"You're what?" Willow's voice was riddled with so many emotions that it was difficult to tell which was taking precedence.

Xander sighed and pulled his hand away. "I've given this a lot of thought," he began, looking down. "Being here, remembering ... It's too much."

Her eyes bored into Xander. "So ... So you'd rather be somewhere else remembering? Because the remembering? Takes more than a change of scenery to stop."

"I just—"

The opening of the front door broke into Xander's explanation and they both looked up, startled.

"Hello?" called Giles.

Realizing who it was, Willow stood up and walked towards the room's entrance, catching Giles' attention. He smiled as he saw her and came forward, also smiling a greeting at Xander when he spied the young man still seated on the couch.

"Giles!" Xander exclaimed with great enthusiasm and no trace of his previous somber mood. "What remarkable timing! I applaud your entrance like you were our wacky British neighbor!" He paused for just a moment before adding, "Oh, hey, you are!"

"Yes, I expect to have the laugh track installed any day now," responded Giles offhandedly.

Willow couldn't keep from staring at Xander, wide-eyed and worried. She turned to Giles, keen to bring somebody else into her world of concern. "Xander was just—"

Leaping immediately to his feet, Xander interrupted, "I was telling Willow about how I was thinkin' of customizing my eye patch. Maybe gettin' a whole line of 'em." He gestured towards his missing eye vaguely. "You know, with the days of the week, or hey, maybe a smiley face?" Xander nodded to himself, liking the idea. "Mood patch. Could be the next big thing for the disfigured among us."

Willow wasn't sure her eyes could get wider, but they somehow managed it. She boggled at Xander, unsure of what to say when he shot her a pleading look that clearly indicated 'not now'. With a frown, Willow nodded reluctantly.

Their exchange went completely unnoticed by Giles, who was struggling with the appropriate response to Xander's comments. "Well, I-if you wanted a ... variety of-of eye patches, we could certainly, uhm, look into some design patterns and-and—"

Xander jumped in, saving Giles from the awkward situation. "Be at peace, British man," he said with a warm smile. "For the moment, I'll stick with basic black. Simple, yet elegant."

It appeared for a minute as though Giles was going to pursue the odd conversation, troubled over Xander’s glibness, but turned to Willow instead as he remembered the reason for his visit.

"I wanted to stop by and confirm our training session next week?" he queried.

"Yup," confirmed Willow brightly. "I'll be there with bells and whistles. Only, you know, not literally cuz ... noisy."

The Watcher seemed troubled by her joke. "It's extremely important that we resume a regular schedule," he persuaded. "Your power levels are still uncharted and, shall we say, unpredictable? We still don't know the full range of effects that empowering all the Slayers has had on you. It's vital that we—"

"Giles, I know," Willow broke through calmly, understanding what was at the heart of his mini-tirade. "I'm Serious Gal about this. Now with 110% more Serious. I've made a big red check in the 'Understand and Control Your Powers' column. I'm on board," she assured him.

He contemplated Willow for a moment before throwing her an embarrassed and apologetic glance. "Sorry. I seem to communicate mostly in dramatic speeches these days."

"Maybe Buffy was contagious," Xander theorized.

Giles was horrified. "Good lord. If I ever become that bad, you have my permission to beat me soundly about the head."

The response was instantaneous and filled with the hope of being able to do just that, often and in the very near future. "Could I get that in writing?" asked Xander with delight.

A flash of warning was his only answer, but behind it, Giles smiled. The comfortable familiarity of their teasing settled into the room. "How are things here? No problems?" he inquired.

Willow's eyes immediately darted to Xander, who affixed her with the same desperate expression from earlier. "Nothing we can't handle," she finally responded.

Having noticed their wordless exchange, Giles looked from one to the other, seeking further clarification but finding none. "Excellent," he said, displaying no indication that he noticed anything amiss. "And Dawn?"

"She's back on the license thing again," sighed Willow.

Giles suddenly seemed much paler.

"It's times like this that I'm thankful for my lack of depth perception. I hereby declare myself unfit for Dawnster Driving Duty," Xander announced.

"That hardly seems fair," protested Giles.

"Talk to the patch."

The Watcher rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, I suppose we'll deal with that budding apocalypse when it happens. Until then, I must be off. We brought in a new Slayer today, I want to make sure things are moving along smoothly."

Willow flapped her hands in the air at Giles, unable to contain her excitement. "Oh! Oh! Did you use the 'You have a choice' speech?" she asked, dropping her voice announcer-style. Her face was split in a thousand-watt grin. "That one's my favorite."

