Destiny Found

Interludes in the Destiny Lost Series

Authors: carynsilver and Sonya

E-mail: carynsilver@yahoo.com or sonyajeb@swbell.net

Rating: PG to PG-13, depending on the story.

Category: B/X, Sonya/O, A/F, G/J, C/D, friendships between all the Destiny Lost characters, AU, relationship oriented

Disclaimer: We do not own Buffy or any of the original characters or ideas from the show. They all belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, etc. (But since they don't seem to want Doyle any more ::sob:: can we have him?) All we own is our own creative genius (unless that's too strong a word :) and any characters we make up, such as Sonya Parker and Aidan O'Shea.

Spoilers: Basic BtVS mythology and vampire/slayer lore. Not much for specific episodes of the show, but heavy spoilers for the earlier installments of this fanfic series!

Chronology: These one-shots all take place after ISOJ and before the fourth installment of this series, In the Space of a Lifetime. We compiled them into one page for the website, but originally each one was released separately.

Author's Note: The purpose of Destiny Found is to advance and characterize the relationships (both romantic and platonic) for the characters of the Destiny Lost buffyverse (i.e. there won't be many bad guys to fight, if any). Keep in mind that, though Buffy and/or Xander don't appear/star in all of these stories, this is a B/X, Xander-centric buffyverse. Also, because these stories are crucial character development for our massive cast, missing them will leave you confused when ISOL comes out. Reading all of the preceding stories in Destiny Found (ISOH, ISOD, and ISOJ, especially), is recommended.

Brief Recap: At the end of ISOJ, Giles and Xander stayed in England with the newly un-vamped and reformed Watchers Council. Giles took over training new Watchers, and Xander started training to become a Watcher himself. Aidan O’Shea took over the post in Sunnydale as Buffy’s watcher. He is now Faith, Rio, and Sonya’s guardian, as well. Doyle moved to Sunnydale. Buffy and Xander are in a long-distance relationship. Faith and Angel are in an undefined relationship. Sonya and Oz are dancing around a relationship. Rio stayed in town to make up for crimes committed when under a blood oath to Terrance in ISOJ. Rio and Amy train with Jenny Calendar. Amy and Buffy are best friends. Xander and Sonya are best friends.

Part 1: The Midnight Hour

The Condo

"That's my shirt!"

Faith looked at Sonya and arched a brow in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

Sonya glared accusingly at Faith across the messy bedroom. "That black T-shirt you just put on -- it's mine!"

"I don't think so." Faith brushed the soft, black material with her black-tipped fingernails. "I got this shirt just last week... at the mall!"

"Little Miss Black Spandex at the mall. That's rich!" A snort of disbelief escaped from Sonya's mouth. Then her scowl deepened. "First you invade my room. Now you invade my closet? I think it's time for you to get the hell outta here!"

Faith wouldn't back down from an argument, especially not with Sonya, queen of the mood swings. Even if she had "borrowed" the shirt, she was never going to admit it now.

"Girls! What can the problem be this time?"

Both girls turned their glares on the dark haired boy standing in the doorway.

"Shove it, Rio," Faith told him. The recently reformed warlock (a boy Faith didn't trust as far as she could throw him... though Faith didn't trust many people) always set her teeth on edge. Being forced to deal with someone who tried to kill you -- blood oath or no blood oath -- would do that to a relationship. "This condo's not big enough for the three of us."

Rio looked at his former leader quizzically. "Don't you mean the four of us?"

"Yeah, Aidan lives here, too, and he is supposed to be in charge of our happy, little commune," Sonya added with only a touch of bitterness. When the Council forced Giles into retirement as Active Watcher and gave him a new post as Training Master in England, even Faith could tell that Sonya had not been happy about the switch. But over the past couple of weeks, Sonya was starting to learn to appreciate Aidan. She appreciated that he knew not to try and take the father role with the three teens placed under his care by the Council. Being only 25 years old, Aidan wasn't that far ahead of them.

"You think I don't know that?" Faith returned, using her most snide tone of voice. At this point in her life, Faith appreciated Aidan's "live and let live" policy, too. There was no way Faith would have submitted to house rules again. She had grudgingly agreed to give high school another try, but only because, as the best of her former trainers, and apparently the only Watcher she'd known who was trustworthy, Aidan had really wanted her to. And it was only a trial run. She could, and would, quit any time she wanted to.

Since Aidan, Buffy and the rest of the gang had gotten back from England, Giles's old condo had become a halfway house for those dependent on the Council. Rio had stayed on the Hellmouth to make restitution for his crimes -- the length of time required had yet to be determined -- and Faith, as a potential Slayer, one of the Council's hand-trained operatives and someone determined to make Rio pay in full for his sins, stayed on by choice. A choice backed up by the request of new Watcher Proconsul Gwendolyn Post. The downside... Sonya and Faith had to share a room.

"Sometimes I wonder," Sonya shot back. Her gaze turned to Rio. "I'm tempted to move in with you!"

Faith's eyes brightened. In a high, phony voice, she cried, "Oh, yes, please do! It would be so... so... cozy!"

Rio smirked. "Yeah, right. I don't think the couch in Aidan's library is big enough for all of us. Later, ladies."

"Where are you going?" Faith was quick to ask, always suspicious.

Rio slanted a gaze at her. "Where do you think?"

"Um... to Wal-Mart to pick out some trendy new clothes?" Faith asked in a saccharine tone.

"To patrol," Rio replied. "I'm meeting Buffy at the bookstore after her training session with Aidan. Then we're going to sweep a few cemeteries."

Sonya's gaze slid from Rio to Faith. Sensing a storm brewing, Sonya forgot about the shirt, picked up her backpack and headed for the door. As she pushed past Rio, she said, "Please, no bloodstains on my carpet, all right? When we finally move out of this place and into the new house, I don't want Giles to lose a subletting tenant because you two couldn't keep the claws sheathed." With a fake smile and a three-fingered wave, Sonya headed down the stairs and out the front door. A faint, "Bye, y'all," wafted back on the breeze from the slamming door.

That left Faith and Rio staring at each other. "You're going on patrol with Buffy?" Her incredulous tone left none of her feelings to the imagination.

"And why not?" Rio shot back. "She, at least, lets me do more than trail behind her like a whipped puppy."

"Then she's a fool," Faith said with venom. "But she's only known you a couple of weeks. You haven't been able to plot against her yet."

Rio sighed deeply. "You're never going to forget the past, are you Faith?"

"Not a chance, buster."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Rio demanded, his black eyes snapping with suppressed anger. "I'm doing my best to make up for what I did."

"Can you ever make up for killing innocent people?"

"Technically," Rio said, "I never killed anyone. Angel killed Terrance before he forced me to kill you, and as for the others, well, I just helped them dispose of the bodies."

"You never trapped anyone for them to feed on?" Faith asked. "You never played lookout so that I wouldn't find out what they were doing?"

A hot flush colored Rio's cheeks. She knew she'd hit on something. "News flash, Rio. Those things led to innocent deaths just as much as if you'd killed them yourself."

His eyes blazed into hers, the brown-black a vivid contrast to his pale face. "I know that more than you do, Faith. I lived it. I see them in my sleep night after night. And I'm here doing what I can to make things right. I know they'll never be right again, but at least I can try. That's more than I can say for some people."

"Terrance and Nicole are dead!" Faith spat. "They'll never get the chance to try. I would have loved the chance to make them, but someone had me bound to a table, ready to spill my blood."

A pained look flashed across Rio's face. "Yes, Nicole is dead. If she had lived, she would have tried to make restitution, but she didn't. Nicole didn't deserve what the Council gave her, and now she never gets another chance."

There was something more there. Faith could sense it. It wasn't possible that Rio had had "feelings" for Nicole, was it? Searching her memory, she remembered plenty of times when her subordinates had clashed, annoying her and each other. But that was mostly Terrance clashing with everyone. Now that she thought about it, Nicole and Rio... well... they had been almost chummy compared to the others.

"Were you and Nicole... a couple?" The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

"What Nicole and I were is none of your business," Rio said frantically. "Drop it!"

"Everything that concerns you is my business," Faith replied. "I'm your keeper, and I'm going to make damn sure that you stay kept!"

His hand flashed out and grabbed her wrist. His grip tightened until it hurt. She tried to wrench away, but couldn't. "Leave Nicole out of this. In fact, never say her name again."

"Or what?" Faith returned defiantly. "You'll kill me?"

The anger vanished from his face, leaving him deflated. He let her go. Faith smiled triumphantly, but somehow the victory seemed hollow.

"Buffy's waiting," Rio said quietly. "I'm leaving now. If you think she's really in danger, then come. I don't care." He turned his back on her and started walking down the stairs.

Faith watched him go, openmouthed for a second. What was this? She was supposed to get the last word. Her relationship with Rio was supposed to be simple -- Faith was right, and Rio was wrong, case closed. So how come she didn't feel vindicated after making him pay a little more?

I should follow him, she thought reluctantly. Then she shook her head. The front door closed, and she knew she was alone in the house. Aidan was still out, preparing his new bookstore for its grand opening. "I'm not going to do that," she said aloud. "Buffy is a big girl, and the Slayer. She knows the score, and she knows what Rio is capable of. It will be fine."

"Besides," she added, looking balefully at her schoolbooks sitting on the desk. "I've got homework."

The Streets of Sunnydale

Angel walked down the street toward Riverside Park. Vampires loved to prey on unsuspecting couples who mistakenly thought a park the perfect place for a lovey-dovey interlude.

Lovey-dovey, right! Angel thought disgruntledly. More like sex au natural, or at least close to it! When I was their age... That train of thought made him smirk. Who was he kidding? When he was their age he was whoring and boozing it up almost every night at the local tavern. Liam had been... well, reprehensible wasn't nearly strong enough to describe his human self.

"All right, Angel," the souled vampire ordered himself. "Quit with the self pity party. It's no fun if there's no one to lament with you."

Angel knew he had to keep his mind on the job at hand. He had to quit letting his emotions take over. He had to put everything non-essential aside and concentrate on his patrolling. Just because Buffy had been back for over two weeks, but had been too depressed about Xander's absence to even talk to him shouldn't be a big deal. But it was. Missing his friend, his pseudo-little brother -- Xander hadn't even called to tell Angel what was up, of course, Xander was probably busier than Angel could imagine, but still -- could actually be a big deal, but not right now.

Then there was his uneasy relationship with Aidan. The new Watcher was trying to follow Giles's recommendation and trust him, but the vampire posing as a trustworthy member of the Council had put a dent in Aidan's relationship with Angel before the two had even met. Jenny trusted him, mostly, but even with the computer teacher/witch, Angel could sense some unease. Would he never outlive his past? He had less of a chance of doing that than Rio did. And Rio was another worry. Faith and Jenny were being really hard on the boy. Angel was doing his best to make sure the young warlock didn't snap under the pressure, but it was hard.

