Who's the band?" Julie's voice wavered in the noise.

They all turned in surprise to see the young, quiet girl standing just in front of the crowd, watching the musicians on the stage.

Xander blinked. "They're called 'Big Wreck'."

Buffy made a noise. "I can relate."

"Do you mind if I sit down with you guys?" Julie pulled a stool over and sat down. An uncomfortable silence followed, as no one knew what to say. Even Xander, Mr. Babble himself, found nothing in his head. They listened to the band.

"Did you find this place okay?" asked Cordelia. "They really stuck this place in a loser part of town. I'm talking the wrong side of the wrong side of the tracks."

Julie smiled weakly. "It wasn't too hard to find. I just followed the steady stream of slacker wannabes."

They all chuckled, more for the fact that Julie's eyes were clear and vibrant. Not a tinge of fear.

Buffy nodded towards the dance floor. "Those people try to mosh at the front, until they realize that there's barely enough room to do the funky wiggle."

Julie laughed. "I've got to see that." She turned to Cordelia with a mischievous grin. "I didn't think you'd be here - I thought you didn't hang around with these three."

"What? Who said that about me?" She slapped Xander in the arm. "I like hanging around with… well, it's more like we just end up at the same place… um, actually, this is my table, and they keep sitting here."

Xander rubbed his arm. "You must find that really annoying. Listen, Julie, if you see Cordelia coming down the street, believe me, you're not even safe on the sidewalk."

"Oh, that hurts, Xander. Really. I might need to find a man - not you - to give me mouth-to-mouth."

Julie grinned at Buffy and Willow. "Are they always like this, or is it his time of the month?"
Am I gettin' greedy for what's already mine?
The two friends looked incredulously at each other. Was this the same girl who talked about death like it was salvation? Who was this person sitting with them now? Willow arched an eyebrow; Buffy matched it.

Xander took Julie's hand. "Will you save me from an eternity of torment? All you have to do is dance with me."

"Only if you show me the funky wiggle."
I'll need all their ashes, won't stand in line
They left for the dance floor, with Cordelia watching them with an amused gleam in her eye.

Willow leaned close to Buffy and said, "I've never seen her like that, have you?"

She shook her head. "It's like a different girl. Less quiet, more human."

"Will you stop with the quiet thing? I've got a reputation to protect."

"Sorry, Will. But I wonder what changed between this morning and tonight."
I'll scale the wall only if you feed the rope
Xander was doing a strange, wiggly thing with his body. Julie was laughing hysterically while trying to dance to a manageable rhythm. Xander was amazed at her transformation, and found himself questioning his relationship with Cordelia yet again. If this is going to happen every time I talk to another woman, maybe I'm with the wrong woman. He watched her move, watched her eyes flit from person to person, never quite landing directly on him, but seeing everything. She's not completely changed.
But I'll slip and fall
Julie hesitated, her eyes suddenly drawing inward and for a moment, Xander thought she was going to faint. He stepped over and took her in his arms, steadying her.

"Are you all right?"

Back at the table, Cordelia coughed. "What's going on there?" Buffy and Willow turned to look.

Julie blinked. "I'm sorry. I think I was laughing too hard back there."

Xander relaxed. "Well, if you ever need anyone to sweep you off your feet, I'm in the phonebook."

She moved away from him, suddenly self-conscious. Her mind whirled.
Oh, oh my
Who ever believed and why
Julie buckled, reached for Xander's hand, found it, and pulled herself up. "I need to sit down for a minute."

Buffy came over and helped her back to the table. "What happened there? Do you need some water or something?"

Julie waved her hand distractedly. "Sure. Water. Good."

Willow moved around the table until she could look directly at the wavering young girl. Oh no. It's back.

The fear.
Oh, oh why
The dreams.

The reality.
I'm the last tonight
The demon.

Julie tore herself away from the table. "I'm sorry, I have to go. Thanks for everything."
You say I'm obsessive
She plunged into the crowd.

Willow jumped up. "It was back! The fear! Buffy!"

Buffy nodded. "I'm on it." She dove into the crowd in pursuit.
I don't wanna hear
Pushing people out of the way like annoying low-hanging tree branches, Buffy made her way to the front door of the Bronze. Finally she emerged, half-walking, half-running, out of the club. She looked both ways down the street. Nothing. She ran up to the corner. Nothing.
Overly possessive
Gone.