"Erm, yes," replied Giles quickly, feeling embarrassed all over again. Which Xander immediately recognized and capitalized on.

"I liked it better when you played the stirring music in the background. I still think you should have kept that," he smirked.

"If you're quite done mocking me..." began Giles.

Xander waved his hand in dismissal. "Oh, we'll never be done mocking you."

Giles treated Xander to his usual look of patience on the verge of being pushed too far and said his goodbyes. Willow and Xander waved happily, stopping only when the front door closed with an audible click. Immediately, Willow rounded on Xander, resolve face firmly set.

"You. Me. Talking. Now."

As the two women walked into the entrance hall of the facility, Kennedy threw her arms open to encompass all they had seen. "...Which brings us back to the foyer," she concluded. "Was it everything you hoped for?"

"And so much more," chuckled Judith with the required amount of sarcasm.

Kennedy grinned with genuine amusement. "I know it's a lot to take in," she sympathized.

"Well it's certainly not where I expected to be this time last week," Judith conceded. "I'm impressed, though. What's happened to me—to us—is so ... chaotic. But coming here, it seems like the most natural thing in the world. Slayers, Watchers," she motioned towards the room, "this place. It all feels so together."

She raised her eyebrows at Kennedy's low snigger. "Yeah, we put on a good show."

"Show?"

The senior Slayer was surprised that she'd spoken aloud. "Oh, well ... " she hesitated, uncertain of whether or not to continue, but soon shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah. I mean we got the basics down." Kennedy ticked them off on her fingers. "Place to train, place to sleep, food to eat. Giles has been working his ass off for the past few months gettin' everything semi-presentable. But there's a lot under the surface," she admitted. "Rules and stuff, boring pencil pushin' crap. I dunno, I don't bother with it all that much. I just know what Willow tells me; Giles has got her working almost as hard as him." Her face clouded briefly, but the moment passed as quickly as it had arrived. "I don't follow a lot of it, it being really dull and all, but I know they stress. Will worries a lot that it bleeds through to the newbies, so she'll be happy to hear that it doesn't."

"Willow, she's...?" prompted Judith.

Kennedy's face lit up. "She's my girl."

"Oh!" Judith exclaimed, momentarily taken aback, but quickly regaining her composure. "That's cool," she affirmed. "Is she a Watcher like Giles?"

"You'd think," the other woman grumbled, then brightened again. "But no, Willow's our resident witchy power. You have her to thank for your new lifetime of off-hours sleeping," she added with a smirk.

Judith was suitably impressed. "One person did all this?" Kennedy nodded with unabashed pride. "She must be some girl."

"That she is," Kennedy preened on Willow's behalf.

"Where's her room?" asked Judith, looking around. "Maybe I can meet her?"

"She's not here in the dorms," she explained. "We live in a house not too far from here with Xander, Dawn and, technically, Buffy. Her schedule's packed kinda tight at the moment and she's going back to school in a few days, but she'd love to meet you. I'll let her know to come find you."

"Cool," Judith remarked, collecting her thoughts. After a moment, she posed another question. "So, what's up with the Watchers? Will I be getting one?"

Kennedy leaned against a nearby doorframe, getting comfortable. "Yeah, you'll be assigned to one within a few days. You may have to share, though. There aren't enough Watchers to go around right now, but they're working on that." A short, humorless laugh escaped. "And if that doesn't work, you can always have mine."

An eyebrow snaked its way back into Judith's hairline, and she regarded Kennedy with astonishment. "You have a Watcher?"

"And I'm real thrilled about it," Kennedy replied, sarcasm unmistakable.

"But I thought you were a trainer yourself?" puzzled the younger girl.

The previous sarcasm turned quickly into bitterness. "Yeah," smirked Kennedy. "Funny how that works, huh?"

"Do the other Slayer trainers have Watchers?"

Kennedy shook her head, tossing her wild mane of hair over her shoulder. "The only other permanent trainer is Faith. And she is decidedly lacking in the Big Brother department."

"That hardly seems fair."

"Again, funny, huh?" Kennedy shifted her weight to the other foot and huffed. "Something about Faith being a Slayer for years while I've only been active for three months, yadda yadda. Whatever," she grumbled angrily.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Kennedy seemed to be having an internal conversation. She soon opened them again with a single shake of her head and smiled, her previous irritation dissipated.

