

Xander left with his troops.

A moment later, Buffy turned to Giles.

"I better go home, too, if I'm gonna get those eight hours you were talking about."

"Yes, yes of course. And we'll... um... meet here tomorrow, shall we?"

"Sure thing, Watcher mine. Bring donuts. Extra jellies."

"Your wish is my command," he replied with a wry smile.

"Don't stay up too late. And don't ask too much about the future. I've seen the movies; you can mess it up that way."

"Have you any more indispensible advice to give me before you leave, Miss Landers?"

"Nope. I don't think so. Wouldn't want to overload your brain, would I?"

They smiled warmly at one another. Buffy then turned to her houseguests.

"I don't have the car, so we're burning shoe leather. Sorry."

"That's alright," Riker said. "I'm sure we'll be fine. How far is it?"

"Not too far. Maybe a mile or so."

Buffy lead Riker and Troi out the door.

Giles turned to Willow.

"I'm afraid I have to go, too. Sorry."

"That's okay, Giles. I just have some stuff I have to do before I go home."

"Yes, but you haven't a key."

"You could lend me yours. I could give it back in the morning when we Scooby here."

Giles considered for a moment, then pulled a key off his ring.

"I suppose I really ought to have keys made for you and Buffy anyway. You girls ought to have access to the place. Why don't you have copies made tomorrow and give it back after?"

"Really? Thanks Giles. That'll be great!"

"Don't stay here too long. And be careful walking back to campus."

"I will. Goodnight."

Giles led Picard out the door. Willow watched them until the BMW pulled away and down the block. When she was certain they were gone, she closed the door and headed back to the now forgotten Buffybot.

"Now, let's get you up and running."

* * * * *

Data, Worf, and Geordie had been sitting waiting for Buffy to get home for some time. They had yet to decide what precisely they were going to say to explain their presence.

"Do we tell her we're here from the future to save her life? Somehow I don't think she'll believe that," Geordie mused.

"We are dressed in the style of the period she lives in," Data pointed out. "Perhaps we need not say anything about the future. Perhaps she will not notice."

"Data, she's going to notice that you and Worf aren't human and I don't see how she's gonna miss my visor. There's no way she's not going to notice three strange men in her bedroom when she gets home. I say we tell her the truth."

"What about the Prime Directive?"

"I don't think there's a whole lot we can do about that."

"I'm hungry," Worf complained, "and there is no replicator in this room."

"Maybe there's one downstairs," Geordie suggested.

The Klingon decided to investigate Geordie's theory. He headed down and wandered through the living room. While he found an interesting electrical appliance in the room, he decided it must not be food related. Perhaps some form of primitive computer judging from the screen.

He moved on to a room with a table and chairs. Nothing electrical in there. It appeared to be something like the Ready Room of the Enterprise, but wooden. Next to that, there was another room that seemed more like what he had in mind. The room hummed gently with electricity and there were several items that looked as though they might have some function in food preparation.

When he found a small, white, rectangular object with a door on it, he decided he'd found the replicator. He stood before it and made his request.

"Rokeg blood pie and prune juice."

Nothing happened.

He repeated his request.

Still no response from the machine.

Worf growled in frustration.

* * * * *

Giles opened the door to his flat and gestured to Picard to enter.

"It's not really designed for entertaining, but I call it home."

"Very nice," Picard said politely.

"Can I get you anything? Tea?"

"Earl Grey. Hot."

"Um... Earl Grey, you say? I think I have some of that. If not, would Darjeeling do?"

"Of course, Mr. Giles."

"Oh no, please, it's just Giles."

"Giles. Of course."

Picard sat a bit stiffly on the sofa as Giles made tea. He looked about himself. When he'd first entered, Picard had said the flat was nice out of mere politeness, but now that he had a chance to really look, he decided it was a very comfortable spot, if a little quirky. The Captain felt sure he'd be awkward living in a place where the bedroom was so entirely exposed to public view, but otherwise it would have suited him perfectly.

The place was compact without being too crowded, welcoming without being fussy. Despite the initial impression of Spartan simplicity, there was considerable detail to draw the eye and please the senses. Spanish tiles decorated the stairs and the mantlepiece, and the walls were painted a soothing shade of green. From the personal touches Giles himself had added, it was clear that he was a man of learning and taste. It was equally clear that nothing had been chosen or displayed simply in order to make that obvious to the casual visitor.

Picard stood and inspected the collection in one of the bookshelves. Mixed in with volumes of mythology and demonology, he found many of the classic authors he himself loved and admired. He pulled the fine volume of Shakespeare from the shelf and turned a few pages with reverence.

"That belonged to my father," came a quiet voice behind him.

Picard turned, startled. He hadn't heard Giles come out of the kitchen, and yet here stood the man not two feet from him.

"Tea, Captain?"

"Please, it's Jean-Luc."

"Do you care for Shakespeare, Jean-Luc?"

"Very much. I believe that if one wishes to understand the human condition, one should study Shakespeare's writings above all others."

Giles set down the tea tray on the coffee table.

"I once played Ophelia," he told the Captain. "At school. I must have been the tallest Ophelia on record. I'd very nearly reached my full height, but my voice hadn't changed then. It chose closing night to begin doing so. A bit embarrassing, I must say. Do you take sugar or milk?"

"Neither, thank you."

Giles handed Picard a teacup and took the other himself. The Captain smiled when he realized how intently the other man was looking at him.

Giles shook his head and looked down at his tea, a self-deprecating smile forming on his lips.

"I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to stare. It's just... well, it's not every day one meets one's future, is it?"

"Or one's past, either," Picard replied with a similar smile.

"The past is something I'm well acquainted with. In fact, to hear Buffy and the others speak, I still live there. Perhaps they're right."

Picard didn't know what to say to that, so he took another sip of tea and looked around for another subject. He noticed an intriguing object sitting on the mantlepiece and went to inspect it. Giles followed him and took it down, his eyes shining with excitement, his large hands astonishingly gentle with his prize.

"I found this on a dig in Egypt. Nobody else knew what it was, but I did. It's -"

"A symbol of worship among the followers of an ancient religion devoted to the idea that aliens had come from beyond the stars to lead mankind to eternal peace and prosperity. I'm afraid I've forgotten the name of the sect."

Giles grinned like a small boy.

"You know something of archeology, then?"

"It's a hobby of mine. I'm afraid I'm not as well versed in Terran archeology as that of some other planets."

With that, the barriers were down completely. Giles eagerly shared his finds from digs he'd gone on twenty years before, and Picard told tales of his own adventures in archeology. Soon they were sharing a bottle of good red wine Giles had been saving and discussing their favorite novels. Shortly after that, they moved on to whiskey and music.

Neither paid the least bit of attention to the clock.

* * * * *

Xander ushered his guests into his apartment.

"Here we go, but you might want to keep quiet; I've got another couple people here tonight."

Tara came out of the bedroom, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Willow, honey is that... oh. No Willow."

Xander made the introductions and explained what the newcomers were doing there. Tara accepted his story without a comment.

"I guess I should go home, then, if you're here. Dawn's asleep. I think it's been a long day for her."

"Yeah, we'll let her sleep. Do you have a cross?" Xander asked.

"And a stake and a couple spells up my sleeve just in case. I'll be fine. That is if...?"

Xander shook his head.

"Spike didn't talk. I don't know why. And Buffy and Giles said the bot goes."

"Good. That was... um... sorta creepy. And it takes a lot more to creep me these days than it used to."

With that, the witch headed out the door. Xander rubbed his hands as he looked at his guests.

"So. Let's find you someplace to sleep for the night," he said.

He looked around. He frowned. He suddenly realized that he had a one bedroom apartment and three houseguests, one of whom was already sleeping in the bedroom.

"Why don't you take the couch, Beverly. Wes and I can sack out on the floor. I've got sleeping bags."

* * * * *

As Buffy entered the front door, she heard an odd sound from the kitchen. She gestured silently for Riker and Troi to stay where they were and handed them a cross, just in case. She silently made her way to the source of the noise.

There stood a huge creature, his forehead ridged like a vampire's, and his teeth just as sharp. His eyes, however, weren't yellow and Buffy knew for a fact she'd never invited anything that looked like this into her house.

To add to the confusion, the creature was making strange, gutteral noises and appeared to be beating up her microwave.

"Hey! Big and fangy! What's your trauma?"

Worf turned, still growling. Buffy lunged for the creature, fists and feet flying. In a matter of a few seconds, the Klingon was splayed on the kitchen floor. Buffy straddled his midsection and raised her stake on high.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not nice to fool with a pissed off Slayer?"

As she began to plunge her weapon downward, a surprisingly strong grip stopped her. She looked up to see a pair of yellow eyes without a ridged forehead.

"Huh?"

Data calmly disarmed the confused girl and helped her unceremoniously to her feet.

"I am sorry, but I cannot permit you to harm Lt. Worf."

"That's a Lieutenant? And what are you?"

"I am Lt. Commander Data of Starfleet. I am an android."

"Another bot? What? Did Warren sell his plans to Radio Shack? Are they putting out a kit now? Whose not so inflatable love doll are you?"

"While I do not understand many of the questions you have asked, I can assure you that I am involved in no sexual relationship at the present time. I am, however, programmed to please the human female with a wide variety of techniques, should you so desire."

Buffy took a step back and raised her hands before herself.

"Oh, I am so not looking for love in all the metal places. And what the hell are you and woofyboy doing here anyway?"

"The same thing we are, I imagine," Riker said from the doorway. "it's good to see you, Data."

"Likewise, I am sure, Commander."

* * * * *

Buffybot's eyes flew open and her arm extended violently behind her, knocking Willow to the floor.

"Hey! Ow! What's with the hitting?"

The bot was on its feet in a defensive posture. Her head swung to and fro.

"Where is she? What has she done with Spike? I must save him."

"The battle's over. Spike's okay. Sort of. You had a malfunction and I repaired it and I don't think I like the way you thank people for that."

The robot beamed.

"Willow. You are good with computers. You fixed me. I'm glad. Now I must return to Spike. He needs me."

