ENTWINED
"Port Charles" Meets "Buffy:
The Vampire Slayer"
"Hello? Yes, I was wondering how one might wire for
cable.... well, that's a bit of an interesting story, you see....
yeah, stone walls... well, everything's stone, actually.... It's
a bleedin' crypt, lady! Hello? HELLO?" The platinum blonde
vampire tossed the receiver of the phone down in frustration. So
much for that. Bloody 'can't provide service to cemeteries' crap.
A quick scan through the channels available brought Spike, the
100 plus year old vampire, to one conclusion; there was
absolutely nothing on the telly. Since the sun was out
and shining bright, he couldn't just go out for a stroll either.
So what was his other option? Watch the dust mites collect under
the furniture? Listen to the rats scamper around in the tunnels
under the floor? "Gotta love the rerun season. Wanker
network execs can't put anythin' good on."
Just then, a louder than normal "rat scratch" in the
secret passageway behind the far wall caught his attention.
"Hello, what have we here?" Spike sauntered over and
rapped on it. "Whoever you are, ya might as well come out
and show yourself. Not doin' the best job of hidin'."
Silence was his only answer.
"Oh come off it! I know you're there!" Spike cupped his
hands around his the sides of his mouth and leaned against the
wall. "Oly bloody oly oxen free!"
"Expecting someone?" A smooth as silk voice purred
behind Spike's back. The vampire whirled to face-- "Caleb?
What are you doin' in Sunnydale? Last I heard, you an' yer
brother were bound together for all eternity. So, how's that
workin' out for you?"
Caleb snarled.
"That bed, eh? Well, what can ol' Spike do ta help?"
"There's a new girl in my life, William. She's perfect in
every way."
"How nice for you." Spike rolled his eyes. What'd
he come ta do? Rub it in my face? So Dru an' I hit the skids...
doesn't have to come halfway across the country to mock me.
"Except that she refuses to give up this boy toy of hers
named Jack." Caleb continued. "With a little
persuasion, I am sure that she could be mine for all eternity.
This is where you come in, William. I need your help. There's a
spell---"
"Olivia? Thought you already killed that sweet little
number." Spike pulled out his pack of cigarettes, drew one
out, lit it, and took a long drag.
"She was the past. I've found another. She looks exactly
like the first."
"Another Olivia? What, do these girls fall offa soddin'
trees or somethin'?"
Caleb's red eyes burned in rage. "Are you going to help me,
or stay here boxed up like some neutered puppy the rest of your
eternal life?"
"'Ey! How did you hear about---" Spike stopped to
seriously consider his options. Passions will be on in a few,
and I want to see if Theresa will get out of that marriage to
Julian...... Oh, sod it. "I'm in."
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
"Caleb's dead, Livvie. He isn't coming back. You and I both
saw him turn to dust."
"But I can feel him, Jack! I can hear his voice
inside my head!" Livvie Locke broke down into tears, burying
her face in Jack's shoulder. "Oh God. I thought he would
leave us alone! That he couldn't touch us once he was dead!"
Jack Ramsey felt helpless. The relief of seeing Caleb dust before
his eyes hadn't lasted more than ten minutes before Livvie had
begun to hallucinate once again about the man whose power she had
been under for weeks. Caleb had so completely seduced Livvie,
enchanting her with his hypnotic powers, that Jack had worried
many times whether or not he would ever get his true love back.
He also feared that, should he get her back, he wouldn't be able
to completely expunge her memories of the vampire. His fears were
quite well founded, it appeared.
A sound of footsteps caused Jack to whirl, Livvie still pressed
to his chest, protectively. "Who's there?"
"Just us, Jack." Jamal Woods, and his girlfriend Alison
Barrington appeared in the doorway that connected the roof to the
rest of General Hospital. "You guys alright? When you didn't
show at the chapel, we were afraid something was wrong."
"Something is wrong, Jamal." Jack rubbed
Livvie's back.
"My god! Is she okay?" Alison approached Livvie, who
shrank back in terror.
"It's Caleb." Jack said in exasperation.
Jamal couldn't believe his ears. "CALEB? But he's
dead!"
"No. No he isn't." Jack replied forcefully. "He's
still got a hold on her somehow." He leaned down to stare
directly into Livvie's eyes. "Where is he?"
"I-I don't know. But he's calling to me, Jack!"
