Buffy, Willow, Anya and I were standing on the lawn outside a building site, watching Dean Guerrero give a speech to a small gathering at the podium.

"Of all the duties of a dean, one of them most pleasant is to see a colleague realize a dream. Ladies, gentlemen, students, I present to you Professor Gerhardt of the anthropology department."

Professor Gerhardt replaced the dean at the podium. "When I first realized we were outgrowing our current cultural center, I was concerned. Then I realized. It was like seeing one's child grow up and move on to better things. In this case, a spacious new facility to be built on this site."

Anya was watching Xander at the site as a construction worker. "Look at him. Have you ever seen anything so masculine?"

"You mean Guerrero or his wife?" Buffy asked.

"I think she means..." Willow trailed off, gesturing to where Xander was starting to dig.

"Oh," Buffy told us. "Very manly. Not at all village people. So much sexier than the outfit from his last job."

"Oh, I miss the free hot dogs on sticks," I told them.

"I'm imagining having sex with him right now," Anya told us.

Buffy, Willow and I exchanged a look.

Gerhardt continued her speech. "And that's why it's appropriate that the ground-breaking for the UC Sunnydale cultural partnership center is taking place so soon before Thanksgiving. Because that's what the melting pot is about. Contributions from all cultures, making our culture stronger..."

Buffy started to clap.

Willow stopped her. "What a load of horse hooey."

"We have a counterpoint?" I asked.

"Yeah," Willow answered. "Thanksgiving isn't about blending of two cultures. It's about one culture wiping out another. And then they make animated specials about the part where, with the maize and the big, big belt buckles. They don't show you the next scene, where all the bison die and squanto takes a musket ball in the stomach."

"Okay," I told her. "Now, for some of that, you were channeling your mother?"

"Well, yeah, sort of," Willow answered. "That's why she doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving or Columbus Day. You know, the destruction of the indigenous peoples. I know it sounds a little overwrought, but really, she's... she's right."

"Yeah, I guess I never really thought about it that way," Buffy told us. "With my mom at Aunt Arlene's this year, and with Zo's mom working too hard with the overshifts again..." She looked at me. "I can finally see where you get it from." I poked out my tongue. "I guess we're not getting a Thanksgiving. Maybe it's just as well."

"Well, I think that's a shame," Anya told us. "I love a ritual sacrifice."

"It's not really a one of those," I told us.

"To commemorate a past event, you kill and eat an animal," Anya told us. "It's a ritual sacrifice, with pie."

Gerhardt continued her speech. "And, thus, a symbolic beginning."

Gerhardt walked over, commencing with the ground breaking ceremony.

Anya was incensed. "What's she doing? Xander said he was going to dig. I want to see Xander dig."

"That part's just ceremonial," I told her.

"Well, it bites," Anya told us. "She's not rippling at all. Oh, look, there he goes." Xander started to dig. Anya sighed. "Look at him."

"Very... diggy," Willow told us.

"Soon he'll be sweating," Anya told us. "I'm imagining having sex with him again."

"Imaginary Xander is quite the machine," I told them.

Xander was still digging. The ground broke away beneath him. He plummeted underground. "Ow. I'm okay! I'm, uh... I'm okay! Where am I okay?"

••••

We had obviously gotten Xander out of there.

Buffy, Willow and I were in our dorm room.

Buffy was looking out of the window.

"Why they were pulling Xander out, I heard a couple of anthro professors talking about it," Willow told us. "Man, were they excited. It's the old Sunnydale mission, which everyone thought was lost."

"Huh?" Buffy asked.

I stepped closer to Buffy and the window. "Is there something out there?"

"Hmm?" Buffy asked. "Oh. No. I'm sorry. A lost mission. I mean, a hairbrush I can understand. And by the way, I will find that and get that back to you. But how do you lose a mission?"

"Huge earthquake in 1812," Willow answered. "Everyone just assumed the mission was leveled. Instead, they built right over it. It's like what happened in the '30s with that church the Master was in. Doesn't it make you wonder what else is there, like, right under our feet?"

"Mostly, I've just found sewers full of demons," I told them.

"Oh, right," Willow told us. Outside in the hallway, we could hear students running mad with excitement. "Man, it's crazy out there."

"Mm-hmm," I agreed. "Post-midterm frenzy. And the holiday. Everyone's going home."

"It looks like a lot of lucky moms are gonna be getting brimming baskets of dirty laundry," Willow told us.

"It's so not fair," Buffy told us. "I mean, they all get a family holiday just because they can go home to their families."

