You betcha. I'll have to tinker with it tomorrow, b/c I need sleep now. I have to get up early tomorrow for a chiropractor appointment, which is a priority these days.

I think it'll be squeaky Vi who opens the door...

Heh. I can see VampFaith mentally earmarking the squeaky kid for a midnight snack.

(Can we give her Kennedy too? Huh? Can we? Pretty please?)

Steph, loved it. Something sort of ironic--I "heard" Faith speaking your dialogue--and she had her old accent.

SA, I really liked Donuts, too. One nitpick, however. Giles would never ever, except in extremis, clean his glasses on his shirt. He--at least at the time when he was the school librarian and dressed in a suit--always had a clean handkerchief for just such a purpose.

ed. for punct.

Bev!

Everyone is not saying a word about last installment of Needfire and I used Pink Floyd and I need to know if it works there. The segment's not done; it's just the first half. Rest of it is in the meadow the next day, but it's short. Then the biggie on her birthday, then an aftermath i've already written in my head.

OH my god, Deb. That bit left me drooling and speechless. Just sort of hanging in space here waiting for the next installment.

It's very dreamy, in that slightly altered zoned way, and the music underscores that, and the lyrics (perfect lyrics! You got to use the song!) do too. But even though the emotion and the focus on each other is intense, and deep, the foreboding is there, still there, and were waiting to find out what it is.

That help any?

Yes, thanks. Major thing was, is it too big a shift from her usual sort of power-control thing? I was trying for a sort of dislocate but only a partial, thanks to the hash and the non-controllability of what's about to happen.

If not, this is good; I can proceed with the rest of that bit. Otherwise, I'd have to rework it. This is entirely new turf for me.

a sort of dislocate but only a partial, thanks to the hash and the non-controllability of what's about to happen.

Nailed it. At least that's what I felt.

Excellence! Thankee once more, Mme. Editrix.

There's a typo at the end of chap 5 of Matty groves, which has been fixed, and I wrote a bit more, which I'll send in the morning.

Lookee! It's the last segment of Desperate Times! Next stop, for both the story and our fearless heroes--the great big world!

Dinner was quiet at the Summers' house. They didn't discuss what had happened to Tara or the creature that had followed Dawn from school. Buffy watched her mother surreptitiously, trying to gauge if Joyce was up to a trip. She thought about mentioning the possibility of running for cover, but the expected explanations and protests were too much to deal with just yet. Best to have a destination in mind.

Who could she trust to look after her mother? The place had to be far enough away from Sunnydale that Glory wouldn't bother following. The Hellgod was bound to a specific time and location, giving the Scoobies more room to maneuver.

Once they were finished eating, Buffy pulled Dawn aside. "Would you start the dishes and everything? I've got a phone call to make."

Dawn started to protest, but Buffy was wearing the Slayer look. Whatever phone call this was, it wasn't the "hi, let's chat" kind. She nodded and hurried into the kitchen to make sure Joyce didn't do more than put some light leftovers in the fridge.

Buffy took the cordless phone out onto the porch for both privacy and the chance to keep watch. She hadn't dialed this number in over a year, but the Slayer-memory didn't give things up.

"Thank you for calling Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless," Cordelia's professional voice said.

"Cordy, it's Buffy--"

"Your call is very important to us. We're working on several cases right at the moment, but if you'll leave your name and number or a place where you can be reached, we'll make getting back to you a top priority."

Buffy grimaced. Well, it was after business hours--except Angel's typical clientele were more used to the dark. She waited for the beep. "Angel, Cordelia, if you're there, please pick up. Wesley, you, too--either, if you're there." No answer. "OK, I guess no one's there. This is--"

The phone picked up. "Hello?" said a male voice she didn't recognize.

"Hi, who's this?"

"This is Lorne. Can I help you?"

"Um, is Angel there?"

"I'm sorry, Angel's not available right at the moment. Can I--"

"What about Cordelia?"

The very nice voice became preoccupied. "I'm--afraid Cordelia's not in either. If you tell me how we can help you, perhaps ..."

It wasn't something she felt comfortable telling a stranger. "Is Angel going to be back soon?"

"Well, to be honest, Angel and the others are--going out of town on a case. But I can take a message."

"Is he going to be gone long?"

"It could be several days. Can I take a message?"

"No," she said after a moment. "I'll call back if I still need his help. Thanks."

"No problem. Thank you for calling Angel Investigations."

