Chapter Three

"Yeah, Ahn," Buffy's voice drifted back down the stairs.

"Nothing, kiddo," Anya called back absentmindedly.

[Flashback]

"Angel," Buffy called, feeling exposed and vulnerable. She'd woken up in his bed alone. She was sore. Not the good sore she'd heard about, that could only be described in one way - losing your virginity. She looked around at the dark room, light peaking in from behind the curtains. She held the dark satin sheet to her chest, slipping out of bed and looking for her clothes. She slipped out the window onto the roof and climbed
down the tree that stood next to the house.

She used the reverse method to get into her house. She went through the day, but Angel wasn't at school. She went to his house after school
and Giles let her up to his room. He wasn't there, but Giles told her he'd be home soon.

"Hey," she said as the door closed. Angel looked her up and down. He nodded, and she crossed to him, putting her arms around his neck. He looked at her and smiled weakly. She let go and took a step back, "What happened to you this morning?"

"What? "

"I mean I woke up and you were gone," she said, waiting for the response she wanted to hear.

"Well it wasn't really worth staying for another round, so I figured I'd let you clear out," he said, putting his hands behind his back.

"What," she whispered, not sure of what she was hearing, "Wasn't I good?"

"Oh. Not really. You have a lot to learn about men, kiddo," with that he sat on the bed, "You can let yourself out."

She walked out of the house, shocked. Giles stopped her and asked what was wrong.

"Conflict of interests," she mumbled and walked out. Giles looked towards his son's room.

[End Flashback]

"Buff, hurry up," Anya called up to the bathroom.

"Yeah," Buffy said, appearing at the top of the stairs. She was dressed in black slacks and a red cowl neck shirt. Her dull brown hair was twisted into a French twist. Besides the holocaust victim figure and the shabby hair, she looked like the Buffy they all loved, the Buffy from before.

"Wow. You're human." I wonder how Spike is taking his women these days. Cecily had had long, dark, curly hair. And she looked just like her mother Hallie. Anya shuddered.

"Cold, or do I look horrid?"

"Hah. Just thinking about something." Anya looked her over before offering her arm to link. Buffy warily thread her arm through Anya's, "We're... off to see the wizard. The wonderful Wizard of Oz."

Buffy laughed loudly as Anya tried to skip.

~*~*~*~*~

Meanwhile, across town, R. William Giles was checking into a motel of questionable reputation. He walked down the sidewalk with his key in hand, looking for 6e. He bumped in to someone coming out of 6d.

"Oi sorry, mate," he apologized before looking up. The young woman with dark hair, a bruise that covered the left side of her face and sunken eyes looked back at him like he had kicked her in the shin and stolen her wedding dress. He blinked before he placed her in his mind, "Faith? Faith, uh, Wilkins?"

"Who's asking, because if it was Carlos, you can tell him to kiss my..." she teetered, grabbing for air, and Will moved to steady her.

"Easy there. Y'okay, that's quite a bruise. Want me to take you 'ome?"

"How do you know where I live?" she asked, eyeing him warily.

"I knew you in 'igh school. Name's Will. Giles? R. William Giles? Quiet kid, sat in the front, teacher's pet, shaggy brown hair?"

"Uh," she looked confused, but kept a hold of his hand. She sat for a minute before realization hit, "Spike?"

"Yeah. I guess that's wha' they called me," he gave a nervous laugh and gestured to his car. She shook her head, "Well. I'm in the room next to yours, want to join me, I could clean up your face."

"Um." They both looked up as a crash was heard inside the room she had just come from, "Okay."

They went into his room and he took off his jacket, nodding at the bed.

"I'll run back out to the car and get my stuff, stay put, mkay?" On her nod, he left, only to quickly return a minute later with three bags and a small shopping bag with the letters M and S on it. He sat them on the bed, shuffled through the smallest bag and pulled out a small white box with a red cross on it. He knelt in front of her and opened the case. He took out a small pad and a bottle, unscrewing it and dipping the pad in it. He rubbed the pad gently across her cheek where it had been split open.

"So you want to tell me what happened," he said as he disinfected it, before gently blowing on the cut so it wouldn't sting.

"Nope. Thanks for cleaning me up, Spikey, but I need to get home, Dad gets all freaky when I don't get home after work."

"Look love, you're young, you're pretty, shouldn't you be able to do something that doesn't involve, from the sounds of the noises next door, a rather large person that mars your face with bruises? Living it up in daddy's mansion or something?"

"Look, Spikey. It's none of your business. Thanks for cleaning up my face, but unless you're looking to get laid, I have places to go and people to do," with that, the young woman got up and left, leaving a bewildered William behind.

He reached for his duster, pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and groaning upon finding it empty. He put it on the bed and waved his hand over it. He focused all his mind power on it and attempted to use the jedi-mind trick to lift or possibly refill the pack.

"Soddin' Silent Bob could do it," he muttered when it didn't work.

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