While Miss Peel made her weekly report to the Council, Giles was wondering just how she was going to present the week's events . . . and especially Buffy's encounter of the previous night.
"A demon has offered to sell us a set of five mystical volumes, called the Books of Ascension, for five thousand dollars, claiming that they will shed some light on the intentions of Mayor Richard Wilkins of Sunnydale, who appears to be the same man who founded this town on top of the Hellmouth a hundred years ago." Right -- it's a bloody good thing that Miss Peel's Council contact is her own father, otherwise the Council would probably have us all institutionalized.
Or, quite possibly, 'liquidated' by one of their roving bands of hired thugs.
He was broken out of his thoughts by a sight he'd been sure he'd never see again: the entire Scooby Gang entering his library. Granted, there were as many people as possible separating Xander and Faith from Cordelia -- but they were all there.
"So Giles," Buffy started, "Faith tells me that Miss Peel's gonna pay for the books?"
He nodded. "I tried to convince her to apply for access to the Council's Acquisitions Fund, but she rightly pointed out that President Ashton and his followers will certainly vote against anything she asks for. And . . . " He shrugged helplessly. "Even though five thousand dollars was still a month's pay for me back when I was drawing two paychecks, it's only a drop in the bucket for Emma Knight's only daughter."
Willow gasped. "You mean Emma Peel is Emma Knight? Of Knight Industries?" she asked eagerly. "Wow. I know she said her family was well-off, but . . . wow."
"Knight Industries? Any chance there's a talking car named K.I.T.T. lurking around somewhere?" Xander quipped.
"Talking cars, no. Supersonic jet engines, yes," Willow remarked, with a roll of her eyes. "Sir John Knight -- Miss Peel's grandfather, I guess -- founded Knight Industries in the late '30s. Among other things, it built airplane engines for the RAF during World War II, and was the first British company to start manufacturing jet engines. When Sir John died suddenly in 1959, his daughter Emma took over the company, and despite the fact that everyone thought a woman couldn't run a major corporation in those days, she did it -- and did very well, in fact.
"But after about six or seven years, she decided she wanted out of the rat race, so she arranged for the company to be sold to Lockheed-Martin. She made sure all her employees would keep their jobs, with no loss in seniority or salary cuts . . . and her share of the company was worth forty million dollars."
Giles raised his eyebrows as several of the Scoobies whistled and gasped in surprise.
Cordelia, however, simply commented, "So, Willow, when did you stop reading Geeks 'R Us long enough to check out the Wall Street Journal?"
Willow looked like she wanted to fire back at Cordelia, but only answered, "When I got that offer from that software company during Career Week, I started really thinking about what I wanted to do after high school. I decided I'm not really the worker-bee-in-the-corporate-hive type, but I did have a few fantasies about being a queen bee, so I did some research on women CEOs. Emma Knight successfully ran a Global 500 corporation, increased its profits and productivity by twenty percent, and then walked away from it all when she decided she'd had enough."
Then she grinned, and her green eyes danced. "And now I know what she's been up to since then. I'd love to be able to ask her all about it."
"Well, it must be your lucky day, Willow, because it looks like you're going to have a chance to do just that," Miss Peel remarked from the door to Giles' office.
"What?" the redhead squeaked. Giles tried to hide a smile -- it looked like Willow was trying to blush and turn pale at the same time. "You mean she's coming here?"
The Watcher nodded. "Mmm-hmm. As soon as the Conclave takes place and the Council is complete again, they're going to be coming to Sunnydale. All of them."
Now it was Giles' turn to go pale. "The whole Council, here? That's . . . unprecedented. The last time more than one Council member left England at the same time was before the Civil War."
Not to mention the fact that no Field Watcher wants to have to deal with even one Council member face-to-face, much less the whole bloody Council at once!
Buffy shrugged. "The Civil War? Pfftt. A hundred and thirty years, that's no big deal to you Watchers, right?"
Miss Peel corrected her before Giles could. "He meant the English Civil War, Buffy -- in 1649."
Buffy's mouth closed with an audible click.
"And to answer your question, Giles -- yes, it's unprecedented. And even more unprecedented, the vote was unanimous, so no matter what the makeup of the Council is after the Conclave, they will be coming here. And while they are here, they will gather evidence and testimony on several matters they consider of vital importance, including your re-hiring, Faith's recovery . . . and Angel."
She turned her attention to Buffy. "He was probably the issue that pushed the Council over the edge. Sanderson's research has turned up several documents that concern him, and they make it clear he is important -- far more than even I had guessed. There is even one vague reference to him being involved in the Apocalypse."
Buffy waved that off. "Apocalypse, schmocalypse. I've faced four of those already," she said dismissively.
"You've faced potential end-of-the-world situations, Buffy. I'm talking about the Apocalypse. The final, decisive battle between Good and Evil."
Buffy didn't look entirely convinced, but some of her disdain went away as Miss Peel went on. "The document in question is a translation of a translation, and therefore not very reliable, but it talks about 'the vampire with a soul' and his crucial role in this final battle -- but it does not say which side he will be on."
Indignation suddenly flared in Buffy's eyes, but the Watcher quickly went on, "Those aren't my words, Buffy, they're the Council's. Remember, while there have been a few demons and half-breeds who have aided the Council in the past, there has never been a vampire who has chosen to do good, in any way. Perhaps it is the nature of the demon that first created them, or simply the fact that they are always born in death, but vampires have always been as close to pure evil as any creature on Earth.
"If this prophecy had come to the Council's attention just a few years ago, they would have automatically assumed that Angel was crucial to Evil's victory in the Apocalypse, and marked him for immediate termination. The very fact that they are willing to meet him in person shows a certain amount of trust in your opinion of him."
Buffy still looked unconvinced, and Giles decided to try to change the subject slightly. "You said the document was an unreliable translation. So where is the original?"
Miss Peel looked uncomfortable. "The Council has sent a team to try to retrieve it."
Giles made a noise in his throat. "Where?"
The answer came out in a half-whisper. "The other side has it."
Damn. Now Giles knew why she'd tried to avoid the question. There weren't many other organizations with the power and influence to show up on the Council's radar, and far fewer that were truly dedicated to evil. But that bare handful, referred to colloquially as "the other side," was home to some of the nastiest specimens of the human race -- if they could be called human any more. If there was going to be an open conflict between the Council and one of them, any Watcher might quickly become a target. Or just collateral damage. "Which one?" he asked.
She shrugged. "I don't know -- but I hope they're somewhere on the other side of the planet. These confrontations over artifacts and documents can get messy."
Xander made a face. "And your definition of 'messy' would be . . . ?"
"Death. Destruction. Mayhem. And the occasional war."
"That's pretty messy."
The meeting with the demon went as planned -- Miss Peel brought the five thousand in cash, the demon brought the books, and at first glance -- they were in Latin, which he could read as quickly as he could English -- Giles judged them well-worth the price.
The big surprise was that Miss Peel brought Faith with her, letting the girl make her first official appearance as a Slayer in about two weeks. Miss Peel claimed she was there to keep the demon honest -- as she pointed out, one Slayer was bad enough, but having to face two Slayers together was a demon's worst nightmare come true -- but Giles still had to wonder if there wasn't more on his counterpart's agenda.
It wasn't until they returned home, and Buffy commented, "So I guess Miss Peel doesn't trust me any more," that he realized that she'd had the same thoughts.
"I believe she trusts you somewhat, Buffy. But she doesn't understand you. You're absolutely convinced that you should continue your relationship with Angel, and she's equally convinced that it's dangerous. She can't understand why you're willing to risk so much to be with him."
