And now we're trying to figure out spoilers for fic. Cool.

Bwa-ha-ha! My evil plan, it is working!

But now, laundry.

I'm gonna guess Doc. After all, we never did see him after Buffy pushed him from the tower. Theoretically, he could have survived, right?

Hmmm. Giles, Ethan, Caleb, Doc. Hmmm.

In the City
Part Fourteen: Past Tense

The conference room—which previously looked like a comfortable rec room—was now transformed into a military planning center. The sofas and the comfy chair were still there, but the TV displayed schematics of the Wolfram & Hart building, and files and maps rested on the coffee table.

Riley, commandeering the comfy chair, looked stern and pensive, lost in thought. Ethan looked indignant on the couch—two soldiers hovering above him. Oz recognized one of the soldiers—Graham Miller. Before hooking up with this job, Oz had last seen him at the Initiative—one of the soldiers that had imprisoned him. He and Oz had talked it out when Oz arrived, but still…

Justine and Oz stayed standing. Amy sat down on the couch next to Ethan, who turned to smile at her. She shot him a withering glance, and he turned instead back to Riley.

“So,” said Ethan. “Mighty commander. What’s our glorious mission for Queen and Country?”

“This is America,” said Graham. “We don’t have a queen.”

“Don’t be so certain. I’ve seen the pictures of your president as a cheerleader.”

“If you’re finished,” said Riley, “Let’s get this started.” Oz noted the edge to Riley’s voice. The man was not pleased.

“I’ve talked to both Buffy and Rupert Giles, and their … credulous of the idea that both Faith and Willow have gone back to the dark side.

“‘Credulous’ was Giles’ word, wasn’t it?” asked Oz. Riley just gave him a dog-tired stare, and then pushed forward.

“I don’t know about Faith, but I have trouble believing Willow’s gone bade,” said Riley. “I mean, I know her. She’s not …”

“She skinned a guy alive, once,” said Amy. “The guy who killed Tara Maclay?”

Riley went pale.

“And then she tried to destroy the world,” continued Amy, as Oz bristled. “Oh, sure. I’ve done some bad things in my day, but trust me, Srgt. Rock-Hard Abs, you don’t know her nearly as well as I do.”

“And you don’t know her as well as me,” said Oz, a low growl building at the back of his throat. Amy swung around to look at him.

“And am I really so wrong?” she said. Oz had no reply.

“Giles’ people are looking for them,” said Riley, breaking the tension. “But someone’s working overtime to make sure we’re kept away from our mission. People who, a few days ago, we thought were allies are attacking us. That is, if it’s really …”

“It’s really them,” said Oz “I can’t be fooled.”

“Right,” said Riley, rubbing his forehead. “You’re going back into Wolfram & Hart by morning. The schematics are being downloaded into a command bracelet. Oz, that’ll be yours.”

Graham handed Oz something that looked like a thin gauntlet with a Dell embedded in it. “Cool,” said Oz. “Very Dick Tracy.”

“Have fun,” said Ethan. “Because going in there worked so well last time.”

“You’re going with them, Ethan,” said Riley. “We suspect there’s some document, ancient texts, mystical artifacts. Things we’ll need examined on the spot.” There was a moment of silence as Ethan absorbed that thought. “Oz’s bracelet can also trigger your explosive device, so no funny stuff if you want to keep your spell-casting arm. This is the big one. Most of you aren’t conscripts, so if you want out, the door’s open.”

Ethan raised his hand. “Not you,” said Riley. No one else budged, although Amy looked pensive. “Right. OK, we meet here at 8 a.m. tomorrow, and move on from there.” We’ve put files together for you, the best we can. Study them, and get some rest.”

Riley stood up and slowly examined the rag-tag team, and made a smile that seemed less happy than Oz imagined it was meant to be.

“We can win this,” said Riley. “We have to.”

The team dispersed back to their quarters, with a temporary room being arranged for Amy. Oz lingered a bit behind, looking at the hastily put together files. One had a picture of Willow clipped to it. It was her senior picture. Oz had a copy of it himself in his wallet.

“You miss her,” said Justine, from behind him. Oz didn’t usually get snuck up on. He (continued...)

( continues...) realized how distracted he must be.

“Yeah,” said Oz. “You OK?”

“The burns weren’t as bad as they looked, and I heal fast.”

“Slayer healing powers. I’ve seen it before.”

“Yeah.”

There was a lingering silence. Which, thought Oz, was the norm for the two of them, both being the taciturn sort as they were.

“Are we coming back from this, tomorrow?”

Oz thought about it. “Wish I knew,” he said. “I plan to.”

“That’s good,” said Justine. “Honest.”

“Yeah.”

She stepped closer, and looked at the picture of Willow.

“She’s pretty.”

Oz smiled, but was doing a terrible job of hiding all the pain behind the smile, and Justine knew it.

“You should go to bed,” he said. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Possibly our last day.”

Justine took the file from Oz, and closed it. Tentatively, she raised her palm to his cheek. She practically towered over him.

“Justine,” said Oz, but then he stopped, and she was kissing him.

And for a moment, the night and the battles and the fear fell away.

you want out, the door’s open.”

Ethan raised his hand. “Not you

I adore Ethan.

I adore Ethan.

Me too. I've only gotten to use him a couple times, and he always gets the funny bits.

Of course, one needs to remember when writing him that he really is dangerous and not just comic relief.

Maybe Wesley....glasses....but it feels Calebish to me.

Plus Wes is pretty dead--though that's never counted for anything.

I don't see Wes as a Gershwin hummer.

Okay -- on re-read much more Caleb-like.