"And listen to me; I'm being a brat again. I have 'get my way' issues," she explained, "in that I pretty much get like this when I don't." She shrugged, not dwelling on it too deeply. "It's a thing. I'm workin' on it." Obviously wishing to drop the whole matter, Kennedy grinned at Judith with child-like glee. "How about you and me head to the weapons room and play with lots of sharp, deadly toys?"

The other Slayer's reply was an equally delighted expression.

"It looks ... sharp," Jackie observed.

"And quite possibly deadly," said Dawn.

Brenda considered the subject carefully. "I think it's cute," she declared. Her friends affixed her with a look that promised the need for much therapy. Brenda ducked her head to escape their eyes.

"Well I do," she added, quietly but defensively.

Three sets of eyes returned to the matter at hand. Across the hallway from the lockers they were leaning against stood a group of boys, fellow students. One in particular attracted their attention. Tall and sinewy, in the way of most adolescent males, he was dressed ultra-casual in a pair of baggy, low-slung jeans, dark t-shirt and bright, unbuttoned over shirt. But what was particularly eye-catching was his hair – dyed a bright blue and gelled into a series of short spikes.

"You have to admit it's different," said Brenda, looking for the bright side.

Dawn scoffed, feeling she didn't have to admit anything at all. "He looks like a Smurf."

Her eyes not wavering from the target, Jackie inclined her head towards her friends. "Would you go out with him?"

"Oh yes," replied Brenda without hesitation.

"He has hair like a Crayola!" exclaimed Dawn incredulously, turning to Brenda with wide, 'what the hell is wrong with you?' eyes.

But Brenda was now lost in her own world. "Yeah, but have you seen him skateboard?" she asked dreamily.

Jackie and Dawn smirked at their smitten friend and rolled their eyes at the hopelessness of the situation.

The sound of the bell ringing shook all three out of their reverie, and Jackie turned to her locker, fishing out a textbook from deep within its depths. She slammed the door shut and turned back, just in time to see the boy in question walking past. All three girls followed his movement, something that didn't fail to escape his notice. He smirked slightly to himself and nodded at them congenially.

"Hey," he said, calm and cool.

"Hey," the girls echoed, just as cool. They remained aloof and disinterested until he was safely out of range. Then all three moved, as one, to lean further into the hall and watch his departure. When he was completely out of sight, they snapped back into action, as though never having been distracted.

"And 'Grip'," Dawn spat with a disgusted tone. "What kind of name is 'Grip'?" She spun on her heel and walked in the opposite direction, Jackie and Brenda following.

Brenda explained. "It's short for 'Agrippa'. His father's like a big Roman history professor at Penn State."

Dawn wouldn't be placated. "It's a verb. That's just wrong."

"Yeah, we can't all be named after a time of day," noted Jackie.

Dawn glared.

"Plus," added Brenda, "your sister's name is 'Buffy'. I hardly think you're in a position to judge."

"Well whatever," Dawn quickly dismissed. "He just seems weird, that's all I'm saying."

Her friend's eyebrow twitched. "UH-huh," drawled Jackie knowingly, causing Dawn to once again roll her eyes dramatically.

Brenda glanced nervously from one to the next. "So," she cut in with great exuberance before things could escalate, "you guys wanna come over to my place for dinner tonight?"

"I'm in," Jackie agreed without much consideration. "My mom's on this weird sauerkraut kick. Very disturbing. I'm anxious for any chance to escape."

Dawn nodded to Brenda. "Sounds good. Lemme just check in."

The three friends stopped outside one of the buildings as Dawn reached into her purse for her cell phone. She moved a few paces away from Brenda and Jackie, who were chatting, and called up a number on speed dial. She put the phone to her ear and waited a few seconds for someone to pick up.

"Hey, Willow? Brenda invited me and Jackie over for dinner, can I go?" Dawn paused for a minute, listening. "Hang on a sec," she replied, and then turned back to her friends. "Can one of you guys drive me home after?" Jackie nodded and Dawn flashed her a grateful smile before returning to the phone. "Yeah, Jackie'll bring me home. She actually has her license," Dawn couldn't help adding with amusement. She listened for another moment and then laughed. "Okay, okay, observe me stopping." Another pause. "Cool, thanks. I'll see you guys later tonight. Love you."

"Love you too," Willow said into the phone. She returned it to its cradle and focused on Xander, now seated on one end of the couch. "That was Dawn," she explained, sitting next to him. "She's going to Brenda's for dinner."

"And here I was all ready to finally reveal the 'surprise' in my tuna surprise," remarked Xander with a rueful shake of his head. "Ahh well, ya schmooze, ya lose."

