It's Not Where You Start Out (4/17)
by Kelly Frieders
raykel2@cox.net

Genre: Drama, B/S
Rating: PG-13, nothing you wouldn't see on the show
Disclaimer: Spike's not mine. Wish he were, but my husband might object. Buffy and all the rest aren't mine, either. I'm just borrowing them from Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy for a while.

Summary: Post "The Gift." Way post "The Gift," actually. Takes place sometime the following year. There's some new interest in the Key and an old enemy is back in town. Spoilers for everything up to and including "The Gift."

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4.

Dawn sat in the kitchen alone eating cold cereal for breakfast. It was still early, likely hours before Buffy would wake up, which suited Dawn just fine. She wasn't mad at Buffy, not really, but she just didn't want to talk to her right now. She should've know that neither she nor Spike would understand. They were freaks too, only they kinda liked being freaks, so how could they possibly relate?

What she really wanted to do was talk to Lisa. She should've called her last night, but she'd been mad after things went badly with Buffy and Spike and she hadn't felt like talking to anybody, not even her best friend. Now, however, she was anxious to be able to vent with someone who might actually *get* why Dawn hated her life. Unfortunately, it was Sunday and Lisa's family went to church on Sundays, so Lisa wouldn't even be home until after noon sometime. And the prospect of sitting around the house until noon was not appealing to Dawn. Buffy probably wouldn't sleep *that* late and Dawn didn't want to run into her first, before getting to sort things out with Lisa.

She finished the last of her cereal then put the bowl in the sink. Maybe if she grabbed a quick shower she could be out of the house before Buffy woke up. She could go hang out in the park or something. In fact, if she remembered correctly, Lisa's family went to that Baptist church that was right near the park. She could wait there and catch Lisa when services were letting out, rather than waiting for her to come all the way home first. Maybe they could even grab lunch together at the Expresso Pump or something.

Pleased with her plan, Dawn went upstairs and took a hasty shower, dressed, then headed back downstairs. She was on her way out the door when she stopped. Buffy would go nuts if she just wasn't there. She'd think Dawn was pissed, had run away or some other thing. She was *always* assuming the worst. Better leave her a note so she wouldn't freak. She went back to the kitchen and wrote a hasty note letting Buffy know she'd gone to Lisa's and would be back for dinner. Sticking the note to the refrigerator with a magnet, she left the house through the back door.

----------

Finally, after two full days of watching patiently, God provided. He had missed an opportunity last night when she'd come home from her engagement early and unexpectedly alone. He'd been caught off guard, but today he had been granted a second chance. As he stood concealed in the line of trees that stood behind the house, his patience was rewarded, proof of God's mercy and forgiveness. Muttering a quick prayer of thanks, he watched as the girl came out of the back door and bounced down the steps and onto the lawn. At last the time was near; he would be able to correct what had been done to her. He would make it all right again, undoing the disaster the apostates had wrought. Smiling, he followed her, being careful to stay out of sight.

----------

It was a beautiful morning. The sun was bright and warm and it made Dawn feel a little sorry for Spike, who could never enjoy the daytime. It was weird how that never seemed to bother him. He never seemed bothered by his situation, not even in regards to Buffy. How he could be so in love with someone and not let it bother him that she didn't love him back Dawn would never understand. She only *liked* Jeff and it was killing her that he didn't like her, or at least he wasn't really interested in her as a *person.*

Dawn sighed as she approached the park. She had hoped Spike would be the one person who would understand, but instead he'd been all "get over it." It was infuriating. How exactly was she supposed to get over the fact that everything about her life was a total freak fest?

She found a bench near the edge of the park near the little Baptist church Lisa and her family attended. She could hear the lively Gospel music coming from inside. Dawn's family had never been church-goers, but she'd been a couple times with Lisa's family. She'd felt weird, not only being a non-church person but also being one of the few white people there, but mostly it was kind of fun. Lots of cool music anyway. Too bad she hadn't gotten up earlier or maybe she could have gone with them this morning. It might have taken her mind off of Jeff and being the Key and the Slayer's sister and everything.

"Excuse me, are you Dawn Summers?"

Dawn looked up to find a man dressed in a rough brown robe, like a priest or something, standing over her. He had dark hair and soft dark eyes and spoke with an accent that sounded sort of Russian. Dawn was pretty sure he wasn't from Lisa's church since she'd never seen anyone there wear robes like that.