"Hmm, it's a turvy-topsy world," Willow told us.

"You know what?" Buffy asked. "I should have my own Thanksgiving. I can cook the meal, just like my mom does, have all you guys over. It'll be great."

"Buffy, earlier you agreed with me about Thanksgiving," Willow told her. "It's a sham. It's all about death."

"It is a sham, but it's a sham with yams," Buffy told us. "It's a yam sham."

"You're not gonna jokey-rhyme out of your way out of this one," Willow told her.

"I know," Buffy told us. "But I want it. It's like Professor Walsh was saying about sense memory. I smell a roasting turkey, and I'm eight years old. I liked having that to look forward to. Everything's different now."

I sat on my bed. "Well, I suppose there could be slight yams. I mean, we could definitely use a little comfort food."

Buffy sat on her bed. "I bet Giles doesn't have any plans. And Xander always tries to avoid all of his family gatherings."

"Ooh, we could not invite Anya," Willow told us.

"I don't know," I told them. "She and Xander seem pretty tight lately. Look, pilgrims aside, isn't that the whole point of Thanksgiving? Everybody has a place to go?"

••••

Professor Gerhardt had been killed in her own office with a slit throat.

Buffy, Willow and I walked into the office.

"I'll never get used to this," I told them. "One day, she's at the friendship ceremony. The next day, she's on the news."

"The coroner's office said she was missing an ear," Willow told us. "So I'm thinking, maybe we're looking for a witch. There's some great spells that work much better with an ear in the mix."

"That's one fun little hobby you've got there, Will," I told her.

"Or... or maybe an ear-harvesting demons that... it's like, building another demon completely out of ears," Willow told us. "Or... Ooh. Thought. We're just assuming someone else cut off the ear. What if it was self-inflicted, like Van Gogh?"

"So, she brutally stabs herself, dumped the body, then cut off her own ear?" I asked.

"No," Willow answered. "She cut off her ear, then killed herself, then dumped the body... I'm really off my game, aren't I?"

"Yeah," Buffy answered. "Wait." She looked at a nearby glass display case. "Something's missing from this case." She read the inscription. "'Early 1800 Chumash knife'. There's a picture."

I walked closer. "What's it look like?"

••••

Giles, Buffy and I were talking in Giles' apartment's kitchen.

Buffy was getting the food ready for Thanksgiving dinner.

"Pretty darn scary," Buffy told us. "It was more like a riot than a Ralph's. I thought I was going to have to use Slayer moves on this one woman who was completely hoarding the pumpkin pie filling."

"And at some point, you are going to tell me about the murder?" Giles asked.

"Oh, right," I answered. "The knife was some sort of Indian artifact. Chumash, I think. That's all we got."

"Oh, Chumash Indians," Giles told us. "They were indigenous to this whole area. That's interesting. Then, of course, the murder weapon might have just been a convenient choice."

I shook my head. "Uh-uh. There was a big old scissors lying right there. That knife was picked for a reason."

Buffy looked around. "Do you even own a turkey pan?"

"Tell me again why we're not doing this at your house," Giles told her.

"Giles, if you would like to get by in American society, then you are going to have to follow our traditions," Buffy told him. "You're the patriarch. You have to host the festivities, or it's all meaningless."

"And this is in no way an elaborate scheme to stick me with the cleanup?" Giles asked.

Buffy didn't answer. "How about that ceremonial knife, huh? Pretty juicy piece of clueage, don't you think?"

"Yes, all right," Giles told us. "I'll look into the Chumash connection and see if there's any ritual significance to the ear removal."

"Thank you," I told him. Buffy stopped, sensing something, lost in thought. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Buffy answered. "Uh, I still need to pick up a few things, so I'll check in. And keep your hands off the food."

"Oh, we'll try and restrain ourselves from eating uncooked potatoes and cranberries," Giles told her.

Buffy walked out, leaving.

I waited until the door was closed to grab a few cranberries.

Giles gave me a half-hearted look.

I shrugged innocently, eating.

Angel walked out of hiding.

"So, what do you think?" I asked.

"She sounds good," Angel answered. "Kind of intense about this Thanksgiving thing."

"I meant about the murder," I told him.

"Whatever killed the woman in the museum, that's probably the danger," Angel told us.

"Yeah, well, this danger your friend Doyle has some ominous vision about Buffy?" I asked. "It's all a little too vague. I mean, there are other things happening on this campus."

"Well, maybe I'm wrong, but I gotta try something," Angel told us. "I can't just keep watching."