"And you, Giles? Do you understand?"
Oh, no. We are not going to do this now. "Buffy-"
"I'm not asking for your approval, Giles. I . . . I couldn't do that to you, not after all you've been through. I just want to know if you understand why he means so much to me."
Giles blinked in surprise. "Whenever the subject has come up in the past, you've always made it clear to me that you didn't want or need my approval regarding your personal life. Has that changed?"
The Slayer's shoulder's slumped a bit, and she took a deep breath. "Giles . . . with all this stuff that's been going on with Faith, and Xander, and everything, I've had to do some really hard thinking. There are people that I need in my life. You know Mom's number one on that list . . . but you and Angel are just about tied for the number two spot."
As Giles struggled to come up with a response to that, she came up to him and put a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry I had to be groggy and half-dopey to say it the other night, but I'll say it again, just to be sure we're clear on this concept. I. Love. You. Giles. I don't know what I'd've done without you these past couple of years. And don't you dare say that you've just done what any Watcher would do, because we both know that's not true."
He nodded. And then, slowly but surely, the words came out. "Buffy . . . I love you, too. I . . . I know I should've said it before . . . "
"It's all right, Giles. In all the ways that don't involve the actual words, you've said it a hundred times."
And then a strange light came into Buffy's eyes. "You know, my mom and I had a talk about the men in our lives. Took up most of a night. I was kinda foggy afterwards, but I remember very clearly one thing she said about you. She said you were like Fort Knox. Strong, sturdy, and with really high walls, and all the gates are locked up tight, so it's really, really hard for anyone to see what you've got inside you. But when you actually choose to let someone in . . . your heart is twenty-four karat gold. Nothing that isn't real, and pure, and good.
"I've found my gold, Giles. I've seen it, felt it. And now that I have, I won't -- I can't -- settle for bronze or silver."
In the back of his mind somewhere, Giles knew that he was being "buttered up" a little. Okay, maybe a lot. But he was doomed by two simple truths. First, he knew that she was telling the truth, as she saw it -- while Buffy was fairly skilled with half-truths and avoidance tactics, she was really no good at being a bald-faced liar. But second, and more importantly, this was the first conversation where they had openly acknowledged their feelings for one another, and so he had no defense against the various methods that any daughter can use to wrap her father -- or stepfather -- around her little finger.
"I understand."
Willow was looking around the library as if it were the last time she was going to see it. That was nonsense, of course -- it was only the last weekend in February, and they weren't graduating until May.
But still . . . this was a big day. The last of Giles' books, weapons, and supplied were packed up, and in a few minutes they would be heading over to Buffy's house to put them on the new shelves. Mrs. Summers had almost torn her hair out trying to find room for everything -- especially since they were turning the spare room upstairs, which she had been using as a junk room, into a nursery.
But now it was done, and the first Headquarters of the Scooby Gang was on its way to just being another high school library again . . . except, of course, for the Hellmouth under the floor. They couldn't exactly move that to Buffy's house -- and who'd want to?
No more late-night research parties around the library table.
No more sneaking into the stacks for secret smoochies.
And no more worries that one of those research parties'll be interrupted by a tentacled demon bursting out of the floor . . .
Funny thing, though -- no one else seemed to be as affected by the moment as she was. Cordelia and Buffy were talking about something Buffy'd seen in a fashion magazine. Miss Peel and Giles were discussing a ritual he'd found in the Books of Ascension, and trying to figure out if there was a way to test whether it had been done or not.
And then there was Oz. Willow glanced over at her boyfriend, and saw that he was staring at her, in that still-and-quiet way that made her shiver inside. Whenever he was thinking deep philosophical thoughts, or composing music in his head, he made these little movements every now and then, tilting his head from side to side, or pursing his mouth, or something.
When he went stone-still and quiet as a vampire, it meant he was watching something -- or someone -- that was taking up all of his attention. And when he watched her in that way, it usually meant he was in the midst of "deep male appreciation," as he put it.
The thought made Willow blush -- she still wasn't quite used to the idea that she could inspire those kind of thoughts in a guy. Geeky, mushy romance, maybe. But lust? Sexy, naughty thoughts? Her?
She glanced over at him again. He was still looking at her. And now there was a hint of a smile on his face.
Oh, now she was getting naughty thoughts too! Oz was reminding her oh-so-much of the Big Bad Wolf, and she was having this crazy urge to go find a Little Red Riding Hood costume . . .
EEEP!
Blushing furiously, she looked around the room to find something else to distract her . . .
"I'm telling you, it's a classic! I promise, if you really don't like the first, you don't have to go with me in a couple weeks to see Empire, but you've gotta give it a chance . . . "
Willow grinned. That was Xander, still trying to convince Faith to go to Star Wars with him that night -- the theaters were showing the original trilogy over the next couple of months to build up to the premiere of The Phantom Menace in May. The Slayer still looked unconvinced, but she was weakening. Willow figured it was was only a matter of time -- once Xander pulled out the puppy-dog face, it would be all over. Only Willow herself and Miss Peel could resist the puppy-dog face, and even Willow still caved every now and then when Xander used it on her.
And then, as she watched the two of them, she realized something. She'd told Buffy a week ago that it would hurt to see Xander and Faith together. And she could admit there was a part of her that wanted to be angry and jealous, to mutter catty remarks under her breath, the way she had when she'd found out about Xander and Cordelia last year.
But . . . she just couldn't feel all that bad about this. Her best friend was so happy, and he was involved with someone who just adored the heck out of him.
Not that Faith didn't tease the heck out of him, too. Even now, she was licking her lips in that oh-so-slutty way of hers, and saying, "You sure you wanna go out tonight, Xan? There's lots of things we could do if we stayed home . . . Then again, there's all kinds of things I could do to you in a dark theater . . . " Willow couldn't hear the rest, because it was whispered directly into Xander's ear, but from the way his eyes were glazing over, she could make a few guesses.
And that was the difference with Faith. Even when she was teasing Xander, it wasn't a repeat of Cordelia's attitude, which had basically gone like: "Yeah, we can make out in closets and the woods, but no PDAs, dorkhead." Faith had no qualms at all about showing how much she liked Xander.
In fact, maybe she could use a qualm or two; some of those PDAs were getting pretty serious. Last night at the Bronze, Willow had thought she was gonna have to hose the two of them down.
It was so obvious how they felt about each other that Willow realized why Buffy and Xander had been on her case last year when things had started going really well with Oz. There was this feeling in the air when Faith and Xander were together, that hadn't really been there with Cordelia. It wasn't just the tingly-ness of lust -- he'd had gobs of that with Cordelia -- it was something richer, heavier . . .
Watching Xander and Cordelia together, she'd just wanted to shout at them, "Get a room!"
Watching Xander and Faith together, she wanted to tip-toe out of the room, so she wouldn't disturb them.
"Did you hear what I said, Willow?"
"Ahhh!" Willow nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden voice next to her. "Huh? Oh, Giles, sorry -- no, I didn't."
"I said, could you join me in my office for a moment. I have a problem that I think you might be able to help me with."
Curious, she followed the Watcher into the office . . . and her forehead furrowed with surprise as he closed the door behind them. "So, what's the deal? You got a passage you need translated? Some mo you need jo'ed?"
Giles sat down, and gestured to another chair. "Actually, Willow, it's more of . . . " He looked down at his shoes, and Willow got the feeling he was embarrassed. "It's something of a personal dilemma."
She blinked. "And . . . um, you really think I can, uh, help you with--?"
"It's about Angel."