And then there was the one thing that was on his mind night and day. Even when he slept. Faith. While Buffy and the others had been gone over Spring Break, Angel and Faith had formed an unlikely alliance. The vampire with a soul and a Council-trained commando leader with a chip on her shoulder about vampires, soul or no soul. They'd consummated that alliance, too. Angel still wasn't quite sure how that one happened. One second they'd been fighting, the next they were in a tequila-drinking competition, and then they were between the sheets. They'd had a few more rough-and-tumble interludes, but never once had either of them hinted at deeper feelings for the other.

Angel had no clue what Faith thought of the whole thing. He knew that he found her sexy, just as much as he found her irritating and headstrong. The potential Slayer was definitely no Buffy, that was for sure. But did she have to be?

He shook his head, trying, unsuccessfully, to clear away the emotion-filled cobwebs. It was probably over anyway. He'd barely seen Faith since the night he, Jenny and Amy had rescued her from her mutinying team of commandos. She'd been occupied with school, getting settled into the condo, and with Rio.

Suddenly, he heard something that made his thoughts switch from emotional junk to business. A rustling in the underbrush to his left. Angel cocked his head and listened. Quickly, but with a light, soundless gait, he began to follow the noise. When he heard a scream he began to run.

Angel found the culprit near the merry-go-round. Two teenagers has been lying on the metal contraption, obviously involved in a heavy make out session, at least until the feral vampire jumped on them.

Without waiting to see what the feral would do, Angel leapt on it and pulled it off the merry-go-round. The girl was crying and calling out her boyfriend's name.

The feral fought back with claws and fangs, but it was awkward. They all were. Angel held the creature off and squinted into its face. There was one feral he would recognize on sight. The one that had brought him a warning about the commandos. But this wasn't the same one. It looked younger, newer, hungrier.

Finding his stake easily, Angel rammed it into the feral's heart. The animalistic vampire crumbled into dust in his arms. Angel turned to the couple on the merry-go-round.

"Bobby!" the girl wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Angel gently moved her aside and examined the victim. He'd been bitten, and drained a little, but from what Angel could tell, Bobby had passed out from fright, not blood loss. Angel reached into the inside pocket of his black trench coat and pulled out a small vial of smelling salts. Stuff like that came in handy when one worked on the Hellmouth. He waved the vial under the boy's nose, and Bobby started to come to.

"Take him to the hospital," Angel advised the girl. "Take a cab."

"What... what was that thing?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Angel shook his head. He hated lying, but some humans just wouldn't be able to deal. From the looks of the girl, she was right on the edge. Vampire wouldn't be a good answer for her to hear. Angel helped her get the boy up to his feet before he replied, "Wild dog."

Just before the couple left, the bushes started rustling again. Angel turned swiftly, ready to stop the ferals from finishing off the other one's dinner. The leaves parted and someone sprang out. It was Buffy. She crashed into him and they both staggered back. The couple looked surprised to see more people.

"Buffy," Angel said.

"Angel," Buffy replied, looking up at him in surprise as she found her balance again.

"Angel."

The vampire looked over to see Rio stepping out into the clearing by the playground. Angel was actually relieved to see the warlock. "Rio, can you help these two find a cab. She's got to get him to the hospital."

Rio glanced at Buffy.

"Go ahead," she said. He nodded and went, no questions asked. Once a commando, always a commando, Angel supposed.

After Rio and the couple were out of earshot, Angel frowned and said, "I thought you two were on cemetery duty tonight." Aidan didn't communicate with Angel very much, but at least they had always exchanged patrolling schedules before.

"We caught wind of a feral and tracked it," Buffy explained.

"Ah." Angel gestured to the layer of dust coating the merry-go-round. "Found it dining on them. Dusted it. Needless to say, the young lovers won't be hanging out in parks again anytime soon."

Buffy nodded. "Good save. I wouldn't have gotten here in time."

"You can't be everywhere." Angel looked into the Slayer's eyes. Every time he saw her, he was reminded of the first time, the time he'd peered at her through the shoe polish-covered windows of Whistler's car. The day of her crippling accident. She'd been in his heart ever since. Angel knew Buffy loved Xander, and that Xander loved Buffy; and Angel respected that. But sometimes he couldn't help but wish things had been different...

"Lucky them, there was a cab driving down the street as soon as we got away from the park." Rio chose that moment to reappear, interrupting the moment, whatever it was. The warlock looked at Buffy. "Should we go?"

Angel inwardly cursed himself for allowing those feelings to come up again.

"Yeah," Buffy answered. "We've got several more cemeteries to cover." She glanced back at Angel. "You OK on your own?"

For a second, Angel thought she might offer to let him patrol with them, but she didn't. That was when he noticed the purple smudges under her eyes. "Buffy, are you feeling all right?" Slayers didn't get sick, at least, not physically sick, very often -- their healing factor took care of that. Heartsick, however, was another matter.

"I'm fine," Buffy answered, pasting a smile on her lips. "Just still adjusting back into the normal groove of school and patrol. Kind of hard after a mayhem-filled Spring Break."

She turned to go. Angel touched her arm. "I miss him, too."

Buffy flashed him a quick smile. "Thanks." And then she left, Rio by her side.

Angel stood alone in the park for a moment. The bells in the nearby church started to chime. Midnight. He sighed. Though it was early on his nocturnal clock, he was tired, really tired. And it wasn't from fighting the feral, either. It was time to go home.

The Condo

The big red numbers on Sonya's digital clock read 12:00 a.m. Faith sighed and pushed her geometry book away harder than was really necessary. It crashed to the floor, taking her half-completed homework with it.

"Why did I agree to do this?" Faith asked herself. "I'm so not good at the school thing. Aidan should have known that." Studying for a history exam should never be followed by 20 math problems, at least not in Faith's opinion. Her brain was exhausted, but her body, which had been kept motionless for far too long, was antsy.

Faith stood up and looked at herself in the mirror over Sonya's dresser. The tight, soft, black T-shirt accentuated her curves almost as well as the spandex she wore to patrol in. Skin-tight black jeans hugged her hips and thighs. She pulled the rubber band from her pony tail and let her dark hair fall free around her shoulders. It curled just a little around the ends.

"You go, girl," Faith said to her reflection. "You look way too good to be sitting around here. There's got to be some fun somewhere calling your name." She riffled through Sonya's make up drawer until she found a crimson shade of lipstick. The tube was almost new. Obviously too much for her goody-goody roommate. Faith coated her lips and made a kissy face at her reflection. "Perfect." She slid the tube of lipstick and a couple of other necessities into her pocket, tucked a stake into the waistband of her jeans and then walked downstairs and out the front door.

Faith wandered around Sunnydale, looking for the action. It was relatively non-existent. Her favorite bar down by the waterfront didn't suit her tonight. She didn’t want to drive all the way to Calvin to hit The Cellar. She tried a couple of other places, but nothing seemed to suit her mood. She was too antsy to settle for anything of the norm.

She let her feet lead her, and suddenly found herself standing in front of a familiar apartment building. Faith pursed her lips for a minute. Did she really want to see Angel? Even if he wasn't a vampire, the guy would have made her uneasy. But he was damn sexy. She'd been avoiding him since the others came home from England. Something about their whole situation made her uncomfortable. Maybe it was the fact that, though their relationship was mostly physical, he was definitely more than the wham-bam-thank-you-sir she was used to. Exactly what he was to her, Faith didn't know. But it was exciting and scary at the same time.

Finally, she just decided to go for it. A few steps later, she was at his door. Of course, she could have just knocked. But she didn't know if he would be there. He might be out on patrol. It was still early for him. Pulling her lock pick out of her pocket (one lesson Aidan had taught her was to always be prepared -- just like the boy scouts, but more demony), she had the door open in several seconds flat. The door fell away to reveal Angel standing there staring at her.

"Faith," he said quietly. "I thought it was you."

"You can read minds now?" Faith inquired in a mock-sweet tone as she strolled into his apartment.

Angel shook his head. "No. But when the person outside my door decided to break and enter, I figured it was you. Everyone else knocks."

"Do you ever have other visitors?"

"Not often." Angel closed the door behind her and walked back into the room. A bottle of Scotch and a glass sat on the table. He splashed a little more into the glass, and then offered, "Want some?" He motioned to some glasses on the bar.

Faith grabbed the bottle instead and took a swig. Lowering the bottle, she licked her scarlet lips and said, "That's good stuff, but aren't you worried about corrupting a minor?"

Angel snorted and knocked back some of his drink. "Not hardly. You were corrupted long before I met you."

She smirked. "You're probably right." She set the bottle down and walked over until she was right in front of him. As long as I'm here... she thought. Faith leaned up and brushed his lips with hers.

Angel hesitated for a minute. "Shouldn't we...?" he started to say.

"No." She kissed him harder for good measure.

Angel could never say no to her this way. He grabbed her tightly around the waist, not caring when his glass hit the floor and broke into several pieces. Then he lifted her up into his arms and carried her over to the bed.

A long time later, two very sated individuals stared up at the ceiling in silence. Angel rolled over and looked at Faith. Her crimson lipstick was long gone, but her hair was sexily tousled and looked great covering his pillow. His red bedspread haphazardly covered her body, revealing only a few enticing glimpses.

"Faith," he asked suddenly, "why did you come here tonight?"

She rolled over and looked at him, but her gaze skittered away from his eyes, lingering instead on his bare chest and the line of hair that disappeared under the silk sheets. "I got bored."

He frowned. "I don't think so."

"What do you mean?" Faith stretched lazily and rumpled his hair even more with her fingers. "I needed a break from the homework thing. Something to stimulate more than just my mind."

Angel shook his head. "If that was all you wanted, why come here. There are plenty of guys..."

"Yeah, but I already know we're compatible." Faith leaned in to kiss him again, but Angel pulled away. Faith's expression went from relaxed to guarded and angry in one brief moment.

"Did something else happen?" Angel asked, remembering the last time she'd come over, running away from a death she blamed herself for not stopping. "Something that upset you?"

Her gaze shuttered even more. "Like I'd tell you."

"You can," Angel said. "If this doesn't make us at least friends, then something's wrong here."

Faith glared at him. "If all we're gonna do is play Jeopardy, I'm outta here."

Angel ran possibilities for what might be making Faith upset through his mind, and she got up and started throwing on her clothes. He stood up and put on his black, silk robe. He knew she was dealing with school again for the first time in a long while, but that didn't seem enough to make her seek him out, not compared to the last time. Then it hit him. It should have been obvious from the start.

"It's Rio, isn't it?"

She stopped in the midst of dressing, letting the hem of the T-shirt fall to her midriff unaided. That and a pair of black panties covered her nudity, leaving her shapely legs to distract him. But Angel wouldn't be distracted.

"Can I help, Faith? I've been doing the restitution thing for a while..."

"I don't need any help."

The words came out tough, but Angel didn't believe them. He'd seen that look on her face once before, the last time she'd come calling in the middle of the night. Faith was on the edge emotionally.