Buffy turned off the phone and stared out into the dark. Part of her was relieved: the thought of sending Joyce off into someone else's protection hadn't made her happy. Still, LA was nice and far.

She looked up as a car pulled up at the curb. Giles' red convertible. With Giles at the wheel, Spike next to him and behind--

"Willow," she gasped. She ran down. "Willow, what are you doing?"

"I told them what happened," Willow said calmly. She took Giles' hand as he got out and held the door for her. "I wanted Giles' help."

Buffy looked at Giles suspiciously. "Help for what?"

"Going after Glory," Willow said unapologetically.

"Willow, I said--"

"When Angel was dying from that poison," Willow snapped, "you tried to kill Faith, then you made him drink from you. Don't judge me for what I'm willing to do for the one I love."

Buffy bit back what she wanted to say. "But you're here instead."

Giles shrugged. "We talked her out of it."

She wanted to ask how, but decided that could wait. "What are you two doing here?"

Spike nodded at Willow. "Red told us about the demon at the shop. I'm here to help look after Niblet and your mum--if you'll have me."

Her first vampire of choice was unavailable, and she couldn't deny an ally with his own grudge against Glory would be useful. She nodded, then glanced at Giles.

"He says there's a way to save Tara," Willow said excitedly. "A magical way."

"What?"

"Do you remember that Knight who said the minds could be restored?" Giles said to Buffy.

"Yeah, he said--he said it was sorcerer's work."

Giles nodded.

Buffy looked at Willow. "How?"

"It's simple, it's a breaking of the link and a rebinding. The only hard part is getting Tara close to Glory."

"Only ..."

Willow shrugged. "I'm willing to try it."

Buffy stared at her, torn. "If Glory got her hands on you ..."

"I know. But it's Tara's only chance." Willow took a deep breath. "I'm not asking permission. But I know you're trying to juggle a lot of stuff, you need to know what I'm planning."

"How long can you wait?"

"Giles says it needs to be as soon as possible."

Giles came partway around the car, obviously trying not to crowd Buffy. "You have a plan?"

Buffy shrugged. "Less a plan, more a panic. Ben at the hospital said I deserved a few days off, and I asked him if Mom was well enough to travel. So I thought--Glory can't do anything without the Key, and if we take the Key out of her reach ..."

Giles nodded slowly. "That's actually a very good plan. Get everyone Glory can hurt out of her reach, put the Key so far away that even if Glory did gain possession that there wouldn't be time to get back here in time for the alignment."

"You do remember that the point of this is to keep--the Key away from Glory, right? That's my first priority." She looked at Willow. "We can't cure Tara if the world's been sucked into hell."

Willow hesitated, then nodded. "But e

Willow hesitated, then nodded. "But even hell might be OK, if I had Tara back," she whispered, too softly for vampires or Slayers to hear.

"Spike and I already told the others that we'd be gone a few days," Giles said to Buffy. "I knew matters were coming to a head, and I thought--" He smiled. "I hoped we could be of some service."

Buffy studied first Giles, then Spike. The one used to be the person to whom she'd unhesitatingly trusted her life. She had to keep reminding herself that he was almost as big a danger to Dawn as Glory. The other one--all she could depend on him for were uncomfortable declarations of demonic love and the occasional wistful remembrance of bloody days gone by. And the steadfast refusal to betray her.

Finally she sighed and nodded. "Spike, I need you and Willow to stay here and keep an eye on Mom and Dawn. Between the two of you, you should be able to hold off just about anything."

Spike glanced at Willow, who straightened in determination. "We've got your back, pet."

Buffy met his eyes. "If it all goes to hell, the keys to the Land Rover are in the Mexican bowl on the kitchen counter. I don't care where, just take them some place far away." He grimaced, then nodded shortly.

"What are you going to do?" Willow asked.

She shrugged again. "Looks like it's a roadtrip. I told Xander and Anya to pack up and be ready to go in the morning."

"I'm not leaving Tara--"

"We aren't going to. We'll stop by the dorm for your stuff, then at the hospital for Tara. Then ..."

Giles moved up to Buffy's side. "Your mother's Land Rover won't hold that many people."

"I know."

"And a destination would be advisable. We can't wander the hinterlands like the Lost Tribes."

"I know."

"May I help you with both problems?"

She stared at him, remembering years of mutual faith and every lesson about the essential untrustworthiness and self-interest of vampires. "I would be very pleased if you would."