"I'm glad that you're watching out for her, but I feel I should remind you that she's not helpless and it's not your job to keep her safe," Giles told him.

"It's not yours anymore, either," Angel replied. "Are you going to walk away?"

"All right," Giles told us. "But I feel we should tell her. I don't like keeping this secret."

"No," Angel told us. "If she knew I was here, it would distract her. It could get her hurt. I don't want to get in the way."

"Um, I'm assuming that there's some connection to the old mission," Giles told us. "Something is angry about being disturbed."

"Or maybe it was trapped there, and now it's released," I told them. "Something that has a fondness for ancient weapons."

"You know Father Gabriel?" Angel asked.

"No," I answered.

"He knows the history of this place pretty well," Angel told us. "His family dates back to mission times. He might be able to fill in some blanks."

"Okay," Giles told us. "Well, I'll see about contacting him." Angel walked toward the door. "Where are you going?"

"To watch her," Angel answered.

"It's not fair," I told him. "You know that's what she'd say. You can see her, but she can't see you?"

"Believe me, I'm not getting the good half of this deal," Angel told us. "to be on the outside looking in at what I can't... Well, I'd forgotten how bad it feels."

••••

I walked into the church, looking around. "Father Gabriel?" I walked down the aisle of pews toward the back. "Father Gabriel?" I walked outside into the backyard. "Father?" I closed the door behind me. "Are you out here?" I looked down the way to see a Native American man hanging Father Gabriel, slitting his throat with the Chumash knife. "God."

I ran closer, kicking the man in the leg, grabbing his arm, flipping him to the floor.

The man took a defensive crouch, knife raised. "You can't stop me."

"You're very wrong about that," I told him.

The man stood, slashing toward me. I stepped aside to make him miss. The man turned to face me, slashing. I backed away enough to make him miss, grabbing his arm and his head, slamming his head against the bell hanging from above, pushing him to the floor. The man turned toward me, slashing. I backed away enough to make him miss. The man stood, slashing toward me. I somersaulted behind him, making him break a statue that had been behind me.

The man kicked me in the side, making me fall to my back, kneeling above me, knife held ready. "I am vengeance. I am my people's cry. They call for Hus, for the avenging spirit to carve out justice."

"They tell you to start an ear collection?" I asked, kneeing Hus in the face, making him let go, holding onto his arm with the knife, making us roll down the way, both of us standing.

I kicked Hus in the head, slamming his hand with the knife against a nearby tree. Hus punched me in the face. I kicked him in the knee, making him fall to his knees, turning the blade toward him.

Hus barely kept me from stabbing him. "You slaughtered my people. Now you kill their spirit. This is a great day for you."

I couldn't help but feel slightly guilty.

Hus broke the hold I had on him, somersaulting away, turning to face me, standing. He dissolved into black birds, flying away.

I watched them go in shock.

••••

The next day, I was in the kitchen of Giles' apartment with Giles and Buffy, helping them prep for Thanksgiving.

"It's clear we're dealing with a spirit of some kind," Giles told us. "It's very common for Indian spirits to change to animal form."

"Yeah, well, it's plenty uncommon for me to freeze up during a fight," I told them. "I mean, I had the guy, I was ready for the take-down, and I stopped. And Native American."

"Sorry?" Giles asked.

"We don't say 'Indian'," I told him.

Giles nodded. "Oh, right. Yes, yes. Um, always behind on the terms. Still trying not to refer to you lot as 'Bloody colonials'."

"And the thing is, I like my evil like I like my men," I told them. "Evil. You know, 'straight up, black hat, tied to the train tracks, soon my electro-ray will destroy Metropolis' bad. Not all mixed up with guilt and the destruction of an indigenous culture."

"This spirit warrior, Hus, you called him, has killed innocent people," Giles told me.

"Okay," Buffy told us. "You know what? We need to boil those and put them through the ricer."

"I don't think I have a ricer," Giles told us.

"You don't have a ricer?" Buffy asked. "What do you mean? How could someone not have a ricer?"

"Well, do you have one at home?" Giles asked.

"I don't know," Buffy told us. "What's a ricer?"

"We'll mash them with forks, much like the pilgrims must have," Giles told us. "Did you catch the pat about the innocent people?"

"Yes," Buffy answered. "Okay? And I do want to stop him. I'd just like to find a non-Slayee way to do it."

There was a knock on the door.

I walked out of the kitchen, around the dividing wall toward the front door, opening it.

Willow was standing outside with books in arm. "Hey."