"Everyone needs help once in a while," Angel said quietly. "What happened with Rio? It might help to talk about it. Did you two have another fight, did you say things, do things, things you didn't mean?" He paused, and then tried again. "Or maybe it's Aidan, or Sonya. Is living with them working out? Adjusting to school must be hard, too..." He tried to mention every single thing that might be hurting her, but she had heard enough.

"I'm not doing this!" Faith yelled. She reached for her jeans and tried to put them on, but somehow she couldn't see very well. Something clouded her vision. The more she struggled, the worse it got. Then Angel reached over and gently took the pants away. Then he just looked at her with his soulful eyes.

That did it. Her face crumpled, and she started to cry. Not silent, little girl tears, but the real thing, gut-wrenching sobs and all. Angel took her in his arms again, but this time he did it with the utmost tenderness and no sexual context at all. He took her back to the bed and sat them down. He let her cry against him for as long as she needed.

When the sobs finally died down, Faith looked up and yelled, "I hate Sunnydale! My life has been fu... messed up ever since I got here. I lost my command, I almost died, and now I'm down to living with a guardian, going to high school and babysitting a warlock."

Angel rubbed her back, glad that the sobs had finally eased. Every once in a while one still shook her body, but with less and less frequency.

"I saw Buffy with Rio tonight," he said quietly. "At least you don't have to baby-sit him all the time."

Faith looked away.

"What?" Angel urged.

"I... I was really mean to him," Faith confessed. "It shouldn't bother me. I mean, he tried to kill me, and helped kill so many others. He deserves what he gets, right?"

Angel sighed. He knew more about this than he had ever wanted to. "Yes, he deserves what he gets. But, Faith, maybe giving him what he deserves isn't your job."

She didn't yell at him or push him away. Angel took that as a good sign. "Maybe you're supposed to help him get back on the right track. I know that, even with a soul, I never would have gotten where I am now if not for a few people... Whistler, Buffy, Giles, Xander... Before they came into my life, I was disgusting. I lived like a homeless man, hiding in alleys, feeding on rats. I didn't even know you could buy animal blood at a butcher shop."

Faith looked up at him. A tiny smile curved her lips as she tried to picture that. "Really?"

"Really."

She leaned back against him and sighed. "I don't know if I can just forgive and forget with Rio."

Angel shrugged. "Maybe not, but absolution is about the journey."

He leaned back onto the pillows. Faith leaned back with him. They stayed like that for a while and slept wrapped in each other's arms.

The next morning, Angel opened his eyes to find himself alone in his apartment. Then he looked at his bedside table and smiled. Sitting there, wedged between his clock and the bottle of Scotch was a note. It was written in crimson lipstick. It said only one word: Thanks.

"You're welcome, Faith," he said aloud, willing the sentiment to reach her wherever she had gone.

The fact that she'd bothered to leave a note told him something. Whatever they had, even if it wasn't true love, it definitely wasn't over.

Back at the Condo

The sun was barely over the horizon when Faith crept back into the condo. Everything was silent. She was glad no one had bothered to wait up, not that she had expected them to. Explaining where she'd been was not on her list of things to do today. Her relationship with Angel, whatever it was, was not something she wanted to share with anyone else.

She walked into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee before the morning rush. She was so busy setting up the coffee pot, measuring the Folgers Crystals and putting in the water and the filter that she didn't see Rio sitting at the table until she was done.

"Late night?" he asked sarcastically.

Faith jumped, and then relaxed just a bit when she saw who it was. She opened her mouth to give him a sarcastic retort, but closed it again. Angel had made some sense last night. She still didn't trust Rio one bit, but maybe she shouldn't always be so hard on him. The coffee began to percolate, filling the room with that rich coffee smell.

She shrugged in answer to his comment. "Late night, early morning, who can tell?"

His eyes narrowed. "Were you with your demon lover?"

Faith flinched. "That was cold."

"No colder than your comments about Nicole," Rio returned, obviously still angry.

It took her a minute. The coffee covered the bottom of the pot before she was ready. Finally, she took a deep breath and blurted, "I'm sorry for what I said about Nicole. It wasn't any of my business. Just like me and Angel isn't any of your business."

Rio stared at her in surprised, expecting a trick. "What's the deal, Faith?"

"No deal. We... I was just thinking, maybe there's a way we can make the best of this. Or at least not kill each other."

"You think?"

"I'm not sure, but it might help."

His eyes narrowed on her. "I still don't like you."

"Hey!" Faith extended her hands wide. "The feeling's mutual, pal, and if you want to keep up the war then I'm more than prepared!" How dare he insult her offer of peace? She'd show him!

He interrupted the beginnings of her tirade. "Wait... I shouldn't have... well, maybe you're right. Maybe we can make this nice... no... livable. Yeah, livable is a good word."

Faith forced herself to calm down. She noticed the coffee was done. She took two mugs and filled them up. Handing one to Rio, she said, "Drink on it?"

He nodded. They clinked mugs and each took a sip. Afterwards, an awkward silence developed.

"All-righty then," Faith said suddenly. "That's enough quality time for me. I've got to get ready for school anyway. Ug." With that she left the kitchen and walked upstairs, easily beating the sleeping Sonya to the first hot shower of the day.

As she lingered under the steamy water, Faith remembered what it felt like when Angel had wrapped his arms around her. The sex was great, but the part where he let her cry and then held her for the rest of the night... She'd never had anything like that before him. And it hadn't scared him away.

A pounding on the door and Sonya screaming for her to hurry up finally got her attention. Faith turned off the shower, wrapped up in a towel and opened the door.

"It's about time, shower hog," Sonya grumbled. Noting the steam in the bathroom, she added, "I hope there's some hot water left."

Faith walked right by without returning the insult. She headed for their room to get dressed. She felt like wearing something sexy today. Maybe she would put a red tie in her hair. Some color would be nice for once.

Watching her go, Sonya frowned. "I'll never, ever understand that girl."

Part 2: Out with the Old, In with the New

Booksellers

Thwack!

"Oof."

Thud. Crunch.

"Urg."

Thunk.

"Good job. What's say we take a break?"

Buffy Summers relaxed from her training posture and pushed sweaty tendrils of blonde hair out of her face. She gave her new Watcher, Aidan O'Shea, a small smile. "I have to give you credit. You lasted a lot longer than Giles." Feeling a twinge of disloyalty to her former Watcher, now in England reorganizing the Council's training facilities, Buffy hastily added, "Not that Giles was bad or anything..."

Aidan nodded in understanding as he gulped in huge breaths of air. "I quite understand, Buffy. I'm sure Giles was an impeccable trainer. I'm just a bit more used to the physical side of things as I trained youngsters like Faith and Rio for over a year."

And you're at least twenty years younger, Buffy thought, but she didn't say that out loud. Aidan was self-conscious enough about being young for an Active Watcher. The two of them were still trying to find the right footing with each other, and Buffy didn't want to say anything that would make things uncomfortable.

The room was silent for a moment. Self-consciously, Buffy took down her falling ponytail and re-did it. She liked Aidan, and it felt good to have a Watcher who was all hers -- sharing Giles with ex-Slayer Sonya had always been a challenge and sometimes much less than pleasant -- but now Aidan had to fill the shoes of one of the most daring Watchers in Council History. Giles's exploits were numerous, and would probably never be duplicated or equaled in a hundred years. Add that to the fact that Aidan's age, 25, made him more like a big brother or an older cousin than a father-esque figure, and there was a whole lot of adjusting going on in Sunnydale.

"Why don't you do your stretches?" Aidan suggested. He began packing away the pads he wore when they trained. "I think we've had enough for one day."

Buffy nodded and lifted her left foot to the edge of the nearest stack of boxes. She stretched it as high as it would go, and then she leaned over until she could grab the toe of her sneaker with her right hand. It felt great. Buffy hadn't been the Slayer very long, only a few months -- she still felt unexpected twinges of pleasure at the things her body could do now. Memories of the days when she could barely walk no longer tormented her, except occasionally in her dreams. Her reflective mood was broken by the sound of a bell tinkling in the other room. Aidan checked his watch. "I'd better go take care of that. It could be a customer."

"I thought Amy was working today." Buffy knew that her best friend valued her after school job in Aidan's new bookstore, and Amy Madison wasn't the type to let a customer wait unattended.

"She was," Aidan informed her as he made a brisk pace to the door that separated the back room that they used for training and storage from the main part of the shop, "but I told her she could have off early for her lessons with Jenny and Rio. She should have gone about ten minutes ago."

He left, and the swinging door closed behind him with only the smallest of swooshing noises. Buffy ducked behind the screen in the corner of the room and changed from her workout clothes into jeans and a T-shirt. A few minutes later, she stuffed the dirty clothes in her bag and walked out into the front of the shop.

After quitting his job at the British Museum to move to Sunnydale, Aidan had needed a means of income. Since he didn't have the credentials to take over Giles's job at the Sunnydale High School library, he'd scrounged up the capital and opened up a small new and used bookstore in downtown Sunnydale. He leaked word out to the wiccan community that he had a good selection of occult books, but the store sold everything from romance and mystery novels to cook books and dictionaries. Aidan owning a store -- simply called Booksellers -- worked out well spacewise and incomewise, but sometimes Buffy missed having her Watcher at her fingertips during the daily school grind. Luckily, her mother had agreed to get her a cellular phone.

As if thinking of Joyce Summers had summoned the woman in question, Buffy came through the swinging door to find her mother and Aidan standing by the cash register dais, chatting. Joyce's eyes took on a maternal pride when she noticed Buffy. "Hi, sweetie. I just dropped by to see if you were done for the day."

Buffy flashed a grin at her mother. "That's why you recommended Aidan to your landlord. You wanted me close by. Admit it, Mom!"

Joyce extended her hands in a gesture of surrender. "I love having you both next door, but, trust me, that recommendation came from business sense more than family needs. Bookworms are likely to be art nuts, so the gallery benefits from the extra traffic in the area. And this place sitting vacant wasn't of any use to anyone..."

"Yeah, sure," Buffy replied, but the comment held a ring of teasing laughter.

"So," Joyce said, reverting to her earlier topic, "do you need a ride home?"

Buffy nodded. "Sure."

"Good." Joyce picked her purse up off the counter, and she and Buffy headed for the door. Glancing back at Aidan, she called, "What time do you need us there tomorrow?"

Aidan glanced at the clock consideringly. "I think eight thirty should do it."

Buffy groaned, but Joyce's cheerful voice covered the noise. "We'll see you then."

"All right." Just before they got out the door, Aidan added, "Buffy, call me if you run into anything unusual on patrol this evening."

"Expecting some ancient prophecy you haven't told me about?" Buffy shot back, holding the door open for Joyce to walk through.

Aidan shook his head. "Nothing I know of."

"Good." Buffy winked at him before letting the door start to shut. "Maybe that means things will go well during the move."

The Condo

"I can't believe we have to get up this early on a Saturday."

Sonya glared across the box-filled room, the ugly look landing on the Faith-shaped lump under the blankets on the spare bed in the corner. "Believe me, it's worth it if we don't have to share a room anymore."