"Who wants to know?" she asked suspiciously, some of her sister's paranoia rubbing off on her.

The man smiled warmly and sat down on the other end of the bench. "Forgive me, I was so pleased to find you I forgot my manners. My name is Brother Ondrih. I am a monk from the Order of Ochrana in Czechoslovakia. You are familiar with us, no?"

Dawn shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I understood that you knew the truth. About your origins."

Dawn's eyes widened and she involuntarily slid back on the bench away from the monk. "Y-you made me! You made me from the Key!"

He smiled kindly. "Yes, it was some of the brethren from my order who created you."

Dawn stood up, backing away. "What do you want?"

"Dear child, please do not be frightened. I do not wish to hurt you. I wish only to correct what has been done to you."

This stopped her backwards movement. "Correct what has been done to me? What do you mean?"

"I wish to return you to normal. I wish to remove the Key."

----------

"So how did it go last night?"

Buffy settled the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she dug out the last scoop of Cherry Garcia left over from last night.

"Not good, Will," she replied. "Dawn's pretty upset."

"Dawn?" There was a slight pause from the other end of the phone. "Why? He didn't take off, did he?"

"No. It was Dawn who left actually. She thought he wasn't interested in her, just all the weird stuff in her life. Like he was a wannabe or something. Kept asking her about me and vampires and stuff instead of being interested in *her* as a person, you know?"

There was another pause, longer this time. "Buffy, are we having the same conversation?"

Buffy frowned. "We're talking about Dawn's date, right?"

"Okay, now this is kinda making sense. I was talking about Spike. Your conversation with him last night."

Buffy threw her head back and groaned. "Oh damn. No, we never did talk."

"You chickened out, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't," Buffy answered defensively. "I was actually just about to tell him when Dawn came home early from her date. She was pretty upset so we talked with her for a bit, she stormed off, then Spike went out patrolling alone."

"Oh no, Dawnie's date didn't go well?" Willow asked.

"No, it didn't. Like I said, he kept going on about vampires and stuff and she got mad and left. He's got her back on the 'I'm not a real person' track." Buffy sighed. "I thought she'd finally gotten used to it, you know? Now this."

"I'm sorry, Buffy. Hey, I could do a spell on him. Something involving pus-filled lesions?"

Buffy made a face. "Okay, *that* was gross. You looking for another invite from D'Hoffryn to do Anya's old vengeance demon job?"

"Okay, okay. Sorry. I just hate to think that someone hurt Dawn."

"You and me both. And if Spike didn't have a chip Jeff would be vampire food right about now."

"Which brings me back to my original topic," Willow prodded.

Buffy sighed. "I know, Will, I know. I still need to talk to him. And I will, okay? I just gotta get the Dawn boyfriend crisis straightened out first.

She head the front door open and Dawn's voice calling her name.

"In the kitchen!" she shouted back, covering the mouthpiece of the phone with her hand. Then into the phone she said, "Speaking of which, she's home. I'll talk to you later, Will."

"Okay, bye Buffy."

Buffy hung up the phone as Dawn came rushing into the kitchen. Buffy was surprised to see that instead of looking down or sullen she looked excited. Could one talk with Lisa have done this much good?

"Buffy! There you are! You aren't going to believe what happened today!" She was practically bouncing up and down, looking even more excited than she had at the Bronze on Friday night when Jeff first asked her out.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Buffy prompted.

"I met one of the monks that made me out of the Key. He wants to do a spell on me that would separate us. He would remove the Key completely and I could just be a regular person!"

Buffy frowned as warning bells went off in her head. "Okay, hold on a sec Dawn. Start from the beginning."

Dawn sat down across from Buffy, her enthusiasm unabated. "I went to the park to kind of chill, maybe catch Lisa after church. I was just sitting there and this guy comes up to me. His name is Brother Ondrih and he's one of the monks who was protecting the Key. Order of Okna or something like that. Anyway, he told me that he could make me normal again, remove the Key."

"And how would he do that?"

Dawn shrugged. "A spell of some kind. He told me it was kinda hard but that it would be completely painless. He and a couple other monks would put me in a circle with candles, you know, the same kind of stuff Willow and Tara do."