Willow quickly shut up. What was there to say?
Giles sighed, and took off his glasses. "You've almost always been sympathetic towards Buffy's relationship with Angel. It's fair to say, in fact, that you're the only one of us who has actually . . . made friends with Angel."
She bit her lip, and shrugged a little. "I dunno about friends . . . I do know him, a little."
"You had to de-invite him from your house," Giles pointed out.
"That was mostly from when Buffy's old friend Ford showed up. Angel came over to ask me to look into him."
"He trusted you with something, something very important to him," Giles pointed out. He frowned at her a moment, then shook his head. "I'm afraid I've reached an impasse with Buffy. She refuses to break off her relationship with Angel, and . . . " He sighed. "And I find that while my approval -- or the lack of it -- might have some weight with her, I am loathe to force the issue. I . . . I could no more threaten to walk away from Buffy, Joyce, and my child-to-be than I could threaten to stop breathing."
Willow's jaw clenched just a little. "Are you asking me to--?"
He hastily shook his head. "No, no, of course not. I just . . . " He looked into her eyes, and she was shocked to see the raw emotion in them. "How do you do it, Willow? How do you look at him, and not see the monster ? I've . . . Lord, for Buffy's sake I've tried to see what she sees in him . . . but when I see his face, hear his voice . . . all I can see and hear is the demon who murdered Jenny . . . who tortured the secret of Acathla out of me."
His jaw clenched as he finished the last, and Willow realized that part of Giles' problem was that he was ashamed of having been broken by Angel, Spike, and Drusilla. He must've thought any number of times, If I'd only held out a little longer . . .
But there was no way Willow was going anywhere near there! "Ah . . . hmm," she murmured as she tried to think of something else to say. "Giles . . . over the past few years, we've kinda had to learn not to take things at face value. Hello, dating a werewolf here! And there's been hyena possession, cursed costumes and candy, bezoar eggs, love spells, and an evil twin or two . . . " She thought furiously. "Was that really another me that Faith staked in that bathroom? Nu-uh, I don't think so. That was a demon, inhabiting a body that looked like mine, just like you always told us."
Giles sighed. "I see where you're going, Willow. Yes, it's possible that . . . the being we call 'Angel' is, in fact, his original human soul, suppressing the demon through the curse. I have tried looking at things that way . . . but, as Buffy has pointed out to me any number of times, book-knowledge isn't everything. I . . . am not sure I quite believe it.
"And it doesn't help that Angel's memories are seamless. He always speaks of his actions -- with or without his soul -- in the first person, so there's no way for any of us to know just who or what we are dealing with: the soul, the demon, or some unholy amalgamation of both."
Willow frowned. There was something in what Giles had just said . . . "You're wrong."
His head snapped up. "Hmm?"
"The soul and the demon have the same memories, yes, but they think differently, Giles. I kinda think the soul's smarter than the demon." She sighed. This wasn't going to be pleasant for Giles, but it was the only thing she could think of. "Remember how . . . the demon messed with our minds before we found the de-invite spell? The sketches, and my goldfish? Why didn't Angel just kill or turn us in our sleep?"
"Angelus was notorious for his sadism, Willow -- he didn't just want to kill us, he wanted to hurt us. That's why . . . that's why he left . . . Jenny . . . in my flat."
"But the soul isn't like that. Not only with humans, but with vampires and other demons. If the demon was still there, he'd be taking out his sadism on the demons. But you've seen him fight -- he's all, like, whoosh, whoosh, next vamp, whoosh, next vamp. Buffy spends more time beating up vamps than he does."
A little crinkle appeared between Giles' brows, and Willow swore she heard him murmur, "Plunge and move on, plunge and move on," and chuckle slightly.
She ignored that, though. "And . . . he's a pretty good tactician, too. He doesn't take stupid risks. The demon, though -- he did all kinds of crazy things." She bit her lip before going on. "Buffy . . . told me about that night at the factory. She said that, if you'd been a little less crazed, you might have killed Angel. But Angel knew about your 'Ripper' past -- he was there with Eyghon, remember? So he should've known you could be dangerous when you wanted to . . . "
Giles was nodding slightly, but he still looked unconvinced.
Okay, here comes the biggie . . . "Giles . . . the demon didn't have to torture you to get the Acathla ritual."
He looked at her in confusion for a moment . . . and then it hit him. "He . . . he could have turned me. And the vampire could have told him everything."
"Exactly. He didn't know Spike was going to betray him . . . so the smartest thing he could've done was turn you as soon as he got you back to the mansion. Heck, it might've taken less time than . . . the other way."
Giles nodded, obviously troubled by the thought. "I . . . see where you're going, Willow. Angel . . . the soul, that is . . . has usually proven nothing if not clever . . . and efficient. And . . . you're right, he doesn't take stupid risks . . . unless he's trying to save Buffy, of course," he added with a rueful grin.
He turned to Willow again. "Thank you, Willow. You've . . . given me a lot to think about. As I'd hoped you would."
Willow was a bit shaky when she left Giles' office.
She wondered if Oz would be willing to risk another "double date" with Xander. She'd never seen the Special Edition of Star Wars in the theater, and right now, she really, really needed a geek-movie fix to get the memories of last year out of her head.
Xander Harris had had more problems in his life than he could count: abuse and neglect fom his parents, stalkage by every female demon to come through Sunnydale, hyena possession, vampire attack, clothes fluking . . .
Insomnia was a new one on him, though. No matter how bad things were, he'd always been used to being able to lay his head down and catch some Z's whenever he needed to. But here it was, the wee hours of Tuesday morning, and he couldn't clear his mind enough to fall asleep.
For the first time in almost a month, the Slayer on his mind wasn't the one lying next to him, her head pillowed on his shoulder. No, tonight he was worrying about the one across town -- possibly asleep, but more likely she was just like him: lying awake and wondering what "aspect of the demon" she was about to acquire.
Worrying about Buffy Summers was second nature to Xander by now, but up until this night, it had been a pretty straightforward thing: Buffy goes out to fight, you start to worry. Buffy comes home from fight, it's time to kick back and relax.
Now it wasn't so simple. Buffy was afraid she was going to change . . . become less human. Less Buffy. He and Willow -- and Angel, he was sure -- had told her over and over that her physical appearance didn't matter, it was what was inside her that made her so special.
Then again, I'm used to being the average-looking, dress-for-comfort, dork-geek-outsider type. I wouldn't get any more -- or any less -- attention at Sunnydale High if I showed up with two heads, or a scaly purple nose, or anything like that. Buffy's a beautiful girl, and pays attention to fashion, and makeup, and ran for Homecoming Queen . . . her appearance is much more a part of who she is. She's got a lot more to lose.
He absently stroked Faith's hair, and she murmured in her sleep and snuggled a little closer.
When he stumbled into school that morning, yawning and bleary-eyed, Buffy and Willow were already sitting in one of the student lounges. Buffy was saying, " . . . I think they were hoping I'd be out on patrol a while longer -- but on the other hand, if I'd come back about a half-hour later . . . UGH!" She made a face.
Xander grinned and took a nearby seat. "What's wrong, Buff? You interrupted a romantic dinner between the G-man and your mom?"
Willow answered before Buffy did. "Worse. She walked in on him serenading her."
Xander felt the need to do a double-take, a cough, and a blink. "Serenading? You mean, like, singing? GILES?!?"
Buffy giggled. "Yep. My house was the site of the latest MTV Special, Ripper Unplugged. He got all bad-moody when I came in, though." She frowned. "Which was a real pain, 'cause he happened to notice this last night."
