“Half across the world from me/Lie the lands I’ll never see—/I, whose longing lives and dies/Where a ship has sailed away;/I, that never close my eyes/But to look upon Cathay…/Under deeper skies than mine,/Quiet valleys dip and shine./Where their tender grasses heal/Ancient scars of trench and tomb/I shall never walk: nor kneel/Where the bones of poets bloom…” ~Dorothy Parker, “Hearthside”

Dawn inched her way through the throng of people. The party was as crowded as she’d expected it to be, and Monica was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, it’s the new girl.”

She stiffened as an older boy slung his arm around her shoulders. Dawn could smell alcohol and cologne, and she tried to keep the discomfort off her face. She wanted to be cool. “Hi.”

“I told Monica to invite you,” he said. “You want something to drink?”

“I’m good.” Dawn tried to figure out a polite way to extricate herself. She could hear in the boy’s voice that he expected payback for his intervention.

A dark-haired girl suddenly showed up in front of them, the expression on her face one of disdain. “Uh, Josh, your girlfriend is looking for you.”

The arm around Dawn’s shoulders disappeared. “Yeah, okay. You don’t—”

“Get out of here, Josh.”

Josh left, and Dawn breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

The girl shrugged. “Josh is a horndog. Any time there’s a new girl, he’s all over her.” She smiled. “I’m Ally.”

“Dawn.”

“Yeah. Come on, I’ll show you where Monica keeps the sodas.” Ally led the way through the crowd. “And by the way, at a party like this, it’s best to only drink it from the can.”

“I thought there wasn’t supposed to be alcohol here,” Dawn said in a low voice, following Ally’s broad back.

“There isn’t. Officially. Josh carries a flask, though. Most of the older guys do, and Monica always invites them.”

“Hey, Ally.” The kitchen was less crowded. There were a few kids in there, most of them standing next to the cooler, which was full of ice and a variety of sodas. The girl who had greeted Ally had apparently appointed herself keeper of the soda. “Diet?”

“God, no. It’s Friday. I’ll take a regular.”

The dark-skinned girl handed Ally a Coke. “Do you want something?”

“Uh, Sprite?”

“I’m Lisa, by the way.”

“Dawn.”

“We’ve got English together,” Lisa said. “And we have math with Ally.”

“And we have a test on Monday,” Ally pointed out. “Do you want to get together tomorrow to study?”

“Yeah. That would be great.”

Dawn was suddenly grateful that she’d come.

~~~~~

Quinn hung up the phone, giving a sigh of relief. Travers had accepted her explanation for how she’d gotten Wesley’s interpretation—she’d claimed to have broken into Wesley’s apartment to retrieve his notes.

Then again, this was what she’d trained for, so it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that she would—or could.

“Is it done?” Spike asked.

She nodded. “He didn’t seem to doubt me.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Buffy muttered. “Would he send someone else?”

Quinn shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. As long as he thinks I’m doing my job, he likely won’t.”

“Let’s keep him happy, then,” Spike said. “You’re on the team, Quinn.”

She wasn’t sure why relief flowed through her. Acceptance from a vampire wouldn’t have interested her six months before—but this was different. “Okay.”

“We’re going to need a personal item of yours,” Buffy said. “We have a permanent locator spell set up, and we want to put you on the map.”

Quinn saw that request as the double-edged sword that it was. As long as she was on their side, it meant that they would be able to find her if she was in trouble. If she ever turned against them, however, it would mean they would have a quick way to locate her.

She recognized it as the last test it was. “Here.” Taking off a ring that her mother had given her, Quinn asked, “Will I get it back?”

“You’ll get it back undamaged,” Spike promised.

“Great.” Quinn rose from the chair. “I should get going. I’ve got a class.”

She did have a class, but she had also seen the looks that Buffy and Spike had been exchanging. And, having seen their passion firsthand, she would prefer to give them their space.

Besides, she had a meeting that she was looking forward to.

~~~~~

Glory was not having a good week. She still hadn’t found her Key, even though it should have been in her hands by now. The monk should have given her its location, but he’d remained stubbornly silent.

And the appearance of the Slayer and that damn vampire had deprived her of that chance.

The fact that the Slayer had thwarted her twice told Glory that she was the key to the whole thing—although the pun was unintentional on her part.

“I want her bones ground up for my bread,” Glory fumed. “I want to drink her blood straight from her jugular. And while I’m at it, I want to see that vampire turn to dust in the slowest, most painful way possible.”

The head Lei-Ach demon said something that Glory didn’t quite catch. “What?” He repeated himself, and she scowled. “Of course I want you to kill them. It was just an expression of speech. Don’t be stupid.”

He said something else. Glory could understand, of course. There wasn’t a language she didn’t speak—as long as it was a demonic language. It was part and parcel of being a Hellgod.

“I don’t care where you do it,” she replied impatiently. “I just want them dead.”