"I don't know, Dawn, I don't like the sound of this. First of all, I thought Glory killed all the monks that were protecting the Key. How do you know this guy is really who he says he is?"

Dawn folded her arms. "I don't know, maybe it was the brown robe? Buffy, he's on the level. I mean, if he wasn't, he could've just grabbed me and run, right? But he didn't. He told me to think about it, talk to you, and he'd be in touch. He was really nice, kinda cute, too. He said that not all the guys from his order were there when they made me and when Glory went after them. They had some sort of disagreement, I guess. He said some of them thought the Slayer should protect the Key and the others, the ones Brother Ondrih was with, thought there were better ways. But when Glory showed up, the one group panicked and did the ritual to make me anyway. It took the others this long to find out exactly what had happened and Brother Ondrih said he feels really bad that I got used this way. He wants to remove the Key and take it back to Czechoslovakia." She paused to catch her breath. "Czechoslovakia, Buffy! That is like the other side of the *world* from Sunnydale! I could be Key-free! I could be normal again."

Buffy started to remind her that she was never normal to begin with, but decided that was the wrong thing to say. But this whole thing sounded very dicey to her. "I don't know, Dawn, this sounds really weird to me. How do we know if it's even possible, to remove the Key from you without hurting you? And if he's so interested in helping you, why didn't he come to the house and talk to both of us? Why did he approach you in the park and how did he find you there anyway? Was he following you?"

"I *knew* you'd be negative about this!" Dawn cried. "This is only the thing I want most in the world, do you even get that?"

"I get that, Dawn," Buffy replied, trying to keep her temper in check, "and I'm not being negative. I just think we need to think about this before we do anything. Let's talk with Willow and Tara, maybe Anya too--"

"Why, so you can *all* gang up on me?"

"No," Buffy said, "because they all know a lot about spells. We could all meet with this guy and make sure he's on the level. If he is, then he wouldn't mind Willow and Tara and Anya coming along."

"He's a *monk,* Buffy. They're not usually big on Witches and ex-demons."

"I don't care, Dawn! I mean you don't really think I'm gonna let some stranger do a spell on you without knowing exactly what it is and how it works, do you?"

Dawn jumped up from her seat. "It's my life, not yours! It isn't your decision to make!"

Buffy rose from her seat as well. "YES, it IS," she replied coldly, losing all patience. "I am *responsible* for you, Dawn. Like it or not, you're stuck with it."

Dawn glared at her. "I could always go live with Dad."

"Oh, now *there's* a brilliant suggestion! Dad doesn't *want* us, Dawn. He doesn't give a damn about us! And even if he did, he doesn't even know about *any* of this stuff. You think Dad's gonna say, 'sure Dawn, go and have some monk perform a de-Keying spell on you.' It would take a month just to explain to him what the hell the Key is in the first place!"

Dawn put her hands on her hips and stared at Buffy angrily. "It isn't enough that it's your fault I'm like this in the first place. Now you have to ruin my ONE SHOT at having a real life. Thank you *very* much, Buffy." Turning on her heel she stormed out of the kitchen through the dining room. Buffy followed.

Dawn!" she called out, but her sister wouldn't stop. She rounded the corner and Buffy heard her slam open the front door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Buffy called as she reached the doorway. Dawn was already halfway down the sidewalk to the street.

"I'm going to Lisa's!" she called back without stopping.

"No, you're not!"

Dawn stopped. "What are you gonna do, *slay* me?" Then she turned and kept walking.

Buffy paused, unsure what to do. She could catch her sister easily and could force her to return back home. But then what? Would that help? Would that make any difference? She remembered when her mom had freaked when she'd first found out Buffy was the Slayer. Buffy had started leaving, off to save the world -- *again* -- and her mom had threatened her, telling her that if she walked out the door not to bother coming back. Had that stopped her? Of course not. Would threats stop Dawn? Not likely.

Buffy slammed her fist on the door in frustration. God, she missed her mom. She closed the door, then went back to the kitchen and picked up the phone, dialing Lisa's number. Lisa's mom answered.

"Mrs. Johnson? Hi, this is Buffy Summers."

"Hello, Buffy, how are you?"

"Well, actually, uh, could you do me a big favor? Dawn and I just had a fight and she left to go to your house. Can you call me when she gets there? I just want to make sure she's really going where she said she is."

"Sure, honey. Want me to send her home?"

