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An hour later, Buffy sat curled on the sofa, arms wrapped around her legs, red-eyed and staring at nothing. Dawn watched her, nervously chewing her lip. Any attempt at conversation had long since failed as Dawn had rapidly run out of possible excuses for Spike’s absence. Buffy has sunk further and further into silence, and now Dawn was getting worried - really worried. She checked her watch. Andrew had kept Angel away for an hour, as instructed, so they should be home any minute now and then… and then… what?

“Would you like a coffee? We have some of those pastries you like.”

“No. Thank you.” Buffy gave her a brief smile.

“Tea, then. Giles always said sweet hot tea was good for shock.”

“No, Really.”

“Beer? Brandy! How about brandy?”

“Dawn, I’m fine.”

No. No, you’re not… Dawn looked at her, at the pale cheeks, the lines of strain etched on her face, the brightness of tears in her eyes. “Buffy, I’m sure he’ll be back.”

“Are you?” A frown and suddenly Buffy was on her feet, frantically searching through drawers and boxes.

“Buffy?” Dawn watched her nervously.

Buffy ignored her and carried on her search. Eventually she stopped, reached down slowly and picked something out. The stake felt smooth and heavy and comfortingly familiar. She ran her fingers along its length, hefted it in her hand. “I’m going to find him,” she said calmly.

Her sudden calmness had a brittle edge that was more alarming than her obvious distress had been. Dawn stood up and took Buffy’s hand. “No! Buffy… don’t. You can’t just go charging off into the night alone.” Not like this… “Angel and Andrew will be back soon and… and then we’ll all sort something out. They may have seen him. He might even be with them. Please! Don’t go. Wait.”

Buffy turned to look at her. She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath. “You’re right.” She sat down on the sofa with a sigh, dropping the stake onto the coffee table.

Dawn sat next to her. “It’ll be OK. Really.”

“Yeah.” Dawn watched Buffy struggle for control, watched the weariness settle on her shoulders. “I should’ve kept up with the training,” she said softly. A small frown creased her forehead. “I’ve forgotten who I am.” She gave a sigh and rested her head on the back of the sofa.

In the silence, the two women waited, lost in their thoughts.


******

The sound of someone at the door brought them both to their feet. “I’m just saying – if you’d spent your whole life inside The Matrix, you wouldn’t know any different, so how do you know that what you see around you is real? And that what was out there…” Andrew was having his usual problem with the apartment lock. There was some fumbling and muttering ending in an exasperated snarl from Angel and the door finally opened.

Angel came in first, key in hand. “Because no-one, no thing, could dream up an existence this DAMN…” He turned to glare at Andrew “…STRANGE!” He growled and turned to face Dawn and Buffy. “Is he always so annoying? Do you know, the only thing he’s talked about since we left is this Matrix thing?”

“And I still say…” Andrew interrupted. A sharp look from Angel stopped him.

Angel shrugged to ease the tension in his neck then turned to Buffy. “So what’s with the long faces?”

“Spike’s disappeared.” She worked hard to keep the panic out of her voice, to keep the tone level, to hold it together.

A squeak from Andrew earned him another glare from Angel. He considered and then shrugged. “Like I said, what’s with the long faces?”

Buffy glared at him. “He went to check on the guy that you had following me.”

“Oh. He told you about that.” Angel looked abashed.

“He didn’t have to. Hello? Slayer? And while we’re on the subject, where do you get off having me followed?” The anger was so much easier to deal with than the panic.

“Well, I just… wanted to know…” Angel squirmed.

“Stalking by proxy? That is really pathetic.”

”All right, fine.” He glared at Buffy. “I'm not proud of it, but it's... I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Buffy’s face softened. “Yeah. OK. Thanks… for caring.” She gave an exasperated sigh. “But next time, pick up the phone. Is there some sort of vampire thing about not using telephones?” She shook her head. “Anyway, Spike told me these guys of yours were being killed off, and he went to check…” She caught the look on Angel's face. "What?"

"Ah." Angel looked over at Andrew. "Thing is..."

Andrew gave a sudden cry and pressed his hands to his mouth in horror. “Oh, my god! There’s blood in the street! Angel smelt it. Real blood!” The gleam of excitement faded. “Actually, it was pretty gross.”

Angel gave Andrew a long-suffering glare. “Like he said.” He turned his attention back to Dawn and Buffy. “Not Spike's, though. My guess is it’s the guy from Wolfram and Hart.”

“And now Spike has gone! Mio cuore!” Andrew clutched his hands to his chest. “Who could have done this terrible thing?”