The tone in Willow's voice was unmistakable. "Xander..." she warned.

It worked. Xander was instantly the very picture of seriousness. "I don't know what else to say, Will. I know it seems sudden—"

Willow immediately became agitated. "Seems sudden? One minute we're discussing the finer points of daytime television, then I leave for a little bit and when I come back you say you're going away!"

"—but it's really not," he finished as though she had never interrupted. "I've been thinking about this for a while now." Xander paused, trying to find the words. "There's nothing here for me," he finally added.

Becoming alarmed as Willow’s face crumpled, he realized what he'd just said. He reached out and took one of her hands, holding it gently between both of his own.

"I didn't mean it like that. I mean ... You and Giles, you're doin' the really important work – all the hard bureaucratic stuff that puts me to sleep within seconds." He let Willow's hand go and gestured vaguely over his shoulder. "I can't effectively train our platoon of Super Soldiers like Kennedy and Faith. My aversion to tweed rules me out as a Watcher. I can't be a recruiter because I'm so damned bitter that all I want to tell these girls is to run for their lives and never look back. Hell, even Andrew contributes more to the workings of this place than I do." He peered at the redhead intently, heavily emphasizing his words. "I'm less useful than Andrew. Say it to yourself and feel the pathetic."

"You are not pathetic," defended Willow vehemently. "I-If it weren't for you, we'd still be up to our eyeballs in hairy, flabby construction guys. And, ew? Huge 'ew' factor. But-but you stepped right up and whipped 'em all into shape and now look at how big and pretty and to-code Slayer Central is." When Xander failed to look convinced, she continued. "Plus, you build stuff and fix stuff and do all those impressive things with tools with intimidating names like- like 'nibbler' and 'lathe' and ... 'hammer'." She frowned at the last one, but soon regained her momentum. "I mean, you said it yourself this morning, how many times have you had to save the mailbox from a Dawn-related disaster?"

"I'm handy with a glue gun, sure," Xander relented, waving it away contemptuously, "but I don't do anything that nobody else could do by reading a safety booklet. You could go out there, get married to any generic man, and he could do what I do." He stopped, noticing Willow's 'I don't think so' look. "You know, if you wanted," he amended before adding as an afterthought, "I suppose Kennedy could count. I can see her wearing my tool belt."

Xander shook his head as his mood darkened again. "But it's not just that. Everything here feels so ..." He gazed at Willow, wanting desperately for her to understand. "There's no connection. Don't you feel it?"

Willow smiled sadly as she nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I kinda do. I mean we grew up in Sunnydale. We spent our whole lives there. To everyone else, it was just another place. But to us, it was home."

"Be it ever so Hellmouthy."

"No more Bronze. No more Expresso Pump. No more Stevenson Hall."

"No more Alpert crypt. No more Sunnydale High, not even charred. No more Revello Drive."

The two best friends sat in comfortable silence for a while, each lost in their thoughts. When Willow spoke again, it was softly and with sad understanding.

"What sparked it off?" she asked Xander.

His head dropped as he looked away, seeming just a little angry with himself. "It was the stupidest thing. I was flippin' channels and CNN had a commercial for 'Moneyline'." He paused and turned to Willow, his face full of remorse. "She never missed it," he reflected, his voice hoarse. "Even with all the fear and the dying and the übervamps, she never missed a single episode."

"The smells get me the hardest," commiserated Willow. "When I least expect it, there'll be just this right combination of scents. Like ... like rain and jasmine and magick."

Another silence blanketed the room, sadder but filled with mutual understanding.

"There's no connection here, you're right," Willow reluctantly agreed, "but I think there can be if we let it. But that's gonna take time. You have to give it time," she implored Xander.

He didn't answer straight away. "Will it ever stop hurting?" he eventually managed to get out, unable to look at Willow directly.

She considered his question very carefully. "Completely? I hope not. I think the day that happens is the day they're gone forever. But one day ... maybe not today or tomorrow or the day after ... but one day you'll wake up, remember the good times, and smile instead of cry."

Xander was finally able to meet her gaze, his eye shining with unshed tears. Willow swallowed her own before continuing, her voice strong and sincere.

