“Did you hear all that?  I mean it was a regular soap opera.” Andrew said excitedly.  “Um, not that I watch them.”

 

“You left the note, right?” Emma asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.  The current topic was one she didn’t want to think about, let alone discuss with this loony watcher guy.

 

“The note?” Andrew asked.  “Oh!  The ‘it’s-too-stressful-in-the-house-so-we’re-going-out-to-get-some-Hot Pockets’ note?”

 

“Yes,” Emma said.  “That note, but I think there was supposed to more than just Hot Pockets on it.”  Emma tried her best to organize her teeny car trunk for the grocery run. 

 

More hot sauce packets?  Like she needed those.  Not like she and Faith were going to be doing any late night Taco Bell runs anymore. 

 

“But did you hear?” Andrew stressed.

 

“I already told you I don’t eavesdrop… well, not usually.  Is that why Dawn's not coming?”

 

Andrew arched his eyebrow.  I believe she and the platinum blond vampyre might be spending some time together.  Kissing and making up… without the actual kissing.”  Andrew blushed.

 

Emma rolled her eyes.  “What about everyone else?” she asked.

 

“The Watcher, the Witch and the Carpenter, the Rogue Slayer, and, um, Buffy will be conducting the research.  They are trying to ascertain the exact location of the opening to the mouth of hell that is currently residing at the Stadium of the Tigers.”

 

“Why do you talk like that?” Emma asked as she got into the car.  “I mean, really.  Don’t you need to work to make it come out that way?”

 

“Whatever do you mean?” Andrew asked innocently as he got into the passenger’s side.  “Do we not all speak like this?”

 

Emma laughed.  “Um, no.  We don't ‘all speak like this.’”  She shook her head.  “Are you gay?” she asked as she backed out onto the street.  She didn’t need to look directly at Andrew to see him stiffen up.  “Don’t have to tell me.  I was just curious.”

 

“What makes you think I might be… that?” he asked nervously.

 

It was Emma’s turn to shrug.  “I don’t know.  The way you act.  The way you look.  Maybe it’s the way you talk.  I’ve heard about this gaydar thingie.  Either the one I have is broken or you're gay.  I can never tell.  People are just people.  Doesn’t really make any difference to me.”

 

Andrew spoke so softly, Emma had a hard time hearing him so she turned off the radio.  “What did you say?”

 

Avoiding her eyes, he said, “I don’t know.”

 

“That’s cool.  If you don’t know, that would be a good reason for me not to know either.”

 

“Once I thought I might be,” he said shrugging.  “But now I’m not sure.”

 

“What made you think you were?” Emma asked, turning out of the subdivision.

 

“Warren.”

 

“Who’s Warren?”

 

“A guy I used to know. He’s dead now.  Willow killed him, skinned him alive, so I’ve been told, when she was Dark Willow,” he said matter-of-factly.

 

Emma slammed on the brakes, not caring that the car behind her screeched its tires and honked its horn at her.  She couldn’t have heard Andrew right.  “What?”

 

“He’s dead now.”

 

“Not that!  Willow did what?”

 

“Skinned him alive.  In a tragic twist of fate, a stray bullet from Warren's gun killed the witch’s lesbian lover during his mad attempt to kill Buffy.  Willow went all crazy.  She’s better now.”

 

Emma was suddenly beginning to wonder why everyone thought she’d be safer living with these people!  She slowly eased her foot off the brake and starting driving again, oblivious to all the blaring horns and profanities that were aimed her way.

 

“They left that little tidbit out during our little talks,” Emma said.  “Wonder what else I don’t know that I probably should!”

 

“The Rogue Slayer killed people too and so did Spike, but a lot more.  They make a beautiful couple, don’t you think?”

 

“Just stop!  Enough past-flashing for one day.  Besides that stuff about Faith and Spike, I already knew.”

 

“Past-flashing?  And you say I talk funny,” Andrew said.

 

“It’s a Michigan thing,” Emma said, desperately needing to lighten up their conversation.