The others looked at him in stunned silence. Buffy shook her head. “What can we do?”

“Umm… go see a movie?” Angel offered.

“Angel!”

“Oh, OK. I guess we need some help here.” Angel heaved a sigh. “And I guess I know where we need to go to get it.” He looked up nervously. “But I’m going to need backup.”

******

“Angeloos!” Ilona engulfed Angel in a hug. “So, you honour us again! Is good to see you! First we ‘ave Spike and now you!” She stepped back, smiling widely, and pressed her hands to her chest. “I am bursting with happiness! My cup, she runs over! I hear you were in Roma, and I wondered if we would maybe see you here. And here you are!” She gave a small frown. “But why are you here? I am thinking that we see you only when you have the problems, no?” She gave a throaty chuckle “Is very sad, but I think true! So, tell Ilona your problems and your problems, they are no more. You have no more problems.” She shrugged. “What are your problems?”

“Not sure it’s a problem exactly… We’ve lost Spike.”

“You ‘ave lost…?” Ilona’s smile faded. “Meaning?” Her voice was suddenly pure steel.

“Last we saw him he went to check on our man.” Angel ran a hand over his hair. “We found fresh blood. No sign of Spike.”

“Where was this?” Ilona frowned.

“Outside Buffy’s apartment.” Angel gestured to where Buffy was standing, stunned to silence and completely disregarded by Ilona.

Ilona glanced over at her. “So! You are the one about who they all talk - the famous slayer who the vampires love, no?” Ilona raised an eyebrow and looked Buffy up and down. “A ciascuno il suo…” she shrugged.

“Actually, most of them aren’t so keen, what with the pointy sticks and all.” Buffy felt an instant dislike of this woman with her superior attitude, her expensive dress and her… chest.

“And you’ve… lost… Spike.” She looked at Buffy, eyes hard. “Careless of you,” she said eventually. She shrugged and turned back to Angel. “How long?”

“Hour ago… little more…” Angel shrugged.

Ilona stared off into the distance, frowning thoughtfully. She nodded. “Va Bene. OK. Let us handle it from here.” She looked at Angel and the wide smile was back. “Ecco. You and your... little friend, you go, enjoy Roma. Is a romantic city, no? A city for lovers.” She gave Angel a suggestive smile. “So – go. Enjoy. Is always so good to see you, you know that, but now I must make the contacts, talk to some people, do the business.” She took their arms, escorting them toward the lift firmly.

“Whoa!” Buffy dug her heels in. “Wait a minute. Look, I can help…”

“No, no! There is no need,” Ilona chuckled. “Is very generous of you, but, you know, we manage very well. We need to tread with the slippered feet. I do not mean to be rude, but you know, we do things differently in this country – is not America after all! Brute force will only get your precious heads smooshed.” She frowned. “Or maybe will get Spike killed. That I will not risk.” Again the flash of steel in her voice. Angel and Buffy found themselves in the lift. “OK. We will be in touch. Now, please, relax. Sometimes you have to put your fate in a higher power.” She stepped back with a wide grin as the lift doors closed. “I'll be in touch. Ciao!”

As the lift moved downwards, Buffy turned to Angel. “Couldn’t you have done something?”

“Like what? You know, she’s right. We’re in a foreign country here, Buffy. They do things their own way. You get it wrong and it’s all Grazie, Prego, boom-boom.” He winced.

“Boom-boom?” She raised a questioning eyebrow at Angel who shrugged and opened his mouth to speak. She stopped him. “No – don’t even…” Buffy frowned at him. “So, what? We just sit around waiting?”

“Well… yes.”

“No! No way.” Buffy folded her arms over her chest and glared at Angel. “No way. I’m going to find out what’s going on.”

“OK. Starting where?” Angel glared back at her. “What are you going to do first? Where are you going to start? Who are you going to talk to? Buffy, this isn’t Sunnydale!”

“I know.” She set her lips and fought back the tears, suddenly overwhelmed by feelings of helplessness and frustration. “I know.” She turned away from Angel as the lift doors opened and strode out of the building.

******

Meanwhile, in her office, the real Ilona Costa Bianchi was very much in evidence. Gone were the wide smile and the expansive gestures; and in their place were the hard-headedness and the ruthlessness that had taken her to where she was now. The CEO of Wolfram and Hart Italy made her calls and called in her favours, and the wheels of the mighty Wolfram and Hart machine ground into action. Ilona fervently hoped it wasn’t too late. And if it was… then she had the means to make life very unpleasant for everyone involved.





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