Faith pushed down the covers and sat up. "Roger that, but couldn't Aidan have let us sleep in until nine at least?"

A saccharine grin curved Sonya's lips. "Well, if someone had gotten home before three in the morning, someone wouldn't be so tired now, would she?"

Faith blushed and jumped out of bed, heading for the bathroom down the hall, avoiding the boxes that littered their floor with a feline grace that only a potential Slayer could have. "Where I was last night and when I got home is none of your damn business!" With that she stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Sonya finished boxing up the contents of her desk and folded the flaps closed. The corners of her mouth trembled. She tried to hold it back, but a fit of giggles erupted. After a moment, she calmed herself down. It wouldn't do to tip her hand too soon. With Faith so defensive, Sonya knew where she must have spent most of the night: with Angel. Faith never talked about it -- neither did Angel for that matter -- but word traveled fast in their small circle. And Rio and Amy had both found out about the affair a few days after it started, while the rest of the Scooby Gang was in England for Spring Break. Sonya thought the idea of Faith and Angel was extremely weird, but, as far as she was concerned, they could do whatever they wanted with their off hours as long as they did their part to control the havoc of living on a Hellmouth. The fun came from Faith's obvious sensitivity on the subject. As she wrote "Sonya's desk stuff" on the box in black marker, she eagerly anticipated the digs she could get in later. After the torture of sharing a room with (and losing an as yet un-determined amount of clothing to) the commando, Sonya was determined to get her revenge where she could.

"Morning."

Sonya looked up from her last minute packing to see Rio standing in the doorway. He was already dressed -- in black jeans and a black T-shirt -- and his dark hair was combed back off of his slender, pale face. The recently reformed warlock had moved into the condo at the same time as Faith and Aidan as part of his restitution -- Faith and the other white hats in Sunnydale were overseeing his efforts to pay for the crimes he'd committed while bound to evil-commando Terrance under the power of a blood oath from generations before.

The amusement wasn't completely gone from her face as she answered, "Good morning, Rio."

"Why are you so chipper this morning?" he asked, looking at her with some surprise. As everyone in the house knew, morning wasn't Sonya's favorite time of day. And since it wasn't Faith's favorite time of day, either, that had led to some interesting conflicts in the weeks since Spring Break.

"This is the last morning I have to share a room with Faith," Sonya answered, keeping the Angel stuff to herself. That was something best used in private, between herself and Faith.

Rio nodded. "I see. Yes, the move will be good for us all." He had been sleeping on a couch in the library/study for the past few weeks. "And in the new house, I will get my own room, too."

"Definitely!" Sonya exclaimed. "Having one's own room is vital for a teenager." She looked around her familiar walls, fighting a twinge of sadness. "I will kind of miss this place, though. Before you guys moved in, Giles and I were really cozy here."

"It's not like you won't see it again," Rio reminded her. "Giles is only subletting the place. I guess that means that he intends to come back someday."

"Maybe so." The soft chime of the doorbell interrupted Sonya's sudden downward mood swing. Eager to move on to something else, Sonya pushed past Rio and headed for the door. It was eight-thirty on the dot. Only one person could be that punctual...

When she opened the door, Sonya found out that she'd guessed it in one. It was Joyce, with a tired-looking Buffy in tow. Behind them, a beat-up van and a car pulled up to the curb. Oz and Doyle got out of the van and Amy emerged from the car. They all headed for the door as well.

"Come in!" Aidan called to the crowd of people in his entry hall. He motioned them into the kitchen. "I've got donuts and coffee."

"Least he could do," Buffy grumbled, but it was just the sleepiness talking. Amy smiled at her friend and the two of them went into the kitchen, followed by Joyce and Rio from upstairs.

Doyle followed as well, and stopped by Aidan to asked, "Is this everyone ye asked?"

Aidan gave his friend a knowing look. "Cordelia knew the time and place, but I guess she had to wash her hair or something."

"That's no... I didn't..." Doyle spluttered. Then he took a breath and said more calmly. "I was referrin' to Angel. Ye know, another strong back fer the heavy liftin'."

Aidan smirked, not believing that for one minute. "Well, he said he was available... after sunset."

Realizing his mistake, Doyle flushed. Then he just rolled his eyes at his old friend and went into the kitchen for the promised donuts.

At the door, Sonya waited until the ever-polite Oz got inside and then closed the door behind him.

"Hi," he said in a voice meant just for her.

Sonya darted a small smile in his direction. Ever since England, when he'd risked his life to try and save hers, things had been different between them. It was like they were standing on the cusp of something new. But Oz never made that final step. He never said anything to indicate if he felt more than platonically for her. She thought he did, but it was something she gathered from intuition and vibes, not words. Sometimes, the uncertainty of it all made Sonya want to grind her teeth in frustration. Even if she ground them to enamel powder, her healing factor would make sure they came back. Other times she thought maybe she should make the first move, but for all her bravado, her life as a foster child work-horse, a Slayer and then a cripple meant Sonya was inexperienced with boys. And after the disaster of her only foray into the dating world -- with Xander while they were, unbeknownst to either of them, affected by an evil spell -- had turned out less than spectacularly. In short, she didn't know how to make the first move.

Pushing all her confusing thoughts out of her head, Sonya replied, "Hi, Oz." They looked at each other for a moment, and Sonya felt her cheeks begin to heat up. This didn't happen with just friends, did it?

"C'mon, you two, quit with the warm fuzzies already. Talk about sickening!"

Sonya wished she could shoot laser beams from her eyes like that Cyclops guy in the X-Men comic books Oz liked to read. He'd shown her several of them one day last week when they had lunch together on the quad at school. The ruby beams of death would have fried Faith before the brunette could get all the way down the stairs. But Sonya didn't have death rays in her eyes, so she had to settle for a dark glare and a quick retort.

"Feeling more alert now, Faith? I guess a night of romping in the sack with a vampire will leave you drained in the morning."

Faith's mocking grin vanished and her cheeks paled. Sonya expected an even meaner comeback, but that didn't happen. Faith hurried down the rest of the stairs and vanished into the kitchen with the others. Sonya sighed and glanced at Oz. He looked right back at her. There wasn't any condemnation in his face, but she regretted what she'd said anyway.

"I guess I'm going to have to apologize for that one, huh?" Sonya said in a small voice.

Oz placed a warm, gentle hand on her arm. "Might help."

"It's just..." Sonya stepped away from him as her anger intensified. "Well... Faith is just always so mean to me. I thought... No, I didn't think. But shouldn't she be able to take it as well as she dishes it out?"

"Sometimes the people who dish it out the worst are the ones who are the most insecure," Oz said.

He tucked his hands into the pockets of his work pants. Sonya stared at the rip in the knee, wondering what caused it. Probably carrying stuff for the Dingoes, she decided. She sighed again, then glanced into the kitchen. They could hear the others laughing and talking. There was even the occasional shriek, probably from Doyle teasing Buffy or Amy.

She looked back at Oz. "We'd better go get some food before it's all gone." She turned and walked into the kitchen, knowing Oz would follow her. As she grabbed a donut and a cup of black coffee, Sonya studiously avoided even the tiniest glance in Faith's direction. Later she promised herself. I'll deal with that later.

Still at the Condo

Aidan gave everyone with a car a map to the new house. It was a nice house in the residential part of town. It had plenty of room for four occupants, and even a nice backyard complete with a swimming pool.

Noting the address, Joyce commented, "This is a nice neighborhood, Aidan."

"Not the best," he replied.

She shook her head in agreement. "No, it's not on the rich side of town with the Chase family mansion, but it is a very nice neighborhood. How did you afford it?"

"Council funding," Aidan explained. "All my assets are tied up in Booksellers. There's no way I could have afforded this without them. Luckily, Ms. Post and her new group of advisors realize my predicament here with three dependents, so they were generous with the purse strings."

"Ah." Joyce took a last sip of her coffee and then threw away her Styrofoam cup. "Must be nice."

Aidan smiled at her, and then addressed the group at large. "Attention, everyone. I have hired movers to come for the furniture we are taking with us, so someone has to stay and direct them. They should be here within the hour. To save money, they will only be taking one load of the heaviest things, so supervising them will not take very long. The rest of us should start collecting boxes and all the small stuff and moving it over in the various cars."

Sonya waved her hand around and then called, "What about the new furniture -- the stuff that we bought last week. When is it getting there?" Sonya's bedroom furniture and a lot of the stuff from Giles's library (stuff important to helping the Slayer) were some of the largest things they were moving. However, she had enjoyed helping Aidan pick out new living room furniture and other such things. The new house would be very comfortable for all of them.

"A delivery van is supposed to meet us at the new house." He paused for a minute to look at the faces of everyone in the kitchen. He felt honored that they had all come out to help him with such a mundane task. It actually made him feel a part of the group for what might have been the first time. After a moment, he continued speaking. "But before we go, I just wanted to take a minute to say thank you for all of your help. I don't think we could have done all this without you."

Not wanting to gush, Aidan stopped there, and let everyone get about their business. Then he walked over to Faith, who had been rather quiet that morning -- not her usual wise-cracking self.

"Is everything all right?"

She gave him the usual "it's none of your business" glare.

"OK," Aidan answered himself, "then I'll get right to the point. I thought that since you're not quite done packing, you could be the one to stay and direct the movers. If you don't want to, I will, but I thought I would bring it up." He waited, wondering if he should start cringing inwardly now or if he should wait until she replied. Usually, Faith was not one to take orders very well, even if they were polite orders. Only about training did she accept him without much question. He still felt weak when he remembered the argument they'd had about her giving high school another try. And the fact that she would have to take summer school this summer to catch up on what she had missed had not set well with her.

"Whatever." Faith shrugged and then walked out of the kitchen, presumably upstairs to finish her packing.

Aidan looked after her, shocked. She had agreed to something without World War Seven? She must be sick. But she seemed alive and well. Maybe she was just tired or something. Deciding to try talking to her about it again later if she wasn't back to her normal, loud-mouthed self, Aidan turned and began to co-ordinate the others into box hauling detail.

The New House

Sonya rode with Oz in his van over to the new house. When she saw the now-familiar place, she directed him up into the driveway.

"This is nice," he commented as he turned off the motor. Behind them, Joyce, Aidan and Amy all pulled their vehicles as close as they could manage, and everyone began hopping out to start moving stuff.

"Yeah," Sonya agreed. She pointed to the corner window on the second floor. "That's my window."

"Good window." Oz got out of the van and walked around so he could open her door.

Sonya blushed. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Then Oz moved over to where Aidan, Doyle, Rio and Buffy -- the power movers as they'd jokingly been dubbed -- were waiting for him to open the back of the van. The heaviest and bulkiest things were waiting inside Shelia The Zebra-Striped Van.

Joyce, Sonya and Amy started moving in the boxes.

"How come Jenny isn't helping?" Joyce asked Amy as they started working.

"She had an unbreakable commitment," Amy explained.

"Must've been important," Joyce commented.

Amy shrugged. "I guess. She wouldn't tell me what it was."