The robot walked in a determined line toward the door.

"No!" Willow yelled. "I - I mean, Spike said to say you should stay with me for a couple days. Where no one else can see you."

"Why would you want that, Willow? I am not programmed to be lesbian. I will go to Spike now."

"I don't want you to be lesbian," Willow said with a look of near horror on her face. "It's just we need to keep you someplace Glory doesn't know about. It's so you can help Spike out."

"It will help Spike if I'm not with him? I don't understand."

"Trust me. It's for the best."

The robot cocked her head to one side and considered for a moment. Then her face brightened.

"Are we playing hide and seek? Spike likes that game."

"Yes. Yes, we're playing hide and seek and we need to hide you for a while where no one will find you, okay?"

"Okay."

Willow breathed a sigh of relief as she led the Buffybot out the door and down the street. She felt sure the bot would be helpful to the gang, but she needed to wear down their resistance to the idea before springing it on them again.

A moment later she shuddered at the thought of what sort of variations Spike might have put on a game like hide and seek.

* * * * *

Giles and Picard had had quite a bit to drink and were singing in harmony.

God bless the human elbow
God bless it where it bends
If it bent too long, we'd be dry I fear
If it bent too short, we'd be drinking in our ear
So God bless it where it bends

The captain's robust baritone and Giles' cultured tenor filled the room. They burst into laughter that was interrupted by the sound of one man clapping.

"Jean-Luc, who knew you were such a songbird?"

"Q," the captain sputtered.

"Who's this pillock?" Giles asked drunkenly.

"I'm Q." The entity turned hurt eyes to Picard. "You didn't tell him about me? You never want to introduce me to your friends."

"We preferred to stick to pleasant subjects."

Q moved closer and sniffed Picard's breath.

"You're drunk," he said accusingly. "What's it like?"

"Much better before the hallucinations began," Giles muttered. "Right, I'm off to bed. Jean-Luc, would you prefer the bed or the sofa?"

Picard attempted to focus on the stairs for a moment, then looked at the sofa he was already sitting on.

"This will be fine, Giles."

"Don't you even want to know what I'm doing here?" Q pouted.

"No," both men chorused.

"Well that's not very nice of you." Q glared at Giles. "I think you're a bad influence on him."

"I should certainly hope so," Giles returned as he staggered to the stairway pulling off his sweater as he went.

Picard gave a watery giggle which rapidly turned into a snore. Q sighed and shook his head.

"One night out with the boys and look at you, Jean-Luc. I'll come back when you're sober.

He snapped his fingers and disappeared just as Giles' turtleneck hit the spot where he was sitting.

* * * * *

Buffy was in a dangerous mood by the time she reached the Magic Box the next morning. She repeated the mantra that kept her from attacking everyone she met:

"Giles will be here soon with jelly donuts."

She went into the training room and began warming up. She felt sure Giles would be at his stuffiest after spending the evening with Captain Picard. Giles at his most repressed was impulsiveness itself compared with that guy.

"I bet they spent the night discussing how to get those embarassing trifle stains out of tweed."

She launched a vicious kick at the training dummy. Straw wafted in the air. The door opened.

"Gee, Buff. I worked hard on that. You want to take it easy on Scarecrow guy, there?"

"Hi. Xander. Um... maybe you could help me? I seem to be sort of... stuck."

With a small smile, Xander crossed the room, took Buffy's foot and helped pull it from the dummy.

"So what's with the unhappy feet, Buff?"

The Slayer slumped into the sofa.

"I had a bad night."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not really."

"Me neither. But that Wesley kid? Not improving my image of that name any time soon. He's a menace to society."

"I have to get a new microwave. That Worf guy broke mine. He said it wouldn't give him the food he asked for. Has he never heard of the joys of Lean Cuisine?"

"Beverly's okay, except that if I say that to Anya, she gets threatened. Something about my track record with redheads."

"I got propositioned by a robot. Not helping my self image, here. And now Giles is late. He's never late. In fact, the last time he was late... we did really get rid of Eyghon forever, didn't we?"

"Giles is fine; I'm sure. He probably just had to... I don't know... look, he's okay. He'll be here. Maybe he had to wait for them to make more jelly donuts or something."

Buffy stood and began to pace nervously.

"No, it's more than that. I think there's something really wrong with him, Xander. You don't think Glory could have gotten him, do you? Or - or Ethan? We don't know for sure where he is. He could have come and turned Giles into a demon again."

Xander placed his hands on Buffy's shoulders to stop her progress.

"Buffy! This is Giles we're talking about. He can take care of himself."

"But what if something's really wrong?"

"Is there any reason why it should be?"

Buffy sighed and sat again.

"I guess not. It's just with everything that's going on and all these weird people showing up last night..."

"Gotta say, with all our visitors from another planet out there, I'm not sure there's room for the customers. And it must have been a little wigsome to come home to find three more in your house. Especially those three: a bot, a blind man with a banana clip over his eyes, and something that looks like a mutant vamp."

"As for example. And one was locked in mortal combat with a minor kitchen appliance. And now no Giles. Plus I really hate leaving Dawn at school all day. I can't protect her there. Makes me a little edgy."

"You think?" Xander asked wryly as he picked a piece of straw out of Buffy's otherwise immaculate hair. "Giles will be here."

Buffy turned a pout to her friend.

"Am I total pathetic girl?"

"Only so's your best friends would notice."

They smiled and Buffy rested her head against Xander's shoulder.

"What would I do without you, Xand?"

"Probably work yourself up into a full Rumplestiltskin tizzy. Not pretty. I don't wanna be picking Buffy bits out of the walls here after you spontaneously combust."

"So it's a cleaning issue?"

"Mainly. But it's also an I don't want to lose my Buffy buddy issue."

"Okay," Buffy took a deep breath. "Back on the Slayer clock. Maybe we better find out what's going on in the wonderful world of magical retail."

Xander hesitated.

"Not pretty there, either. It seems that Giles decided you and Willow should have keys to this place. Anya's a little... threatened by it."

"So you chose the lesser of two freakouts and it was me? How scary is that?"

"In my own defense, I wasn't expecting freakout back here. You training, maybe you getting sweaty, but not meltdown. I'm actually sorta glad to see it."

"So you can play Sir Galahad?"

"So I can see Buffy's still in there under all the defences."

Still here, somewhere," Buffy said as tears welled in her eyes. "I know I haven't been really there for a while... I just... I'll be okay. There's just been a lot to deal with, y'know? But I'm okay, really. I'm dealing. This is me dealing. I should really work some more now, okay?"

"Sure," Xander replied with a half hearted nod. "I better get back to Anya and Will before they hurt each other."

He hesitated with his hand on the doorknob.

"If you need anything, Buff, anything at all, you just call me, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll let you know when Giles gets here."

* * * * *

Giles opened one eye and immediately regretted doing so. He scrunched it closed again. His left hand flew to his aching brow and began to massage it. A small groan escaped his lips. He felt like death.

He slowly became aware that somebody was downstairs. Somebody entirely too cheerful. Somebody singing. The smell of eggs frying wafted to his nose. His gorge rose. He swallowed hard and allowed a shudder to pass through his body.

"Oh dear lord," he breathed unsteadily.

"Are you awake yet, Giles?" came the revoltingly cheery voice from downstairs. "I've got breakfast cooking."

Giles swallowed hard again and turned his face to his pillow. As he heard footsteps climbing the stairs, he pulled the covers over his head.

Picard appeared at the top step and smiled wryly at the lump of covers on Giles' bed.

"Isn't Buffy expecting you?"

"Go away and let me die," came a muffled reply from under the quilt.

Picard approached the bed.

"Here, drink this. You'll feel better."

He pulled back the covers and thrust a glass at Giles. The Watcher rolled to his back and sniffed suspiciously at the proffered drink.

"What is it?"

"Old family recipe. I come from a long line of winemakers and sailors. It will make you feel better."

"It smells foul."

"It works."

Giles sat up a bit. His head spun. He closed his eyes for a moment. At last, he took a tentative sip of Picard's remedy. He grimaced.

"You're quite certain this isn't poison?"

"Not like that. Take it in one gulp so you don't have to taste it."

Giles took a deep breath and tossed back the entire glass in one swallow. It churned his insides as it went down. Moments later, however, his stomach began to settle and his headache lifted. He blinked, grabbed his glasses and put them on.

"Good lord! That's quite astonishing!"

"Breakfast is nearly done. Put some clothes on and let's eat."

Picard hurried down the stairs to the kitchen and his neglected eggs. As Giles pulled on trousers, Picard called up to him.

"Perhaps we should find something to eat on the way."

The smoke alarm went off.

* * * * *

Anya glared at the crowd of refugees from the future milling about the shop. She leaned over to Xander and whispered conspiritorially.

"Look at them. It's disgusting."

"Okay, I'll bite," Xander said in confusion. "What's so disgusting?"

Anya gestured at the visitors.

"Them. They're unAmerican."

"I see your lips moving, but the bad dubbing from the Japanese must be confusing me."

"I've realized something recently, Xander. I'm not just human; I'm an American."

"Yeah, I guess. This is where you became mortal."

"So I've been reading a lot about the good ol' us of A; embracing the extraordinarily precious ideology that's helped to shape and define it."

"Democracy?"

"Capitalism. The free market depends on the profitable exchange of goods for currency. It's a system of symbiotic beauty apparently lost on these people. They don't even have money when they come from."

"And this is bad how?"

Anya shot her boyfriend a dark look.

"That sounds like Communism."

"No! It's just... I dunno... no money means no poor people. Beverly was telling me about it last night. In their time, everybody's taken care of. Nobody dies because they can't afford a doctor, anyone who wants and is smart enough can go to college. Pardon me for failing to see a downside."

"Well, it's unAmerican," Anya sniffed. "Oh, and you know what else is unAmerican? French people."

"I'll give you that one, An. French people are not American even when they sound English."

"Like that Captain Picard."

"Yeah. Like him."

Xander searched his mind desperately for another topic of conversation.

"So... what do you think is keeping Giles?"