 

“Really?” Andrew asked, eyebrows raised in query.

 

“No, not really.”  Emma smiled.  “I made that up.”  She had known he would believe her.  He was predictable that way.

 

“Cruel. A cruel girl you are.  Where are we going, anyway?”

 

“Meijer.  One-stop shopping and they’re open twenty-four hours.  Perfect place to shop.”

 

“Well, hurry up.  I want my Hot Pockets.”

 

“Do you have the list we made?”

 

“Yes, right here,” Andrew said, reaching into his pocket.  He glanced at the piece of paper he had in his hand.  “Uh-oh.”

 

“Uh-oh?  Uh-oh isn’t good, Andrew.”  Emma pulled into the Meijer parking lot, grateful that the store itself was so close, and automatically parked in the furthest spot away from any of the other cars, all the way in the back.  The last row was hers.  Emma would never chance her car being the victim of a runaway shopping cart.

 

“Give me the list,” she said, tearing it from Andrew’s hand.  “To Whom It May Concern… the Virgin Slayer and I have gone on a ‘Hot Pocket Quest’.”  She turned to Andrew.  “Where’s the list?”

 

“On the counter where I was supposed to leave this,” Andrew said timidly.

 

“We are so going to get into trouble.  But we’re here now; let’s just get this over with.”

 

Neither of them noticed they were being followed.

 

XXXXX

 

There was only so much Faith could do to make herself scarce.  Her car was spotless.  She had spent most of the day making sure of that.  Nice sunny day.  Best time to clean the Viper.  Not that it was all that dirty, but it gave her something to do.  And there was something to be said for hanging outside when the person you were trying to avoid the most just happened to be a vampire.

 

Occasionally Faith would see him peek out one of the shaded windows, but she ignored him.  To think twenty-four hours ago she'd entertained the idea of cutting a pair of her jeans into daisy dukes and giving him a show while she did this.  Be a cold day in hell now.

 

Faith had heard something about Spike asking Dawn if she wanted to help him try to make a homemade blooming onion.  And Buffy was sticking pretty close to Dawn.  Cozy.

 

Whatever.

 

Faith wasn’t sure when Xander had wandered outside.  One minute she was alone, pawing through her glove box for a candy bar that she had shoved in there, and the next he was leaning against the newly bright and shiny fender.

 

“My money is on the pitcher’s mound,” Xander said casually.  “Mound of dirt smack dab in the middle of the stadium.  They can sacrifice their virgin and listen to the crowds roar all at the same time.”

 

“Crowd roaring because they’re sacrificing a virgin or because they can’t believe they’re actually seeing one being sacrificed?” She tore the wrapper and bit off a piece of chocolate.

 

Xander shrugged.  “Maybe a little bit of both.  God, am I hungry.”

 

“Where’d all the food get to?”  Faith had checked the kitchen out thoroughly before she started working on her car.  There wasn’t much to be found.

 

“Andrew probably hid it.”

 

“Will he ever get over it?”  Faith leaned on the car next to Xander.  “It was once.  Forever ago.”

 

“Is there another one of those in there?” he asked, pointing to the last bite of her candy bar.

 

Faith smiled.  “Nope.  Only one.”

 

“I thought a grocery run was in the works when I saw this list,"   said Xander, pulling the list out of his pocket and handed it to Faith, "but it was still sitting there, so I guess not."

 

“Pepperoni Pizza Hot Pockets, Breakfast Hot Pockets, Meatball and Cheese Hot Pockets… It goes on and on.”  Faith handed it back to Xander.  “I didn’t know they made that many different kinds.”

 

“Guess we don’t need to ask whose list it is.  Glad to see Andrew has his priorities in order.”

 

“Where is he anyway?  Haven’t heard him snivel in a while.”

 

“I’m not sure.  Thought it was your day to watch him,” Xander said jokingly.

 

“Watch whom?” Giles asked as he and Buffy joined them. 

 

So much for being alone.