"Oh no. Not this again." Jamal balled his hands into
fists. It wasn't fair. This should all be far behind them now.
Another thought entered his mind. "Jack, if Caleb isn't
dead, then do you... I mean, are you..."
"I'm not a vampire anymore, Jamal. I can feel it. We both
feel it." Jack eased Livvie to the ground, where she curled
up, arms around her legs, hugging them to her chest.
"Which means he is dead..." Alison began.
"But not." Jack let out a frustrated sigh. "This
doesn't go along with anything we've learned about Caleb. That
guy at the shop said that when the lead vampire was no more,
anyone he had turned along the way would go back to normal."
"And everyone did." Jamal added. "You, Livvie,
Gabbie..."
"Then why is he still in her head? DAMNIT!
Why?!"
Livvie stared straight ahead into space as the others'
conversation buzzed around her. "Caleb...."
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
"Hogwart. Salamander eyes. Chicken feet." Willow read
off the ingredients to her girlfriend and fellow witch, Tara.
"That everything, baby?"
"Looks right. Wait. It isn't----" Tara sighed as the
glowing ring of light began to wobble uncontrollably, finally
breaking apart into nothing. "Forget that idea I
guess."
Rupert Giles, proprietor of the Magic Box magic shop as well as
Watcher for Sunnydale's one and only Vampire Slayer, Buffy
Summers, scribbled something down in his books. "So the
levitation spell--- ?"
"Shot all to--- well, you can fill in the rest of that
rhyme." Willow picked up the cylinder of yellow-green fluid
and carried it over to the sink. As she was about to pour, she
glanced over her shoulder. "Think this is safe to pour down
the drain?"
"What?" Giles had become engrossed with another group
of customers and could barely hear her over the din. "Go
ahead, then."
Ah well. Even if he didn't hear me, what could possibly go
wrong, right? The redhead poured her failed potion down the
drain. Satisfied, she turned her back and headed over to clean up
the mess she and Tara had made on the workbench. The grate over
the drain vanished in a puff of smoke.
"Giles! The Statue of Areatmug shipment just came in!"
Anya called from the backdoor. "Do you want to sign for it
or should we just charge it to UMPS again?"
"UMPS?" Tara looked up from wiping conjuring powder off
the counter.
"United Monk Postal Service? You've never heard of it.
Typical."
"C-Can't say as I have, no." Tara stuttered, quickly
turning back to her work.
Giles detached himself from the other customers and ducked back
behind the counter. "Charge it. I simply can't handle every
single personal request for my attention. People will just have
to bloody well learn to wait their turn---"
The bell rang as the front door opened for what felt like the
millionth time that afternoon.
"Whoever it is, please tend to your own needs. I have
precious little---" Giles looked up from his books, and
directly into a pair ofthe darkest, most mysterious eyes he had
ever seen.
"Rupert Giles, I presume?" A man clad completely in
black inquired. His loose-fitting shirt was unbuttoned at the
neck, black hair cut down to just below his earlobes.
Finally breaking free from the man's penetrating stare, Giles
responded with a nod. "And you would be---?"
"Caleb Morley. He's an old friend of mine who just happened
to pop into town for a visit." Spike rushed through the
front door, a blanket draped over his head like a cloak to block
out the late afternoon sun. Giles noted with a chuckle that
despite the vampire's best efforts, he was still smoking a bit as
he removed the woolen wrap from his body.
"Just popped in to---" Giles trailed off, once more
hooked on Caleb's eyes. A physical effort was required to break
free this time. Giles deliberately averted his gaze to the
counter for the remainder of the conversation. "What can I
do for your friend, Spike? Wait, here's a better question... why
would I want to help any friend of yours?"
Caleb tensed. "Insolent little---"
"Hold on there big guy." Spike slipped in between his
best friend and the Watcher. "Rupert here didn't mean a
thing by it. Just a gentle tease. A poke at the ribcage. He's
such a joker, this one is."
Tucking a few stray locks of jet black hair back behind his ears,
Caleb backed off. "Alright. Sorry for the
misunderstanding... sir." He added a edge to the last word
of his sentence.
"Just a few little doo-dads and whatsits to pick up and
we'll be out of your sight." Spike strolled over to the
shelves.