She held up her left hand, showing off a silver ring she was wearing.
"What's that?" Willow asked curiously. "Didn't I used to see you wearing that . . . ?"
"On a necklace, last year? Yeah. Angel . . . gave it to me, on my seventeenth birthday. And, as for what it is . . . " Buffy made a face. "He told me it's called a claddagh, and that his people exchanged them as tokens of devotion. It's all symbolic, see? The heart stands for love, the hands for friendship, and the crown for loyalty."
"Awwww," Willow gushed.
"What he didn't tell me was that it's a wedding ring."
Willow's gush quickly turned into a squeak, and Xander thought he was going to faint. "We-we-wedding ring?" he stammered.
"Uh-huh. Giles gave me the whole deal. It's a traditional Irish wedding ring, going back to the early 1700s. Wearing it on the left hand with the heart pointing towards you means you've bound your heart forever to another's."
Xander glanced at the ring. The heart was pointed inward. "So, I'm guessing the G-man wasn't too thrilled."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Well, he gave me an extra reading assignment. Guess he hoped it would make me think about all this relationship stuff. Not to mention keep my mind off this whole 'aspect' deal." She held up a small book.
Xander read the title. "How Love Works." He smirked. "Lemme guess. The latest Big Bad came to town a few week's late for Valentine's Day; he's a little pudgy guy with wings and a bow and arrow, and you gotta stop him before he turns Sunnydale into one big smoochfest."
"Ooo! Smoochfest! Sounds good to me!" Willow said with a grin.
Buffy swatted Xander with the book. "No, goofbrain. It's by some brain-shrink, and it talks about . . . " She glanced into the book for a moment, and her brow furrowed. "Sternberg's Triangular Theory of Love."
Willow gulped. "Ummm . . . aren't love triangles supposed to be bad things?"
"Uh-uh. See? There's this diagram with these three circles . . . Passion, Intimacy, and Committment. If you've just got Passion, it's Infatuated Love, but if you mix in some Intimacy, you get Romantic Love."
Xander, leaning over Buffy's shoulder, noticed something the two girls were pretending to ignore. "And looky here, Giles left a little sticky note, 'If he kept a secret like the claddagh from you, just how much intimacy do you have?'"
Buffy pouted at him. "That's not fair!"
Willow shrugged. "It is a fair question, Buff. I mean, I know how much you like each other . . . and I'm pretty sure a two hundred and fifty year old guy knows a heck of a lot when it comes to committment . . . "
Buffy insisted, "His people thought about all this stuff years before this Sternberg fella did. See? Heart - Love - Passion. Hands - Friendship - Intimacy. Crown - Loyalty - Committment. It all matches up. And . . . " She sighed, and her shoulders drooped a little. "Ever since we got back together, we . . . well, since we've gotta keep a rein on the passion, we've been working on the intimacy. We've been talking about all kindsa stuff . . . we just never got around to the ring.
"Look, I believe we've got all three, which means we have--" she glanced at the diagram "--Consummate Love!" she finished triumphantly.
"Consummate, huh? Is that, like, where you peak together?"
Xander turned around at the new voice, and grinned at Faith. And, as always, he felt a warm rush at the sight of her smiling back at him.
A sudden crash made him jerk his attention back around to his other two companions.
Buffy had dropped the book, and was looking at the two of them with her hazel eyes open incredibly wide. Her mouth worked silently for a moment, then she got up quickly and dashed away.
Faith frowned she she watched Buffy's retreating figure. "What the hell was that?"
After she'd gotten over the initial shock of finding out she could read minds -- and her embarrassment at the stuff she was picking up from the boys in her school -- Buffy had decided to have some fun with her new-found ability. And boy, for a little while there, she did have fun. She'd nailed that all-important class-participation grade in Ms. Murray's class, and driving Nancy Doyle up the wall at the same time was just icing on the cake.
But things had started going downhill since then. She'd used one of her free periods to go visit Angel at the mansion, thinking maybe she could have a little talk with him about this "wedding ring" business -- and, of course, tease him a bit by picking up a few stray thoughts -- but to her disappointment, she'd found out that her mind-reading ability didn't work on him.
Can't I ever catch a break? I mean, I'm forced to listen to a half-dozen guys' lustful thoughts about my body, but the one guy's thoughts that I want to hear, I can't.
And now she was in the library with the Scoobies, watching what she'd told them sink in and "listening" to their reactions . . . and picking up way too many secrets in the process.
And some of them were seriously nerve-wracking secrets.
Simplest to deal with were the thoughts of the two Watchers. Like Giles before her, Miss Peel was considering the possible tactical and strategic advantages of being able to read an opponent's mind. Interestingly, she was already considering something that hadn't yet occurred to Giles: the possibility that reading someone's mind could be so distracting that it would be a disadvantage in a fight.
Yeah, Buffy thought, especially since I can't seem to block out my friends' thoughts either. It's pretty quiet in here -- library, after all -- but it sounds like a pep rally in my head!
Giles' mind was skittering back and forth between Buffy's newest talent and something he'd read this morning. Something so frightening he didn't want to think about it, but his mind kept drifting back to it -- slowing down his ability to think, like mental gaper block.
Something about the Mayor . . . argh, no, it's gone again!
Buffy didn't feel like pestering Giles to tell her what he was thinking about. She'd already seen what happened when she reacted openly to someone's private thoughts with Willow, whose first reaction to Buffy's news wasn't Xander's panicked Don't think about sex, or Giles' startled Britishisms.
No, she came up with: How can I be her friend now? She doesn't need me. Willow thought that the all-new MindMeld Slayer wouldn't want to be friends with her anymore. And Buffy's protestations that she did need Willow only upset her even more.
Actually, Buffy was hurt by the revelation that Willow believed that she only needed the hacker/witch's help in "fighting the good fight." That their friendship could be reduced to being Army bunkmates or something.
Note to myself: Make sure Willow knows I'm her friend for more than just "helping out." And she needs more of a life of her own. Between tutoring Percy, researching, and going on patrols, she's got waaaaay too much on her mind. Even I take a little time out from "the good fight" to load up on mochas down at the Espresso Pump every now and then.
. . . Although, Willow and coffee? Not a good combo there.
In contrast, Oz was an ocean of calm. Not that he wasn't concerned by Buffy's news, or Willow's obvious distress. Far from it; the idea that she could read his mind seemed to have profound philosophical implications for him. But Oz could see how much everyone else, especially his girlfriend, was freaking out, and so he was deliberately trying to stay cool.
Buffy could have hugged him for that.
She found herself wishing she had paid more attention to Oz before this. Willow was her best friend, after all, and she should really know her best friend's boyfriend, especially when they both seemed to have such bad cases of head-over-heels-itis. Her only excuse was that she'd been in constant Angel-crisis mode for about as long as the two of them had been dating . . . and the simple fact that Oz just didn't attract attention to himself . . . except when it came to his hair. Now that she'd had a good look at the mind hiding under that wild shock of red -- for the moment -- she began to realize what that expression about still waters running deep meant, and why he complemented Willow so well.
But Oz' calm also meant that the other Scoobies' minds were clamoring for her attention.
Like his exact opposite -- the girl who always fought for attention, instead of hiding from it. For the most part, Cordelia was being as direct and tactless as always. She didn't care much about Buffy reading her thoughts, since she pretty much said whatever was on her mind.
Or, at least, that was what she was telling herself.
