Or, more importantly, a reason to go home at night because you know there's someone there who can make everything better just for a while.

I hope not too much more importantly, since I've never had one.

Cats count. Heck, a perky fish will do the job.

Cats count. Heck, a perky fish will do the job.

TTT: Aragorn had a horse. Oh, dear. Oh, dear.

Did I mention oh dear?

Cats count. Heck, a perky fish will do the job.

Never had a pet either. Still get along okay, though.

Superior persons always transcend commonalities.

(writing while I wait for calls, it's a happy thing)

Giles coasted the BMW to a stop just outside the parking lot of the Parkeview Apartments. He jumped over the car door instead of opening it. Buffy stared in surprise but opened her door normally.

"Guess that knee's not bothering you anymore, huh?" she said.

"No, it's not." Giles was more concerned with studying the area than with conversation. He turned his head to scan in all directions, the rest of him still as--as a very still thing. Suddenly he turned as a faint footstep crunched on the asphalt.

Xander stopped well out of reach. "Nice to see you two."

"Go home, Xander," Giles snapped.

"I don't take orders from vampires." He turned back to Buffy. "I snuck in and took a quick look around, chatted up a janitor. Glory's on the sixth floor. Jorge figures they're a weird cult, cause of the robed people."

"Did he see Spike?"

"Jorge's like the guys at the construction site, he doesn't see anything he's not explicitly told to see. So how are we going to do this?"

Giles went to the back of his car and opened the trunk. "Buffy and I will go inside and see if we can get Spike out of there. You are going to go home."

Xander looked pointedly at Buffy. "How are we going to do this, Buffy?"

Buffy studied the building and the number of lighted windows. "Any people moving around?"

"Middle of the night for normal people, only people moving are the maintenance crew."

"Good. We can go up the fire stairs, sneak up on them."

Xander shrugged and went to peer into Giles' trunk. "Well, three people isn't what I'd normally call a crack hostage extraction squad, but whatever works." He pulled out an ax and tested the swing.

Buffy pulled out a crossbow. "Rescue's not my first priority," she said softly. "Keeping him from telling Glory about Dawn is."

Xander stopped the swing and stared at her. "You're just going to go in and shoot him?"

"He's a threat to Dawn. I can't risk him telling."

Giles pulled out a sword and another crossbow. "I hope you don't mind if I try to get him out of there first. I've rather gotten used to the rotten bastard." He saw Xander watching him with a very thoughtful look, and he wondered just how much reading the young man had been doing in the restricted books on inter-vampire relations.

Buffy studied her crossbow. "I'd rather you two just stayed back and covered me. If Glory grabbed either of you--"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence there, Buff," Xander snapped.

"You know who Dawn is as well as we do," Giles added softly. "But you're not worried about the danger you're in?"

"I'm not in any--"

"You told me yourself, when Glory raised the snake, that you couldn't stop her. You couldn't even slow her down. She's not sure if Spike knows about the Key, but she is sure you do. She knows you're protecting it. By rights you shouldn't be going in there at all."

"Which means none of us should be going."

Xander grinned. "Which means, I think, that all of us are going." He went over and squeezed her shoulders. "Come on, Buff, it'll be like old times, we go in there, we make it up as we go along, we kick some butt, and we get out of there alive--no offense," he added to Giles.

"None taken," Giles said. "I see you've entered into your usual pre-battle inane chatter."

The grin never faltered. "Hey, it's kept me alive so far."

Giles wondered if he'd really heard that slight emphasis on "me".

All the Slayers in the back of Buffy's head screamed at her that people going with her would only get hurt. Those voices had screamed at her for years now. And still Xander kept popping up with the babble and the cocky grin and Giles was there with the determination, and she knew they'd only follow her if she said "No" and tried to mean it.

"OK, then," she sighed. "Let's go."

Xander stopped well out of reach. "Nice to see you two."

This might scan better as 'you guys' or something like, because for just a second I wondered if it should be 'you too' meaning 'you as well'...

But I'm hopped up on goofballs.

"None taken," Giles said. "I see you've entered into your usual pre-battle inane chatter."
The grin never faltered. "Hey, it's kept me alive so far."
Giles wondered if he'd really heard that slight emphasis on "me".

This entire exchange? Brilliant.

This might scan better as 'you guys' or something like

Good point.

(and another chunk)

Glory reclined on her couch and nibbled on one of her dark chocolate truffles. "So is he awake yet?"

Dreg peered at the slumped vampire tied to the chair. "I don't know, most holy. How would I tell?"

She sighed and got to her feet. "Like this, dumdum." She grabbed a handful of Spike's hair and yanked.

"Ow!" Spike yelled. "Leave off, you stupid bint!"

Glory crouched down in front of him. "Excuse me?" she asked sweetly, tapping her fingernails on his left kneecap.

"Um--oh. Sorry. Thought you were someone else."

"Like who? You have a lot of people knocking you around?"

He snickered. "More than you could ever believe, pet. Slayer's got a tendency to come around and do the threatening thing."

She jumped to her feet. "You thought I was the Slayer?"

"Don't know what I was thinking." He studied her for a moment, making no effort to disguise his interest. "Must be the concussion. Slayer's got nothing on you."

"Vampires don't get concussions. And, um ..." She smoothed her dress and made an effort to tidy her hair, then shook herself. "Anyway, before you distracted me with the passing out thing, I was asking you who knew where the Key is."

"As if anyone would let me know anything--"

She backhanded him. "I don't care if anyone would tell you, bleach head, do you know who does know where the Key is?" She smiled as his shoulders began to quiver. "So you ready to talk now?" Then she heard him laughing. "What are you laughing at!"

He raised his head and sneered at her, blood running down from his split lip. "Bleach head? You call yourself a god? Come on, Xander Harris comes up with better lines than that."

Glory grabbed him by the throat and lifted him, chair and all. "Don't you know who I am!"

"Yeah," he coughed. "Glory, god of used to be scary."

She raised a clawed hand up to his face. "I could rip your eyeballs out and smush them under my foot."

He laughed again and shook his head. "No, no, don't go for the eyeballs now, you haven't even broken all my fingers yet. Come on, where's the classic progression of pain? And where's the psychological torture? All you've given me is bad diction and B-movie villain ranting."

She shook him. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

He sneered. "Somebody who was raised by Angelus, Scourge of Europe. Now there's a bloke who knew the potential of common household equipment. You're kindergarten class compared to him."

With a shriek, she threw him and the chair against the wall. The chair exploded, and Spike hit the floor in a tangle of ropes, chains, and potential stakes.

"Full marks for freedom, lad," he muttered to himself, "zero points for sense." He scrambled to his feet, tried not to count how many ribs were broken and stabbing into useless-but-painful internal organs, and crashed through the door.

He laughed again and shook his head. "No, no, don't go for the eyeballs now, you haven't even broken all my fingers yet. Come on, where's the classic progression of pain? And where's the psychological torture? All you've given me is bad diction and B-movie villain ranting."

She shook him. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

He sneered. "Somebody who was raised by Angelus, Scourge of Europe. Now there's a bloke who knew the potential of common household equipment. You're kindergarten class compared to him."

This is better than what aired; and what aired was pretty damn good.