"Do hurry." Giles turned his back to his guests to
begin filing books on the shelves. He never was particularly
tickled when Spike came to call, and even less so when the
bloodsucker brought friends along for the ride. This Caleb fellow
was particularly unsettling. It was almost as if the man could
stare directly into your soul with one sideways glance. One
encounter was enough to make a man's skin crawl. How Spike could
stand the fellow was beyond Giles' comprehension.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
"Sorry about that." Spike apologized to Caleb as the
two headed back to the cemetery by way of a back alley.
The Morley vampire growled deep in his throat. "As long as
we have the proper elements for the spell now, I'm willing to
forgive and forget."
"Good for you. If not for this chip in my ol' skull, I
probably would have ripped off Rupert's head long before
now."
Caleb cocked his head a bit. "So how does it work, exactly,
this computer chip in your brain?"
"Damned if I know. All I'm certain of is that if I even
start thinkin' about bitin' a bloke, good ol' government control
stomps on my frontal lobes." Spike cringed to even think
about it.
Suddenly, Caleb doubled over, clutching at his head.
"Yeah. That's about what happens."
"SHUT UP!"
"Don't have ta get snippy. Just playin' around..."
"MICHAEL'S NOT HERE. HE'S GONE, EVE!"
"Whoa. Okay, back up the old gravy train. I'm Spike.
S-P-I-K-E." Caleb didn't respond. "Caleb?"
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
"Michael..." Eve Lambert whimpered as the time between
contractions steadily lessened. "Thank you. I only wish that
you could be here to witness my son's coming into this world.
He's safe now... and it's all because of you."
Ian Thornton leaned over his wife protectively. He still wasn't
too keen on the special connection the vampire Caleb's better
half had with Eve, but he couldn't deny that Michael had given
everything to insure the baby would be born without undead
interference. "Breathe, Eve. Keep breathing..."
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
"Breathe... keep breathing, Eve." The dark look in
Caleb's steely blue eyes softened. He was loosing hold over this
body.... Damn you, Michael! He thought before slipping
into darkness.
"You alright, Caleb? You aren't lookin' so good. I mean, you
look fabulous... you always knew how to dress to impress the
ladies, if you know what I mean." Spike fumbled. "N-not
that I'm personally attracted to you in a sexy sort of
way. I leave that type of thing for the two girl witches
and---"
"Caleb's gone, William."
The slightly softer tone to the voice tipped Spike off.
"Michael. Been a while, bloke. What's new?"
"Don't talk like we're friends. Because we're far from it.
You're a disgusting symbol of everything that's wrong with this
world."
"Ease up there, spitfire. That "symbol" is also
half of what you are." Spike chuckled, blowing a puff of
smoke directly into Michael's face.
"What did my brother come to you for?" Michael
demanded.
"Why should I tell you?"
"Because I happen to remember a certain detail about you
having this chip in your brain. Can't bite people anymore, Spike?
How sad for you." Michael lunged at Spike, pinning him to
the fence. "You can't bite me, and I can snap your neck if
you don't tell me what I need to know. Nice arrangement, if you
ask me."
Spike gagged a bit. "Rather foreword of you. What ever
happened to the gentle and cerebral Michael Morley? The guy who'd
never hurt a fly?"
"Lucky for me, you're not a fly." Michael took his
breath at slow, measured intervals. If he lost his temper, Caleb
would have an open invitation to come and take their body over
again. "So help me, if Caleb's going to do something to Eve
and her baby..."
"Still having to explain where I have no idea who this 'Eve'
character is. All Caleb mentioned was Olivia, alright?"
Spike vented.
Michael dropped Spike in a heap. "He isn't giving up, then.
Dear God, help Livvie, and Jack, and everyone else in Port
Charles."
As Michael rolled on with his list of prayers, Spike got up
slowly, rubbing his bruised neck. "It would be nice if I
knew what in bleedin' hell you were talkin' about."
"Caleb never should have brought you into this. There's no
reason to tell you any more than you already know."
"Oh bloody hell..." Spike, face to face with Michael,
could see over the priest's shoulder. "We're goin' back to
the crypt... now!"
"What..? What could possibly have you scared like
that?" Michael chuckled.
"One word, mate. Slayer. Ever heard of her?" Spike
turned on his heel and took off for the far end of the cemetary.
Michael was left scratching his head. "The Slayer. Lucy?
Lucy Covich? What's she doing in Sunnydale?" He reluctantly
followed Spike, none to eager to have her find him in this state.