And if the Lei-Ach demons couldn’t do the job, Glory could do it herself, but for right now, she had other things to take care of.

~~~~~

“So.”

“So.”

Tara smiled at Quinn’s repetition. She sensed that the other girl was as nervous as she was. Although she hadn’t received a lecture from Willow about meeting with Quinn like this, she’d still understood the looks she was getting.

Willow was worried—not that Tara would give something crucial away, but that her heart would get tangled up with the Watcher’s, and she would end up disappointed.

Quinn blushed, laughing. “I haven’t been this nervous in a long time.”

“How long has it been?”

“Years. There weren’t—I was the only girl in my class not interested in boys.”

“I know. I grew up in a small town,” Tara confided. “There weren’t a lot of girls interested in the same sort of things.”

Quinn nodded. “The Council is a fairly small community, you know? Everybody knows everybody, or so it seems.”

“You and Wesley had never met, though.” Tara wasn’t doubting Quinn’s words, but she was curious.

Quinn shook her head. “He was older. I’ve met his father, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect of him.”

“You didn’t care for his father?”

Quinn shrugged. “He’s a company man. I don’t know much more than that.”

“But you heard rumors.”

“Let’s just say that he has the reputation of being a hard-ass. Wesley is lucky to being out from under his thumb, I think.”

“And you?”

“My parents were great,” Quinn said. “Since I was a Potential, they were allowed to train me until I was eighteen. Then I went to the Watcher’s Academy for two years, until they realized I knew everything I needed to know.”

“And this is what you wanted to do?”

Quinn sighed. “I wanted to save the world.”

“Maybe you will.”

“What about you? You seem to be an old hand at saving the world.”

“Not really.” Tara took a sip of her coffee. “I got caught up in it by accident, really.”

She leaned forward. “Don’t tell me there’s nothing special about you. I won’t believe it.”

Tara tried not to blush. “Really, there’s not.”

“No deep, dark secrets?”

Tara decided that if she was in for a penny, she might as well be in for a pound. “Well, I’m half-demon, if that counts.”

To her credit, Quinn did no more than blink twice. “What kind of demon?”

“I have no idea. My mom never told me.”

“Mystery dad?”

“Something like that. I didn’t know until recently that the man I thought was my father wasn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“My parents are great,” Quinn explained. “I wouldn’t want to do without them.”

Tara nodded slowly. “I still miss my mom.” When their eyes met, Tara knew she wasn’t mistaking the connection between them, but she found it scary, rather than comforting.

An ordinary relationship was complicated enough; this promised to present even more difficulties.

~~~~~

Wesley wiped the sweat out of his eyes and hissed as his sore arm twinged.

“You’re out of shape.”

“We can’t all have a vampire’s ability to retain muscle and skill,” he retorted. “And if I remember correctly, you were the one who told me that translating the prophecy was the only thing I should be concentrating on.”

Spike grinned, catching the towel that Wesley threw at him. “I did, but that doesn’t mean you can let yourself go, Wes, not when trouble is coming.”

“I would hardly say that I’ve let myself go.” To prove his point, Wesley moved quickly, the stake popping out of his wrist sheathe silently. He managed to catch Spike unaware for once; the stake hovered over Spike’s heart before the vampire could so much as twitch.

Spike swallowed. “New toy?”

“You were the one who said that there’s no cheating when it’s life or death.”

“True enough.” Spike relaxed once Wesley pushed the stake back into its sheathe. “You up for a patrol tonight?”

“Where’s Buffy?”

“She needed to get some homework done, and she decided to spend some time with Dawn, and give Joyce a break, while she was at it.”

“In that case, I’d be happy to go. I believe Willow said something about a test that she had to study for.”

Spike handed him a bottle of water, which Wesley took willingly. “Midterms are coming, along with the holiday season.” He gave Wesley a sly look. “I suppose you won’t be going home this year either.”

“I think you can safely assume that.”

“Have you heard from your father?”

“No, but I hadn’t expected to.”

“And your mum?”

Wesley sighed. His relationship with his mother had always been a tenuous one. Perhaps because he’d been an only child, and therefore his father’s only legacy, she had always deferred to Roger. She hadn’t trained to be a Watcher; her parents had thought her temperamentally unsuited for the role.

“Nothing has changed,” Wesley finally said. “If my father has asked her to cut off contact with me, or if he discourages her from making contact, I won’t hear from her.”

“And you won’t be the first to call.”

“Travers put a bloody geas on you, Spike.” Wesley knew that the Council’s actions had angered the vampire, and the others, but he’d felt both betrayal and shame.

Betrayal, because he somehow knew that his father had been involved; shame, because he had once been a part of that sort of thing.

Spike clasped his shoulder. “Sometimes the past is better left behind.”

“Indeed.” He took a deep breath. “I suppose that it’s remotely possible that my father will contact me once Travers has seen my translation of the Council’s version of the prophecy. If he does, I’ll let you know.”