The girl was comfortably anonymous, walking briskly down the street like she knew there were monsters at her heels. There was only one monster this night. He drove a Buick. The engine purred quietly. The packsack slung over her shoulder chafed her skin; she kept adjusting it with a frown. This was what he loved the most, the watching, the observing before he emerged from the shadows. It was always too late for them then; they were already entangled in the web.

She increased her pace, perhaps sensing the malice just behind her and to the right. She started to pull away; the Buick grumbled. Her grip on the packsack strap tightened. He could see her back stiffen. It was time. He stopped the car.

Mary Debbins turned suddenly to face her fate, tired of the game.

"Do you mind, creep? I've got…"

The demon stepped out of the car. His eyes locked on hers.

She whimpered softly, her face showing the signs of struggle.

He loved it when they fought, reveling in the hopelessness of the effort.

She turned to run, and took one step, one long, frozen stride. Her muscles locked as the demon asserted himself.

He almost missed the days when he let them scream just once.

The daily newspaper fell into Buffy's lap, startling her. Giles' voice followed it as if on a tight leash.

"Have you seen today's headline? 'Teenage Girl Found Dead In Park'?"

Buffy snatched it up. "Julie? God, I…"

Giles put a hand on her shoulder. "Not Julie. A girl named Mary Debbins. Your age, I believe, although I've never seen her."

Buffy scanned the article. "Giles, Julie left the Bronze at around nine last night. This doesn't say when the police think Mary died."

"You think Julie is somehow responsible?"

"Giles, you've never seen those eyes. I don't think I've ever been that scared. Maybe she knows who is responsible. Like she might have seen it, wrong place at the wrong time, that kind of deal."

"Then what explains the fear? Unless she thinks that the murderer knows that she saw the crime."

"I think it's time I turn the stalking up a notch."

"Have you ever noticed that whenever Buffy's doing her thing with the kicking and the punching and the throwing and the…" Xander paused, searching for more words.

"Staking," said Oz helpfully. "Can't forget that."

"Right, the staking. Anyway, she's doing all this superhero stuff, and what are we doing? Standing around trying not to get in the way. Sometimes I feel like we're speed bumps; we're just slowing Buffy down."

Willow sighed, shifting slightly in Oz' arms. No one ever told me about the dangers of cuddling, like limbs that keep falling asleep. "But we're here to help Buffy, not be Buffy. Only Buffy can be Buffy. We have to be each other. Right?"

Xander looked around the empty lunchroom. "I hate feeling helpless, waiting for the next vampire to come along looking for some Xander candy to chew on. I want to learn how to use some of those Slayer weapons."

"What?" Willow arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah, we could be Buffy's little army. An elite force of Slayer commandos."

Willow shook her head. "You've been watching 'Walker, Texas Ranger' again, haven't you. We help in different ways."

"Different ways?" Xander smirked. "Well, let's see. You're like Obi-Wan Kenobi to Giles' Yoda. Oz, you've got the whole fangs, claws, and mondo back hair deal - no offense, man."

"Not an offense." Oz shrugged. "My personal favourite part is the snout."

"Right, and Cordelia… she's got a car. And she knows where to get coffee. So what do I do? I crack jokes and make a fool of myself. Granted, my contribution is polished and professional, but the vampires don't seem impressed. Get me something with a pointy end or a trigger and I'll give 'em something to think about."

Buffy's voice startled them all. "Is this when the theme from Rocky starts playing?"

Xander scrambled to his feet. "Buffy. You're here. And I don't see Julie anywhere. I didn't realize stalkers took smoke breaks."

Buffy stepped up to Xander and grabbed his shirt by the lapels. "Listen to me, Sly. The only thing that keeps me from tying you all down in a cellar somewhere when I've got some slayin' to do is that I expect you all to use some common sense. You know, that's when you think with your brain and not your muscles."

Xander cleared his throat. "Well, it's not like I have a lot of muscles… oh. I see."