"Hey," I told her.

I looked at the box on top of the books. "Peas?"

"Peas," Willow answered. I took the box of peas on the books, tossing them through the window in the wall leading into the kitchen. Buffy caught the box. I took some of the books from Willow, helping her carry them in. "Oh, thank you."

Willow and I put the books down on a nearby table.

I closed the door behind us.

Buffy looked from the box of peas to Willow and me. "These are frozen."

Giles looked at the books. "What's all that?"

"Atrocities," Willow answered. "I got the full poop on the Chumash Indians and our fabulous buried mission."

"You said you were going to get fresh ones," Buffy told her.

"Atrocities?" Willow asked.

"Peas," Buffy answered. "They come in little pods. You were going to shell them."

"I didn't have time," Willow told us. "I was busy reading about the Chumash war."

"The Chumash were peaceful," Giles told us.

"Oh, they were peaceful, all right," Willow agreed. "They were fluffy indigenous kittens, till we came along."

"They're gonna be mushy," Buffy told us.

"They won't be mushy," I told her.

"I like mushy peas," Giles told us.

"You're the reason we had to have pilgrims in the first place," Buffy told him.

I looked at Willow. "So, what happened to the Chumash?"

"How about imprisonment, forced labor, herded like animals into a mission full of bad European diseases?" Willow asked.

I looked down. "Boy. Cultural partnership center really didn't stress any of that stuff."

"Not even a diorama," Willow agreed. "And it gets better. A few Chumash who tried to rebel were hanged. And when a group was accused of stealing cattle, they were killed. Men, women and children. And for proof to bring back to their accusers..."

"They cut off their ears?" Giles finished.

Willow nodded.

I sighed. "So Hus wasn't kidding about the rightful vengeance routine. He's recreating all the wrongs done to his people."

"And it's up to us to stop him," Giles told us.

"Yes, but after dinner, right?" Buffy asked.

"Are you sure we shouldn't be helping him?" Willow asked.

"No," Giles answered. "I think perhaps we won't help the angry spirit with his rape and pillage and murder. "

"Well, okay, no," Willow agreed. "But we should be helping him redress his wrongs. Bring the atrocities to light."

"If the history books are full of them, I'd say they already are," Giles told us.

"Or giving his land back," Willow told us.

"It's not exactly ours to give," Giles told us.

"I don't think you wanna help," Willow told him. "I think you just wanna slay the demon, then go, la, la, la."

"And I think your sympathy for his plight has blinded you to certain urgent facts," Giles told her. "We have to stop this thing."

"Okay, unfeeling guy," Willow told him.

"Willow, that's not fair," Giles told her.

"I have to baste," Buffy told us, walking into the kitchen.

"Willow, Zoey, I..." Giles trailed off, whispering. "I have reason to believe Buffy herself may be in particular danger from this menace."

"You mean... Angel?" Willow asked. We looked at her in surprise. "I saw him, too."

"That's not stealthy of him," I told them.

"I think he's lost his edge," Willow told us.

"But Buffy doesn't know," I told them.

"Oh, no," Willow answered. "Not a peep."

"Well, that's good, but this is why I think we should all keep a level head in this," Giles told us.

"And I happen to think mine is the level head, and yours are the ones things would roll off of," Willow told us.

There was a knock on the door.

I walked toward the door, opening it to reveal Xander and Anya outside.

Xander had his arm around Anya's shoulder, looking very sick. "Happy Thanksgiving."

We looked at him in concern.

"Xander," I told him.

"You look like death," Giles told him.

"Are you okay?" Willow asked.

Buffy walked closer. "You didn't bring rolls?"

••••

Xander was lying on the couch. "The doctor said he couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. He said I had a lot of symptoms that didn't connect."

"I think they do connect," I told him.

"What, to this Chumash spirit vengeance guy?" Xander asked.

"Will, didn't you say the Chumash got all diseased when they were all holed up in the mission?" I asked.

"Yeah," Willow answered, grabbing a book, going through it. "This has a better account of everything. It lists the various--"

"Various?" Xander repeated. "As in..."

"Well, the important thing is not to panic," Willow told him.

"You just recited the mystical panic-causing incantation, so little hope there," Xander told her. "Let's talk about the various."

"Well, they did suffer from malaria, some smallpox," Willow told us.

Anya looked at Xander. "I was gonna say smallpox."

"You know, syphilis, but basically--" Willow started.

"Syphilis?" Xander repeated.

"Well, but this is probably mystical, and it'll all go away as soon as--" Willow started.