* * * * *

Glory lay back in her bathtub, a thick blanket of bubbles caressing her. She sighed contentedly.

"We got this part right, that's for sure. Lot of sucky things in this dimension -- bubble baths? Not one of 'em." She blew a handful of bubbles into the air. "Know what I mean?"

"I am in thunderous agreement, oh glittering, glistening Glorificus," Jinx agreed, praying that her words had been meant for him. It was difficult to tell with the blindfold he wore. The other two minions in the room, Murk and Slook, were similarly visually impaired. While it meant that none of them would be blinded by the magnificence that was Glory in her naked glory, it did make grovelling adequately a challenge.

"I wasn't talking to you."

Jinx cringed and held Glory's chocolates closer to himself. Perhaps if there was a chance of damaging them, she wouldn't damage him.

"Uh, begging your pardon, and begging in general, but... were you talking to me?" Murk ventured.

"Eww. Yeah, right. Like any of you have ever bathed, anyway."

"Oh, but we do, your scrumptiousness," Murk contradicted. "We bathe in your splendiforous radiance, your aromatic..."

"How about you shut up and listen to me, you disgusting little fools?" Glory barked. The three minions at her side bowed their heads in obiescence. "Okay. Now, I asked for the Key, and you brought me a vampire. A pulseless, impure, follicly-fried vampire. Loofah!"

Murk produced a large loofah and gave it to her. She began scrubbing her leg vigorously.

"So, what I think we have here is a failure for you to do your frickin' jobs, pardon my French."

She shoved the loofah back into Murk's hand.

"Mimosa."

Slook offered the tray in the general direction of the splashes. Glory took the glass delicately.

"Mmm... vitamins." She sighed as she sipped. Her tone changed immediately, though, to that of the determined Hellbitch her minions knew and toadied to. "So I think you better rack your little minion brains, and tell me everything that you saw when you were spying on Buffy and her wacky pals. Everything. Then I'll figure out who the Key is."

* * * * *

As soon as Tara headed out the door for her shower, Willow hurried to the closet and opened it.

"Hey, are you okay in there?"

"I am fine, Willow," the bot replied. "Do you want me to come out of the closet yet?"

"No, no, not just yet. You need to stay in here for a while."

"Will Spike find me?"

"Yes," Willow assured her, "he'll find you. But not until we're good and ready for him to, okay?"

The bot pouted in confusion.

"I'm ready for Spike to find me now."

"But I'm not, and neither is anybody else."

"But I'm feeling all tense," Buffybot complained as she rotated her shoulders. "Spike knows how to make it go away."

"Tense...?"

"Because I was in battle. After, I get tense and Spike makes it all better."

"Do I want to know how?"

"We have sex," the robot replied eagerly. "That makes the tension go away."

Willow shuddered.

"I didn't want to know that. Sheesh, have you thought of taking subtlety lessons from Anya?"

"No. Do you think I should?"

Before Willow could reply, the door opened and Tara returned.

"Honey, have you seen my... wh - what's that doing here?"

She stared at the robot in confusion.

"I can explain," Willow began.

"We are playing hide and seek," the Buffybot cheerfully supplied. "Spike will find me soon."

* * * * *

Troi put a hand to her forehead and rubbed it delicately. She felt Riker approach her and place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You know, you could step outside for a minute. I don't think anyone would mind."

She covered his hand with hers.

"I'm all right, Will."

"Don't, Deanna."

"Don't what?"

He turned her to face him.

"You don't have to be half Betazed to pick up on all the repressed emotion around here. They're all ready to pop. Take a break before you do."

Troi smiled wryly.

"I thought I was the Counselor."

"Who was it who said that doctors make the worst patients? I'm serious, Imzadi."

Deanna shook her head stubbornly.

"I think Buffy needs to talk to someone. Her emotions are intense, Will, but she doesn't seem to know what to do with them. If she doesn't get help soon, she's either going to explode or shut down entirely and I don't know which would be worse."

"Is she ready to talk? She doesn't seem the trusting type."

"But she is, underneath it all. I get the sense that she would be a happier person if she could just tell somebody what's going on in her heart. Repression is more a habit for her than her nature."

"And how are you going to get past all that habit?"

"The same way I do with any patient. Slowly, and possibly painfully. Trust me, Will, Buffy and I will both feel much better once we've talked."

* * * * *

"I can't believe how much better I feel," Giles wondered aloud for the twentieth time. "By rights I ought to be wishing someone would just come along and decapitate me, but I feel fine. Better than fine. What was in that stuff?"

"It's a secret recipe," Picard said with a wry smile.

"Is there no chance that you'd be willing to share it?"

"Sorry. I swore on the graves of my ancestors."

"Ah. Well, I suppose one can't really break that sort of oath, can one?"

"Is that how it is for you?" Picard asked. "Being a Watcher? You can't break your oath to this Council you spoke of?"

Giles smiled, a brief flash of amusement crossing his face. It was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

"Not precisely. Once, I suppose, but not anymore. They send me a salary, but I stopped doing this for them a very long time ago. Ah! Here's the place."

He turned his steps in the doorway of the donut shop. Picard followed curiously. He'd played games in Holodeck recreations of twentieth century California, but the reality was very different, indeed. Of course, the fact that most of the simulations he'd been in were set in the 1940's in San Francisco accounted for some of the changes, but this was not what he'd expected at all. From Giles' sporty red convertable to the strange piercings and tattoos on the sullen youth behind the counter, everything seemed both sleeker and more savage than the detective scenarios Picard was familiar with.

Not for the first time, Picard found himself wishing he'd had more time to prepare for this expedition of Q's. He hated being without a plan, a set of facts he could calculate to come up with the necessary answer. Now he found himself with no plan, few facts, and not a clue as to how long he had to come up with an answer. And Giles, while a pleasant companion, was fairly reticent with details unless Buffy ordered him to share them. Ask him a question about archeological findings in Pompeii and he was likely to talk your ear off, so long as he could convince himself his listener was the least bit interested. Ask him what the Key was and why Glory wanted it, and he deferred to Buffy's discretion.

This was not the usual way of things. The chain of command determined that the warrior followed orders issued by the general. Giles was clearly the general. He was older, more knowledgable, more experienced, and fated to train and guide Buffy.

And yet it seemed he followed her at least as much as she followed him. Probably more so.

As Picard mused on the strange ways of this era and this place, Giles ordered an assortment of donuts. Extra jellies. That way he and Buffy wouldn't squabbleover them.

* * * * *

"Oops!"

Anya shot a disgusted glare at Wesley as an object tumbled from his hands to the floor with a discreet shattering sound.

"Can't I hurt him? Just maybe break his hands?" she asked Xander. "Then he won't be able to pick things up and he won't drop them anymore."

"An, these people are our guests. Y'know, people we don't hurt no matter how much we may want to. Just another wacky human custom."

"I'm tired of human customs. They make no sense and they stop me doing what I want to."

"Yeah. Being human is a bitch like that, isn't it?"

Xander flinched when Wesley bumped into another shelf. He breathed again when nothing fell this time.

"Maybe I'll get him out of here. For his own protection."

* * * * *

Buffy looked up at the sound of the door opening.

"Giles! Finally! I was... wrong. You're not Giles. Sorry."

"Are you worried about him?" Troi asked.

Buffy returned to her stretches with a shrug.

"He can take care of himself."

"Do you mind if I stay a while?"

"You're here. It's okay, I guess."

Troi sat down on the couch.

"Why were you so sure I was Giles just now?"

"No reason. Just he's usually here by now, that's all."

"You and he are very close, aren't you?"

"Meaning...?" Buffy's voice took on a dangerous tone.

"You and he seem to care about one another very much."

"He's my Watcher. I'm his Slayer. We're friends. Except we don't really hang or anything. He helps me protect Dawn and he helps me kill nasties. That's it."

"Did I suggest anything else?"

Buffy shrugged.

"Not in so many words, but you wouldn't be the first."

"Why does that bother you?"

"Okay, you may be an intergalactic shrink, but I don't remember asking for a twelve step program here. I don't have time for all that psychology crap."

"What makes you call psychology crap?"

"Well the fact that the two people most into psychology I've ever known were also the two people most in need of padded cells I've ever known might have something to do with it. One tried to kill me so I wouldn't stop her building an army of Frankenstein demons and the other decided I didn't love him enough for his ego and thought he could get my attention back by sneaking out in the middle of the night and paying vampires to suck him off - and I'm not talking blow jobs. I'm talking 'have a bloody Mary off me'. So if you're looking to take a peek inside my psyche, save yourself the trouble. Just ask me what you want to know and don't give me any lines. I don't have time for them."

"All right. No lines. Why are you so worried about Giles?"

"What makes you think I am?"

Troi patted the seat next to her, inviting Buffy to join her. The Slayer rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I know you don't entirely trust me, Buffy, but I can help you if you let me."

"That's not an answer."

"There's something you need to know about me, Buffy. I'm not completely human."

"Bully for you. What's the not human part?"

"My mother comes from a planet called Betazoid. Her people communicate by reading one anothers' minds."

"So you can just look in my head and tell what I'm thinking?"

"Not quite. I'm only half Betazed. My father was human. But my parentage has left me with a certain... sensitivity to emotion in others."

"Well I'm insensitive. Spell it out for me."

"I'm empathic. I can't read thoughts, but I can read emotions. I can't tell exactly what you're thinking, but I know the general state you're in. I know you're very worried right now. When I walked in the room, I felt a huge wave of relief come over you, which disappeared as soon as you saw I wasn't Giles."

Buffy turned her attention to the punching bag. She took a few half hearted swings before answering.

"Okay. I'm wigged. Giles is never late. And that Captain guy doesn't seem like a real slacker type, either. Aren't you worried?"

"Let's say I'm a little surprised. But then, I imagine he's very excited about being here."

"Here? Sunnydale? Why would anyone be excited about being here?"

"Captain Picard is very interested in archeology. Exo-archeology more than Terran, but still, the past fascinates him."

"And he's out there somewhere with Retro man. Great. I'll never get my donuts."