"No," Buffy replied, "that's okay. I just want to make sure I know where she is."

----------

Spike sat in his easy chair in his dark flat, the piece of parchment Ethan Rayne's had given him held lightly in his fingers. He wasn't reading it; almost didn't need to. He'd read it over so many times since Friday night that he practically had the thing memorized.

Of course it wouldn't work. It obviously was very incomplete; Rayne would've been beyond stupid to give him the whole spell. But what was there looked possible. Not that he was a Witch or had any real depth of magical knowledge. However, a fella didn't spend almost a century and a quarter in the presence of all manner of supernatural beings without picking up a pretty decent basic understanding of spells and how they worked. He knew enough to know a real spell from a bad chemistry experiment, and this one looked real enough. So if that was the case, then the whole spell must exist *somewhere.* And here Spike was, living beneath what was easily the most comprehensive collection of books on demonology and spells in the whole bleeding region. And he with nothing to do those long hours between closing and sunrise.

He tapped the paper on the arm of his chair. The real question was, why should he bother? What would he do if he *did* find the spell, or one like it? It was a bloody certainty that the lovewiccas wouldn't do the spell for him. Of course, he could always find some less scrupulous ones, ones like that Rayne pillock, and pay them to do it for him. L.A. would be crawling with that type and it would probably cost him a few bob less than five hundred dollars, too. He'd have to avoid Angel's territory if he went that route, but that should be easy enough. L.A. was a big city after all. And he had the money, too. The demonette pretty much paid him jack for watching the place after hours, but then again he didn't exactly have a lot of expenses. Room and utilities were free, which left paying the butcher for blood and entertainment money. Well, that and the bribe money he paid the intern at the blood bank when he was hungry for something a little richer than pig's blood. Even that wasn't much, though, and there was enough left over from the Magic Box money to squirrel away some. And of course he supplemented that with the occasional liberation of some hockable items he ran across from time to time -- though never at the Magic Box; their trust had been too hard-won for him to ever betray it by stealing from Giles and Anya. So he had the cash, and with a little patience and determination he could likely find the spell and a Witch to perform it and presto, no chip. The real question was, would he do it?

The quick answer, the one that seemed most natural to him was hell yes he would do it! After well over two years of being completely -- well, let's call a spade a spade -- *impotent,* he could be free again. No pain, no fetters, nothing keeping him from being the vampire he was.

Nothing but Buffy.

But why should he let *her* stop him anyway? It was a foregone conclusion she'd never love him, not really. She had befriended him, she even felt attracted to him, but she would never love him. And it was doubtful whether she'd trust him at all without the chip in his brain. So what was the point?

The point was *he* loved *her.* The fact that she didn't return his love was irrelevant. It was pathetic, and he knew it, but there it was. Loving her had changed him. Or maybe he'd been able to love her because he'd changed. Didn't really matter. He loved her and he liked loving her. He liked his life and had no interest in being the vampire he once was. The last time he'd even seriously tried was last year when Drusilla had come back looking to reconcile with him. She'd convinced him that the chip didn't mean anything, that he was still the same Big Bad. He'd wanted so badly to believe her, too. They'd gone to the Bronze and Dru had pointed out a couple making out upstairs. He could remember how excited he'd been, almost delirious with hunger. It had been a year since he'd fed out of something other than a plastic bag and he remembered his mouth practically watering in anticipation. They'd gone upstairs and he'd let Dru outpace him and reach the couple first. They were so into each other they never saw her coming. With brutal precision she'd yanked the girl away, snapped her neck, and tossed her to Spike. She'd then fed off the bloke and for the first time since he'd known her -- since she'd *made* him what he was -- he was repulsed by her. Once watching her kill had been a thing of immeasurable beauty; she was like poetry. Now it was nothing other than ugly. Unthinkable, that a vampire should feel that way! However, the girl in his arms, so freshly killed her heart was still beating, had made him so ravenous that he'd fed anyway, letting himself become the very thing that was so ugly in Dru. It was the last time he'd fed off a human, the last time he ever wanted to. But god it had been a nearly rapturous experience. He tapped the paper on the arm of the chair harder, his hand suddenly filled with nervous energy at the memory. He'd turned his back on Dru later that night, turned his back on everything she stood for as well. But the hunger, the hunger would always remain. Which begged the question, if he was done with the Big Bad thing, if he really didn't want to go there again, why even consider the spell? Why face a world of temptation, a world he once described as teaming with six hundred billion people, all Happy Meals with legs?