She did pretty much say what she thought and felt, without editing for content -- except when she looked at and spoke to Xander and to Giles. Yeah, she meant every hateful word she said to Xander, but to Buffy's shock, Cordelia was actually holding back. There were far angrier, uglier thoughts that she wouldn't let herself say, for the same reason that she wouldn't say the more pleasant stuff she thought of when she looked at Giles: because they would reveal secrets that were so shameful and painful that Cordelia would never air them out in public.
The business about her family's money and her new job surprised Buffy, mostly because Cordelia had managed to keep it a secret from everyone. She'd been working for Buffy's own mother for almost a week, and Buffy had had no idea.
The other bit was harder. It was something that Buffy should have been able to guess, given what she knew about Cordelia. But, given her tendency to automatically side with Xander, it had never really occurred to her to analyze Cordelia's point of view after their breakup.
The painful truth was, Cordelia had started really falling for Xander. She had believed that she had finally found someone who liked her -- loved her -- for who she was, and not what she was.
And then Xander had cheated on her. After fighting so hard for their relationship, arguing so passionately about how they should give "this thing" between them a real chance, he'd done one of the most hurtful things anyone can do: he'd cared for her less than she did for him.
No wonder she tried going back to being "Queen C." Look what being a nice, normal person got her. If it hadn't been for Giles . . .
Buffy had enough respect for Cordelia not to say anything in public. She wasn't even sure if she could say anything in private -- with Cordelia's prickly sense of pride, it might be really, really bad to let her know how much she'd picked up. But she made a firm resolution to be nicer to her. And to keep an eye out for a guy who wouldn't break her heart again.
There's a pattern starting to develop here, Buffy realized with a sad little sigh. I've been worrying too much about Angel, the Mayor . . . and, yeah, this thing between Faith and Xander. If I --
But thinking of Faith and Xander seemed to bring their thoughts into focus, and in an instant, she was flooded . . . overwhelmed.
Xander was babbling in his head, trying not to think of sex and girls -- typical high school guy! -- but Faith . . .
Buffy didn't know if it was a Slayer thing or what, but it seemed like she was getting more from Faith than from everyone else. Not just the words of their thoughts, but the emotion behind them.
It was like the difference between watching a movie on a 13-inch TV and watching it in the theater, with full surround-sound and everything.
Xander/Lust/Trust/Tenderness/LO-nocan'tthinkthatwordbadword . . . Buffy/Anger/Jealousy/Fear . . . AmIgoodenoughforhimamIreallyasgoodassheisMOMMAalwayssaidIwasgonnabebadlikeherbadlikeHIM . . .
CRASH!
It took about five or six seconds for Buffy to realize that she'd fallen right off the table she was sitting on. She was kneeling on the floor, staring at Faith with a look of absolute horror on her face.
And then, for the second time that day, Buffy shakily got to her feet and fled from the thoughts of her dark-haired "sister."
Anger was nothing new to Faith. In fact, for the past several years it had been her single constant companion. She'd felt the helpless resentment of a child abused and neglected by her mother, the terrified fury of a Slayer who'd seen her Watcher murdered in front of her, and the slow-burning jealousy of someone told time and again that she was special . . . just not as special as someone else.
But Faith had never been in the grip of such sick-to-her-stomach, fist-clenching, heart-pounding rage as she was that evening.
She looked at me like I was some dog crap she scraped off her shoe!
She launched another kick at the practice dummy.
She thinks I'm not good enough for her precious Xander!
As the kick connected, she followed it with a devastating elbow strike that knocked the dummy's head off.
She wants to take him away from me!
Another kick to the dummy's midsection . . . which gave way with a dull crack! as the dummy fell to the ground in two pieces.
Faith stared at it, panting, furious at it for breaking and depriving her of a safe target. She knew that Miss Peel valued her few possessions, and that she'd get in real trouble if she broke anything in the apartment.
"Is it safe to come in yet?" a voice asked from behind her.
"Xander!" She whirled, and leaped into his arms, her lips crashing down on his in a kiss more possessive than affectionate.
"Mmmmrmph. MMRRRMPH!"
With a start, Faith realized she was squeezing Xander so tight his face was turning purple.
"Oh!" she gasped, letting go of him and backing up a couple of steps. Her fury at Buffy was suddenly replaced by guilt; this was exactly the kind of thing Miss Peel had been warning her about for the past few weeks. She was too strong, too powerful, to ever lose control of herself. When she did, innocent people got hurt.
Like Mr. Finch.
Like Xander.
Clenching her fists so hard her nails cut into her palms, she waited patiently while Xander gasped for breath. Then she gently laid a hand on his shoulder, and asked, "You okay, Xan? Did I hurt you?"
He smiled weakly at her. "Nah. Just a couple cracked ribs . . . and I think you may have dislocated my tonsils with your tongue."
Even as she cringed, she couldn't help but laugh. "Seriously, you all right? No matter how ticked I am at B, it's no excuse for me to hurt my best bud."
"I'm fine, Faith." Then his face turned serious. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Buffy. See, I kinda . . . sorta . . . yelled at her, this afternoon, about the way she ran out of the library . . . "
As guilty as Faith had been feeling, she had a sudden urge to jump back into Xander's arms and kiss him again. He'd told her stories about him getting mad at Buffy, but that was usually over Angel, or, the one time with the Master's followers, over Willow being in danger.
He yelled at her? Xan-man, who worships the ground B friggin' walks on, yelled at her? For me?
Xander went on. "And . . . she said it wasn't really you that made her . . . look the way she did."
She growled. "Well, it really was me she was lookin' at, like I was some kind of--"
Xander interrupted her. "Faith, she picked up some of your thoughts about your mother."
Faith's mouth dropped open, but no sound came out.
"She . . . well, she figured out a few things, and . . . she asked a few questions, and I answered a couple. Nothing too specific, but . . . " He sighed. "Her exact words were, 'Two years on the Hellmouth, you'd think I couldn't be shocked by anything a human could do, and this makes twice in one day.'"
Faith's mind was whirling. That look of . . . shock, disgust, contempt . . . had been for her mother? God knows, no one deserved that kind of look more than June Collins, but she'd never seemed to get it, not during her lifetime. Then again, the guys she hung around with? Pretty much in the same pathetic boat.
B rated the way Momma treated me right up with the stuff she's faced here in SunnyD?
Wonder if I owe her an apology for thinkin' nasty thoughts about her?
Nah. Not unless she picked 'em up with her new talent. That's takin' the goody-two-shoes thing a bit too far.
Just like that, all her rage was gone. It left her feeling oddly empty -- but still a million times better than she had felt five minutes ago.
And then what Xander had said got through to her. "Twice?"
"Yeah. You kinda missed out on the big scene in the lunchroom. Buffy fainted, we carried her out, and when she came to, she said she'd heard someone planning to kill all the students at lunchtime tomorrow. That's where we've been all afternoon -- making lists of possible suspects, interrogating the usual psychopaths . . . " He shrugged.
"Damn. As if the friggin' Mayor wasn't enough to worry about, we got high school kids goin' postal."
"Or a teacher. Buffy couldn't tell -- she didn't even know if it was a male or female 'voice.' Just that it was full of anger and pain, and almost didn't sound human."
"Crap. How's B doin'?"
"She's at home, resting. She's kinda had a rough day, y'know?"
"You don't know the half of it, Harris."
Faith and Xander both whirled at the new voice. Angel was standing in the doorway, with Miss Peel right behind him.
"Faith, Angel needs your help," the Watcher said.
"Huh. Whatcha need, Fangface?"
Xander tried -- but not very hard -- to hide a grin at Angel's scowl at Faith's quip.