Before he was to even approach another person, he had to look
more like himself. Getting out of Caleb's clothes would be a
good start...
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Buffy Summers walked through the graveyard with barely a sideways
glance. It had been one hectic day of training, watching out for
Dawn, her little sister, and the usual amount of cleaning to be
done around the house. At times like this, she desperately missed
her mother, Joyce Summers, who had died nearly three months ago
due to complications from brain surgery to remove a cancerous
tumor. If her mother were still alive, Buffy could attend college
with her other friends, catch the occasional movie, and just in
general, be a kid again. Granted, at 20, she wasn't a child any
longer, but she had been forced to grow up so fast that it felt
as if she had gone straight from 18 and a freshman in college to
35 and a single mother. It wasn't fair at all, but crying about
it wasn't going to change her situation. So, she dealed as best
she could, trying to find that perfect balance between the
responsibilities of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Buffy the
Sister of Dawn.
Patrol had been particularly quiet tonight, but that wasn't
necessarily a good thing. She'd spent nearly an hour crouched
near a fresh grave, to be finally rewarded with a pair of hands
slowly scratching through the dirt to the surface. It had been
the only dusting of the evening.
"What I wouldn't give for someone to talk to."
"Hey Buff!" Xander Harris popped up from behind a
nearby headstone, sipping a coke. "Chips?" He wiped his
greasy fingers on his pants before walking over to her side.
Buffy took several breaths to slow her pulse. "Xander! You do
realize that you ran the risk of getting seriously staked right
then?"
"Well, sorry Buffy, but you did say that you wanted someone
to talk to. The Xand-man is here to serve."
"How'd you escape Anya for the evening?" Buffy knew
that the 1000 year old plus ex-demon hardly ever let Xander out
of her sight.
"Uh... didn't really. She's waiting back in the car..."
He pointed to the road at the other end where a car waited,
engine idling. Anya honked the horn in greeting.
"Well, there goes the element of surprise." Buffy
sighed. "Xander, you and Anya can go home if you want. I
don't need backup tonight."
"But you were saying---"
"It's been slow, I promise. Nothing new to see here."
"No vamps?"
"One. But he was of the not-quite-ripe-yet variety."
Buffy explained. "Fresh from the ground and poof."
"Almost makes the whole you dusting him thing feel kinda
hollow, huh?"
Buffy shrugged. "I guess. I mean, dead vampire is a yay, but
I was almost hoping he'd let me chase him a little."
"Ah. Long day?"
"The longest. I don't know how much longer I can keep this
up without loosing my mind, Xander."
"Me, Anya, Giles, Willow, Tara... we're always here to help,
Buff. All you have to do is ask."
"I know. Thanks. But really, go on home and rest. Plus, I
think Anya's about to torch the inside of the car anyway."
Buffy glanced back over towards the car, where the red-headed
ex-demon was trying to figure how the cigarette lighter worked.
Xander's eyes went wide in alarm. "See ya tomorrow,
Buff!" He dashed across the cemetary to the car to save it
from imminent flamey doom.
Buffy went back to her slow circuit of the graveyard, stopping
every few feet to glance around. Back to the deafening
silence and shadowy fun...
A rustle in the bushes finally met Buffy's ears. Even if it was
just a stray cat, it would be something to break up the boredom.
A sneeze quickly alerted her to the fact that it wasn't your run
of the mill feline. "Xander? Thought I told you to go
home?" No answer. "Okay, whoever you are, get out here
and fight."
"Fight?" The owner of the sneeze emerged from behind
the shrubbery. "I don't want a fight. Just passing through,
Miss---"
Buffy took in the man's appearance. He wore a black pair of
pants, gray T-shirt hanging down over the waistline with a black
zip-up fleece over the T-shirt to guard against the chill of late
evening. His face was the most intriguing, however. His hair was
slicked back, a little stubble growing on his chin, and
wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose framed a mysterious pair
of eyes. There was some secret in their depths, but for the life
of her, Buffy couldn't surmise what it was. "You first. Who
are you?" Buffy asked defensively.
"Michael Morley. I was just passing through---"
"At 1am?"
Michael came up with the only excuse he could that made any
semblance of sense. "I was paying my respects to a friend.
I'm a priest."