And yet here he was, holding an incomplete spell in his hands, planning ways to find the complete spell and have it cast upon him. He should just throw the thing away, forget the whole sodding business. And yet--

There was a knock on his door and Spike jumped. Quickly he slid the piece of paper into his pocket then flipped on the telly as if he'd been watching it. "Yeah?" he called out.

The door opened and Xander poked his head in. "Hey evil undead. You wanna give me a hand upstairs? Anya's been bugging me to fix the fan in Buffy's training room and I could use some help."

"It's Sunday, lackbrain. I thought we got Sundays off," Spike grumbled, but he rose from his chair and joined Xander anyway.

"Yeah right, like I *ever* get a day off," Xander replied.

"Don't see how that's *my* problem. You're the one who's marrying her, not me."

"No, but if I'm gonna spend my Sunday afternoon fixing stuff then I'm at least owed the fun of making *you* miserable."

Spike glowered at him by way of response.

The Magic Box was closed on Sundays, a concession Anya had made to Xander, who'd insisted that she needed to take at least one day a week off from work. After Giles had sold her half the business and gone back to England, she'd refused to leave its management in anyone else's hands, even one day a week, so Xander insisted that they close on Sundays so she could take a break. She'd pointed out that when the store was closed she wasn't making any money, and next to having sex, Anya liked making money more than anything. Xander had won that battle, but it hadn't really turned into a real day off. Most Sundays not only were Anya and Xander there, the other Scoobies were often found hanging about. Today was no different, Spike noticed as he and Xander emerged from the basement. Tara was sitting in the little reading nook near the basement door, studying, and a notebook and a few books were scattered next to her in front of an empty chair with a fuzzy purple sweater draped over its back, meaning Willow was probably holed up in the stacks somewhere. Anya was at the counter, pouring over records of some sort. Receipts, knowing her. Buffy was missing, he noted with a little disappointment as they crossed the store and entered the training room, but she rarely took a day off from working out back here, so she'd likely be along later. He wondered if Dawn was feeling any better after her bad date, or if perhaps she was the reason Buffy wasn't here.

Xander pointed out the fan that needed repairing and Spike helped him drag over a ladder. The work went quickly, and Spike had to grudgingly admit that the whelp had become quite the skilled carpenter, builder, and all-around handyman.  They were just finishing up when they heard Buffy enter, using her key to come in through the back door near the workout room.

"Hey, it's the Buffster!" Xander called down amiably from the ladder.

"Hey Xander!" Buffy called back, poking her head into the training room. She sounded a little weary.

"What's wrong?" Spike asked, walking towards her. "Little bit still upset about that stupid wanker?"

"Oh, we're past that upset and into a whole new world of upset," Buffy grumbled. She headed into the front part of the store, Spike trailing behind.

"Uh, a little help putting the ladder away?" Xander called out, but Spike ignored him.

Buffy flopped down in a chair at the big table they usually used for research and Spike sat down across from her.

"Hi Buffy!" Willow called down from the loft above where, as Spike had guessed, she had been pouring through spell books.

"Hi Willow," Buffy replied, then looked at Spike. "You wouldn't *believe* what happened today." Spike just looked at her expectantly. "Someone claiming to be one of the monks who made her into the Key approached her today when she was in the park."

Spike's back stiffened. "What!"

"You're kidding!" Willow added as she came down the ladder and sat down on the bottom step right next to the table, a heavy spell book in her lap. "I thought Glory destroyed them all."

"So did I," Buffy answered.

"What happened, is Dawn all right?" Spike asked, alarms going off in his head.

"She's fine, just really pissed at me."

"At you? Why?" Willow questioned.

Buffy leaned forward. "This guy, he said his name was brother Andre or something like that. He told her that he was here to help her. That he wanted to take the Key out of her and make her normal."

Spike frowned. "That even possible?"

"I don't know," Buffy shrugged, "but I didn't like the sound of it. I certainly wasn't going to just let her go and have some stranger perform an unknown spell on her. So of course she got mad at me." She flopped back in her seat again and let out a breath in frustration. "I didn't say we couldn't look into it, I just said we'd have to check it out with you and Tara and Anya first," she said looking at Willow. "But after this disaster date last night she didn't want to hear it. She's so bent on being normal, all she heard was this guy promising he could make it happen."