The slayer let go of her friend's shirt. "I hope so. Worrying about the whole world isn't nearly as hard as worrying about my friends. Xander? You want something to do? Why don't you follow Julie's dad around for the next couple of days, find out what he's like. There's a definite High-Liner smell around that guy."

"He went that way."

Cordelia hit Xander in the arm. "Thanks, eagle-eye, I never would have noticed."

He rubbed his arm. "Damn those freeweights. Listen, you're driving, and I'm passengering, so it makes sense for me to watch where he goes and for you to watch where we go."

She looked at him for a moment before allowing herself a small smile. "I guess you need something to do besides look pretty."

"Ha." He sniffed. "Pretty. Really?"

She hit the brake pedal hard. "Pay attention, Xander. He just stopped around the corner."

He moved his head and squinted. "Yeah? Okay, there he is."

They watched Mr. Marshall get out of his car, pull his briefcase out from the backseat, and walk up the sidewalk to the first house on the block.

"Okay, Xander, sneak up and scope out his car."

"Me? It's just an old Buick. He's probably got everything in that briefcase."

"Once again the courage seeps out of your body like heat from an unplugged curling iron."

He turned to face his girlfriend. "And you're curiously rooted to the spot as well."

"I'm an old-fashioned girl. You're the man in this relationship - still - so get out there and do the heroic thing. I'll stay here with the getaway car."

He sighed, a familiar sound to any man who's been cornered by his own imagined machismo. "All right. Fine. Cover me." He opened the car door softly and slipped out, his eyes watching his target. Mr. Marshall was talking to an unseen person in the doorway of the first house. What was he selling, anyway? Convinced that the man's attention was fully occupied, Xander moved quickly, keeping low, trying to keep the car between him and the salesman. It occurred to him that to anyone else that happened to be going by, he must look somewhat ridiculous. Just another day in the life of Sunnydale resident and Slayer Commando Xander Harris. Of course, a gun could come in handy right about now. He could almost hear Buffy's voice then: 'A gun? You'd probably shoot your foot off.' Yeah, right. He'd only spent Halloween night as a real-life soldier. He still remembered most of all that. Mulder and Scully get to use guns, and they have to fight everything. Xander blinked. He was a step away from head-butting the Buick's rear bumper.

"Whoops," he muttered. He came out a bit from his crouch to look through the car windows. Mr. Marshall was still talking to the housewife. Okay. Let's Columbo this vehicle. He moved around to the right side of the car and peered in the rear door window.

The back seat was bare. The upholstery was beige. Xander felt like gagging. He moved up a door and looked in. The front seats were also bare.

"Man, not even AM/FM. Is that an 8-track?"

The shadow that fell across the windshield was his only warning.

"Can I help you?"

Xander stood up straight, the sweat just starting to trickle down his spine.

"Ah, I was just… admiring your car. I didn't think anyone drove these any more."

"It's a K-car."

"Yeah, I know. Classic, isn't it?" Suddenly Xander felt a growing haze in his mind. The feeling was remarkably similar to the quick moments before you fall into slumber each night, and Xander fought against something he couldn't even be sure was there. His head started to empty itself of all thoughts, even the frantic ones.

"Guh," muttered Xander, swaying slightly. Now some new thoughts, not his own, were insinuating themselves into his mind, burrowing past his defenses, looking for something Xander tried to keep hidden, and…

"Hi there," chirped Cordelia. "I couldn't help noticing you're a door-to-door salesman. What is it that you sell?"

Xander's mind cleared in a flash, and he put a hand out, using the roof of the car as support. Mr. Marshall didn't look pleased.

"Vacuum cleaners, miss. Wet-dry vacs that can root out any dirt, clean any mess, and all for pennies a day." The salesman touched his forehead. "I'm sorry, but I really must be going. Do you mind?"

Xander backed up onto the sidewalk, taking Cordelia's hand. "Nice, uh, car. Really."

Mr. Marshall grunted, offering a salesman's smile to the young couple before getting into his Buick. He drove off, leaving Xander and Cordelia standing there like statues. Once he turned the corner, Xander released the breath he had been holding.

"Whoa. That was intense. And not in a thrilling, adrenaline-rush way."

Cordy reached up and took his head in her hands. "Are you all right? What happened?"