Troi smiled to herself as Buffy flopped onto the couch. She could still feel some concern radiating off the girl, but the majority had been replaced with a much more surprising emotion: jealousy.

* * * * *

"Tara, I can explain this, really," Willow began.

"How?" The blonde demanded. "How can you explain this? What is the Buffybot doing here?"

"I have to keep it here for a while, Tara. Just a few days."

"When did it get here?" Tara asked. Willow turned bright red and began to stammer. "Ohmigod! It was here last night... when we... Willow, how could you?"

"How could I what?"

"Not tell me that was in the closet when - and I don't think it knows how to keep quiet about stuff."

"Spike doesn't like me to be quiet. He likes me to tell him how good he is."

"Shut up!" Willow ordered the bot. "Tara, honey, look. I didn't know how to tell you I brought it home. It got hurt in the battle last night but I knew I could fix it and *poof*, double the Buffy, which is a good. Don't you see?"

"But it knows what you call my... a -and what I call your... and what we... and what she knows, Spike's gonna know and I don't want him to know."

"He won't know, Tara," Willow soothed her. "I can erase that, I'm sure."

"Erase what?" asked the bot. "I don't want to be erased."

"No, not you," Willow explained patiently, "just some of the stuff you heard last night."

"That's not good enough, Willow," Tara said. "I can't believe you let me... with someone else right there and everything!"

"I don't want to be erased. Spike won't like it, either."

"It's a robot, Tara, I can fix everything so it won't remember that at all."

"But I'll remember."

"Tara, please..."

"And why is it here, anyway? You say you fixed it after the battle. Why couldn't you do that at the Magic Box? Couldn't it have stayed there? Did Buffy tell you to take it home?"

"No, she didn't. She really didn't."

Tara stared in amazement at her girlfriend.

"Buffy didn't want you to fix it, did she?"

"She doesn't understand. It can be helpful. MultiSlayer, Tara. It'll be useful, really. I just have to convince them..."

"Them? Willow, how many people said no?"

"Just Buffy... and Giles... and Xander and, okay, Anya."

"Add my name to the list."

"I'm glad Willow fixed me," the bot chimed in cheerfully. "Can I go find Spike now?"

"No!" both witches yelled.

"Willow, I don't think you understand how upsetting this must be for Buffy. How would you feel if someone made a robot you and made it have sex with... with Anya or something?"

"But it couldn't do magic. It wouldn't be any good for anything but sex. This robot can slay stuff. And it seems to me with Glory on the loose, we can use as many Slayers as we can get our hands on."

"How about Faith? She's a Slayer. Are you going to break her out of prison?"

"She's a psycho. Faith would probably just team up with Glory. This won't. This is whatever we make it be."

"With Buffy's face on it. Honey, you can't do this to her. Not now. It's too much."

"But I'm doing it for her."

"Buffy doesn't see it that way."

* * * * *

"What's this place called?" Wesley asked as he craned his neck and gawked frankly.

"Video arcade," Xander informed him.

"What does it do?"

"*It* doesn't do anything. *You* play games on these monitors until you run out of quarters. That way you don't break all the merchandise in the shop where my girlfriend works and you get to stay alive."

"What's with all the raised buttons? An integrated pad is much more efficient, and voice command is best."

"Except for the minor problem that we haven't invented those things yet."

"What's this?"

Wesley peered curiously at the strange object protruding from one of the games.

"It's called a joystick."

"That's a really dumb thing."

Xander rolled his eyes.

"Sorry for the backwardness of my time, Spaceboy. We have what we have."

"So what do I do now?"

"You pick a game, feed in the quarters, and blast some hostile aliens."

"What if they're not hostile?"

"These are shoot 'em up video games. The aliens are always hostile."

Neither noticed a small, robed figure in a dark corner staring with beady eyes at them. The scabby creature scurried off into the street.

* * * * *

"How long have you known Giles?"

"Four years. Ever since I moved to Sunnydale, which was right after he moved here."

"And he trains you?"

"Yep. Life's work, destiny, blah, blah, blah. But at least he doesn't have to be the school librarian anymore."

"Librarian?"

"Oh, that was his cover when we got here, so nobody would know what I did nights."

Troi nodded sagely.

"That was a good choice. Nobody would think twice about a student going to the library."

"That sort of depends on the student," Buffy observed. "I was mainly noted by my teachers for leaving an empty chair sitting there all by itself because there was an elsewhere I was at."

"Is that why you said that earlier? About people mistaking your relationship with Giles for something it isn't?"

"Kids have crude minds. So do principals. And professional werewolf hunters. And these people just don't get how awful office romances are. Personally, I stand cured of them."

"I see. And you're right. Dating someone you work with is somewhat problematical."

"And there speaks the voice of experience. I guess that's why you and Will aren't dating?"

"That's a lot of it. Of course, we're still very good friends, but we see people and we've gotten over each other."

"Still," Buffy said, "he is seriously of the studly."

"But he's an officer on the ship I serve on."

"And office romances suck."

The two heaved a pair of heartfelt sighs.

* * * * *

"Please don't make me do this, Tara."

"You have to, Willow. Think of Buffy's feelings."

"I'm thinking of her lifespan here. Am I the only one who gets that?"

"I get it, honey. Yes, this might help Buffy live longer, but she doesn't want it like that, and I don't blame her one bit. The only answer is to deactivate it."

"But I don't want to be deactivated," the bot pouted. "I want Spike to make the tension go away."

"See?" Tara said. "I wouldn't want something like that wandering around with my face. Please, Willow, I know you meant well, but this has to stop. Deactivate the robot."

Willow looked from her girlfriend to the robot and back again. At last she nodded her head miserably.

"Okay. I guess I sorta have to. But it was still a good idea."

"It would have been, if Buffy had wanted it."

"I better get my tools. One deactivated bot coming right up."

The bot looked at the two witches incredulously.

"But I don't want to be deactivated. Willow, you're my best friend. And Tara, you're my friend, too. Don't you want me to live?"

"Sorry, Buffybot," Willow said sadly. "But Buffy not-bot doesn't want you around. I guess you, me and Spike are the only ones who don't agree... and did I just agree with Spike? Okay, that makes this a whole lot easier for me."

The redhead opened up her toolkit and pulled out a screwdriver.

"Sorry, Buffybot. This won't hurt a bit."

Before Willow could open up the bot's control panel, Buffybot flung out an arm and knocked the tool from Willow's hand. The girl fell to the ground, hard. Tara ran to her girlfriend.

"Willow!"

In the confusion, the bot ran out the door of Willow's dormroom and down the hall, knocking students out of the way left and right as she went.

Willow began to stir.

"Ouch," she complained. "Now that hurt. What happened?"

"The Buffybot got away," Tara told her. "We have to find it and stop it. Preferably before it gets to Spike."

The pair hurried to the door. At the last moment they came to a halt and looked at their pajamas and robes.

"Clothes," Willow decided, "might be a good idea now."

* * * * *

Giles and Captain Picard walked into the Magic Box to find Anya and Dr. Crusher involved in a strenuous disagreement. Riker rushed to the Captain's side with a sigh of relief.

"Captain," he said, "am I glad to see you."

"What's going on, Number One?"

"It seems that Wesley broke some things before Xander got him out of here a while ago. Anya wants Beverly to pay for them. Unfortunately, Beverly doesn't have any gold-pressed latinum - not that Anya would accept it as payment. Beverly tried to talk Anya into letting Wesley work it off in the store. So Anya made a few choice remarks about what she thinks of Wesley."

"Which would not endear her to Beverly."

"If that was what she was going for, I don't think it worked."

"Suggestions?" The Captain looked expectantly to Riker and Giles.

"I would suggest separating them for a start," Giles offered drily. "Commander, have you seen Buffy this morning?"

"She's in the back, training."

"Thank you. I trust I can leave this... situation in your capable hands, yes?"

Without waiting for a reply, Giles headed for the training room with his box of donuts and a large cup of coffee.

* * * * *

The Buffybot raced down the streets in a blind panic. All she wanted was to get where she would be safe. Spike would protect her from Willow and Tara. She knew it.

If she could just reach him before Willow caught her.

Robotic Slayer speed was clearly on her side. The bot reached Restfield cemetery and raced for Spike's crypt. She pounded on the door wildly.

"Spike! Spike! Let me in, please!"

The vampire cocked his head and rose slowly. He moved gingerly between his natural wariness and his wounds from the torture Glory and her minions had put him through the night before.

"Slayer?"

"Please, Spike, you have to let me in! Willow wants to kill me!"

"What are you nattering on about?" Spike said as he opened the door. "Red wouldn't hurt a fly."

He shut the door and turned to look at the Slayer in confusion.

"Ow!" he yelled when she grabbed him into a fierce embrace. "Watch the muscles! That bloody hurts!"

The bot released him immediately.

"I'm sorry Spike. I didn't mean to hurt you. Shall I kiss you and make you feel better?"

The bot dropped to her knees. Spike jumped back.

"Come on, Slayer! A joke's a joke, but this one has gone on too long. You made your point last night. Go back to your little pals and tell them Spike's not biting this time."

"I don't understand," the bot said, hurt and confusion filling her eyes. "I just wanted to make you feel better. That always makes you feel better. And I want the tension to go away."

"The ten...?" Spike cursed under his breath as he figured it out. "You're the bleeding thing that got me tortured in the first place! Get out!"

He strode to the door and flung it open. The bot stood lost in confusion.

"Spike, don't you love me?" she asked with a wobbling chin.

"No, I don't. You're just a pile of circuits and wires and suchlike. Now I've tasted the real thing, you're not good enough. Now get out of here before I turn you off permanently by tearing your insides out with my bare bloody hands!"

The bot stood staring at him for a long moment, then sadly moved to the door of the crypt. At the last moment she turned back.

"I thought you loved me, Spike."

"Well you thought wrong, pet."

He slammed the door in her face.

* * * * *

Giles peeked cautiously into the training room. He didn't want to disturb Buffy if she was in the middle of some of her more acrobatic moves. When he saw she was sitting on the couch with Counselor Troi, he smiled and entered the room.

"Hello, Buffy, Deanna."