 

“Who’s whom?”  Buffy asked, smiling.

 

“Andrew,” Xander said.

 

“He’s missing?” Giles asked.

 

“I wouldn’t say he’s missing, we just don’t know where he is,” Xander told him.

 

“There’s a difference?” Buffy muttered.

 

“Probably for the best, we need to decide what we’re going to do,” Giles said.

 

“Here we are,” Buffy said, “The planny people.”

 

“Faith and I were talking,” Xander said, “and I was telling her that I think the Seal is under the pitcher’s mound.”

 

“Actually, Xander, you might be right.  I have been considering the matter, and it makes perfect sense,” Giles said genuinely.

 

“Score one for Harris!” Faith said, flashing him a 100 watt grin.  “Well, if it’s not the pitcher’s mound,” she added, “gotta be home plate.”  Faith refused to look at Buffy.

 

“I think Xander’s right,” Buffy said.  “I’m going with the pitcher’s mound.”

 

“I was wondering where you'd all gone to,” Willow said, joining them. “I was looking for you guys.  Have I mentioned I really hate Hellmouth Seals?”

 

“Not as much as I do!” Xander said anxiously.  “You’ve never truly hated a Seal until you've been tied up and bled above one by a demon you’ve dated.”

 

Willow smiled.  “Good point.  Buffy said she was pretty, though, for a demon.”

 

Enough with the witty banter.  The entire ‘hellmouth opening’ talk was boring her and that was letting her mind wander over to a bunch of thoughts she didn’t want to deal with at the moment.  Besides, as far as she was concerned, the only way to find the opening was to bring a few shovels and start digging.

 

"Maybe I should ask Emma out," Xander said. "Pretty confidant that she's not a demon."

 

"Emma!" blurted Faith.

 

“Emma?” Buffy asked, her eyes widening.  She looked at Faith.  “You haven’t talked to her since Spike got here, have you?”

 

Shit!  She hadn’t.  Thanks for bringing it up, B.

 

“You haven’t?” Willow asked.

 

“Not on purpose,” Faith snipped at Willow.  “Not like I’m intentionally avoiding her.  When I’m here, she’s not… and the other way around.”  Faith looked around.  “Where is she anyway?”

 

“Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen her in awhile,” Xander said.  “Why am I getting nervous all of a sudden?”

 

“I’ll be right back,” Buffy said over her shoulder as she rushed into the garage, returning almost immediately.  “Her car’s gone.”

 

“Gone?” Faith said, no longer able to pretend that Buffy didn’t exist.

 

“Gone.”  Buffy repeated.

 

“Is it likely she and Andrew went out somewhere together?” Giles asked, the concern showing in his voice.

 

“Hot Pockets,” Faith said.  “The list of them Xander found on the counter.  What is it with him and those things?”

 

“He has issues,” Xander said.

 

“You think?”

 

“Think that’s where they went?” Buffy asked.

 

“Where’s a cell phone when you need one?” Xander asked.

 

“Squeak has one,” Faith said softly.  “I just never got the number.”  She caught the looks aimed her way.  “She was always with me.  Why would I need to call her?”

 

“What about Andrew?” Buffy asked Giles.

 

“He has one!” Giles said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his own cell phone and dialed. 

 

Come on, Andrew, answer already.

 

"Hey," called Dawn from the front door, holding a cell phone inside an oven mitten.  "Where's Andrew?"

 

“Is that the Stars Wars theme?” Xander asked.

 

“Where did you find it?” Buffy asked.

 

"The freezer," Dawn replied.

 

“What the hell?” Faith said.

 

“He left his phone in the freezer?” Willow asked.

 

"He'd forget his head if it wasn't attached," Giles muttered, canceling his call.

 

“Probably holding his spot for those stupid Hot Pockets,” Buffy said.

 

Dawn walked up to them, pulling the oven mitt off.  “Emma and I were supposed to go grocery shopping, but I stayed here.  Andrew must’ve gone with her.  Last time I saw him, he was working on a list.”

