Buffy was tossing clothes, stuffed animals and other dormitory paraphernalia about her room. She stood up, closed her eyes and started to concentrate.

"Ok, where was the last place I had it. I was in the library, but I remember bringing it in here and if I knew where the last place I had it was I would be looking there!" She turned on her heel, went to her bed and threw the bedsheets back. She dropped to her knees and began pulling things out from under her bed.

"I wondered where that went," she said as she pulled Mr. Pointy out from under the bed.

"Here chemistry book, come here fella, here chemistry book," she called as she continued pulling clothes and shoes from under the bed, when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" she yelled as she reached farther under the bed.

The door opened slowly. A man cautiously poked his head in and said, "Um, excuse me. I'm looking...for..."

His voice trailed off as he stared at Buffy's hind end wriggling from under the bed. Buffy backed out of the bed preparing herself for embarrassment by the unknown voice.

"Um, hi," she said, brushing dust bunnies from her clothes. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I looking for Willow Rosenberg." The stranger came fully into the room, but left the door open.

"And you are?"

"I'm sorry," the stranger held out his hand, "Simon MacArthur."

"Buffy."

Buffy shook his hand. His grip was firm. She looked into his clear blue eyes that had just a hint of tiredness in them. He was older, probably mid to late twenties, blond hair, fairly muscular, wearing a short sleeve Henley T-shirt and khaki pants and sporting casual Eastland shoes.

Buffy stared at him, measuring him up. The silence began to stretch as Buffy stared, almost glared, at him.

"I, uh, was hoping to catch Miss Rosenberg. I'm from MSA." He reached in his back pocket and produced one of those leather card holders. He opened it and presented his card to Buffy.

"You're with the government?" Buffy asked, glancing at the white card with plain black lettering.

"Governm...oh no." The stranger laughed. "I think you're thinking of the NSA, National Security Administration. I'm with MSA, Maverick Software Associates."

Buffy glanced at the card, then back at Simon. He seemed okay. You couldn't be too careful these days. There had been a rash of thefts in the dorms and a student had been attacked outside of the gym. Oh yeah, and of course, the regular assortment of vampires and demons.

Simon continued. "I'm a recruiter. MSA represents over fifty different software companies that are considered cutting edge, mavericks."

"Ah, hence the very clever name," Buffy said, sardonically.

"Yeah. Well, Willow, Miss Rosenberg and another student from Sunnydale High, Daniel Ozbourne, scored quite high on the computer and logic parts of the aptitude tests. I was hoping to talk to Danny too, but he seems to have quit school."

"Oz," Buffy said flatly.

"What?"

"Oz, he likes to be called Oz. And he didn't quit. He had some demons to deal with."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I hope he decides to return to school."

"So do I." Buffy's voice took on a saddened note.

Simon shuffled his feet and shoved his hands into his pants pocket. It was as if he felt Buffy's sadness, almost knew what had happened.

"Listen, could you have Miss Rosenberg call me when she returns? My cell phone number is on the back of the card."

Buffy turned the card over. "Why didn't you talk to her at the high school?"

Simon shuffled his feet nervously again. "I was out of the country, working on Y2K issues with one of our clients. I also have a computer science background. By the way, what happened to the high school? I stopped by before I came here to see if I could look at the records. It looked like a bomb had gone off in it."

Now it was Buffy's turn to shuffle nervously. "Uh, apparently there was a fire or something that started in the chemistry lab. Oh, my God! Chem lab! I'm going to be late for chem! Where's that damn book?"

Buffy began hunting for her chemistry book again, tossing clothes and pillows, looking under piles of magazines and other books. Simon walked casually to the desk in the room, picked up several articles of clothing and picked up the chemistry book.

"Is this what you're looking for Miss Summers?"

"Oh my God, where did you find it?"

"It was under these clothes."

Buffy's face turned red when she realized it was her underwear she had just washed but hadn't yet put away.

"Thanks. Oh, that's Willow's. The chem book, I mean. I don't think she'll mind if I use it. I'll tell Willow you were here." She said, hiding her unmentionables behind her.

"Thanks," Simon said. "I think I can provide Miss Rosenberg with a clear career path. She's at a very important point in her development. A wrong decision now could be disastrous. Career-wise," he said quickly.

Simon left, closing the door behind him. Buffy stared at the card, her eyes grew wide.

"How did he know my last name, I didn't tell him?"

She charged for the door and flung it open. The regular jumble of students milled about oustside, but no Simon. Buffy frowned and looked at the card again.

"Did you see her. Did you see the Slayer?"

"Yes."

"Well?" The demons voice growled.

"She might be trouble."

"Perhaps we should send for..."

"No! I'll handle the Slayer. I don't want you interfering again."

The demon raised what passed for eyebrows. "Interfering! Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"

"I'm sorry. But you do remember what did happen the last time?"

"Yes," the demon growled. "So what will you do now?"

Simon MacArthur turned his back to the demon. He reached inside of his shirt and pulled the yin/yang talisman out that hung on a silver chain around his neck. He rubbed it between his right thumb and forefinger.

"It's time for Miss Willow Rosenberg to go to school," he said.

She picked her way along the alley, trying to avoid the puddles and not get her new Doc Martens wet. Yes, they were leather and yes they had a lifetime warranty and yes they were a very rugged shoe. But still, they are brand new.

She spotted the lights of the street and the flood lights over the back door of the coffee house. She would never see those lights again.

She caught a glimpse of three men, all dressed in camouflage. A bag was roughly slammed over her head. She tried to scream, but a strong hand clamped her throat closed. She felt a stabbing pain in her left arm. Her last conscious thought was, that as fashion goes, camouflage is so tacky.

"Why don't you just call and get it over with?" Buffy said.

"This is an important decision, a...a life defining decision." Willow said.

"He's a career counselor. He's going to tell you how wonderful you are and what a great opportunity he's offering and yadda, yadda, yadda," Buffy said.

"What did you say he looked like?" Willow asked.

"Old. Well not Giles old but oldish. He was dressed really casual which kinda bothered me. I mean, I don't remember any of the other career guys wearing shirts without collars and khaki pants."

"Well, maybe he just stopped by, you know, sort of casual like. Besides, the company he works for is called Maverick," Willow said, glancing at the card for the hundredth time.

"I suppose so," Buffy said.

"So?" Willow asked Buffy.

"So, what?" Buffy asked Willow.

"What did he look like? Was he cute?"

Buffy smiled. "Kinda. He had really nice shoulders, blond hair and was kind of Brendan Fraser-y looking. Kind of."

"Really?" Willow smiled widely. "And he was looking for me?"

"Yup."

"Cool!"

"So, you gonna call him or are you going to sit there grinning?" Buffy asked.

"Well, I suppose I could..."

Buffy tossed Willow the cordless phone.

"...call him. Just to, you know, see what he says."

Buffy smiled. She was happy to see Willow smile too. She had come back to the dorm room several times to find Willow, eyes red and swollen, sitting staring at their small television. When Buffy asked what was wrong, the reply was a choked, "Nuthin."

Maybe getting Willow to focus on something other than where Oz used to be might help. At least for a while. Buffy smiled at Willow and held back her own tears as the thought of the hole in her life came flooding back.

"Angel," she thought. "Damn you."