"You know what I think?" Sonya teased. "I think she just didn't want to help us lug boxes around. She's obviously not as committed as you two gorgeous women." Joyce and Amy laughed and they all got to work on the boxes in Amy's car.

Amy pulled a box out of the backseat, chanted a couple of words in Latin. The box obediently floated up between her hands. She'd mastered levitation when she lived in Europe, and to her delight, it still worked just as well on non-vampire objects.

"I think that's cheating!" Buffy told her friend. Buffy and Rio were working together to carry in a bulky arm chair.

Amy just smiled. "I say, if you've got it, flaunt it."

"Just so long as no one who shouldn't see notices," Aidan warned, but his light tone showed that he thought Amy was already doing a good job of that.

Her smile didn't waver. "That's why I'm only doing one box at a time. I figured levitating three or four boxes into the house would be too obvious."

"You have to teach me that spell," Rio said as he struggled with the chair. "The levitation spells I know are too flashy to use in public."

"Sure," Amy agreed.

"You mean you could just levitate everything in?" Buffy asked as she tried to find a comfortable way to carry the arm chair. "Forget this power mover stuff! I think Amy and Rio should do it all!"

At the front door, Aidan shouldered his box of dishes and unlocked the door for everyone, stopping the good-natured teasing.

They all walked in and looked around. The house looked even bigger without furniture. Amy glanced down at the label on her box. "Sonya's Room." She looked at the girl in question. "Which one is your room?"

"C'mon," Sonya said. "I'll show you." They went up the stairs at a quick clip.

"Um, Aidan?" Buffy said as Rio grunted. "Where did you want this chair?"

"Sorry!" Aidan exclaimed. "Just put it in the den." He pointed to a door on the other side of the hall. "It's through there."

Joyce frowned at the label on her box. "Um... this says Miscellaneous. Is that bedroom Miscellaneous? Kitchen Miscellaneous? Bathroom?"

Aidan balanced his box and moved to the side so Doyle and Oz could get in with a long, skinny bookshelf. Then he squinted at the box in question. "You know... I have no idea."

Joyce laughed, remembering the confusion of moving very well. "I'll just put it in the living room, and you can sort it all out later."

The Condo

Faith sat in a much emptier condo waiting for the movers. She would definitely be glad to get out of this place. Faith didn't like close quarters. She liked freedom. And she hoped that her new bedroom -- across the house from Sonya -- would make it even better. The thought of Sonya made her frown.

"Stupid slut," Faith grumbled. "Where does she get off criticizing me when all she does is make goo-goo eyes at Oz?"

Sitting there fuming wasn't getting her anywhere. Faith stood up and began to pace. "Movers, movers, where are the movers?"

Then she spied a box with a familiar name printed on it. "Sonya's Desk Stuff." A tiny grin curved her lips. "Well... as long as no one is here..."

A second later and Faith was elbow deep in Sonya's stuff. She pulled out a silver picture frame and saw a picture of Sonya in a wheelchair next to Xander. Only Xander was smiling.

"Sappy. Before my time." Faith dropped the frame carelessly into the box. "Hmmm... What else?"

She found a napkin with the words "Sal's Diner" printed on it, but she didn't know why Sonya had that so she put it back in the box. Faith discovered a cassette tape that turned out to be a recording of some of Oz's music. Interesting, she thought, but not unexpected. And the Dingoes suck anyway.

The box also held countless pens, pencils, writing tablets and all the other boring desk things. She found a journal that looked promising, but it was blank inside.

"She doesn't seem the type to keep a journal anyway." Faith rolled her eyes, wondering who could be so boring and anal that they would have to keep a diary for kicks.

Just when she was about to give up, Faith found a small, porcelain container. It was white and blue and it had a blue flower with tiny green leaves painted on the top. It definitely did not seem like something Sonya would have in her possession. Sonya wasn't the girlie-girl type like Amy and Buffy.

Faith sat back on her heels and opened the tiny box. The lid had a gold border and two tiny hinges. It opened with a small click. A light, powdery scent assailed her nostrils and she grimaced. More with the girlie-girl stuff! I didn't know Sonya had a side like this.

The box fit in the palm of her hand. There was only room inside to hold a few small things. Four things, actually. A pair of gold earrings in the shape of roses, a matching ring with a thicker band and a locket with a rose engraved on it.

Faith dismissed the ring and the earrings quickly. Too old fashioned for her. But the locket was something else. She held it up by the chain and admired it in the light.

"Not bad," she muttered. "It would look really great with something strapless..." She held it up to herself and saw that the locket would rest right in the crevice between her breasts. "And it would draw attention to just the right areas. I think I'm going to have to... 'borrow' this for a while."

Faith remembered the last time she'd "borrowed" something from Sonya -- a black T-shirt. They'd had quite a fight about it. But Faith was never one to give up what she wanted because she was afraid of a fight. And the harsh words Sonya had thrown at Faith earlier meant that Sonya owed Faith something, in Faith's opinion anyway.

She was just about to open the locket and see if anything was inside when a sharp rapping at the door interrupted her. She jumped up, shut the flaps of the box and shoved the necklace in her pocket before the door swung open to reveal someone she never expected to see.

"You're not a mover," Faith accused.

Cordelia Chase made her way into the condo and peered around. Then she pouted. "What? The movers aren't here yet?"

Faith raised an eyebrow. "You left your la-la land clique just to trot over here and watch some beefcake movers?"

"Well," Cordelia confided with a grin, "Percy West got a summer job at the Movers 'R Us, and let me just say that he looks good in a sweaty tank top!" Her excitement trailed off as Faith continue to stare at her in disbelief. "Well, fine! Excuse me if I can appreciate a guy in uniform!" Another knock at the door punctuated her words, and -- with a patented Chase hair swing -- Cordelia put on her best smile, pulled open the door and said, "Hello?" Her face fell. "Oh. It's you."

"Princess!" Doyle cried as he and Oz walked into the house. "Came to give Aidan and the kids some interior decoratin' tips?"

"Yeah," Cordelia replied, turning away from him. "That's it." She walked over to the couch, pushed a box onto the floor with a loud thump and sat down in a huff.

Doyle winked at Oz. "She loves me, man."

Oz nodded. "I can totally see that."

"What are you guys doing here?" Faith asked in her most "I'm bored, kill me now" tone.

"Aidan sent us back fer another load o' boxes," Doyle explained. He grabbed the "Sonya's Desk Stuff" box and headed for the van outside. Faith gave a sigh of relief to have the box gone. It made her feel safer somehow, though why she needed to feel safe because of a dumb locket, she really didn't know.

Oz took another box and did the same. When he got to the door he looked back and said, "The movers are here."

Cordelia jumped up and did a quick makeup check in the hall mirror that was now leaning against the wall. Then she hurried out the door to say hello to Percy. Faith followed along behind, preparing to direct incompetent men how not to break the furniture.

The New House

Several long hours later, the movers were gone, the new furniture had been delivered and everything that was moving had been transferred to the new house. Joyce had conscripted Amy and Rio to help her make a light salad to go with the pizzas Aidan had ordered. Sonya and Oz were in her room unpacking boxes. Faith was pacing about the house like a caged panther. Aidan was in his new study unpacking books and organizing his desk. Doyle, Cordelia and Buffy sat in the living room, just relaxing.

Buffy sighed. Even with her Slayer strength her muscles were sore from all the heavy lifting. If Xander were here, he would give me a backrub, she thought longingly. But that made her realize, yet again, that her boyfriend was thousands of miles and an ocean away from her, and he would be for a really long time. She sighed and tried to push that thought away for now.

"You really shouldn't do that, Buffy," Cordelia said.

"What?" Buffy asked, startled out of her reverie.

"That frowning thing," Cordelia explained helpfully. "It makes that wrinkle between your eyes really stand out."

Buffy's gaze narrowed on Cordelia. "What are you still doing here anyway? Percy left hours ago."

"I told ye!" Doyle jumped in. "She's here ta practice her interior decoratin' so she can get a job wit' Martha Stuart Livin'."

Cordelia shrieked in protest. "I would never work for her!" She reached over and slugged Doyle in the arm. He was on the other side of the long couch from her, but she made the effort to connect. Buffy heard the slap from where she sat across the room.

"Now, that," Doyle said in a high and mighty tone, "was a declaration o' war!" With no more warning, he grabbed a throw pillow and began pummeling Cordelia with it, despite her shrieks to steer clear of the hair.

Buffy stared at them incredulously. Don't tell me they're... flirting, she thought with a sinking feeling. Oh, man! This is so unfair! Unable to stand it anymore, she got up and wandered out of the living room. She walked through the first door she came to and found herself in Aidan's study. She thought she was alone for a moment, but then Aidan poked his head up from behind the desk.

"Oh. Hello."

"Hey," Buffy replied. She didn't know what else to say, so she offered, "Need some help?"

Aidan shook his head. "I've got it. But thank you."

Buffy nodded and stood there for a minute. She started to walk out, but paused in the doorway. A peal of laughter could be heard from the living room.

"Why don't you go out there?" Aidan suggested. "It sounds like they're having fun."

"I've had enough fun for one day," Buffy muttered, examining her fingernails.

Aidan stood up and walked closer to the Slayer. "You're missing Xander, aren't you?"

She looked up at him, surprised. "How did you know?"

He smiled. "It's written all over your face. Come here." He took her arm and led her over to his new, leather sofa, and they sat down. The deep brown covering felt smooth beneath her legs and the smell of new leather assailed her nostrils. She sighed.

"Buffy," Aidan said, "I know this separation is hard. I went through something quite similar to this myself."

"You did?"

"Yes." He nodded. "When I went away to train to be a Watcher I left a girl behind in Ireland. She was my childhood sweetheart."

"What was her name?"

"Belinda." A wistful look crossed his face. "We promised to wait for each other. She gave me a lock of her hair, and I slept with it under my pillow."

Buffy gave him a funny look. "Your camera was broken?"

Aidan shrugged. "We were young and in love. Rather like you and Xander."

A soft smile crossed Buffy's lips at the mention of her boyfriend. "So, what happened with you and Belinda?"

A pained look crossed Aidan's face. "Um... never mind. Did I ever tell you the story of how my grandmother met my grandfather?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Spill. What happened with Belinda?"

He hesitated for a minute and swallowed nervously. When it was obvious that Buffy would not be dissuaded, he finally said, "She got tired of waiting for me and married another man. He owned a shoe store."

"Oh, that was comforting," Buffy said sarcastically, but there was a grin trying to escape the corners of her mouth. "Remind me get back to you the next time I get depressed about my relationship and you can tell me that at least Xander isn't dead like your kindergarten girlfriend." She cocked her head to the side and then asked, "Your kindergarten girlfriend isn't really dead, is she?"

Aidan shook his head. "I was rather a loner in grammar school." He sighed and ran his fingers through his brown hair. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I shouldn't have told you that story. I don't know what I was thinking."

"It's OK." Buffy touched his arm. "It was sweet of you to try."