It was a promise Wesley didn’t expect to be called on to keep. Roger Wyndham-Pryce had made it very clear that he was washing his hands of his rebellious offspring unless Wesley toed his line.

And those days were long past.

~~~~~

“Well?” Travers looked at Roger from across his cup of tea, sipping slowly. They were seated in his personal study, planning their next move.

Roger put down the sheaf of papers that Quinn had faxed. “For all of his faults, my son is a skilled linguist. This is an excellent translation, and it clears up several points on which our people were confused.”

“Those points being?”

“The prophecy definitely refers to blood, which would indicate that the key is a person, not a thing.”

Travers raised an eyebrow. “I had thought that the key was pure energy. That can’t be contained in a human form.”

“Not forever, no,” Roger agreed. “And it’s entirely possible that the person—whomever it may be—retains some of the attributes of the key.”

“Very well. Do you think the vampire knows who it may be?”

“Unknown. The geas we placed on him should force his hand at some point, but perhaps he’s unaware of who the key may be. He was to bring it to us when he was certain.”

Travers’ eyes narrowed. “Perhaps, but I don’t trust it. I’d rather have another plan in place to ensure that it’s brought here. The power—if we could harness it—”

“And Ms. O’Mara? I thought she was your second plan.”

“Ms. O’Mara cannot be completely trusted. She is rather too like her parents; you know how they are.”

“Independent and willful.” Roger sniffed. “And the new Slayer?”

“Doing well, although I doubt she’ll last the year.” Travers dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “With luck, the next Slayer will be someone more malleable.”

“You could have assigned her to different Watchers,” Roger pointed out.

“The outcry would have been too great.” Travers did not like the fact that he wasn’t in complete control of every Council faction, but he was a master manipulator, and he had every intention of ensuring that the outcome was to his liking. “She had been trained by her parents since being identified. It would go against tradition to remove her once she was Called.”

Travers pushed the rather intractable O’Maras out of his mind. “Now, tell me. What have you discovered on the Knights of Byzantium?”

Roger smiled. “Their goal is to find and destroy the key. I believe they might be persuaded to work with us, provided that we do not reveal our true intentions.”

“Good. Make contact and do what you can to ensure their cooperation. We can at least point them in the right direction now that we know for certain that the key will appear in Sunnydale.” Travers smiled thinly. “I would imagine that Ms. Summers and the vampire will be just a bit distracted, which will allow us to take exactly what we want.”

~~~~~

Buffy stepped aside to allow Willow and Tara entrance. “Thanks for coming over, guys. You know how I am with history.”

“Where’s your mom?” Tara asked.

“Out with Giles,” Buffy replied. “I thought it was only fair that they get a night off, since I’m the one responsible for—you know.”

Willow knew exactly what Buffy meant, and she followed her friend to the kitchen, where Dawn was already doing homework. “How’s it going, Dawnie?”

The girl shrugged. “Okay. Algebra is so not my thing, though.”

“Here, let me see.” She sat down next to the teen, reading the problem.

“Where’s Spike?” Tara asked.

“Patrol.” The expression on Buffy’s face clearly indicated that she didn’t want to say more in front of Dawn.

Dawn glared at Buffy. “I think I should know what’s going on.”

“There’s nothing going on, Dawnie.”

“Yes, there is.”

“No, really, there’s not. Spike and Wesley are going on patrol, that’s it.”

Willow met Tara’s eyes, wondering if the other woman had noticed that Buffy and Dawn really did sound like siblings. From Tara’s half-smile, she’d noticed.

“What about Glory?” Dawn challenged.

Buffy glared at her. “How do you know about Glory?”

Dawn immediately looked guilty. “Uh, you told me.”

“No, I didn’t.” Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “Have you been eavesdropping?”

“How else was I supposed to find out what was going on?”

“Okay!” Willow said, inserting herself into the middle of the argument, even though she knew it might be a bad idea. “Fighting about it is not going to help.”

Buffy let out a breath. “You’re right, Will. Dawn, we’re going to take care of Glory. That’s our job, remember? Your job is to stay out of trouble.”

“How am I supposed to do that when I don’t know what kind of trouble to expect?”

Tara unsuccessfully tried to stifle her snickers. “She has a point, Buffy.”

“Fine.” Buffy sounded incredibly irritated. “Glory is bad news, so stay away from her. Is that clear enough for you?”

“What does she want?” Dawn pressed.

Willow saw the Slayer’s expression, and knew what was going through her head—how much of Dawn’s innocence to destroy, when she had already been exposed to so much?

“She wants to use you to destroy the world,” Buffy finally said. “Which makes it really important for you to stay away from her. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Dawn went back to her homework, much subdued, and Willow could see the regret on Buffy’s face. None of this was exactly fair, but it didn’t seem that the monks had thought about that before creating Dawn.

Then again, who had ever said that life was fair?