Buffy was on her feet and fussing immediately.

"There you are! Do you have any idea how worried I was? You owe me more jelly donuts than you can possibly have brought."

"Then it's a good thing I brought you this," he said handing her the coffee.

She opened the lid and inhaled deeply.

"Mmmmm, mocha. Okay, you're forgiven, but there'd still better be jelly donuts in this for me."

"Plenty. Just be sure and save me at least one."

"You don't deserve it, but I will. So what's up with the tardiness? You didn't stay up reading all night, did you?"

Troi joined them and took a chocolate glazed pastry from the box. She was amused that the other two seemed to have forgotten she was there at all.

"No, I did not stay up all night reading," Giles evaded.

Buffy's eyes narrowed.

"But I'm betting you stayed up late."

"Jean-Luc is a fascinating man."

"I told you not to ask about the future! Giles, that always leads to trouble."

"I didn't ask about the future, very much. And he didn't answer as much as I asked."

"Then what? What did you guys sit up into the wee hours talking about that was so fascinating?"

"If you must know, we discussed Shakespeare and archeology. Satisfied?"

"No. Giles, I told you I need you rested. I need you to be really here for me."

"And I will be, Buffy. I just... it felt good last night to talk to someone who shared my interests for a change."

As soon as he saw Buffy's wounded expression, he wished the words unsaid.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I didn't mean it like that..."

"It's okay, Giles," she assured him in clipped tones. "I know I'm not as smart as Captain Picard. It must be hard for you, having to spend all your time with an airhead like me."

"You're hardly an airhead."

"But I'm not exactly profound girl, either. It's okay."

She put down her coffee and donut.

"Guess I'd better get back to training. I need to be up to full strength if I'm going to face Glory anytime soon, and I'm betting she's gonna come after us pretty quickly."

"Buffy..."

"No, it's okay, Giles. I have work to do. And don't you have a shop to run?"

She turned without giving him a chance to reply and turned on the techno music for her aerobics workout. Giles gave her one last frustrated look and left the room. Troi followed a moment later.

* * * * *

Left to her own devices, the Buffybot was unsure what to do. Her program told her to return to Spike, but he had thrown her out. Her next impulse would have been to go to the friends she'd been programmed to know, but Willow planned to kill her. She felt pretty sure that going to any of the Scoobies would mean her demise, and that was something she didn't want at all.

She sat down on a gravestone to think. Thinking was not something she was in the habit of doing if it could be avoided, but she had no choice. She had to figure out what her next move would be.

There had to be someone who wanted her. She was programmed to love. If Spike didn't love her, what was the point of her existence?

Should she find someone else to love?

Was it possible she could?

And even if she could, where would she find him?

The bot sighed.

Thinking was very much more difficult than it looked.

* * * * *

By the time Giles returned to the front of the shop, the situation between Anya and Beverly had deteriorated to the point that Worf was physically restraining the former demon while Captain Picard tried to hold the doctor back.

"Let me at her, Jean-Luc!"

"Doctor!" the captain admonished her. "Surely we can resolve this without resorting to physical violence."

"Wanna bet?" Anya hissed, which was all the more impressive a feat since there wasn't a single s in her words.

She further emphasized her words by biting Worf's hand.

"That was most painful!"

"What the hell is going on here?" Giles demanded.

At his commanding tone and blazing eyes, the combatants stopped in their tracks.

"She started it," Anya accused sullenly.

"I did not," Beverly returned with a flash of anger.

"Yes you did. You had that stupid kid and he broke things, so it's all your fault!"

Again, Captain Picard had to restrain his chief medical officer.

"Anya," Giles told her sharply, "these people are our guests. Treat them with respect or take the rest of the day off. Without pay."

Anya swallowed hard.

"You wouldn't."

"Keep arguing and I'll take the breakages out of your pay as well."

The former demon glared at her boss but returned to her work without another word. A moment later, Captain Picard looked pointedly at Beverly. She nodded to indicate she would behave herself and he released her.

"Perhaps it's too distracting having all of us here while you try to work," Captain Picard offered. "I'll take my people somewhere else, Giles."

"That might be for the best," Giles agreed mildly.

"Buffy gave me a key to her house, in case we needed it," Troi offered.

"Fine," Riker agreed. "That's where we'll go. Plenty of room for us there."

"Lead on, Number One," Picard ordered. "If you'll excuse us, Giles."

"Of course."

Moments after the entire bridge crew of the Enterprise filed out the door, Willow and Tara came rushing in breathlessly.

"Is it here?" Willow asked.

"Is what here?" Anya asked. "What are you looking for?"

"The Buffybot," Tara explained. "It's missing."

* * * * *

"So it's him," Glory purred. "Right under our noses. I like the detail work those monks did. Quirks, foibles, passions... it's all so cute, so... human. You know?"

The minions standing before her all smiled and nodded at the magnificent Glorificus' wisdom. None, however, dared to comment on it. The Goddess' temper had been foul that day.

"Pretty convincing really," she mused. "But not convincing enough. Just not enough clue to go around."

She stood and eyeballed each minion in turn.

"You all know your assignments. I think it's time to collect the key."

None dared contradict her splediferousness. They scuttled out in her exceptional wake.

They headed for the video arcade.

* * * * *

"So, Wesley, think you'll be okay for five minutes while I get us some Earth delicacies called hot dogs on a stick?"

"Yeah," Welsey assured Xander tersely. "I'm gonna get the high score here."

Xander looked at the game Wesley was playing.

"Yeah, I bet you will," he agreed. "Not much competition on that for Happy Caterpillar's Magical Journey."

Xander headed out.

"Oh yeah," he said to himself. "High score to Xander Harris!"

* * * * *

"Impressions?" Captain Picard began the meeting around the Summers dining room table.

"If Q is looking for people who won't admit their feelings, I think I know who he's talking about," Troi offered. "I believe he means Buffy and Giles."

"What makes you say that?" Dr. Crusher asked.

"Whenever they're together it's as if they're in their own little world. I watched them today. They finish one another's sentences, they communicate without words - I would almost say telepathically if I didn't know better."

Picard nodded.

"Giles was very particular about getting enough jelly donuts for her this morning. He even asked what flavors they had so he could get her favorites. He didn't pay nearly so much attention to the rest of the donuts."

"But does he not enjoy jelly donuts, as well?" Data asked. "Perhaps he wanted to get his favorites."

"He bought one single raspberry one for himself and had it put in a separate container, then asked for six cherry ones because Buffy prefers that flavor," The captain said. "It seems she doesn't like raspberry, and while it's Giles' favorite, he doesn't want her to have to double check when she chooses a donut."

"Only a man in love would be that picky," Geordie agreed.

"She is a great warrior," Worf added. "A man would have to do much to be worthy of her love... or that of Anya."

The others stared at the Klingon.

"Anya?" Geordie asked. "Did I miss something?"

Worf smiled.

"Anya bit me. Among Klingon females, that is a sign that courtship is desired."

"I hate to bring this up," Riker ventured, "but Anya isn't Klingon. It may not mean the same thing to her that it does to you."

"Perhaps we might return to the subject at hand," Picard suggested. "Do we really have any reason to think Buffy and Giles might be the people Q was talking about aside from jelly donuts and a good working relationship? From what I've seen, either might or might not be in love with anyone in the group."

"I'm not sure either of them is aware of it," Troi said, "but I don't think I've ever seen two people so in love in my life."

"Even if they are, what does it matter?" Beverly asked. "How is it going to help them defeat a God?"

Somehow, nobody had an answer to that question.

* * * * *

Wesley furrowed his brow in concentration. If he could just keep the Playful Pixies at bay, Happy Caterpillar would soon be in position to eat the Mystical Muffin and win him five hundred points.

He never noticed the gorgeous blonde with the psychotic smile coming up behind him.

"Hey," she said. "Can two play this game?"

"I think it only works with one player," Wesley shrugged, "but you could play next, if you want."

"Oh I think you're done," Glory purred as she grabbed Wesley by the arms in a surprisingly strong grip.

The Hellgod spun the boy around and pinned him against the arcade game. Behind him he could hear the music of doom indicating that Happy Caterpillar had been run over by the Tactless Tractor.

"See?" Glory smirked. "You're dead. Now, why don't you and me have a little chat?"

"A - about what? Have we met?" Wesley stammered.

"Well, it's been a pretty long while, but yeah," Glory told him, gripping his arms tighter. "And you were better looking then. But, hey! You're still what I need."

"Huh?" He tried to work himself free of her grip. "I think I should probably go..."

Glory gripped Wesley's face in one hand suddenly. She locked eyes with him.

"Pay attention when I'm talking to you!" she snapped. "And don't think anyone's gonna help you, little boy, 'cause I could kill everybody in this place before anyone could make it over here. Funny, isn't it? All these people here and no one can do a thing. Not one of them can help you. Then, that's people for you. Pretty worthless. But keys, on the other hand... keys are worth a very lot."

"K - keys...?"

Glory drew one perfectly manicured fingernail down Wesley's cheek. A thin trail of blood dribbled from the shallow cut. The Hellgod leaned closer and delicately licked a droplet from the boy's cheek. She leaned back to savor the taste.

A second later, she spat it out.

"You stinking liar," she hissed as she grabbed his hair in her fist. "You're not the key. You're just another worthless human being!"

"I don't remember lying to you."

"And in a minute, you won't remember anything at all."

Wesley stood, transfixed, as Glory stroked her fingers down his cheeks, then up. Suddenly she seemed to insert her fingers into his temples. Both screamed as a bright ball of light shot forth from Wesley's brain and travelled down Glory's arms, up to her head and was sucked in.

All at once, the screaming stopped.

Glory turned to leave as Wesley slumped next to the forgotten game.

* * * * *

Buffy glared daggers at her best friend.

"I told you not to fix that damn thing, Will. Giles told you not to. We all did. What part of 'dump that hunk of junk on the scrapheap' did you not understand?"

"I was trying to help," Willow began. "Honest..."

"Oh, I so do not want to hear this," Buffy fumed. "You had no right..."