Aidan nodded. Then he said, "If you still want to help me unpack those books, you can." He pulled a list out of his pocket. "I was going to organize them in alphabetical order by author with a secondary ranking by copyright date."

"Um... no," Buffy said, standing up quickly and heading for the door. "But you have fun with that." Then she walked out of the room, and Aidan watched her go with a self-satisfied look on his face. It felt like they'd finally made a first step toward a real relationship. This thing might work out after all.

Sonya’s Room

"What's this?"

Sonya looked up from the clothes she was hanging in the closet to see Oz holding a small, porcelain jewelry box. She smiled a little bit. "It was my mother's." She dropped a burgundy-colored sweater to the floor and moved to stand beside him. He handed her the box and she gazed at it with a tender expression.

"I thought your mom..."

"Died?" Sonya nodded. "She did. I never even met her. But this is the one thing I have left."

"What's inside?" Oz asked.

Sonya carefully opened the box and held it out so he could see inside. "Her favorite jewelry. It's a matched set."

"Oh yeah," Oz said, nodding. "Earrings and a ring. Very cool... if you're into roses. I like roses... well, I like girls wearing roses..."

Sonya didn't even notice his unusual bout of wordiness because she was staring into the box with a horror-stricken expression. "There was a locket in here!" Tears started to well up in the corners of her eyes. "It had my mother's picture in it. It was the only picture I had of her!"

Oz looked around at the stacks of boxes. "Maybe... maybe it's in here somewhere."

Sonya just sat on the edge of the bed, motionless, staring at the box.

"What's going on?"

Oz looked over to see Faith in the doorway, her hands on her hips.

"I could hear you all the way in my room."

"Get out, Faith!" Sonya growled. "I do not have the energy to deal with you right now."

Faith saw the box in Sonya's hand and her cheeks paled. Quickly, she pulled herself back together and strolled casually into the room. "What's in there?" she asked, gesturing toward the box.

Sonya just glared at her. It was Oz who answered. "A locket with her only picture of her mother in it. It's missing."

Faith was silent for a minute, and then she said, "Your mother is dead, too?"

Sonya looked up at Faith. The two girls just stared at each other for a long moment. Then Sonya answered, "Yeah."

The commando started to pace back and forth in the bedroom. Oz gave her a puzzled look, then he shrugged off his confusion and turned to Sonya. "We can look for it. I'll help you."

"Maybe..." Sonya whispered.

Faith seized the idea with a surprising amount of zest. "Yeah! I'll help, too." Then she opened the nearest box and started pawing through its contents.

The ex-Slayer watched, confused. Finally, she asked, "Why are you helping me? Didn't you get the memo? We hate each other."

Faith shrugged, avoiding Sonya's gaze. "What else do I have to do? I already unpacked the two whole boxes I have. And besides..." She gestured at the box, which was full of clothes. "Maybe I'll find something in here that would look good on me."

"Whatever," Sonya said, grabbing another box. "I just want to find my locket."

The three teens sat there, rummaging through boxes haphazardly and throwing anything that got in their way into the middle of the floor. Something nagged at Sonya. Something besides the missing locket. She let out a loud sigh. Oz glanced up at her, but she couldn't meet his gaze. Finally she blurted, "Faith, I'm sorry for what I said about you and Angel this morning. It's none of my business, and I should keep my nose out of it."

"You're apologizing to me?" Faith asked with a smirk. "But I thought we hated each other."

"Oh, we do," Sonya replied quickly. "I just thought I'd throw that out there." Then she concentrated on her box again, but she could feel Oz's approval radiating from him.

Faith waited for her opening. It took a while, but eventually there was a minute when both Oz and Sonya were facing the other way. In a lightning quick move, Faith pulled the gold necklace out of her pocket and shoved it into the box. Then she let out a cry of triumph. "I found it!"

"You did?" Sonya jumped up and grabbed the locket out of Faith's grasp. Faith and Oz stood up too.

"Is that it?" Oz asked.

Sonya practically danced over to him and gave him a big hug. "Yes!" Then she turned to Faith.

"No way!" Faith exclaimed. "If you hug me, I'm taking this thing to a pawn shop."

Just then the three teenagers hear Joyce's voice from downstairs. "Dinner's here! Come and get it!"

Sonya fastened the locket around her neck, not wanting to let it out of her sight for a while. Then she headed for the stairs. "C'mon, guys. If we don't get there quick Doyle, Aidan and Rio will eat all the pizza."

Faith moved to follow (knowing the truth of Sonya's words after all the times Doyle had come over to the condo for dinner) but stopped when Oz touched her arm. She looked down at him -- he was at least half a head shorter than she was -- and froze. She could tell, just by the look in his eyes as he stared at her, that Oz knew the truth.

He must've seen me take the stupid thing out of my pocket! she thought, suddenly afraid that Oz would ruin the peace she and Sonya had just forged. Well, whatever! Faith told herself. Who gives a crap if Sonya hates me? That's nothing new.

"What?" Faith finally asked him belligerently.

Oz gave her a quick smile. "Thanks." Then he turned and followed Sonya downstairs.

Faith stood there for a second, completely taken aback by that little exchange. Then she, too, went downstairs to find some pizza.

Part 3: Empty Boxes

England

"Mr. Harris, you've got mail down in the office."

Alexander "Xander" Harris closed his book with a bang and walked over to the intercom next to the door of his dorm room. Depressing the appropriate button, he said, "I'll be right down."

Then he hurried out the door and down the stairs. When he reached the main office on the first floor of the Watchers' Council Training Academy, he saw three big boxes and a small one in the middle of the floor.

"You said there was mail for me?"

The slender man behind the desk gave him an annoyed look and gestured to the boxes on the floor.

Xander's eyes opened wide. "All of them?"

"Yes," the man -- Colin Post, nephew of Proconsul Gwendolyn Post, recent graduate of the training program and personal secretary to Training Master Rupert Giles -- repeated. "They came special delivery from the States."

"Wow!" Xander's face lit up with a smile. Then he frowned, wondering how on Earth he was going to get them all up to his room.

"There's a dolly in the closet," Colin informed Xander. "You can check it out if you want."

Xander nodded. Colin pulled a tablet out of his desk and gave it to Xander. Xander signed his name, and wrote down the date, the time and the item he was borrowing. Then he found the dolly in the closet and stacked the boxes on it.

"Someone back home must really care about you," Colin remarked off-handedly. "It costs a small fortune to send that much stuff over here."

"I guess so," Xander agreed. Then he turned and began pushing the dolly back to his room. He tossed a "thanks" over his shoulder as the door swung shut. He thought about going back in and saying hello to Giles, as long as he was down here, but Xander was more eager to open the boxes.

It took a lot of muscle and sweat, but Xander got the dolly and all four boxes up to the second floor. On the way he alternated between dodging annoyed looks as his fellow students tried to get past him on the stairs, wishing the building had an elevator and being thankful that he didn't live on the fifth or sixth floors.

"Harris!" a blond young man with glasses and a ponytail called as Xander opened the door to his room. "Looks like you hit the proverbial jackpot, eh?"

"Something like that," Xander grunted in response. Then he stopped and looked at the other boy. "Instead of standing there staring, Ed, why don't you come open the door for me?"

Edward Weathersby IV grinned good-naturedly and held the door open until Xander got the dolly across the threshold. Edward was Xander's next door neighbor, and one of his few friends at the Academy.

"I've told you repeatedly not to call me 'Ed.' It's undignified."

"Whatever," Xander agreed, then he grinned at Edward. "Looks like my parents decided they love me after all."

"That's all from your parents?" Edward asked, his eyes widening behind the wire-rimmed glasses. "Good lord!"

"All except this one." Xander took the small box off the top and set it carefully on his desk.

Edward gave him a knowing smirk. "I'll bet that one is a care package from the lovely Buffy Summers."

"You'd win that bet," Xander answered, unable to keep the smile off of his face. "How did you guess? Been given some psychic demon powers lately?"

Edward laughed at the sheer inappropriateness of his neighbor's joke. "That's why you get off on the wrong foot sometimes, Harris. You always rush in where angels fear to tread. Some of the Watcher-bred are quite sensitive about the recent goings on."

"Goings on?" Xander raised an eyebrow. "The man in the highest and most powerful position in the entire Council was changed into a vampire. Then he began all kinds of evil experiments on innocent humans, and no one noticed for over a year. No wonder they're sensitive!"

"All that outspoken behavior is what gets you into trouble," Edward replied with a shake of his head.

Xander looked at his friend seriously. "It's all this quiet reserve and dignified politeness that allowed so much to go wrong. At least in my opinion." Xander stopped himself from continuing. He'd rehashed this point of view many times in the few weeks he had been at the Academy, and few people understood, let alone shared, it with him. "But, really, Ed, how did you know Buffy sent something?"

Edward looked around Xander's room. It held the usual furniture -- a bed, a desk and chair, bookshelves, a chest of drawers and a small, versatile table -- but Xander had personalized it in his own way. He'd hung a huge bulletin board over his desk, and pinned on it pictures from home. Xander had told Edward all about the pictures, and his friends and favorite places back in Sunnydale, California, but pictures of the beautiful blonde, Buffy Summers, Xander's girlfriend, were by far the dominant theme in the sparse decorating scheme.

Tapping the framed picture of Buffy and Xander that sat next to Xander's bed, Edward said, "Just call it a wild guess." Then the blond Watcher-in-training turned and headed for the door. "Well, I'm off. I've got hand-to-hand combat training in a half hour." He paused, and then added, "I'm going into town with some of the fellows tonight. Want to come?"

Xander shrugged. Edward's friends were a nice sort -- some of the nicest at the Academy, actually -- but he didn't have a lot in common with them. "Maybe."

"You should come," Edward urged. "You need to get out more."

"I'll come," Xander agreed, "if I get my homework done."

"What are you trying to do?" Edward asked. "Make first scholar before the end of your first month?"

"I'm just trying to get it done quickly," Xander replied. His goal was to get done with the book training as fast as possible. Then he could train on location in Sunnydale, possibly under Active Watcher Aidan O'Shea. Giles was helping Xander. He'd planned a special academic track for the boy and helped him in other ways, as well. However, a lot of it depended on how much work Xander could do and how quickly he could do it.

"We're leaving at seven, if you want to come," Edward said, and then left Xander alone with his boxes.

Xander glanced at the books on his desk. He had tons of homework due the next day. He was straining himself academically here more than he'd ever thought possible. Back in regular high school, Xander had mostly been a goof off. But here he was a 24-hour study machine. He even took special classes on the weekends. And the amazing part was that Xander was doing OK. He wasn't ever going to be first scholar, but he was definitely holding his own. And he had yet to turn anything an instructor deemed "unsatisfactory," which had been the rule of thumb at Sunnydale High.

"I deserve a quick break, don't I?" Xander asked himself. He avoided looking at himself in the mirror. He knew he looked pale and hand circles under his eyes. He nodded to himself instead. "You do. And seeing what people sent you will be just the ticket."