 

“What now?” Xander asked.

 

The voice of reason spoke to them all.  “We have no reason to believe Andrew or Emma are in any trouble,” Giles said.  “Our priority is to find the opening to the hellmouth.”

 

“We all can’t leave,” Xander said.  “Especially with Emma and Andrew gone.”

 

Faith just looked at Xander.  When did he start caring about Emma in that way?  “She’s a slayer and he’s a watcher. Sort of,” Faith said, leaning back on her car.  “She’ll be fine.”

 

“During daylight hours, I would agree,” Giles said.  “But it is nearing dusk and it’s unlikely Andrew will be of much help if the need arises.”

 

“Isn’t he in training?” Xander asked.

 

“`In training’ being the key words in that sentence,” Giles said.

 

“Explains a lot,” Xander replied.

 

“What are we going to do?” Faith asked, straightening up.  “We can’t just stay here.”

 

“I would suggest that you, Buffy and Spike head to the baseball stadium,” Giles said.  “Willow, Xander, Dawn and I will wait here for their return.  We will meet up with you shortly thereafter.”

 

“Fine.  Whatever.  Let’s just go already.”

 

“I’ll go tell Spike,” Dawn said, dashing back into the house. 

 

Faith wasn’t sure what was worse, staying here and doing nothing or going hunting with Buffy and Spike. 

 

XXXXX

 

“It’s getting kinda late,” Emma said, watching as Andrew flipped through the third DVD bin that had a sign above it indicating ‘$9.99 and under’.

 

“I’ll only be another minute,” he said glancing at her.  “These aren’t even ten bucks.  This is quite the deal.  Ooh, Remo Williams!”

 

Emma looked around nervously.  It was getting dark and no one knew where they were.  She was beginning to think this whole outing wasn’t such a good idea.  Time to play dirty to get his skinny butt moving.  “Your Hot Pockets are getting soggy.”

 

“Look at this one,” Andrew said cheekily.  “You'll like this.”

 

How many times had she’d seen Silence of the Lambs?  How many times did she yell at the television screen asking that girl if she was stupid?  Helping a guy load something into a van?  That was one of the oldest tricks in the books.

 

“I already have it,” she said, glancing at her watch again.  “We really need to get moving.”  Emma toyed with her hair.  She hadn’t tied it up before she left.  One of those things Faith made her do before they went out.  Faith kept telling her having hair that long wasn’t safe.  It never made much sense to Emma, not like Faith had short hair, but she always gave Faith the benefit of the doubt, being the one with all the experience.  During the day it didn’t seem like a big deal, but now… maybe Emma would get something to tie it back before they left.

 

“No way!” Andrew exclaimed, looking at her, a movie in his hand.  “Alien vs. Predator?  This one is mine.  You know that there would be no way the Alien could win.  Predator can go invisible.  Wouldn’t be possible to defeat a foe that was invisible even though Alien can extend its razor sharp teeth way beyond his face?  Not a chance.  Plus Predator has bombs.”  He turned backed toward the bin.

 

“It’s like having a child, isn’t it?”

 

Emma turned quickly around to see an older man standing next to her with his own full cart.  “I’m sorry?”

 

“My grandkids are the same way.  Bring them in here and they never want to leave.  Seems your boyfriend is like that too,” he said, a mischievous smile toying at his lips.

 

“My boyfriend?”  Emma snorted.  Old guy’s gaydar must be broken too.  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

 

“Brother?”

 

“He’s just a friend.”  Emma raised her voice.  “Who will be walking home if he doesn’t get a move on.”

 

“You have very pretty hair,” he continued.  “My wife, God rest her soul, had hair just like yours.”

 

Emma wasn’t sure what to say.  Yeah, the guy had complimented her, but in the same sentence he brought up his dead wife.  Yuck.

 

“Thanks and sorry about your loss.”  It was the only thing she could think of.

 

“It’s okay.  I’m sure I’ll be seeing her again soon.”