"As soon as what?" Buffy asked. "We still don't know what we're gonna do."

"Well, maybe I can find something," Willow told us, looking through the books.

"Let's give him some land," Giles told us sarcastically. "I'm sure that'll clear everything right up."

"Sarcasm accomplishes nothing, Giles," Buffy told him.

Giles took off his glasses. "It's sort of an end in itself."

"Hey, can we come rocketing back to the part about me and my new syphilis?" Xander asked.

Anya continued to dab lightly at his forehead with a cloth. "I'll make you blind and insane, but it won't kill you. The smallpox will."

"Maybe there's a wiccan spell that can cure it," Willow told us. "You know, something regular medicine doesn't know about." She looked through her book. "Ooh, there was a potion." She picked up a piece of paper tucked in the book. "Sage, salt... onion?"

"That's the stuffing," Buffy told us, churning mashed potatoes.

Anya picked up a book, looking through it.

"Oh, God," Xander told us.

"Uh, you're gonna get vesicles and pustules," Anya told him. "They have pictures."

Anya showed Xander the book.

Xander looked away. "I hate this guy."

"He's just doing what was done to him," Willow told us.

"I didn't give him syphilis," Xander told us.

"No, but you freed his spirit," Giles told him. "And after a century of unrest, he saw you as one of his oppressors."

"What, so he rises up and infect the first guy he sees?" Xander asked, shaking his head. "That's no fair."

"Like you've never woken up cranky?" Willow asked.

"But why the others?" Giles asked. "Why them particularly?"

"So we take this guy out," Xander told us. "Buffy, Zoey, it is time for it to be slaying sometime soon, yeah?"

"That's sort of the question before the court," I told them.

"Question?" Xander repeated.

"There are two sides to it," Willow told us.

"To slaying him?" Xander asked. "The representative from syphilis votes yea."

"It's not that simple," Willow told us.

"He's a vengeance demon," Xander told us. "You don't talk to vengeance demons. You kill them."

Anya pulled her hand away. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"What?" Xander asked.

"Anyway, he's a spirit, not a demon," Willow told us.

"Yes, and we've never faced this sort of spirit before," Giles told us. "We really don't know what will kill it."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Again with the killing."

"Figuratively speaking," Giles told her in annoyance. "Or bind it or whatever. Yes, Willow, we all appreciate your perspective."

Anya looked at Anya. "Sometimes vengeance is justified."

"You know that I didn't mean you," Xander told her.

"I don't think anyone appreciates the truth of the situation," Willow told us.

"Oh, I think we do," Giles told her.

I stood, walking into the kitchen to try to shut their voices out.

Buffy stood. "This is no good!" Everyone shut up, looking at Buffy. Buffy looked at the bowl in her hands. "This needs more condensed milk."

Buffy walked into the kitchen, standing next to me.

Giles followed. "Xander's in real danger. Are you sure the solution is pie?"

"Over bickering and confusion, I'll take pie," I told them.

Buffy added condensed milk to her bowl.

"We will find a solution," Giles told us.

Buffy picked up the bowl, turning to face us. "And we will have a nice dinner, okay? Both. End of story." She started stirring again. "We're having Thanksgiving, and it'll be perfect."

"Hus won't stop," Giles told us. "Vengeance is never sated. Hatred is a cycle. All he will do is kill."

There was a knock on the door.

We were confused, thinking everyone was already here.

I walked out of the kitchen toward the door, opening it, revealing no one, stepping outside.

Spike stepped out of the shadows, wrapped in a blanket, grabbing my arm. "Help me." I broke his hold, pushing him to the ground in the sunlight. Spike started to burn, using the blanket to protect him from the sunlight. "What part of 'help me' do you not understand?"

"The part where I help you," I answered.

Spike stood. "Come on, I'm parboiling out here."

Buffy walked closer with a stake in hand. "Want me to help make it quicker?"

Spike looked past us toward Giles. "Invite me in."

"No," I told him.

"Fairly unlikely," Giles told him.

Spike ran toward the doorway, prevented from walking in. "Oh, damn it!" He regained balance, leaning against the doorway, coughing. "Look, I'm safe. I can't bite anyone. Willow, tell them what I did."

Willow stood. "You said you were gonna kill me, then Zoey, then Buffy."

"Yes, bad, but let's skip that part and get to the part where I couldn't bite you," Spike told her.

Willow nodded. "It's true. He had trouble performing."

"Yeah, well, it looks like they've done me for good," Spike told us.