"Buffy can't control the thoughts flooding into her mind. It's like dozens of voices talking in her head all the time -- and it's getting more powerful all the time. Giles . . . " He became even paler, if that were possible, and said, "Giles says that if we can't cure her, she'll go mad."
Miss Peel took over at that point. "Mr. Giles and I believe we've found a remedy for her, but it requires a heart from the same type of demon that infected Buffy. Angel is going to go out tonight to hunt it down, but . . . "
"But there's only the one other demon in town, and Buffy said these guys were pretty tough. I can't afford to let it get away. So I want you to back me up tonight, Faith."
"Waaaait a minute, Deadboy," Xander said, holding one hand up. "If Faith comes with you and gets in a fight with the demon, couldn't she get 'infected' like Buffy?"
"I don't mean for her to fight the demon hand-to-hand, Harris," the vampire growled. "That's my job. But if this thing tries to make a run for it, I could use someone at my back with a crossbow." He turned to Faith. "Will you come with me?"
Faith glanced at her Watcher. "You okay with this? You haven't exactly given me the okay to start patrollin' yet."
"I think it's time you started again. Keeping you out of the field for too long could be as harmful as sending you out too early." She glanced briefly at the demolished dummy. "Yes, Faith, I think you should go."
Faith went over to her weapons chest, and pulled out a crossbow. "All right then, Soulboy. Let's go bag us a demon."
Damn. Now I know why B lets this guy have her back, Faith thought as she watched him tackle the demon in the middle of the Sunnydale playground. Most old vampires were vicious and powerful, but Angel had something they lacked: focus. He didn't have the razor-precise skill of a Slayer, but he made up for it with a single-mindedness that impressed even Faith.
Ouch. She winced inwardly as the demon tagged Angel, but the vampire just shrugged off the hit and pounded right back.
She searched her mind for a word to describe just what it was she was seeing. Heart. He's putting his whole heart into this, 'cause it's for B.
Yeah, I guess I was wrong, B. Not all men are beasts.
Or, at least, not in a bad way, she added as Angel, in vamp-face, hammered at the demon with both fists.
Suddenly, the demon caught Angel with an uppercut that sent him staggering backwards, eyes rolling. And sure enough, it took advantage of the vampire's momentary dizziness by trying to run.
It got only three feet before Faith kneecapped it with a crossbow bolt. "You ain't goin' nowhere, sucker," she murmured with a grin, as Angel caught up with it again.
By three o'clock, Angel was taking the demon's heart back to Buffy's house for Giles' potion, and Faith was on her way home, grinning like a maniac.
Damn! Even if I had to keep at a distance tonight, it felt real good to get back into the Slaying.
Only . . . it's left me with that deep-down itch, and I don't know if Xander'll be willin' to scratch it . . . and I don't want anyone else doin' it.
That last thought surprised her a little. Usually, when that hungry-and-horny feeling hit, it didn't matter how she took care of it.
Just grab a guy, do him, and dump him. That's how it's always been.
But something inside her had changed. She didn't want just "a guy."
She wanted Xander. No one else.
Unfortunately, when she got home, Xander was already asleep, and she didn't have the heart to wake him just to "scratch her itch."
And when she woke up in the morning, he was already gone to school. And the itch was getting itchier all the time.
She grumbled and rolled over, resigned to scratching her own itch, when she remembered what Xander had told her was going to happen at school that day.
She broke the speed limit getting out of the apartment.
Okay, now I'm convinced, Buffy thought to herself as she walked towards the library. Someone Up There is getting their jollies by playing games with my life.
Yeah, she'd managed to save Jonathan from shooting himself, but she'd almost missed out on the main event. Once again, it had been Xander to the rescue -- stopping the crazed lunch lady from poisoning the entire student body with her Mulligan Stew with Rat Poison special.
Even worse, Buffy had gotten to the cafeteria about ten seconds after Faith, just in time to see the other Slayer deck the lunch lady, preventing her from chopping Xander up with her cleaver.
Then Faith had looked up, their eyes had met -- and Buffy had known they had to have a talk.
A private talk -- there was just too much stuff between them that was for Slayer ears only.
As she approached the library, where Miss Peel still held her training sessions -- the library did have all that floor space, after all -- she could hear the noise of such a session going on.
"Huh!"
Whish!
"Urgh!"
Whish!
"Hai!"
Thump-Crash!
As Buffy entered through the double doors, she saw Faith looking sheepishly down at her Watcher, who was lying on the floor, looking somewhat dazed. "Oops . . . Sorry, Miss Peel."
Miss Peel stretched obviously sore muscles, and slowly got to her feet. "Unh . . . that's quite all right, Faith. In fact, I'm impressed that you were actually able to hit me."
"Well, I am kinda stronger than you."
The Watcher shook her head. "Strength isn't enough, Faith -- that's why I've been teaching you these moves in the first place. If you had been just a half-second slower with that last kick, I could have turned it aside and counter-punched before you could have recovered."
Faith started to look embarrassed, but the Watcher continued, "The point is, you weren't that half-second slower." She rubbed her -- fortunately well-padded -- sternum thoughtfully. "I don't think there's a vampire anywhere that could've blocked that last kick -- I knew what you were planning, since I taught you that move myself, and even I couldn't stop you."
Faith grinned broadly at Miss Peel's praise, and Buffy was caught between feeling glad that Faith had finally gotten a real Watcher, and feeling jealous that Faith was getting more of Miss Peel's training time than she was.
Then she cleared her throat. "Ah . . . excuse me?"
Miss Peel looked over at her. "Yes, Buffy?"
"Could I have a . . . private talk with Faith?"
Miss Peel glanced at Faith, who nodded slightly. "Of course, Buffy. Actually, since Faith was up late last night, I was going to end her lesson early anyway, to let her catch up on her sleep. You can go home when you're done, Faith; I'll be along around supper time."
"Thanks. See ya," the dark-haired Slayer mumbled. The Watcher smiled faintly, then walked out, leaving the two girls alone.
Suddenly, all the things Buffy had been planning to say went right out of her head. She stared at Faith a moment, trying to figure out how to start this, when she remembered what Miss Peel had just said. "Um . . . Angel said you went out with him last night. Backed him up while he fought that demon."
Faith smiled. "Yeah. Y'know, B, your guy's pretty cool for an undead creature of the night. He trusted the Slayer who's not all head-over-heels for him at his back with a loaded crossbow. Now that takes some kinda guts."
Buffy smiled back. "Thanks. For helping him, I mean, not the compliment. Not that I mind you complimenting Angel, it's just . . . " She blushed, and closed her eyes slightly. "I came here with this huge list of stuff I was gonna say--"
"Forget it, B. Xander told me what you told him yesterday. Hell, you think I woulda gone out with Fangface last night if I'd still been mad at ya?"
Buffy's mouth twitched at Faith's nickname for Angel, but she pretended to ignore it. "No, Faith, I think I have to say this. I . . . Even though I apologized for going all psycho-bitchy on you last week, I was still, well . . . assuming that this thing between you and Xander was . . . um . . . "
"Just a sex thing?"
She looked down at the floor. "Well, yeah." She swallowed, to clear a suddenly dry throat. "I know that's not true anymore. And I just wanted to say . . . I'm happy for you -- both of you."
Faith stood there a while, arms crossed, staring at Buffy. Then she muttered, "Tell me one thing, B. If you're so worried about Xander's love life, why didn't you ever give him a tumble? I mean, the guy still thinks you're, like, Supergirl or somethin'. All you ever had to do was give him half a chance, and he'd've had the happy of a lifetime. Hell, I don't think he ever woulda looked at me, the cheerleader, or Red if you'd given him a shot."