"When I was at my darkest, you were there. All I wanted was to curl up and die. And, yeah, bring the rest of the world with me, but let's face it, I was projecting. The point is, you were there and you wouldn't let me. You didn't just save the world, Xander, you saved me." The corners of her lips twitched upwards, almost managing a smile. "Now stop being such a schmuck about it and let me return the favor."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Xander's face as his friend's words sunk in. He looked at Willow with undisguised affection. "I dunno about tomorrow or the day after. I can't promise the long-term. But for today?" The smile was weak, but he managed to make it stick. "Consider me unschmucked."

Willow's face brightened and she engulfed Xander in a tight embrace while he clung to her like a lifeline.

Hazel wandered through the cemetery, closely following behind Faith. It was dark and foreboding, as cemeteries often are, and the cool glow from the moon shining in a cloudless sky only seemed to heighten her tension.

"I have to say," Hazel muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as though unsure what volume level was appropriate for the situation, "I've snuck out of my house to go to some weird places before, but this?" She cast her gaze around her. "This is new."

A few paces in front, Faith shrugged. Her own voice was conversational, neither loud nor soft. "You get used to it real quick. It's almost ... comforting," she added.

"Wandering through a cemetery in the middle of the night is comforting?" asked Hazel, not bothering to disguise the skepticism in her voice.

"Well, feels a bit early for me. My prime time doesn't kick in until about midnight. But otherwise ... yeah." Faith glanced over her shoulder at Hazel for a moment before continuing to sweep the area around them while she explained. "Graveyards for the most part are predictable. You got your perfectly mowed grass, your neat little rows of tombstones. Don't matter where you go in the world, the cemeteries are all basically the same. And yet, there's still the question. What's really buried under there? What's in the shadows just waitin' for you to let your guard down? Gives it a kick," she balled her fingers into a fist which she used to punctuate her words. "Makes you feel alive."

Not for the first time, Hazel regarded Faith as though she might be just a little bit insane. "Hangin' with the dead after-hours makes you feel alive," she intoned, not making it a question. Faith nodded and shrugged. "Oh yeah, totally looking forward to understanding that one."

"Give it a while. A few patrols, you'll know what I mean."

"Goodie," replied Hazel, super-sizing the sarcasm.

They continued to move through the cemetery. Faith's posture was completely at ease, although her eyes never stopped their search of the shadows surrounding them. Hazel was considerably less comfortable, and she shivered – either from the atmosphere or the breeze that just blew past them – and she pulled her jacket closer. As the silence dragged on, she fidgeted nervously, finally giving in to the urge to break it.

"So, uhm ... You've been doing this for a while, huh?" she asked, unsure what was an appropriate social topic for this particular situation.

Faith didn't look back as she answered. "Little over five years now. Took some time off for a while, though. Needed to get my head on straight."

"And you like it?"

For the first time, Faith stopped, her whole face becoming animated as she considered Hazel. "I love it. There's nothin' in the world like Slaying." She paused, lost in thought for a moment. "I like it a little too much sometimes, but hey. We all got our quirks, right? Keeps us human," she grinned.

The younger girl wasn't able to muster the same enthusiasm. "I'm not sure I could get to like it that much. I mean," she looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers. "I'm starting to enjoy how good all this power makes me feel, but ... " Her hand dropped to the side and she turned to Faith. "I dunno. It almost feels like it's too much. Like, if I don't watch it, it could get ... bigger than me. I still feel in control, you know? But only just." Hazel gave a frustrated sigh. "I don't think I'm explaining this well."

"No, it's cool." Faith reached out and touched Hazel's arm briefly as a show of support. "I know what you mean. And it's good." At Hazel's confused look, she clarified, "I mean it's good that you're pickin' up on that." Suddenly Faith laughed, a short, acerbic sound. "Takes some of us a whole lot longer to come around."

Hazel's brow furrowed and she opened her mouth. Faith anticipated the question and spun on her heel, heading further into the cemetery. Hazel rushed to keep up, her words forgotten. "You seem like a smart kid, Haze," Faith continued. "That's good too. That'll keep you alive longer than anything else."

"If I'm so smart, how come I'm wandering around a graveyard at night with someone I just met?" chuckled Hazel.

The pair came to a stop in front of a fresh grave. Faith looked it for a moment and then smirked at Hazel, "My natural charms. You just couldn't say no." Hazel snickered, genuinely amused. "Plus don't forget," added Faith, "you needed something."

"What could I possibly need that we're going to find all the way out here?"

The girl jumped back and gasped as a hand suddenly broke through the freshly turned earth at her feet.

Faith regarded the hand with indifference while Hazel's jaw opened and closed of its own accord, her eyes wide. The Slayer turned to Hazel.

"Proof."