He grabbed his knife and began opening the box from Buffy when a thought popped into his mind. Did talking to himself mean that he was insane? That gave him pause, then he pushed the thought away. "Nah. You're only insane if you answer yourself."

That settled, he ripped the brown paper off the box from Buffy and used the knife to slit the tape that held the flaps together. When he looked inside, he smiled. There were several pictures of Buffy and the others hanging around Aidan's new bookstore, Booksellers. Xander could barely imagine not having a Watcher at the high school, but then, he could hardly picture a Sunnydale without Giles as Watcher, even while Giles was in England with him.

Xander set the pictures on the desk to show Giles later, and looked in the box again. There was a bag full of junk food. Xander let out a thrilled whoop when he opened it to find all of his favorites, most of which were in short supply at the health-conscious Academy.

"Yum, Twinkies!" He picked up the framed picture next to his bed and gave Buffy's image a kiss. "You are a goddess!"

The last thing in the box was a card. Xander opened it and smiled softly when he saw Buffy's loopy handwriting.

Dear Xander,

Just a few things to show you that I'm thinking about you. I hope you enjoy them. Things are OK here, though I'm sure you know that more than I do while I'm writing this, since it will take the package weeks to get there and we email every day.

As always, I love you and I miss you.

Yours forever,

Buffy

P.S. I started dropping hints to Mom about taking a trip to England this summer. She doesn't seem entirely unagreeable, but there are money issues. ---- BAS

Xander took the note and pinned it to his bulletin board, or as Edward liked to call it, The Shrine to Sunnydale and Buffy Summers. But Xander didn't mind that kind of teasing. His home, and his girlfriend, were important to him, and he wasn't afraid to let anyone know that.

Just then, his watch alarm beeped. Xander pulled up his sleeve to look at the watch, and realized he would have to run to get to his languages tutorial on time. The rest of the boxes would have to wait until later. He took one quick glance in the mirror to make sure his dark hair wasn't too unruly and that his dress shirt and slacks (the Watchers never seemed to dress casual, not even the students -- Xander was just glad that he didn't have to wear tweed jackets all the time) still looked OK. Deciding that the wrinkles were nothing of consequence, Xander struggled into his pre-tied tie, grabbed his books and ran for the door.

One of the concessions Giles had made for Xander was a private language tutorial every afternoon. At SHS, Xander had taken several semesters of Spanish, in which he'd got middling grades at best, but here he was in classes with teenagers who'd been weaned on Latin and Greek, and other languages like Ancient Sumerian. Xander had quite a bit of catching up to do in that department. Latin was one of the most popular languages for spell casting, and many of the best demonology books were also written in the dead language.

Xander walked into his tutor's office right on time. Ms. Haley Fisher waited behind her mammoth, oak desk, her hands folded under her chin. Haley was the premiere authority on languages -- both ancient and otherwise -- at the Academy. She was fluent in seven languages, familiar in five more, and could even read several other dead languages and even a demon dialect or two. Sometimes she got frustrated with Xander and his bumbling attempts to catch up with his peers.

For his part, Xander didn't like Haley very much, but he did respect her talent and her intellect. And having a private tutorial every day was much better than being placed in elementary level classes with boys and girls eight to ten years younger.

"On time for once, Mr. Harris?" Haley said in a dry tone.

Xander slid into his chair at the table in the corner of the office and waited for her to join him. "What can I say, Ms. Fisher? I just couldn't wait to sink my teeth into Latin conjugates."

She stood up, revealing her plump figure encased in (what a shock!) a tweed suit, and walked over to the table with several large books. Xander groaned inwardly when he saw them, but he knew better than to say anything out loud. Haley was of the mind that jokes meant he had too much free time on his hands and needed more homework. Xander thought she wore her bun too tight, again something he would never say to her.

As Haley glanced over his homework before launching into another dry lecture, Xander did his best to sit up and look interested. I never knew my brain had this much of a capacity for school-related stuff, he thought. If only my high school teachers could see me now.

Two hours later the sun had begun its final descent, and Xander's head was about to explode. When Haley finally finished, he dashed out of the room as quickly as possible.

"Why am I doing this again?" he asked himself as he ran back to his dorm room. "Oh yeah, it's that whole 'helping to save the world while realizing my potential thing.' Who knew potential would be this much work?"

His thoughts, mostly a product of brain overload, scattered to the wind when he opened the door and saw the unopened boxes in the middle of the floor. He'd almost forgotten about the unexpected treat.

Xander dropped his Latin books on his bed and attacked the boxes with his knife. Minutes later, three open boxes surrounded him. He found two letters, and set them on the desk to read later. Then he started browsing through the boxes.

The biggest one was full of clothes. He smiled to see some of his favorite jeans, sweatshirts, sweaters and T-shirts again. Of course, he could seldom wear such casual things at the Academy, but it was somehow comforting to have them again just the same. And extra underwear and socks never hurt. His smile turned into a grin when he pulled out his crumpled suit and tie, the only one he'd ever owned in Sunnydale, good for funerals and school dances alike. It was nothing compared with the suits furnished for him by the Council upon his acceptance at the school (all students at the Academy without wealthy parents were given access to the Council's private tailor and a generous stipend for living expenses), both tweed and otherwise, but it was his. And he'd always been partial to the Bugs Bunny tie.

Cushioned amongst the clothes was his precious comic book collection. He'd always loved comic books, though he hadn't always had the money to buy the ones he wanted. The books in his collection were his absolute favorites, the ones he couldn't live without. Xander took them and placed them in a desk drawer. Doing so made him a little sad, but he also knew that the other Watchers-in-training would laugh if they saw them. He pushed those thoughts away and turned back to the boxes.

The last thing that had been in the clothes box were his other books. The classics he'd loved as a child. He ran his finger over the leather bindings with a smile, remembering rainy days when he, Willow and sometimes Jesse would read these books out loud to each other and get swept away into the world of Treasure Island, Robinson Crusoe and even The Black Stallion. He found room for the half dozen books in the drawer with the comic books.

Then he turned to the next box. Inside, Xander found the contents of his desk. Scattered pencils, pens, paper, stapler, a Dictionary, a calculator and all the other stuff he'd had stashed in the drawers. It's like someone just emptied them into the box, he thought with a frown. Mixed in among the desk stuff were his toiletries -- the things he'd had on his dresser and in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom -- his alarm clock and a couple of rolled up posters taken from his bedroom wall.

Without taking the time to completely go through box number two, Xander turned to the third box. On top of a layer of shoes were things that lived under his bed and in his closet in his room at home: some old toys he'd meant to throw away and never done, a broken desk lamp, a couple of address books and student planners from 1992 and 1995 (gifts that had never been used), some pictures, his rock collection, the trophy he'd won at the junior high swim meet (the event neither of his parents had shown up for), some belts and suspenders, a few hats...

There was more junk that he ignored when a familiar golden leg caught his eye. Slowly, Xander pulled his old friend Leo the Lion out of the box. Leo was a stuffed lion, and he'd been worn with lots of love and attention from a young Xander until he had several bald patches in his fur coat and even in his fluffy golden mane. The lion's original yellow bow had been discarded long ago as "too girlie," but Leo still had his original whiskers (except for the one Jesse had pulled off to see if it would make good fishing line), two brown eyes and a pink nose.

Xander stroked Leo's hair with a shaking hand. Something weird was going on here, but feeling the toy's familiar softness under his hand calmed him down. Xander set Leo on his desk, no longer worried if anyone would see it, and dove back into the box again. The next thing he pulled out was a beat up Nike shoe box. Duct tape sealed the lid and the box together, and the words "KEEP OUT" were written all over it in black magic marker.

He looked at the shoe box for a minute and started to tremble all over. He had to sit down on the edge of his bed. Xander knew good and well what was in this box -- things that he never wanted to see again, and yet could never bear to throw away. Momentous of a lifelong past. Pictures and toys, notes and other keepsakes. Fifteen years of friendship boiled down and squished into one shoebox.

After Jesse and Willow (or so he thought) died, he couldn't bear to look at all the stuff that reminded him of them, the stuff they'd given him, the stuff they shared. He'd thrown out some of it, and the rest -- the special stuff that could never hit the garbage can but that brought back too much -- was stuffed into a bulging shoe box and taped shut. The shoe box had been hidden at the back of the top shelf in his closet and covered with an old pillow case. The only way someone would have found this box was if they had been taking every single thing out of his closet.

The realization dawned on him. That was exactly what his parents had done. Cleaned out his room of every single thing that belonged to him. They must have thrown some stuff away, and the rest they'd boxed up and sent to him in this haphazard manner.

With the utmost care, Xander carried the shoe box to the other side of the room. He grabbed his desk chair with his other hand and took both over to the closet. He stood on the chair and peered into the top shelf of his closet. Nothing was up there but dust. He hadn't had enough stuff in his suitcases or been able to purchase enough stuff to need that much storage space yet.

Using both hands, he put the shoe box on the shelf and pushed it back as far as he could. When his arms wouldn't reach any more, he jumped down and grabbed the broken desk lamp and used that to push the shoe box the rest of the way to the back of the shelf. Then he got down, replaced the chair and stared at the letters waiting on his desk. One had his name written on the front. He recognized his mother's handwriting. Xander picked up the other letter and opened it.

Here's all the junk from your room. We don't have room for it. Rory is selling your jeep for us. That and the money we'll get from renting out your room will help things around here, though from the way you high-tailed it out of town like the coward you are, guess you don't care about this family.

The note wasn't signed, but even as he read it, Xander could hear his father's angry voice echoing in his head.

"I don't care about this family?" Xander yelled, crumpling the letter in his fist. "I don't care? I'm not the one who ruined it!" His voice cracked with unshed tears and he stopped yelling. He dropped the letter on the floor and stepped on it. That didn't seem to help, so he began jumping up and down on it. That didn't help either, so he took the broken desk lamp and used it to pound on the letter until the shade bent and fell off on the floor. Xander threw the useless thing away in disgust.

He sat in the middle of the floor for a while, staring at the mess. Then he reached up and took the other letter off of his desk. Might as well read it now... He opened the envelope and saw his mother’s shaky handwriting.

Dear Alexander,

The house is very empty without you. Your father has big plans to rent out your room to one of those college students always passing through town. I don't know if it will happen, but the extra money would be nice.

Your father lost his job again. Rory is helping us out as much as he can. Your father's lucky to have a brother like him.

I'm sorry we had to sell the jeep. I know you loved it, but we couldn't afford to keep it.

You're all grown up now, Alexander. I can hardly believe it. I hope you like having your stuff with you. A little bit of home over there in France.

Love, Mom

Tears flooded his eyes again and spilled out over his cheeks, but this time they were tears of sadness, not tears of rage and hatred. But crying for his mother was fruitless. He hated to admit it, but she was a lost cause. She'd given up on life long ago, and was slowly losing her grip on reality, as evidenced by her continued belief that he was in France, not England. He sighed deeply, wiping the tears away with a clenched fist.

"No more," he ordered himself. "No more tears for them. You can't do anything about it, and apparently they never want you to come back, so just get over it all ready."