Buffy cocked her head, nodding slowly, indicating that she bought
this explanation. "Well, Father Michael, be careful around
here. Never know what kind of crazy people live in the
shadows."
"What about you?"
"What about me?" Buffy countered.
"Who are you, and what are you doing out
here at 1am?"
Buffy prepared the speech that she had given since she was 15
years old and someone caught her out on patrol. "I'm
collecting samples for a science exp---" She stopped. Those
eyes again. In that moment, she realized that she couldn't lie to
this man. "I'm hunting."
"Hunting?"
"Vampires. I'm the Slayer. My name's Buffy Summers."
Buffy supplied every bit of information without truly grasping
what she was saying. She was overwhelmed with a knowledge that
she could trust this man. She'd never put much trust in a higher
power, but this priest almost made her believe that good could
conquer evil simply by design. That divine providence would keep
her safe.
Michael didn't look terribly surprised, though, just a bit
confused. "The Slayer? You're a Covich, then?"
It was Buffy's turn to be confused. "No, I'm a Summers. The
only girl in this generation chosen to fight the vampires... or
something like that. If you want the whole spiel, ask my watcher,
Rupert Giles. He seems to have it memorized."
"Lucy and her family line are vampire Slayers." Michael
said, more to himself than to the young girl standing before him.
"Lucy protects Port Charles from Caleb."
"Whoa. Back up. Alright... listen, we're heading back to
this shop that Giles owns. If you don't mind, I think he'd want
to straighten you out on everything."
Michael nodded. "Lead the way. I'm as curious as you are
about this---"
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Spike awoke in the crypt to find himself bound and gagged. His
head ached as well, which meant that Michael must have knocked
him out before taking off. What in bleedin' hell is that
boy's problem?
The last thing he remembered, Michael had come inside and walked
over to the duffel bag Caleb had been holding when he made his
initial appearance to Spike. Apparently, Caleb always
carried about his brother's things. It was convenient in case of
a "personality switch", Spike supposed, but he couldn't
fathom why the vampire would accommodate his brother like that
when he so clearly despised the good that Michael represented.
Michael had pulled out a change of clothes, his glasses, and a
comb. After spending a few moments adjusting his appearance,
Michael had then turned to face Spike. That was where the
memories ended for the bleach blonde vampire. He assumed that
from there, Michael had conked him over the head with something
large and heavy in order to make his escape.
"Oh sod it." Spike muttered as he struggled with the
ropes binding his feet and hands together. No matter what, he had
to set up that separation spell. Caleb had made him swear on his
undead life that he would have it ready to go. Michael couldn't
stay on the surface forever. Eventually, Caleb would exercise his
power and push Michael under. When that happened, Spike and Caleb
would have to work quickly to complete the incantation.
"With Caleb and Michael split permanently, the fun can
really begin." Spike chuckled, finally tossing the frayed
remains of the ropes to the side.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
"This is one Slayer who is ready for some serious shut
eye." Lucy Covich flashed a good natured smile to Kevin.
During their ordeal with Caleb, she and "Doc", (as she
fondly referred to him) had grown very close. They had even
admitted to loving one another during the darkest moments when
they were afraid everyone was about to die. Through it all, Kevin
had been there for her. He'd even gone so far as to travel to
Transylvania with her to find out why Caleb was afraid of her.
The truth was still hard to swallow. It turned out that Caleb
feared her because she was highly capable of taking his undead
life. Her line, the Covich clan, were vampire Slayers by trade.
They were each endowed with special powers to dispatch with their
fangy foes. It was quite a lot to get used to, but Lucy admitted
to herself that it was better than before when she had known
nothing about her family at all.
Kevin wrapped his arms around Lucy's shoulders at that moment,
drawing her out of the trance-like state she had been in.
Tripping down memory lane tended to make a person oblivious to
the rest of the world. "Well, then, how about it?"
"It?"
"A little excursion... to bed. If you need that "shut
eye" so badly---"
Lucy smiled, but was inwardly a bit nervous. She knew that she
loved Doc, and he loved her, but they had never shared the same
bed before. "A-alright." She said hesitantly.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
It was getting on into the early hours of the morning, and the
baby hadn't come yet. Ian was getting very nervous. All the
sonograms of the baby had turned out normal. Their little boy
should be in perfect health, but he just wasn't coming. Eve's
water had broken, so there was no way that this was false labor.
"My god, Ian! What's wrong with our son?"