Giles stepped closer. "Um, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Spike had a little trip to the vet and now he doesn't chase the other puppies anymore," Spike answered. "I can't bite anything. I can't even hit people."

"So you haven't murdered anybody lately?" I asked sarcastically. "Let's be best pals."

"I've got information," Spike told us. "About the soldier boys you were fighting. Got the inside scoop." Buffy and I exchanged a look. "Come on, what have you got to be afraid of?"

••••

Giles had invited Spike in.

I was tying Spike to a chair.

Spike groaned in pain. "Bloody hell, woman. You're cutting off my circulation."

I looked at Spike from over his shoulder. "You don't have any circulation."

"Well, it pinches," Spike told me.

I stood. "Get used to it. I have more important things to worry about."

"I came to you in friendship," Spike told us. I tilted my head. "Well, all right, seething hatred, but I've got useful information, and I fell I'm being mistreated."

"So, tell us everything you know," I told him.

"I'm too hungry to remember everything," Spike told us.

I hit Spike in the head lightly, walking past. "Then sit."

Buffy was cooking in the kitchen. "Uh, a half of stick of butter and a quarter cup of Brandy is supposed to go in with these." She looked at Giles. "You do have Brandy, don't you?"

"What?" Giles asked. "Oh, yes. Um, on the bookcase."

Giles took off his glasses.

"I wouldn't say no to a Brandy," Spike told us.

I looked at Giles. "What's wrong?"

"The victims," Giles answered. "Apart from Xander, Hus has targeted authority figures. Father Gabriel, the curator at the cultural center. Who else fits this pattern?"

"Just a small Brandy," Spike told us.

I looked at Giles in realization. "The dean. Dean Guerrero. He's the king of us, and he was at the ceremony."

"Likely candidate," Giles told us. "We should warn him."

I walked toward Willow. "Will, anything in those books about how to stop a Native American spirit guy?" Willow stood. "Some nice, non-judgmental way to, you know, kill him?"

"I'm not gonna help you kill him," Willow told us. "I'm not on board."

I tilted my head in exasperation. "What choice do we have?"

"Zoey, this isn't a western," Willow told me. "We're not at Fort... Giles with the cavalry coming to save us. It's one lonely guy." Buffy walked out of the kitchen toward the bookshelf to get the Brandy. "Oppressed warrior guy who's just trying to..."

"Kill a lot of people," I told her.

"I didn't say he was right," Willow told us.

"Will, you know how bad I feel about this," I told her. "Okay? It's eating me up." Buffy walked back into the kitchen. "But even though it's hard, we have to end this. Yes, he's been wronged, and I personally would be ready to apologize--"

"Oh, someone put a stake in me," Spike told us.

"You got a lot of volunteers in here," Xander told him.

Willow and I turned to face Spike. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I just can't take all this mamby-pamby boo-hooing about the bloody Indians," Spike told us.

"Uh, the preferred term--" Willow started.

"You won," Spike told us. "All right? You came in and you killed them, and you took their land. That's what conquering nations do. It's what Caesar did, and he's not going around saying, 'I came, I conquered, I felt really bad about it'. The history of the world isn't people making friends. You had better weapons, and you massacred them. End of story."

"Well, I think the Spaniards actually did a lot of--" Buffy started. "Not that I don't like Spaniards."

"Listen to you," Spike told us. "How you gonna fight anyone with that attitude?"

"We don't wanna fight anyone," Willow told him.

"I just wanna have Thanksgiving," Buffy told us.

Spike chuckled. "Yeah. Good luck."

"If we could talk to him--" Willow started.

"You exterminated his race," Spike told us. "What could you possibly say that would make him feel better? It's kill or be killed here. Take your bloody pick."

"Maybe it's the syphilis talking, but..." Xander trailed off. "Some of that made sense."

"I made these points earlier, but fine, no one listens to me," Giles told us.

"Fine, okay?" I asked. "But someone still has to go warn the dean."

"I'll go," Willow told us. "I need the air."

Willow walked toward the door.

"Not alone," Buffy told her.

Anya stood. "I'll go."

Xander started to sit up weakly. "Me, too."

"Sure you're up to it?" I asked.

"Oh, leave that one," Spike told us. "He looks like he's ready to drop any minute, and I think I can eat someone if he's already dead."

Xander nodded. "I'm up to it."

Anya helped Xander stand, leading him to the door.

"I'll keep on looking for a solution," Giles told us.

"Yeah, guys, the dean's house is up past the gym," I told them.

"And hurry," Buffy told them. "Dinner's in an hour."