"So if you don't like something nobody gets to do it? Is that it?" Willow returned angrily.

"Both of you, stop it," Giles ordered. "Now, as wrong as it was of Willow to fix the robot when we'd all agreed it was best not to, that's beside the point at present. We need to find it, and find it fast."

Buffy sighed.

"You're right. Yelling can wait. Having a super strong robot running around with nobody at the controls is not a good thing. I think we need as many people as we can get on this one." She turned to Giles. "Think Captain Picard would help on this?"

"I imagine his crew would welcome the opportunity to do something useful," Giles mused.

"Okay," Buffy said, "we'll get them started and then check out the graveyards. She's probably looking for Spike. Will, Tara, take the mall. If Spike programmed her to be anything like me, she might head there."

As they headed out the door, Giles turned back.

"Watch the store, Anya, until we get back. And if the robot shows up here... send her in the back to train until we return."

"Good luck," Anya called after them. "You're gonna need it."

* * * * *

Xander returned to the arcade, hot dog goodness in hand.

"Okay, Wes," he said as he approached the game, "you're gonna love this. Hey, look at that; you got the high score! Good for you! So, we take hot dogs, which are made from all the parts of the cow you don't want to eat, dip them in batter made from corn deemed unfit for consumption by pigs and a whole bunch of preservatives, and deep fry until soggy and greasy. Earth cuisine holds few greater delicacies."

He handed the corndog to his companion. Wesley stared at it for a long time. Xander soon finished his. He realized that Wesley had yet to take a single bite.

"Gonna eat that?" Xander asked at last. "'Cause if you're not going to, I might be able to force another down me."

"Force. Forcefield. Forcefield all gone," Wesley mourned, shaking his head.

"Right..." Xander agreed with a wary look. "I think someone had too much excitement with Happy Caterpillar, don't you? C'mon, kid. Let's go."

Xander started off toward the Magic Box. A moment later, he turned back and took Wesley by the arm.

"This way, pal," he said. "What happened? Did the game blow a fuse on you?"

Wesley just giggled.

* * * * *

As predicted, the Enterprise crew was eager to help search for the missing Buffybot. Worf and Geordie were left behind at the Summers house in case the bot went there, and because they were the two crewmembers most likely to stand out as unusual in Sunnydale. Captain Picard and Dr. Crusher went to check the warehouse district, Riker and Troi were assigned the park and the business district by the Magic Box, and Data divided the cemeteries with Buffy and Giles.

As they all went off on their assignments, Buffy gave Giles a bemused smile.

"What is it, Buffy?" Giles asked.

"Nothing. It's just kind of funny."

The pair walked in silence for a few paces.

"What's funny?" Giles asked at last.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just wondering how much searching will really get done the way the troops are divided, that's all."

"And as is so often the case, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh come on, Giles!" Buffy exclaimed in disgust. "We sent two hyper-couply couples off to couply places on their own. I just think the smooch factor may end up getting in the way of actual searching."

"What makes you think they're 'couply', as you put it?"

"Please! Deanna already as good as told me she wanted Riker back, and it's so obvious that the captain and the doctor want to play doctor together. They just need to get past that whole office romance thing."

"Buffy, please try to concentrate on the task at hand," Giles chided.

Buffy shrugged.

"You asked, Giles. I just answered."

The pair searched Restfield Cemetary in silence for a few moments. Giles was less than surprised when Buffy broke said silence.

"It's not like these guys have had the sort of bad luck with co-worker cuddles as I have. I mean, Deanna and Will are still friends, and Beverly used to be married to a Starfleet guy... until he died. But until then, it was great. At least that's what Deanna told me. Neither one of them had someone turn evil because they... or got deserted for vamp ho's."

"Your point being...?"

"That it's okay for them. I wonder why it's not for me."

"Ah," Giles said. "Buffy, you're a... a fine girl. I have no doubt that eventually you'll find someone to love, who will love you in return."

Buffy moved a bit faster. Giles took her by the arm to halt her progress.

"What is it now?"

"Giles, I'm the Slayer. Chances are I don't have an eventually. What if Mr. Right doesn't find me in time? What if I don't recognize him when he gets here? What if he's in Istanbul or something? It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"Buffy," Giles said softly, "if it's meant to be, it will be. I feel very sure there's someone out there for you."

"How old are you?" she asked him suddenly.

"Wh - I beg your pardon?"

"It's a simple question, Giles. How old are you?"

"Forty-seven, if you must know."

"Really? That old?" She looked oddly at him. "I would have said maybe forty-two, forty-three at the outside. Anyway, so, forty-seven. You're forty-seven years old."

"A fact of which I'm already painfully aware," he agreed. "What does it matter?"

Buffy stopped and sat on a gravemarker with a serious expression.

"It doesn't, really, except..."

"Except?"

She shrugged and cocked her head at him.

"Where's Miss Right, Giles? If I deserve someone, you deserve someone, too. Way more than I do, in fact. So where is she?"

Giles shoved his hands in his pockets and studied the ground.

"Alright, I don't know," he said grumpily. "But even if there isn't anyone for me, that doesn't mean you'll end up alone. The spirit guide told you that you're full of love. Where is the point in that if you've no one to share it with?"

"She also said death was my gift. Does that mean I'm supposed to be glad my mom died? Or just that I'm really talented at it. I mean, I kill a lot of vamps and demons, so I must be good at it. I'd just like... to know I'm good at something else."

"Don't be ridiculous, Buffy."

"Who's being ridiculous? I suck at everything but poking wood into the undead. I dropped out of college, I can't keep a boyfriend, I can't keep Dawn from cutting class. Hell, my best friends couldn't tell me apart from a robot! Face it, Giles, I'm the ugly wart on the big toe of the world."

Giles sat next to her and spoke quietly, but with intensity.

"Listen to me, Buffy. You are not a wart of any kind. Yes, you dropped out of school, but it was in order to care for your sister, not because you were incapable of doing the work. You'll go back when time and money permit. As for Dawn, she's very troubled right now. Taking care of her is a far bigger responsibility than should ever have been forced on you. But you have me and Willow and Xander and Tara, even Anya. We'll help you as best we can. As for boyfriends... Buffy, you're only twenty. It would be far more surprising if you'd already settled down with one man for all time. At your age, you're supposed to make a few romantic mistakes. And if your friends can't tell you from a robot... I think that's as much a wake up call for them as it is for you."

Buffy sighed and leaned against Giles' shoulder.

"What would I do without you?" she asked.

"I've not the slightest idea," he returned dryly.

"You are such a pain," Buffy giggled.

With that, she stood and gestured to Giles to follow her.

"Come on, Watcher mine. We have a bot to find."

Giles smiled slightly as he rose and fell into step beside her.

* * * * *

"Tell me again why we're here, Jean-Luc," Dr. Crusher said.

"To look for a robot Buffy, Beverly."

"I know that, but why here? Why would it come to a bunch of empty warehouses?"

"It's entirely possible that it didn't come here. Still, if it's trying to hide, this would seem a likely sort of place. It was programmed by a vampire, and apparently vampires like empty warehouses."

The pair searched in silence for a while, but found no sign of the Buffybot. They moved to another building.

"Well," Captain Picard mused as he took in the charred remains of the building, "I don't believe this was a warehouse to begin with. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, it looks like a factory of some sort. I wonder what was made here."

"A mess," Beverly answered. She poked around some of the debris on the floor. "We'd better move on. I don't think anything is hiding here."

"No, wait," Picard said. "What's that over there?"

He pointed at a wooden object in the middle of the floor. He and Beverly both moved to inspect it.

"If I'm not mistaken, it's an ancient basball bat," Beverly said.

"Baseball bat?"

"A game that used to be played on Earth. Jack told me all about it years ago. People hit balls with these bats and ran around some... bases, I think he called them. Nobody's played it in decades at least; maybe a century."

"Well what's it doing here? Was it played in buildings like this?"

"I don't think so. It's hard to remember the details, though."

"Because it's been a long time?"

"Because I was mainly pretending to pay attention while I just enjoyed the sound of Jack's voice," Beverly admitted with a rueful smile. She noticed something in another part of the room. "Look at this, Jean-Luc."

They approached the object and stared curiously at it.

"Now what is a china doll doing here?" Captain Picard wondered. "Surely these two things would have been made in different factories."

"Could they have been left by children?"

"I suppose they might," Picard conceeded. "But I have the feeling there's more to the story than that. Let's see what else we can find."

"What about the robot?"

Picard shrugged.

"It may be in one of the other rooms. Come on, let's see what we can find."

Beverly smiled indulgently and shook her head.

"You'll never get your head out of the past will you, Jean-Luc?"

"On the contrary, Beverly. My head, as you put it, is in the past, the present and the future."

"Doesn't it ever get crowded in there?"

"Oh, all the time."

"What you need is someone to help you keep it all organized."

"To distract me, you mean," he grinned back at her. "Let's see what's behind that door."

He opened the door cautiously and walked slowly through. Beverly followed silently.

"Extraordinary," Picard breathed.

Inside the room there was a fourposter bed with singed draperies hung around it. On the charred chest against one wall sat two rows of china dolls, also badly damaged from the fire that had raged through the building. A variety of manacles and torture devices were scattered around the room as well.

"What the..." Beverly began. "Jean-Luc, this makes no sense. Who would live in a place like this?"

"Who... or what," Picard said. "At any rate, there's no sign of the robot."

"I say we move on."

Picard nodded.

"Agreed. Let's see what's in the next building."

As they moved to leave, Beverly tripped over a piece of debris on the floor. Picard reached out an arm to steady her. She ended facing him with her hands against his chest to steady herself. Their eyes met, their lips bare milimeteres apart. For a long moment they stared at one another, barely daring to breathe. At last, Beverly tilted her head slightly and pressed her lips to Picard's.

* * * * *

"I thought everybody agreed last night not to repair the robot," Deanna mused as they strolled into Weatherly Park.

"Correction, Imzadi, everybody agreed except Willow. And she's the resident mechanical genius."

Troi shook her head.

"She means well, I can tell, but she's so headstrong. So unsure of herself she needs to act as though she's more certain of herself than anyone."