 

“Andrew!”  Emma yelled.  “Let’s go already.”

 

“You have a point, my dear.  It is time to go.  I believe I may have ice cream that is melting myself.  Have a beautiful evening.”  He strolled away, pushing his cart ahead of him.

 

“I turn my back on you briefly and you’re picking up old men in the grocery store.” Andrew said, smiling.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I was doing.  But then I figured he would be more your type.  Older and more experienced.”

 

“Hey!” Andrew declared, sounding shocked.

 

Emma smiled.  “You had it coming.  Now let’s go.”

 

XXXXX

 

Emma looked around as they loaded their bags into her car.  It was dark, and she was secretly chiding herself for parking in the back of the lot.  Times were different.  She should start doing things differently. 

And she had forgotten to get something for her hair.  The fact that the lampposts closest to her car were burnt out didn’t help matters either.

 

“Can you help me?” 

 

Emma turned to see the man she had spoken to earlier, his shopping cart was turned over on its side, and his van, she guessed it was his van, parked a couple of spots away from hers. 

 

“I’ve hit a bump and spilled my cart and I’m not strong enough to pull it back up,” he said.

 

“Andrew,” Emma said, handing him a bag, “stay here and finish loading the car.  I’ll be right back.”  Andrew nodded as Emma walked over to help the older man.

 

“Thank you.  Young people nowadays aren’t always willing to help out their elders,” he said.  “Especially when their help is so sorely needed to just survive.”

 

“No problem.”  Emma just wanted to get the cart turned upright so she and Andrew could leave.  The old guy was starting to give her the willies.

 

XXXXX

 

Faith’s crossbow was not cooperating as she tried to shove it into her weapons bag.  She couldn’t believe she had left the stupid thing in the bedroom closet, never having packed it up when she moved to the basement.

 

Maybe she would just move back into the bedroom.  After the big blow up in the kitchen, they'd all gone off in different directions.  That hadn’t changed and probably wouldn’t anytime soon. 

 

Faith still hadn’t talked to anyone, really.  She wasn’t sure why she was so shocked by the entire Spike and Buffy revelation.  Spike was a vampire and he didn’t have a soul back then.

 

That was then.  This is now.  Right?

 

Not like Faith hadn’t done horrendous things in her day… Wesley briefly came to mind.  Glass, fire, crashing through a window, Angel… 

 

“I'm bad.  I'm bad!  I'm evil!  Please just do it.  Just kill me.  Just kill me."

 

Shit, who was she to pass judgment on anybody?  The thought managed to do the impossible; her life was officially even more confusing.

 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar sound outside the open bedroom window.  There was absolutely no mistaking the screeching of someone popping a clutch and grinding gears all at the same time.

 

“No way,” she said as the sound came closer.  Emma would not have let that twit drive her car.  Faith made her way to the window.  She couldn’t see out well enough since the room-darkening shade was halfway drawn, so she gave it a good tug and watched it as it slapped the top of the window, spinning around a few times before it finally came to a rest. 

 

That didn’t help. Now Faith wasn’t able to see the driveway because the leaves had come in on the maple trees.  She gave her bag a quick once over, threw it over her shoulder and rushed downstairs.  Since she was guilting about not talking to Emma, she figured this would be as good a time as any to start making up for it.  Buffy and Spike met her at the bottom of the stairs.

 

“You heard that too?” Buffy asked.

 

“Sounded like someone threw a bleeding monkey wrench into a trash compactor,” Spike said, glancing at Faith.

 

The more Faith thought about it, the more she knew that Emma wouldn’t let the dork drive her car.  The bells and whistles that started going off in her head were deafening.

 

“No way she’d let him drive her car like that.”  Faith raced out the door.

 

Faith wasn’t sure what registered first; the fact that Andrew was indeed driving Emma’s car; the fact that Andrew couldn’t get the car into the driveway because the incline kept causing it to roll back into the street, or the most frightening fact of all…  Andrew was alone.

 

XXXXX