Willow, Anya and Xander walked out, leaving.

••••

Buffy, Giles, Spike and I were here until the sun went down.

"Hey, when do I get fed?" Spike asked.

"Later," I answered. "I hope the others are okay."

"Speaking of the others, I noticed one of your little Scooby gang in missing," Spike told me. "You know, spiky hair, werewolf, followed you two to LA."

"And you following back led you to this," I told him.

Spike nodded. "Very true. But I'm still here. Where's your little Teutonic boy-toy?"

I looked away in annoyance, not wanting to talk about it. "Shut up, Spike."

Spike smirked. "That bad, huh?" I glared at him, walking toward Giles and Buffy. "You know what happens to vampires who don't get to feed?"

"I always wondered that," Giles told us.

"Zoey, plates," Buffy told me.

Buffy and I walked into the kitchen.

I grabbed the plates.

Spike looked at Giles from over his shoulder. "Living skeletons, mate. Like famine pictures from those dusty countries, only not as half as funny."

"You can have gravy," I told him. "That has blood in it, right?"

"Do you know what else has blood in it?" Spike asked. "Blood."

"Do I have to gag you?" I asked. "Because I am not gonna listen to you whine all the way through dinner."

Buffy and I carried the food and plates to the table, setting them out.

"It's gonna be a nice, quiet, civilized--" Buffy started.

An arrow shot down into the table in front of us. We turned to see Hus standing on the stairs.

"You," I told him. "Listen, maybe I wasn't clear before about how terrible we all feel." Hus drew another arrow. "'Cause we're trying to help."

Spike struggled in his chair. "What's going on?"

Buffy, Giles and I backed away from Hus.

"It isn't working," Giles told us.

"Uh, you can have Casinos now," Buffy told him.

We heard glass shattering, turning to see more Chumash men breaking their way into the apartment.

"Get down!" I told them.

We ducked.

Arrows were shot into the couch that we were using for cover.

"What about me?" Spike asked. "You gonna leave me like this?" More arrows shot around us, one of them landing in Spike's chest, but on the right side instead of the left. "Hey! Watch the heart!"

••••

Arrows were still soaring.

We were still ducking.

Giles' phone rang. He answered. "Hello? Yes. Yes, w--w--we're well aware of that. We--we're under siege now, actually. Thank you."

Giles hung up.

"Who was that?" Buffy asked.

"A... someone," Giles told us. "Uh, we need a plan."

I knew he meant Angel.

Spike still had an arrow in his chest, but now he had one his stomach above the ropes, and one in his shoulder. "Yes. Let's talk about it some more."

Buffy looked around. "Where's your weapons chest?"

"Over there," Giles answered. Buffy crawled toward the weapons chest, trying to open it. An arrow shot into her arm, making her groan in pain. "Buffy!"

Buffy pulled back into cover, holding her arm.

Spike struggled in his chair, trying to avoid being hit again. "Remember that conquering nation thing?" Giles grabbed a cloth, wrapping it around Buffy's arm. "Forget it. Apologize."

"Shut up, Spike," I told him, pulling the arrow out of Buffy's arm.

"Fine," Spike told us. "I'll do it myself." He looked at the Chumash men. "Hey, sorry. Sorry about that, chief."

"How many?" Buffy asked.

"Uh, the leader upstairs," I answered. "Two by the living room windows. Uh, two through the window by the door."

"It's too many," Buffy told us.

Giles nodded. "We need help."

••••

We managed to get cover closer to the weapons chest, opening it, taking weapons out.

"Okay, one..." Buffy trailed off. "Two... three."

We came out of hiding, aiming weapons.

I shot toward Hus with a crossbow.

Hus ducked to the side to make me miss.

••••

Hus jumped down toward us, slashing toward me with his knife. I ducked to the side, stabbing him in the shoulder, spinning around, kicking him in the legs, making him fall to his knees, spinning to kick him in the back, making him fall into the wall. I tried to kick him in the head. Hus ducked out of the way, making me kick the wall.

Another Chumash burst in through the window. Buffy slashed toward him with her knife. He ducked. Another Chumash burst in through the window, running toward Buffy, tackling her to the floor.

Another arrow shot into Spike's leg, making him groan in pain.

"Bloody hell!" Spike told us.

I kicked the knife out of Hus' hand. Hus lunged toward me. I spun out of the way, turning to face him. Hus punched me in the face, trying to slash another knife toward me. I grabbed his arm, turning around, throwing him over the couch, making him fall to the floor.