"Have you psychoanalyzed them all?" Riker grinned.

"On a fairly superficial level," she admitted with a smile.

"Do you ever leave your work behind, Deanna?"

"Will, this is just another away mission. We have to work with these people."

"Just another away mission? I don't recall Starfleet giving us any orders to be here."

"No, they didn't. And I'll admit, taking missions from Q is not my first choice, but we don't really have much to say in the matter."

Riker gave the roudabout a vicious twirl in frustration. Troi moved to his side and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Will," she said soothingly, "we'll get back where we belong."

"As soon as Q decides we've done his dirty work for him."

"He's sent us to worse places before. More dangerous ones."

"If this place isn't dangerous, what was the thing that attacked Wesley? What are these people fighting?"

Troi sighed and sat on the roundabout as it finished turning.

"I know there's danger here. And I know it's something big. All I meant was it looks as though, on a day to day basis, we don't have that much to worry about. We can concentrate on preparing for the battle to come. You know as well as I do that safe is a relative term, Will."

"Doesn't it bother you just a little bit, Deanna? Don't you want to... punch Q in the nose as much as I do?"

"Of course it bothers me. Being around these people... they talk a great deal, but so little gets said. They trust one another with their lives, but not their secrets. The repression is almost overwhelming sometimes. I think I helped Buffy a bit earlier, but I don't know how long it will last. I don't think I've ever known anyone so frightened in my life."

Will sat next to Deanna. He furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Frightened? Buffy? My guess would have been angry."

Troi shook her head.

"The anger is there, certainly, but it's a mask. She's terribly afraid to trust anyone; to open her heart. I don't know who hurt her so badly, but she's convinced that if she lets someone in, it will lead to disaster for everyone."

"I thought you couldn't read minds, Imzadi."

"I can't. She told me. Oh, not in so many words, but as a trained counsellor and as an empath, I can read between the lines. And Giles is just as bad in his own way. He just covers it with a different mask. It makes sense, really. She uses the anger, he hides behind his books and his sarcasm, but the end result is the same. Nobody gets in, nobody gets hurt... except they still do."

"And the others? What do they hide behind? What about Anya?"

"I find Anya very restful to be around," Troi said.

"Restful? Anya? I'm afraid you lost me there."

"She has no pretensions, no defense mechanisms. Nothing is held back. Whatever is on her mind, she says it without fear or favor. Compared to the others, I find that refreshing."

Riker laughed and rose to his feet.

"Come on, Counsellor. We have a robot to find."

He held out a gallant hand to Deanna. She took it, smiling at him.

"And wasn't there a disaster to avert as well?"

"That, too," he agreed. "Unless..."

"Unless what?" she asked as her eyes narrowed warily.

"I don't think we'll find the robot in the park, or near the magic shop. What say we do something twentieth century while we're here?"

"This isn't the twentieth century, it's the twenty-first."

"But if I recall my Earth history, there are still movie theaters. We could go to one of them."

"We haven't any money to get in."

"Then we'll sneak around the back. Come on, Deanna. Let's let our hair down a little. Like we used to."

Troi looked at their joined hands. She tried to ignore the tingle she felt when his thumb caressed the back of her hand. When she looked in his eyes, she stopped fighting.

"All right, Will."

* * * * *

The Buffybot sat slumped before a large headstone. Fat tears dripped down both cheeks. Willow wanted to kill her, Spike didn't want her at all, and she had nowhere left to go.

And she was still tense.

She swiped at her face with the back of her hand, despite the fact it couldn't keep up with the flow of tears.

What was left to her? Where could she go? What was she to do?

When would the tension stop?

At the sound of footsteps behind her, the bot leapt to her feet and took up battle stance. It might be daytime, but vampires weren't the only danger in Sunnydale.

It might be Willow.

It wasn't.

"Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you," the pale, yellow-eyed stranger said in an even tone.

"Wh - what are you?" the bot asked, raising her stake higher.

"I am Lieutenant Commander Data of the United Federation of Planets. Are you the robotic Slayer?"

"I'm Buffy. What are you?"

"I am an android."

"Is that a kind of vampire?" the bot asked uncertainly.

"No. I do not drink blood, human or otherwise. In fact, I am the same thing you are. I am an artificial life form. I have come to take you back to the Magic Box."

"No," the bot whimpered. "You can't take me back there. Willow and Tara want to kill me. I don't want them to kill me. I just want Spike to love me. I want him to make the tension go away."

Data considered the situation for a moment.

"If I promise not to allow them to deactivate you, will you come with me?" he asked.

"Will you take me to Spike?"

"Why are you not with him now? It is my understanding that he lives near here."

"He told me to go away," the bot managed through a fresh batch of tears. "He wouldn't make me feel better and he wouldn't save me from Willow."

"Then perhaps that is not the best thing to do. I will take you someplace where you will be safe."

"But what about the tension? It won't go away without Spike."

"What is it that Spike does to relieve your tension?"

"He has sex with me," the bot replied with the first smile Data had seen from her. "Then the tension goes away."

Data paused and ran through his subroutines for a moment.

"Is Spike the only one who can cure you? Would having sexual relations with someone else help you?"

"I - I don't know. I've never had sex with anyone else. Maybe."

"If you would be willing to perform an experiment, perhaps I could relieve your tension. I am fully functional and programmed in a wide variety of sexual techniques."

"Will you love me?"

"I am afraid I cannot do that. I am not programmed to have emotions."

The bot shrugged.

"My friends want me to die and Spike hates me now. I was programmed to love, but nobody loves me. At least you don't because you can't. If you can make the tension go away, I'll go with you."

Data held out his hand to the bot.

"I will take you someplace safe. Come with me."

The bot held his hand, but remained rooted to the spot.

"No. Make the tension go first, and then I'll go with you."

Data nodded.

"Would you like to go to a less exposed area?"

"No. Right here is fine."

The bot pushed Data to the ground and straddled his lap.

"Shall I engage my erotic programming now?" Data asked.

The Buffybot growled and kissed him.

Data activated his subroutine.

* * * * *

Giles drummed his fingers against the steering wheel of his car. He'd driven Buffy to the school so they could pick up Dawn and take her safely to the Magic Box. He wondered what on earth could be taking so long. His head filled with dire images of Glory appearing in a classroom, abducting Dawn from under their noses. Giles knew if that happened, Buffy would likely have a breakdown. She'd been through so much in the past few months, and been so brave - too brave, now he took the time to think of it.

Through Joyce's illness and death, Riley's betrayal and departure, the Council's review, her father's continued refusal to take part in her life, Dawn's understandable emotional fragility in the wake of the discovery of her supernatural origin, and the ongoing threat of fighting a Hellgod, Buffy had hardly even cried, let alone admitted any human weakness. As the months had passed, Giles began to expect the tightly coiled, carefully emotionless behavior and had ceased to worry much about it.

But watching the young boys and girls stream out of the school, laughing, joking, breaking up into small, tight knit groups and doting couples, he found himself remembering the early days with Buffy, Willow and Xander in the library. Had they all really been so innocent back then? Buffy's insistance on trying out for the cheerleading squad and her constant demands for nights off to go to parties, Willow's shy demeanor and amazing computer skills, Xander's hapless goofiness that hid the astonishing courage at his core; where had these things gone? Giles had to admit ruefully that he had changed a great deal as well, and not entirely for the better.

He'd lost much of his enthusiasm and optimism, even, perhaps, the remains of his innocence, battling the forces of darkness day after day, night after night. He could accept it for himself, even expected it was about time he grew up and faced reality. But for Buffy and her - no, their - young friends, it was wrong. To see them robbed of their youth so early in life was unacceptable. Perhaps he could do something to make their lives a bit less grim.

Yes, as soon as Glory was defeated he would do something for them all. Take them on a trip to someplace pleasant. Nothing extravagant, but he could take a pair of cabins in the woods or a condo by a beach for a few days and let them all blow off some steam, be young for a week or so. He felt sure he could bribe Spike to watch the hellmouth for a week with enough blood and cigarettes. And vampire activity was always down in the summer with the shorter nights.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of arguing teenagers.

"You are so grounded for the rest of your life!"

"Oh come on, Buffy! Like you never ditched a class."

The Slayer whirled around to face her sister.

"There's a difference, Dawn. When I cut class it was to save the world. When you cut, it's because you don't feel like being there. Get in the car. We're taking you to the Magic Box and then Giles and I have to go look for the bot some more."

Dawn slid into the back seat and folded her arms across her chest sullenly. Buffy took her post next to Giles and blew out a breath in frustration.

"Not one word, Giles," she snapped before he could draw breath to speak.

Giles knew better than to argue when Buffy used that tone. Dawn, however, had not learned that lesson yet.

"I don't know why I have to go to school, anyway," she grumbled as Giles pulled out of the parking lot. "Keys don't need an education. Energy doesn't need to know algebra."

"Dawn," Buffy growled, "if you say one more word, you'll be grounded for your next three lives."

Dawn flopped back into the upholstery. She muttered something under her breath. Giles decided he'd better intervene before bloodshed could ensue.

"Would either of you like something to eat?" he asked. Food was usually a good distraction for both girls.

"What I'd like," Buffy snapped, "is for someone to pay a little bit of attention to what she's supposed to be doing. When I got to the school, the principal wanted to have a word with me. It turns out Dawn doesn't think she needs to be in class. In fact, Dawn is so sure of this that she's in danger of flunking most of her classes. Giles, she's flunking art. How do you flunk art? All you have to do is show up and doodle - emphasis on that showing up part."

"I'm right here," Dawn huffed. "You don't need to talk like I'm not here."

"Well you won't be for long if you don't go to class."

"What? I'm gonna just disappear like I appeared if I don't pull straight A's?"

Buffy half turned in her seat to impress the importance of her words on her sister.

"If you flunk your classes and keep on ditching school, Child Protective Services will decide I'm unfit to be your legal guardian and take you away where I can't protect you."

Dawn paled.

"Where would they take me?"

