I'm wondering if, Char being Char, she wouldn't name a big chestnut gelding something like "Blondie".

Yes! Or Dagmar.

DAGMAR?!?!?!?

O lordylordlord, a beautiful injoke for me. Because the wife of the man who invented the noise reduction system company for which I worked for a few years - a company that rhymes with Shmolby - is called Dagmar.

Oh yes. A chestnut gelding named Dagmar. Must consider this...

Dagmar is lovely, As is Chestnut. I think if she were going with the Authorian theme, from what little I'm gathering, the horse should be straight up Lancelot.

I like Dagmar. It sounds like Char.

And I am for falling into bed. 'Morrow.

Dagmar.

Modern times? One of these for her.

Oh. my. word.

Those are totally Charlotte horses. Hungarian warmbloods? And they're humongous, too.

Jeeeez. I haven't been on horseback since Jo was a baby in London, but I am lusting after one of those.

Victor, Char's - unique. She has a sort of thing where she says anything that comes into her head, and the first take is to assume it's because she's a privileged wellborn twit. But she's not a twit, and she's very wam. First time she meets my protagonist, Ringan, she tells him, pumping his hand, that she wants to take him behind a car and shag him. Ringan's girlfriend comes to love her, rather fiercely. Char would totally call a horse Dagmar.

But I think a mare for the Hungarian warmblood, because I want one who is generally placid for this scene, to take Char by surprise.

And I've just realised, I'm in fic, not Great Write. Argh! Sorry...

I get it. And Dagmar's a lovely name.

Well, not *quite* effortless, but more like taking dictation than any writing I've ever done. And my ex-roommate sounded a lot like Kay, well, if Kay cursed in Italian. I just thought that now. "Deja vu all over again,"And no, she didn't walk a beat, but she did "cocktail" for a lot of years...I'd rather work homicide. And I just read "Homicide: A Year On The Killing Streets" Which is so much better written than any other crime book, ever, that I consider it the OTCB.(One True Crime Book)

Guess what? It's done. "Career Change." If I didn't know there was a sequel coming I'd be in tears. And so, for your reading pleasure, the final section of V!Giles. For now.

The stories were told over a scraped together breakfast in the common room. Willow talked most, describing the siege, the arrows, the loss of Anya.

"He--he made a deal with D'Hoffryn?" Buffy repeated. "Her life for--whatever D'Hoffryn wants?" Willow nodded solemnly. "Well, we'll have to get him out of it."

"I don't know that we can, honey," Joyce said. "He agreed, even after Spike tried to talk him out of it. Anya's life was on the line, and he agreed."

"Was she really dying?" Dawn whispered from where she sat as close to her mother as she could. Joyce nodded sadly.

"I don't care," Buffy said. "No demon gets to use my friends like a bar bet. I'll find D'Hoffryn and get this settled." Sadness replaced the resolve. "He was really going to ask her to marry him?"

Willow nodded. "He said he was paying for a ring and everything."

Dawn licked her lips. "Can't they--you know . . . anyway? She's not dead."

Buffy hugged her. "I don't know, Dawnie. The full-fledged vengeance demon thing might be a bit of a crimp."

"Spiked offered to turn her into a vampire instead and lend us the orb to put her soul back," Willow added. "I think Xander was thinking about it."

"It was that or watch her die," Joyce said softly. "Poor boy."

"It was an accident?" Buffy asked. "They didn't aim at her specifically?"

Willow nodded, but Tara frowned. "I don't think the Knights cared either way, if they hit someone or not." She shivered. "That one soldier--I think he meant to--he was swinging his sword at me . . ." Willow hugged her tight.

Buffy looked confused. "A soldier tried to hurt you? What happened?"

It took Willow a long time to answer. "Xander shot him. Shot him d--dead."

"The one by the chapel?" Buffy whispered.

"I was going to stop him! I was, I just couldn't think--Xander shouldn't have--"

Tara put her finger across Willow's lips. "Sweetheart, there wasn't time. That sword was so close . . . if Xander hadn't, I'd . . ." She put her head on Willow's shoulder, and Willow hid her face in her lover's hair.

"Xander's been through a great deal tonight," Joyce said. "He did the best he could."

"He still shouldn't have sicced Spike on those soldiers," Willow muttered.

"What?" Buffy said. "*Xander* sent Spike out? Against humans?"

"He went all scary, Buffy. He kept saying things like the Knights knew what they were getting into and stuff."

"He told Spike to hurt people?"

"Like Spike would need to be told," Dawn said. She saw everyone staring at her. "What?"

Buffy frowned thoughtfully. "Spike was doing what Xander told him to? He wasn't running wild on his own? Why?"

Willow shrugged. "It was weird, the two of them working together. They seemed to know what each other was thinking. Xander gave orders, and Spike even saluted."

Buffy shook her head, unable to get her head around the concept of Spike and Xander on the same side.

They talked until adrenal withdrawal and lack of sleep threatened to drop them in their seats. Dawn was unashamedly yawning against Joyce's shoulder, and Joyce was blinking and shifting uncomfortably in her hard chair. They silently and unanimously agreed to table further discussions until they'd had a few hours' uninterrupted sleep. At the door of Willow and Tara's room, though, they all paused on seeing Anya's belongings piled on the bed she'd claimed.

"Should--should we pack them up?" Tara suggested. "Or leave them for Xander?"

"We'll pack them later," Joyce said firmly. "After we've had some sleep. We can leave them for now."

Dawn blinked rapidly. "I mean--it's not like she's dead, right? She's still going to want her stuff, right? Wherever she's at?"

"Right," Buffy agreed. She frowned and looked across the hall into the Summers room, which was also empty. "Where is he, anyway?"

"He might still be in the chapel," Willow said. "He likes it in there. I think he probably wants to be alone right now. Oh, god." She bit her lip suddenly. "I remember, a couple of weeks ago, he was going on about not knowing any guys and how if he ever got married I was going to have to be his best person."

Tara tugged her into the room, whispering soothingly. Joyce gathered her daughters as well as she could while maneuvering the walker, and they went into the other room, closing the door behind them. Dawn helped Joyce balance as she sat down on her bed with a grateful sigh.

"I don't think I've ever been this tired in my life," Joyce said.

Dawn nodded. "And I even got some sleep. Though it may not count, because that was in another world."

Joyce shook her head. "You were on a different world. It's so--odd." Dawn tried to think of something to say but could only shrug and nod again.