"I don't know. He snuck up on me, I started babbling, and then… It was like a tidal wave washed over my head, and the undertow was just about to suck me in when you showed up to save the day. Thanks."

They kissed passionately for a few seconds before they broke apart, giggling.

Cordelia touched his nose. "I'm limiting myself to saving your sorry butt once a day, so let's not push your luck, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am. Can we continue this in a more secluded setting?"

"Secluded is good."

The demon watched the couple walk back to their car. So close… He was never strong enough for more than one mind. But everyone gets to be alone at some point.

Giles flipped through a thick book with a cover that had a gold-plated title: Mind Over Matter: Psychic Abilities In The Atomic Age. "Describe the feeling once more, Xander."

"It was like a… vacuum cleaner sucking out my mind. I'm talking some serious Hoover action."

"Yes, well, that helps. Really, it does."

Buffy stretched in her seat, yawning. "So what I'm figuring is that Julie's dad has got some evil psychic mojo working. Does that make him a demon?"

Giles shook his head. "Uh, not necessarily. Psychic abilities have been extensively documented throughout human history, but there is little evidence to suggest that demonic influence is involved. It is very much a human quality. After all, Buffy, one of your abilities is to sense the undead. That would be a psychic ability."

"So, he's human?" Oz asked. "How inconvenient."

"I agree," said Buffy. "I can kill demons without blinking an eye. What do I do with a human?"

"You catch him." Willow grimaced. "The old-fashioned way."

Cordelia scratched her head. "Uh, do we know how to do that?"

"Sure we do," said Xander. "I've seen 'Murder, She Wrote'." The others looked at him oddly. "Just once. I was flipping. The batteries in the remote died."

"This does explain why Julie is so wigged out all the time," said Buffy. "If she knows what her father does…"

Cordelia shuddered. "How does she sleep at night?"

Julie lay awake in her bed, watching the ceiling, seeing nothing good. She had heard her father leave a couple of hours ago. Hours? Days, more like. The branches from the tree outside her window scratched the glass, the wind rustling the leaves. The worst thing was, you couldn't get away from what was in your mind. Close your eyes, it was there. Open your eyes, it was there. She wondered whether there was any alcohol in the house. No better time to start drinking than right now.

"Well, you might want to wait a little longer."

Julie jerked upright, staring at the window. Willow was sitting on the windowsill.

"What are you doing here? My father could…"

Willow swung her legs back and forth, tapping the base of the wall with her feet. "We're looking for your father right now. I hope we find him before he finds somebody else."

Julie jumped out of bed, body shaking. "Are you insane? Who's we? What are you talking about?"

"He's out there right now, looking for another victim."

Julie sat down. Hard. Her voice was quiet and scared. "You know." Her hands, she couldn't figure out what to do with her hands, they were all flighty.

Willow came over and sat beside Julie on the bed.

"Listen, whatever he's done, it's not your fault, it never was."

Julie's heart stopped for a moment, the calm before the storm. Then she started crying, a spring flood after a winter of heavy snows. Willow put her arms around her, rocking the young girl, making soothing noises. The hitching and coughing carried on for a little while, before there wasn't anything left to shed. Finally Julie found her voice again.

"I see him. Eyes closed. Eyes open. I see his face

Willow looked into Julie's eyes, and suddenly came to a realization. "He takes his work… home, doesn't he?"

Julie shivered. "Please, I…" It was all too close, too sudden, and he could come home at any minute, and what was she doing telling this girl, this Willow,
(this friend)
this was betrayal, and the demon that lived in her father and liked to play, the demon wasn't going to like betrayal.

"You should go, you really should. If he ever found out…"

Willow grasped Julie's hands tightly. "This has to end. Quiet girls like us can't stay quiet forever. It kills us."

Julie looked up. Behind her eyes lay the memories of a thousand nights, a thousand stabs to her soul. The weight of these memories were so hard to lift up, to crawl out from under, and she struggled for her life. Sanity was just an arm's length away, a dim light in a sea of murk. It was just one decision, really, so simple to make… If she could pull herself out. Her voice shook. "You're right. It has to end. It's been long enough." Her eyes drew inward, and she winced. Long enough. Too late. But it was odd how easily the weight lifted now.

Julie stood. "We have to go."