"I don't know. Maybe Dad? Maybe a foster home. The point is, wherever you go, you'd be in danger and I wouldn't be able to protect you - or whoever you're with. Just... work with me here, would you?"

"You never said that could happen before."

"Well, I'm saying now."

"Can they do that? Really?"

"They can and they will if you don't straighten up."

"Well that doesn't sound very fun," said Q as he appeared in the back seat next to Dawn.

"Shit!" Giles exclaimed as he swerved in surprise.

"Giles!" Buffy yelped. "Eyes on the road! And who the hell is that in the back?"

"Giles!" Dawn squeaked. "I can't believe you said that in front of me!"

"Giles!" Q mocked. "Nobody ever wants to admit they know me. I thought you'd be different, but no. You're just as bad as Jean-Luc."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Giles growled.

"Checking on your progress," Q said affably. "You never said you spend your days surrounded by beautiful women. Aren't you going to introduce me?"

"Beautiful?" Dawn piped up.

"Ravishing, my dear," Q assured her.

"Hands off my sister," Buffy warned the entity. "She's fourteen years old, and not up for grabs."

"Feisty!" Q said as he looked the Slayer over. "I like her, Giles. She's a little skinny, and her nose is a funny shape, but she's got moxie."

"Was there something you wanted, Q?" Giles asked with no little asperity.

"What's wrong with my nose?" Buffy obsessed.

"I'm here to tell you the clock is ticking. You don't have much time left to figure it out. I'm disappointed in you, Giles. Jean-Luc is moving faster than you. I really thought you'd get it first."

"Get what?" Giles demanded. "If you've something to say, just say it. What is it you want of me?"

Q shook his head.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You don't get it yet, do you? This has nothing to do with what I want and everything to do with what you want."

"Huh?" Buffy asked.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Giles asked.

But Q was already gone.

* * * * *

Picard pulled back at long last.

"Beverly... what are we doing?"

"I didn't think it had been that long, Jean-Luc. It's called kissing."

"I know perfectly well what it's called," Picard huffed.

"And you do it pretty well, too."

"Thank you... so do you. But it's hardly appropriate. I'm your commanding officer."

"Even commanding officers are allowed to be happy, Jean-Luc. Even with their own Chief Medical Officers."

Picard slid his hands up to disengage Beverly's from behind his neck. Still, he kept ahold of them, bringing one to his lips for a soft kiss.

"I just think we need to consider this a bit. It isn't only Starfleet I'm concerned about. There's Wesley. And what happens if one of us gets transfered to another assignment? Starfleet is no great respecter of romance."

"Wesley adores you. Since we've been on the Enterprise, he's come to think of you as the father he never had. And if Starfleet sends us to opposite ends of the galaxy, there's always shoreleave. Or you could take early retirement."

"Retirement?" Picard exclaimed, aghast. "What would I do with myself then?"

Beverly took advantage of his momentary distraction to slip her arms around his waist and lay her head on his shoulder.

"You could do whatever you like. Go on archeological digs and unearth treasures, write a book about your travels... prove to me that even if you're retired from Starfleet, you're still ready for adventure of the right kind. Whatever you like, as long as you're happy and I get to share some of it."

Picard took a deep breath, but did nothing to move Beverly.

"Dr. Crusher," he said with a smile, "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Am I succeeding?"

"You might be."

He moved slightly, keeping his arms around her.

This time he initiated the kiss.

* * * * *

Xander grabbed Wesley by the arm and steered him out of the street before he could be hit by a Buick.

"Jeez, can you try a little harder to get yourself killed, Spaceboy? That's the third time I've had to remind you that those metal things people ride in hurt a whole lot when they slam into you."

Wesley giggled.

"Pull the rotary harder," he informed his companion.

"Riiight. No more video games for you, Buddy. I'm cutting you off."

"Video games!" Wesley shouted excitedly. "Video games!"

"Later, maybe, when you stop acting funny."

He tried to pull Wesley in the direction of the Magic Box, but the boy resisted.

"Come on, Punk Rogers. Time to see your mom and let her deal with you for awhile."

"What seems to be the trouble?"

Xander looked up, startled. He relaxed a little when he realized it was Riker with Troi on his arm.

"Boy am I glad to see you guys," Xander greeted them."Maybe you can tell me if this is normal behavior for Wesley here."

"What's he doing?" Riker asked.

"He keeps getting into dangerous stuff and talking about things I can't understand. And it's like he doesn't listen to a word I say."

Riker and Troi shared a bemused smile.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Xander," Riker said. "That's just life with Wesley."

"So you're sure there's nothing wrong?"

Troi looked carefully at Wesley. At last she gave her verdict.

"I sense nothing out of the ordinary."

"You're sure about that?" Xander fussed.

"Positive," Riker assured him.

"Okay. 'Cause I was getting worried there for a minute. Not that I was panicking or anything, but, y'know... oh, and Will, if I could have a little word with you. Man to, y'know, man?"

"Of course."

Riker allowed himself to be maneuvered to one side. Xander whispered in his ear.

"I don't think Deanna's lipstick is really your shade, if you know what I mean." He pointed to the smudge on Riker's cheek and another on his lips before returning to his charge.

"Oh yeah," he muttered. "Whole lot of loving going on! Come on, Wes. Let's see if Anya's in a better mood yet."

He hauled Wesley away from his intense inspection of a garbage can and down the street to the Magic Box.

* * * * *

Data led the Buffybot into the house on Revello Drive. She insisted on continuing to hold his hand, and occasionally brushing imaginary lint off his clothes in a gesture of intimacy. Her smile was broad, her eyes were luminous, and she was very, very relaxed.

When she recognized the house, the bot stopped in her tracks with a worried look.

"This is where Buffy lives," she protested.

"You will be safe here," Data assured her.

"But she wants to kill me. I won't be safe here. You promised you'd take me somewhere safe."

"Buffy is not here at present, but two of my collegues are. They will help me protect you until we can convince Willow that you should not be deactivated. There is nothing to fear."

The bot searched Data's face for signs of treachery. After a minute of serious concentration, she smiled again."

"I'm not afraid. You'll make sure the others don't kill me. And maybe we can have sex again."

"If you would like, then we certainly can," Data replied dispassionately.

He led her into the living room where Geordie and Worf sat on the sofa, channel surfing. Geordie looked up when Data entered the room, but Worf became engrossed in a commercial about hair care products.

"That woman seems most... excited by the shampoo she is using," the Klingon observed.

"Data! Buffy," Geordie greeted them. "Any luck finding the robot?"

"Yes, Geordie. I have found her. I have offered her sanctuary."

Geordie looked at the bot and swallowed hard. The bot smiled brightly and waved.

"Hi. Data said you would save me from Willow. I like Data. He's even better at sex than Spike."

"Oh boy," breathed Geordie. "I think we have a problem."

* * * * *

Once Dawn was safely settled at the Magic Box, Buffy and Giles went out to continue their search. As they strolled through Pinecrest Cemetery, Buffy frowned and was unusually quiet. After some ten minutes without a word from his chatterbox Slayer, Giles decided it was time to speak.

"Buffy?"

"Hmm?"

The girl looked up, startled.

"Where are you, Buffy?"

She gave a self deprecating laugh and ducked her head.

"Sorry, Giles. I was just thinking."

"Deep thoughts?"

"Sorta. I was trying to figure out what that Q guy meant earlier. About what you want."

Giles stuffed his hands in his pockets and quirked an embarrassed smile.

"I don't suppose he meant anything by it."

"You sure about that? 'Cause he made it sound like that's the whole big enchilada when it comes to stopping Glory."

"He's fond of speaking in riddles that don't seem to have answers of any consequence."

Buffy nodded silently. The pair continued their search, but Buffy seemed distracted. At last she came to a halt and addressed Giles again.

"So what do you want?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"What do you want, Giles? You must want something."

"I'm not entirely certain I understand your question."

"Come on, Giles. You speak ancient Sumerian. You speak German and Latin and Gaelic. Considering you come from England, English shouldn't be much of a stretch. What do you want?"

"In terms of...?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and blew out a frustrated breath.

"How should I know? You never say."

"When was the last time you asked?"

Buffy glared at Giles.

"Would you have answered if I did? If this is anything to go by, I'm guessing the answer is no."

"It does help if you're specific in your question," he pointed out mildly.

"There was a time when I didn't have to ask; when you'd just... say stuff to me. Stuff about you. I - I sorta miss it."

"You do?" Giles asked in genuine surprise.

"Well, yeah. It made me feel like we were really friends. Special friends, 'cause I know you never told that stuff to Willow or Xander. It was just for me. It made me feel like... like we were... I dunno, like we belonged to each other. I'm not saying any of this right."

She ducked her head. Giles reached out a hand and lifted her chin. He was surprised to see tears glistening in her eyes.

"Buffy... you're... why are you crying?"

"Because I think I lost you."

"No you haven't. I'm right here. I will always be here for you."

"But... it's not like it was before. Before Angel and that stupid test and The Initiative and all the other crap I put you through."

Giles smiled slightly in a pained manner.

"As I recall, I was the one who put you through 'that stupid test'."

Buffy shrugged.

"You wouldn't have had to if I wasn't the Slayer. Anyway, most of the stuff that happened is my fault. I didn't lose you. I pushed you away, didn't I?"

Giles guided Buffy to a large headstone and sat them both down.

"You haven't lost me, Buffy. And you won't. Over time... relationships change. People change. There are things I miss about that time, as well, but we can't go back. We can only move on."

Right. Move on. Giles, too many people in my life have moved on lately. I don't have many left."

"I didn't mean it that way," Giles assured the girl as he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What I meant was... our history will always be a part of us and any relationship we have. That past includes evasiveness, dishonesty, both deliberate and accidental cruelty, betrayal - on both sides. We can't change that, no matter how much... well, it'll always be there. But that doesn't mean we can't learn from our past mistakes and build something better."

"If it's that crappy, why would you want to?"

"Because that hasn't been the entire story. Yes, there have been mistakes on both sides. Large ones; some pretty disastrous ones, in fact. But there has also been great loyalty, sacrifice, kindness at unexpected moments,