Chumash 1 pushed Buffy against the wall. Buffy stabbed him in the shoulder, making him let go, grabbing him by his shoulders, turning around, throwing him into Chumash 2, making them fall to the floor. She stabbed them both in the chest. Chumash 2 sliced into Buffy's arm with a knife, making her groan in pain.

"Guys, these guys don't die," Buffy told us.

Chumash 3 was restraining Giles from behind.

Giles was trying to stab him. "Bit busy over here."

Giles stabbed Chumash 3 in the face, making him let go and back away, turning to face him.

Hus stood.

Chumash 4 threw Xander inside through the front door, making him fall to the floor, trying to stab him. Xander held him off at arms' bay.

Hus slashed toward me. I raised my knife to block the move, punching him in the face, spinning to kick him back. Hus raised his leg to block the move, slashing toward me. I raised my arms in a cross block, grabbing his arm, pushing him into the wall.

Buffy grabbed a chair, pushing Chumash 1 against the wall. Chumash 1 tried to stab her. Buffy held him off.

Chumash 2 approached Buffy from behind, trying to stab her. Another knife was thrown through the open door into his chest, making him fall to the ground.

I looked outside to see Angel fighting with another Chumash.

Chumash 4 dragged Xander up from the floor, pushing him against the wall.

Willow and Anya ran inside, hitting Chumash 4 with shovels repeatedly.

Buffy pushed Chumash 1 to the floor.

Chumash 3 bashed Giles' head against the wall.

Hus picked up my knife. I picked up Hus' knife. He slashed toward me. I ducked, slashing into his arm, kicking him back.

Hus looked at his bleeding arm.

"Your knife can kill you," I realized.

Hus transformed into a bear, roaring.

Spike was in shock. "A bear!" He looked at me. "You made a bear!"

"I didn't mean to," I told them.

"Undo it!" Spike told us. "Undo it!"

Spike started to struggle in his chair again, falling onto his back on the floor.

Chumash 1 tried to punch Buffy from either side. Buffy caught his arms, turning around, throwing him into Chumash 3 to make him let go of Giles, making them both fall to the floor. She turned toward us, trying to help me with the bear. The bear slashed toward us with its claws, making us roll over the couch and the table, both of us falling to the floor.

Xander walked closer. "Hey, gentle Ben, over here." He picked up a bread roll, throwing it at the bear. "That's for giving me syphilis."

The bear turned toward Xander.

I stood, stepping across the table, stabbing the bear in the back with Hus' knife.

The bear transformed into Hus. Hus dissolved into green smoke, disappearing.

The other Chumash men dissolved into green smoke, disappearing.

Buffy, Giles, Xander, Willow and Anya stepped closer to me and the table.

I jumped down to the floor, landing lightly, turning around to look through the open door.

Angel was gone now.

And Buffy had never known.

Spike was lying in his chair. "What happened? Did we win?"

••••

Giles, Xander, Anya, Buffy, Spike, Willow and I were sitting at the dinner table, eating.

"I feel lousy," Willow told us.

"Turkey came out rather splendidly," Giles told us.

Willow looked at Buffy, nodding. "Oh, it was yummy. It's just... did you see me? Two seconds of conflict with an indigenous person, and I turned into General Custer."

"Violence does that," Giles told us. "Instinct takes over."

"Yeah, that's the fun," Spike told us.

"Nobody asked you," Xander told him.

"Oh, lay off," Spike told us. "You all had a fine meal. But me... an entire siege. You'd think one of you would bleed a little."

"Good work, girls," Giles told us.

Buffy smiled a small smile. "Thanks."

"Well, you know, you should be very pleased," Giles told us.

"Wasn't exactly a perfect Thanksgiving," Buffy told us.

"I don't know," I told them. "Seemed kinda right to me. A bunch of anticipation, a big fight, and now we're all sleepy."

"And we did all survive," Giles told us.

"I guess that much is true," Buffy told us. "First Thanksgiving on my own, and we all got through it."

"And you know what?" Xander asked. "I think my syphilis is clearing right up."

Xander put a hand on Anya's cheek.

"And they say romance is dead," I told them. "Or maybe they just wish it."

"Well, maybe we started a new tradition this year," Willow told us. We gave her a look. "Maybe not. But at least we all worked together. It was like old times."

"Yeah, especially with Angel being here and everything," Xander agreed. Willow, Giles, Anya and I gave Xander a look. Buffy looked up in surprise. We all looked at Buffy nervously, sheepishly. Spike was smirking. Xander realized. "Oops."