"Nothing. Just keep thinkin' positively. He'll be out in no
time." Ian hoped he sounded convincing, for her sake.
Inside, he was filled with doubt and frustration.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Jack sat next to Livvie on the bed in the upstairs room of the
lighthouse. He rubbed her neck, back, arms.... but nothing seemed
to lessen the tension throughout her body. She really
believes that Caleb is still out there hunting her. What am I
supposed to do to convince her otherwise?
After what felt like hours, Livvie turned to face Jack. "I'm
sorry."
"For what?"
"Everything. What I've put you through... what I've put
Jamal and Alison through.... what I've put my dad and Lucy
through..." She breathed sharply. "I'm sorry that it
can't just end. I try to ignore it, Jack, but I just can't. Caleb
is alive, and he won't give up until he has both me and
Eve's baby; the perfect family that he always wanted. The ideal
life."
Jack was at a loss for words. What else could he do for her?
"You said you could hear his voice in your head. What did he
say?"
Livvie visibly quaked as she recalled Caleb's voice, tinged with
rage and pain. "H-he said that we were joined... we were
soul mates... and nothing could change that."
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Rupert Giles considered all the information the man who called
himself Michael Morley had supplied. He was inclined to dismiss
the whole thing as sheer fantasy, but something he had read once
nibbled at the edge of his mind.
"So, what is it, Giles? Are there more Slayers? Up
until now, everything I've heard indicated that Slayer was pretty
much a one man show."
"I... can't say for certain." Giles stood up, set down
his cup of tea, and climbed the stairs to the upper loft where he
kept the more Slayer-centric reference material. Since being
officially reinstated as Buffy's Watcher, Giles had access to the
Watchers' diaries once again. These first-hand accounts proved,
many times, to be far more valuable than any textbook. "I
seem to recall having once read a journal entry making a mention
of---" He trailed off as he skimmed book bindings for the
correct date.
"Of what? Don't leave me hanging here." Buffy tried not
to sound as desperate as she felt. If there were more Slayers,
there was the chance that she might be able to regain some
normalcy in her life. Whenever she was swamped, she could just
page someone else to take over while she was away.
Giles returned, carrying a very old, weather-beaten and dusty
tome. "A sort of support system for the Slayer. These people
were stationed throughout Europe and the other continents of the
world. Since it's impossible for one girl to be everywhere at
once, it was necessary to bestow certain powers on other mortals.
They could cover the area one Slayer couldn't." He nodded as
he finally ran across the correct page. "There is a
particularly large concentration of vampires in
Transylvania---"
"How surprising." Buffy replied dryly. "So,
'concentration'. What, are we talking like, Hellmouth vampire
population?"
"Fairly close." Michael Morley, who had been silent up
to now, finally felt the necessity to join the conversation. He
caught a look of confusion on the British gentleman's face.
"My... family originally comes from that area. We're well
aware of the problem."
"It's conceivable, although not directly mentioned here,
that this Covich clan is the group of mortals delegated to
Transylvania." Giles continued.
Buffy was still confused. "What? Did the good old PTB want
to keep the Slayer Hellmouth-bound for all eternity?"
"Precisely. Because of the high frequency of vampire
activity, it was believed that the Slayer could be of best use
here in California."
Giles continued reading as Buffy processed this information. The
rest of the writing was rather useless in shedding light on the
Covich mystery, Giles realized. Dry facts, dates of
confrontations.... Hello. What have we here? The Morleys.
Giles began to read in earnest. There was something mysterious
about this man that Buffy had brought back from patrol with her.
Something familiar--- as if he had already met Michael somewhere
before. Dear Lord. His eyes grew wide as saucers as he
turned the page and beheld---
"I.... I really have to be going." Michael jumped up
suddenly, breaking Giles' train of thought and practically
knocking the table over.
"Is there something wrong?" Giles set the book down,
holding his place with his hand.
"I just remembered that there's somewhere I have to
be." The man was beginning to look increasingly agitated. He
glanced around irratically and shot toward the door.
Before Buffy could get to her feet, he was gone. Upon tossing the
door open, he had run out at top speed.
"Should I go after him?" Buffy asked her Watcher
anxiously.
Giles looked down at the page of writing before him. "Yes.
Hurry. I have a lot to ask that man." A picture stared back
at him with the caption-- CALEB MORLEY.