To accelerate the implication process, Buffy assembles Sunnydale's version of The View -- four women, all thin, white, and young. She wants evidence that he did it. Or evidence that he didn't. Dawn bleats that since all Buffy has is the word of a potentially fake vamp-liar, and since all of them were subjected to fibbery the other night, maybe Spike is innocent. Not so fast, interjects Willow. Just because those were evil spirits "doesn't mean what they said can't be true." So maybe Buffy won't choose Dawn when the going gets tough -- there's hope yet! Anya, whose hair indicates that she's taken large strides toward inner peace, says, "I used to tell the truth all the time when I was evil." Buffy wants facts. Anya suggests looking for a surge of bodies with neck trauma; Willow taps on her keyboard, but comes up empty. "But that's easy to find," says Anya. "That computer's a moron." And the truth-telling continues. But the computer does discover that there are ten people missing, mostly young, mostly girls. "So it's true," says Dawn. "What that vampire told Buffy turned out to be true." Oh, Dawn, those little wheels are turning so fast, but going nowhere. It proves nothing of the sort. So go play in traffic. Buffy says that only Spike knows for sure.
Spike's dressing for another lackluster night on the town. As he slides on his jacket, he seems to experience a strange pang. Sure enough, when he takes his cigarettes out of his coat pocket, he has a flashback -- to talking with the blonde girl at the Bronze, and then to the blonde girl lying dead on the ground. Back in his bedroom, Spike looks at the cigarettes as though they've just spoken to him, which they kind of have. He slips them back into his pocket and heads into the living/dining area of the apartment, where Xander's in front of the television, enjoying a beer and shoveling food into his mouth. Xander jumps up and blocks the door, saying, "Buffy was very clear about the not leaving of you." Spike knows why, and he wants to go out and prove her wrong. Xander stands firm, so Spike punches him in the face, winces in pain, and steps over Xander's now-unconscious form.
At the Bronze, Aimee Mann sings to an audience of about fourteen swaying people. Do these kids have any idea how lucky they are? The Breeders, and then Aimee Mann, in a tiny club with plenty of personal space. In the land of me, we go to concerts in crowded halls, get jostled while trying to drink our overpriced beers, and stand on tiptoe just to catch a glimpse of the band. Anyway, she's singing an exquisitely melodic song about self-loathing and other Mann-ish subjects, and looks kind of cute, if extremely angular, in jeans, a vertically striped jacket (red, white, and blue -- go team USA!), white shirt, and tie (though I'm not generally an advocate of ties on women -- yes, that means you, Avril Lavigne). She could totally be a vampire. Not liking so much the zoot suit and fedora on the guy next to her. But then, he's playing guitar with Aimee Mann, and I'm not, so I'll just shut up now.