Buffy sighed. "Faith . . . did Xander ever tell you about the time last year when he had Amy cast a love spell that went kablooie?"
Faith gave her a suspicious look. "Yeah."
"He ever tell you what I did when I was under that spell?"
The other Slayer's eyes narrowed even more. "He said you made a play for him, but Amy turned you into a rat before anything could happen."
Buffy felt a sad little half-smile appear on her face. "That's . . . well, that's pretty much what I figured he'd say."
Faith took a half-step toward her. "You sayin' Xan lied to me, B?"
Buffy held her hands up defensively. "No, no . . . just that he left out the most embarrassing parts of that story . . . for both of us." She pointed towards the library doors. "Xander was in here, and I came through those doors, wearing nothing but a short leather coat . . . and then I told him it was a party . . . and asked if he was gonna open his present."
Despite the fact that she still looked annoyed, Faith let out a bark of laughter. "Damn, B! Didn't know you had it in ya!"
"Believe me, I didn't either." She swallowed again. "Anyway, I kept walking towards him, and he kept backing away, looking turned-on and pee-his-pants scared at the same time. And then . . . "
"Yeah?" Faith was looking suspicious again.
"He said he couldn't do it. He couldn't take advantage of me while I was under a spell, because the possibility that I might really feel anything for him meant too much to him." Buffy gave a sad little half-smile. "Some speech, huh? At the time, since I was all love-crazed, I took it as a rejection . . . but once I was myself again, I realized that it was probably the nicest, most romantic thing that anyone had ever said to me."
Buffy took a deep breath. "After all the wackiness was over, I went home, and I stayed up half the night wondering what I was going to say to Xander the next day. And I asked myself the same question you just asked me about a zillion times.
"Angel had lost his soul, and I had no idea I could ever get him back. Cordelia had broken up with Xander, and broken his heart so completely he resorted to the Dark Arts for revenge. Xander was a nice, normal guy. He knew about all the Slayer stuff, and he hadn't run away screaming. He . . . he'd all but said he loved me. Why couldn't I just give in, make my life so much easier, and try being with him?"
She fell silent, and after a few seconds, Faith snapped, "Well?"
"I just couldn't do it. You can't make yourself feel something you don't, Faith. I liked Xander . . . maybe loved him, like a brother or something . . . and yeah, maybe there were some warm, fuzzy feelings when I remembered what he said to me. But I just didn't feel about him the way he felt about me. And as cruel as it seemed to keep saying 'No' to him . . . I think it would've been crueler to say 'Yes' if I didn't really mean it.
"Xander doesn't deserve a lie, Faith. He deserves to be with someone who loves him as much as you do."
Now it was the other Slayer who turned pale and gulped. "B-"
"Faith, please. Don't . . . don't cheapen what you feel for him. Willow told me last week she thought you loved him. I didn't believe her . . . until I felt it. I don't know if it was a Slayer thing or what, but I got more than thoughts from you . . . I felt what you were feeling. It was bright, and strong, and . . . " She couldn't help smirking a little. "It wasn't exactly pure . . . but it was good. If that wasn't love I was getting from you, it's because they haven't invented a strong enough word yet."
Faith's mouth hung open for a bit, and then she said quietly, "Did . . . did you mean what you said earlier? That you were happy for us?"
"Yeah. You deserve to be with someone who loves you too, Faith. And I don't need to be a mind-reader to see that Xander's crazy about you."
Faith gave her a small smile. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. And there's something else, Faith -- something I just realized when I saw you two in the cafeteria today. With the rest of us girls, Xander always tries to be the comic relief. But you, Faith -- you bring out the grown-up in him."
Buffy paused, suddenly thoughtful. "Huh. Maybe that's why you two fell so fast for each other -- you both bring out the best in each other."
Faith blinked in surprise at her, then shook her head. "Damn, B . . . Buffy. Why'd you have to become a friggin' mind-reader for us to have this little chat?"
Something about Faith's question suddenly made Buffy feel very sad. She'd thought she'd tried as hard as she could to get close to Faith since she'd shown up in Sunnydale . . . but she must've done something wrong, at some point, for them to end up like this. "I don't know, Faith."
A sudden, inappropriate grin appeared on Buffy's face. "Did I ever tell you about Kendra?"
Faith's brow crinkled in confusion. "Uh-uh."
"First time I met her, she tried to kill me with a hatchet."
Faith chuckled, and Buffy went on. "She was, like, the ultimate Slayer -- at least by the Council's standards. Her fighting was precise, controlled . . . perfect. She knew the books almost as good as Giles. She even knew the Slayer's Handbook forwards and backwards--"
"There's a handbook?"
For the first time in weeks, the two Slayers found themselves laughing together.
After talking a long time -- Faith had been fascinated by Buffy's stories about her predecessor, and highly amused by the blonde Slayer's attempts to imitate her accent -- Faith finally said, "Now what?"
Buffy started to shrug, and then a wicked thought came into her head. "Now, I think we Slayers owe a certain young man, one Xander Harris, a debt of gratitude for saving hundreds of innocent lives today. I think we owe him a personal thank-you . . . and I think I know which Slayer he'd like to get a great big thank-you from."
Faith's eyes widened, and then she returned Buffy's grin. "B, I may thank him so much he won't be able to make it to school tomorrow."
Xander was feeling pretty good about himself that afternoon. For the second time in less than a month, he -- Alexander Lavelle Harris -- was the hero of the moment. And he had no need to either shout it out to the world or keep it a deep, dark secret.
Everyone at school already knew.
As the police were hauling the lunch lady away -- and surprisingly, taking the time to thank Xander and Faith for capturing a dangerous psychotic -- Principal Snyder had looked like he was chewing on his own liver. That by itself was almost worth the moment or two when he'd thought he was going to be chopped into hamburger.
And then there were all those grateful looks on the faces of the girls in the cafeteria. Xander grinned. There was a time when he would've tried to make something out of those looks -- and most likely ended up making a big fool of himself. Instead, he'd just given them a small smile, tipped a non-existent hat, and gone in search of some food that wasn't full of rat poison.
Damn if I didn't pull off Oz-level cool back there, he thought smugly.
His self-congratulatory thoughts were cut off as he heard the front door open. "Hey Xan, where are ya?" he heard Faith call.
He grinned as he came into the main room to greet her. "What's up?" he asked. "Miss Peel let you out of training early?"
Faith dropped the gear she was carrying. "Yeah. Said I should catch up on my sleep." Then she turned to Xander and gave him an evil-looking smirk. "But I can think of better ways to spend my time."
"Oh. Ah . . . and I guess you're thinking, maybe, um . . . "
In a flash, she had crossed the room and thrown her arms around him. "I'm thinking that you deserve a big reward for saving all those people today. And I'm thinking that last night's skulking around, taking potshots at a demon without getting any action, left me with an itch like you wouldn't believe." Then she planted her lips on his.
That kiss just about turned Xander's legs to jello, but somehow, he still managed to protest, "No, wait, Faith . . . stop."
She pulled back, a hurt expression appearing on her face. "Don't . . . don't you want me?"
He chuckled in spite of his anxiety. "Good God, Faith, how could I not want you? It's just . . . the way you were just talking, about 'having an itch' -- that's how it was that night, too. You didn't care who you took to bed; I just happened to be the first guy within reach. I want our next time to be something special . . . you know, dinner and candles and flowers and all that stuff. I . . . I want to make love with you, Faith -- not just scratch your itches."