"Where is she now?" Spike asked.

"She stormed off to Lisa's. I called Lisa's mom and she called me back when Dawn got there, so at least I know she didn't go off and do something stupid, but she's so mad at me. I don't know, maybe I'm just being paranoid. Maybe this monk is on the level."

"No, he's lying."

They all looked up to find Tara standing beside the table. They had been so busy talking they hadn't heard her approach from the other end of the shop. Normally quiet and sheepish, she now looked alert and concerned.

"Who's lying?" Xander asked, joining them from the training room.

"Dawn met a guy who claimed to be one of the monks who made her and he said he wants to take the Key out of her and make her normal again," Willow informed him.

"It's not possible," Tara insisted.

"How do you know?" Buffy asked, and Spike could hear the tension etched in her voice.

Tara sat down. "Humans can't just *create* life. At least not outside of the regular way."

"She means by having sexual intercourse," Anya supplied helpfully from the counter, then she added, "Only not in her case, obviously."

"Thank you for pointing that out, Anya," Xander called back to her.

Tara, however, unusually for her, was unperturbed. "Life is energy, one of the most complicated types of energy there is. Spells can't create energy, especially life energy. They can only *transfer* it. Like in a transmogrification spell."

"Or making a vampire," Spike nodded in agreement.

"Exactly," Tara said. "Vampires aren't *created,* they're *transformed* from human life to demon life, such as it is."

"And Dawn was created out of the Key," Willow said.

"Which was 'living energy,'" Buffy finished.

"Right," Tara said. "She was made *from* the Key, meaning the Key's energy was transformed into life energy, human life energy."

"But why does that mean he can't undo the spell?" Buffy asked, puzzled.

"Oh, I'm sure he *can* undo the spell," Tara corrected. "In fact, I would think that's exactly what he hopes to do. But it wouldn't have the results Dawn is hoping for." She paused, trying to sort out how to explain herself. "You can transform one kind of energy into another, but you can't then *remove* the energy from the thing you transformed it into and have both still exist as complete entities. It would be like... like trying to remove Amy out of the rat."

Spike frowned, trying to puzzle out that one, until he remembered the rat Willow kept in her dorm room. If he was remembering the story correctly, the rat was actually a Witch named Amy who had transmogrified herself into a rat to escape a mob on a literal witch hunt. Willow had kept the rat, hoping to find a spell that would turn her back into a human.

"We can find a way to turn the rat back into Amy," Tara continued, "but we couldn't *remove* Amy from the rat and still have a rat left. They're one and the same, the same life energy. Either she's a human or a rat; not both."

Buffy's eyes widened in alarm as she made the connection. "So it's possible for the monks to reverse the spell and turn Dawn back into the Key, but not without Dawn, the human, ceasing to exist."

"Yes," Tara replied, relieved that she'd made her point.

"You're sure about this?"

"Yes," Tara replied confidently and Spike believed her. Though not as personally strong a Witch as Willow, Tara had a much broader background in Wicca and magic and had been practicing longer.

"Buffy, she's right," Willow agreed.

"Then this guy lied to Dawn," Buffy said.

"Blighter wants his Key back and doesn't care that he has to obliterate Dawn to get it," Spike spit, fury rising.

"Okay, we need to find this guy, see if there are any more with him. But first I want Dawn to hear this. Maybe she'll believe you guys." She rose from her seat and went over behind the counter and grabbed the telephone to call Dawn's friend's house.

"If this guy got close enough to Dawn to talk to her, why didn't he just grab her?" Xander wondered.

"Prob'ly a hell of a lot easier to do a spell on a willing participant than a captive," Spike mused. "And if he'd managed to convince Buffy, too, less risk of getting his ritual interrupted by a crossbow."

"Makes sense," Xander nodded. "Man, why can't these bastards just leave Dawn alone. Hell gods, knights, and now monks. Poor kid."

"Yeah," Willow agreed somberly, "I feel--"

"Oh my god!" Buffy cried out behind them. Spike's heart twisted in his chest as they all turned toward her. Her face had gone deadly pale and she was clutching the phone in a white-knuckled grip. "What do you mean she's gone?"

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