Faith put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "God, Xander. How can you be so nice and so annoying at the same time? Any other guy would've had his pants off already, and you're just standing there, saying all these nice things . . . and I'm . . . God, Xander, I'm just about ready to bust! I've never been this horny in my life, and I've been waiting twelve freakin' hours, and now . . . " She chewed on her lip. "Xander, if I don't get a little relief soon, I'm afraid I'll attack you or somethin'."
Xander swallowed. There were probably guys who had fantasies like this, but the possibility of Faith losing control of herself really did scare him -- she was strong enough to do some serious damage, even accidentally. And if she hurt him . . . "Um . . . I meant what I said about wanting to wait for the right time, but . . . you know, I could just . . . well . . . give you a little . . . um, relief . . . but not, ah, take my pants off."
Faith's grin slowly came back. "You know Xan-man, if you just don't wanna have sex -- at least, according to the Bill Clinton definition -- there's still a whole lotta stuff we can do. And I do still owe you that reward . . . " With a sudden rush, she grabbed him by his shirt and practically hauled him into the bedroom.
Joyce had left a message on the machine for Buffy that afternoon, saying Rupert had surprised her with a dinner invitation, and strongly suggesting that she microwave the meatloaf in the fridge instead of ordering a pizza.
She'd also told her daughter to expect her around nine, but it was quarter to ten by the time they got home. To their surprise, Buffy was waiting on the couch, and the moment they came in, she jumped up with an eager, "Well? C'mon, guys, spill!"
Joyce and Rupert gave each other bemused looks, then turned back to Buffy. Joyce was biting the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing as Rupert asked, "Spill what, Buffy?"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, puh-lease. I know you guys go to some nice places sometimes, but Varelli's is like, the fanciest place in town. You're up to something, Giles."
Joyce sighed, and held up her left hand, showing off an emerald-and-diamond ring.
Buffy let out a scream and rushed them, pulling them both into a Slayer-hug that nearly cracked ribs. Rupert let out an "Oof!" while Joyce was barely able to squeak as the air was suddenly driven out of her lungs.
"Oops, sorry," Buffy said, relaxing her grip only slightly. "And congratulations!" She stood up on tip-toe to kiss both her mother and Rupert on the cheek -- to the Watcher's intense embarrassment.
Then she suddenly turned a mock glare on her Watcher. "And hey! How come I couldn't tell you were planning this, with the mind-reading and everything?"
Rupert, who was still red in the face from being kissed, turned even redder. "Well, that is, you see . . . I only just decided to do it this afternoon. I had been planning to wait until after the Council's visit, but . . . " He gave Joyce a fond look and murmured, "After all our talks about love, and how special it is . . . I just decided I couldn't wait any longer."
Buffy looked impressed. "Wow. Stuffy British guy does the impulse thing. I like," she said with a grin.
"Band candy aside, his impulses are pretty good, Buffy," her mother commented.
"Yeah. I know about Cordelia," Buffy said, tapping the side of her head. "And hey, the band candy got you guys together, so I'm thinkin' Giles is batting a thousand here."
"Oh please, you'll swell my head," he protested -- somewhat half-heartedly.
A light came into Buffy's eyes. "Ooo! I gotta tell Wills she won the bet!" she cried.
The happy couple gave the Slayer hard looks. "Bet?" they said, amused and annoyed at the same time.
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
Oz figured that sound was probably a happy squeal coming from his girlfriend, as opposed to a cry for help. But in Sunnydale, it never hurt to be sure, so he put down the tea he'd been making for the two of them and rushed into the living room.
"Details, details!" Willow was shouting into the phone. "How big was the ring? Where did he do it? When's the big day?"
Oz grinned, and retreated back into the kitchen. Definitely a good thing I insisted on decaf tonight.
He'd had to reheat the mugs in the microwave by the time Willow's babblefest was finished, but it was well worth it to watch her as she danced around the room, singing, "I won the be-et! I won the be-et!"
Finally she exhausted herself to the point where she needed to sit down and have some of her tea, and between sips Oz got the whole story.
Giles had invited Mrs. Summers out to the nicest restaurant in town, proposed, and given her a to-die-for-gorgeous engagement ring. The wedding was tenatively set for June 26th, to give both of them a chance to invite their families and friends.
And yes, Willow had won the bet. She, Oz, and Xander had each put fifteen dollars in the pool, which left Willow a grand total of--
"Forty-five dollars! What can I do with forty-five dollars? I could buy something! I could buy a couple videos! I could buy some music!" Then she glanced over at Oz and smiled. "I could take my boyfriend out to dinner."
Oz pursed his lips and nodded. "All of which sound like very good ideas. The last one seems particularly appealing to me."
"I thought you might like it." Then her expression changed into one of innocent speculation. "Of course, if you made me some popcorn . . . and shared this nice big snuggly blanket with me . . . while we watched a movie . . . you might be able to convince me."
"Regular or extra butter?"
"Oh, extra butter, of course."
"Okay. But I pick the movie. Deal?"
"Deal. As long as it's a comedy, and not Spinal Tap. I'm in a good mood; I don't wanna see spontaneously-combusting drummers tonight."
Angel looked up as he heard a familiar footstep. "Buffy? Aren't you supposed to be resting tonight?"
The Slayer gave him a wry grin as she strolled into the mansion. "Couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind."
"Like . . . ?"
"Like my mom and Giles getting engaged."
Angel's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Wow. Good for them -- it's about time Giles asked her."
"Yeah. Too bad a certain someone didn't actually bother to ask, huh?" She held up the claddagh ring, rolling it between her fingers for emphasis.
She took it off, he thought sadly. He'd tricked her into wearing it in the way that meant "marriage," but still, it was disappointing to see that once she knew what it meant, she'd removed it.
Buffy stared down at the ring, looking thoughtful. "You know, I asked for Willow's help, looking up the symbolism of these things. Once I knew where to look, it was amazing how much stuff we found. I know all the different ways to wear it -- left hand, right hand, point in, point out, whatever. And tonight, seeing my mom and Giles together . . . I made a decision."
Very deliberately, she put the ring on -- heart pointing inward, on her right-hand ring finger.
Angel gulped. "You know what that means?"
"Uh-huh. It means I'm promised to someone. Engaged. And somehow, someday, I plan on moving this ring back to my left hand."
"Buffy . . . "
"Yeah, I know, 'I'm a vampire, you're a Slayer, it can never work, blah blah blah.' Angel, I'm tired of being told what I can and can't have. There are things I'm willing to give up -- things that don't really matter, like cheerleading, or being Homecoming Queen, stuff like that.
She walked up to Angel and laid her hands on his chest. "You are one of the things I won't give up. If I'm going to spend the rest of my life fighting to save the world, I'm going to do it with the man I love at my side."
"But the curse . . . "
"Watchers' Council, coming to visit us in a couple weeks, remember? English guys in suits, with books on just about anything magic-y? I'll bet if they really tried, they could find a solution to your little curse problem. After all, now they know you're not just the weird vampire who helps the Slayer, you're a warrior with an all-important destiny. Kinda like yours truly, huh?"
She tilted her head to the side a moment, looking up at him quizzically, then said, "Of course, to make this all official, someone here should be on their knees, asking a question."
Angel was down on his knees in a flash. She really has me whipped, he thought to himself. Then again, he thought, the traditionalist in him would've been deeply embarrassed if Buffy had tried to go down on her knees to propose to him.
Well, here he was, down on his knees in front of the girl of his dreams. There was only one thing he could do . . . "Buffy Anne Summers . . . will you marry me?"