He jumped when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Xander, this is Giles."

"Hey," Xander said, relieved for something to distract him from his thoughts. "What's going on?"

"I was just about to call Aidan and Sonya, actually, and I thought you might want to come down and say hello."

Xander's face brightened. "That sounds great. Thanks! Your apartment or your office?" As the head of the Academy, Giles had a whole apartment to himself (not just a room like the students had) on the first floor of the large building.

"Apartment."

"All right. See you in a few."

Xander hung up the phone with an actual smile on his face. It dimmed when he glanced at the stuff on the floor, but he wouldn't let it disappear completely. He turned his back on the junk and his Latin homework and walked out the door. He groaned inwardly when he almost walked right into a pack of the most annoying boys in the entire Academy.

"Where's the fire, Harris?" demanded Richard Nelson, a black-haired guy with small eyes and a wiry build that couldn't be bulked up by excess tweed.

"I'm going down to see Giles," Xander answered honestly, and immediately wished he'd kept his mouth shut. These boys didn't understand, or approve of, his close relationship with their superior. They were afraid of Giles because he had the power to make their dreams and ambitions come true or to send them packing. Nelson was their leader, and he delighted in tormenting Xander whenever possible. Xander did his best not to make trouble, but sometimes he just couldn't help it.

"Ass kisser!"

An angry flush colored Xander's cheeks as he tried to spot which of the five boys had said that, but he couldn't. They all laughed at him. One of them -- Lucas Walding, Nelson's huge, blond side kick -- looked for a minute like he was going to start something more physical, but he never actually made a real move. Finally, Xander just turned and started to walk away.

"Listen here, Yank!" Nelson called after him. "You know and we know, the only reason you are even in this school is that Mr. Giles (he stressed the title) pulled strings."

"Giles pulled strings with the new proconsul while he was under the indictment of a tribunal?" Xander replied, rolling his eyes and conspicuously not using the title. "That's good. Yeah. He probably had it all set up with Chamberlain before the guy turned out to be a vampire!"

Walding started to advance on Xander as Nelson and the other three boys scowled. Chamberlain was still a very sore subject with any Watcher, even the trainees.

Xander glared up at Walding. "You're not really gonna start something with me, are you?" Nelson and his cronies had been on his case since his first day at the Academy, but they had yet to actually follow through with the threat of physical violence. Xander's dark eyes glittered. His longing to expend some of his pent up frustration and anger on a physical body must have shown through them, because Walding paused in his advance.

Nelson glared and accused, "You haven't any skills, Harris! You know nothing about demonology or prophecies. Or spell casting. You only know one language, and that one not very well. Watchers are born and bred, not picked up at a... what do you yanks call them? Swap meet!"

"Shut up, Nelson," Xander warned through gritted teeth, "or I will show all of you just what my skills are."

"Life on the Hellmouth, blah, blah, blah," one of the other boys, a red head named Seymour Craine, said in a sing-song voice. "We've heard it before."

"And never seen any evidence of it," Nelson finished.

"Have any of you ever dusted a real live vampire?" Xander demanded. Fear flickered on a face or two, but Nelson was still talking.

"I bet you fall flat on your bloody arse in field exercises."

A cold smile curved Xander's lips. "Oh yeah? Wanna put a little wager on that?"

"Like what?" A malicious gleam lit Nelson's eyes.

"If I best you, you're my slave for a whole week, and if you best me, vice versa."

Nelson paled a little bit, but his posse patted him on the back and bolstered him up. "You're on."

"Good." And with that, Xander turned and walked away. This time, he wasn't accosted. As soon as he was in the stairwell and out of their sight, he leaned against the wall and let out a shuddery breath.

"I'm glad that's over," he muttered. "Now all I have to do is find out what field exercises are."

Of course, Xander had heard of field exercises. They were scheduled for the next Monday, and required special arrangements of classes. However, he had yet to actually hear a detailed description of what went on. He assumed, though, that the phrase 'field exercises' meant it would at least be out of the Academy buildings and somewhere in the realm of real life. He had a gleam of hope that it would be something relatively easy, like staking a vampire. Something that would give him a chance to show off the skills and training he actually had, and now he had an even bigger reason to hope for the same thing.

Luckily, he was on his way to see someone who would know the answers to his questions.

His sharp rap on the door was answered by a muffled, "Xander?"

"Yes."

"Ah. Come in then."

Xander smiled. Even in the bastion of the Council's power, Giles was still careful. Of course, after the blemish that was the Chamberlain situation, he had reason to be.

The apartment was well-appointed. It had everything that a bachelor head master could need. The living room, study, kitchenette and bedroom were well-furnished with items of only the highest quality.

When Xander entered, some sandwiches sat on the coffee table. Giles calmly munched one in the leather wing chair next to the fire place. A small blaze crackled merrily in the grate.

"Why do you have a fire?" Xander asked. "It's May! Granted, it's a much chillier May than Southern California, but still..."

Giles just smiled. "I missed fires. The sound and the scent especially. Sunnydale was never cold enough for them."

Xander nodded, then sat down and grabbed a sandwich. He smiled to see a glass of Coke waiting for him on a coaster. "You know me so well."

"It comes from months of keen observation," Giles assured him. Then he said, "Xander, is everything quite all right? You look a bit... well... not yourself."

"Fine..." Xander started to say, but he couldn't get the words out.

Giles set down his sandwich and his tea cup. Then he leaned forward to give the young man on the couch his full attention. "Tell me about it."

And Xander did. All of a sudden, every single one of his fears and insecurities came flooding out. His fear that he wasn't good enough at the bookwork to be a Watcher. The trouble with Nelson and the others. The field exercises bet. How much he missed home where things were safe and secure and Buffy was waiting. And even the stuff about his parents and how they'd practically kicked him out of the house. When the deluge of words was over, Xander sat back and took a deep breath. Then he looked at Giles.

The older man had removed his glasses, and was polishing them with his handkerchief. Assured that Xander was done talking, Giles put the glasses back on and looked at the lad evenly.

"I didn't realize the adjustment had been so hard for you."

"I guess I hadn't either," Xander admitted with some surprise. "That stuff had just been bottled up... Bet you wish you hadn't pulled the cork, huh?"

Giles gave a small smile at Xander's attempt for levity, but the serious look was quick to reappear on his face. "I'm sorry about your parents, Xander. That is a very hard thing for a man your age to face. This may be cold comfort, but I know that you can do so. My mother, a strong Watcher in her own right, always used to say 'it can always make you stronger.' That may be cliché, but it has its validity. And home is a fluid concept. Your parents' house may not be your home any more, but you can find another home. All you have to do is look for one.

"And, believe it or not, I understand homesickness, I can understand. When I first arrived in Sunnydale, I missed England with my whole being. The fog, the chill in the air, even the smell of it. But over time, that got better. And now, every once in a while, I even find myself longing for a day of Southern California sun... but if you ever tell anyone that, I will deny it vehemently."

Xander laughed out loud at that one. Who knew Giles had even the smallest of kernel of a California dude inside? But the Watcher was already moving on in his speech.

"As for your fears, as we discussed before, you are behind in your studies compared to the students here. Most young Watchers are groomed from the get-go. They know their destiny and start working for it. But you are making great strides, Xander. Don't worry about that. From your school records back in Sunnydale, I never would have guessed. But I knew you, and I knew what you could do when you put your mind to something. You took it upon yourself to step into the shoes of the Slayer, someone with special powers for hunting and killing vampires. And you survived. I know you can do the same here. It's just a different venue." Giles paused and then said, "I wasn't going to tell you this, but I guess it can't hurt. I spoke with Ms. Fisher today, your language tutor."

"Oh great!" Xander moaned. "Whatever she said is a complete exaggeration! I have been working my butt off for her."

"That's what she said."

Xander looked at Giles in shock.

"Well, she didn't actually say the word 'butt'" Giles amended. "But she did say that you have improved more quickly than any student she's ever taught. And coming from her, that is quite a compliment."

"Really?" Xander couldn't stop surprise from coloring his voice. "Ms. Fisher really said that?"

Giles nodded. "She did. Now about this bet..."

"Yeah...?" Xander wondered if Giles was going to chastise him now.

"Field exercises are a rite of passage. Every class has to take them. Several times." Giles sat back in his chair. "Their purpose is to prepare a Watcher for the eventuality of conflict with the forces of darkness. In the past, the forces of darkness were represented by instructors. When I took them they were controlled. Impossible to fail. I have come to think that is a disservice to the students. The real forces of darkness are not that easy to defeat."

"So you're revamping them... pardon the term?" Xander asked.

Giles nodded. "I already have. It was one of my first tasks as head master. But knowing you as I do... I'm in no way worried about the outcome." He hesitated and then added, "Unless, of course, you get too cocky and make mistakes."

"Don't worry," Xander said with a facsimile of his natural grin. "I trained with the best, right? You've made me more than aware of my flaws."

"So long as you stay that way. My field exercises are going to require one hundred percent from you."

Xander nodded, feeling better than he had in a long time. "Thanks, Giles. This has... helped."

"Glad to be of service." Giles glanced at the phone. "It should be late enough to call now." He glanced back at Xander. "By the way, last time I spoke with Angel he said you had not called him. Why?"

Xander sighed. "I don't know... I just felt kind of awkward. I hate good-byes, and Angel... well, he's been pretty important to me. We're practically brothers. And that made it even harder."

"Ah."

That was all Giles said, but Xander felt guilty anyway. "I'll call him, though. I will. I just have to... find the words."

"The longer you wait..."

"The harder it gets. I know."

"Well, then." Giles reached for the phone. "Shall we?"

Xander nodded eagerly. "Yeah. It will be good to say hi to dear old Parker."

Giles just smiled as he reached out to dial the phone.

Xander’s Room

After some time on the phone with Sonya and the long talk with Giles, Xander felt much better about things. He went back up to his room with an almost happy expression on his face. He even stopped to see if Edward and his friends were still open to him going out with them, but they had already left.

"Oh, well," Xander told himself philosophically, "studying is more important anyway." The idea of being so diligent with his studies was still a new thing with Xander, but he was working on it. And after Giles's words of encouragement, he was actually ready to tackle his Latin homework. Haley Fisher would be surprised how much better he was, he vowed to himself.

His smile vanished, however, as soon as he had stepped through the door to his room and turned on the light. The boxes from Sunnydale were still there, lying in the middle of the floor. His whole life was in those boxes. A life his parents were obviously either too insane or too heartless to care about.

Xander could feel the rage building up inside him again. His mouth tightened to a thin, white line.

"No," Xander said to himself. He walked over to the mirror and stared at his reflection. "You will not break down again. They... He doesn't deserve that much emotion from you." After a few seconds of deep breathing, Xander felt a little better. But he couldn't deal with the boxes right now. He couldn't or his fragile sense of calm, of peace, would vanish like a tiny breeze.

Xander went to his bed and pulled the blanket off of the top. With several strong kicks, the boxes were squashed up against the wall in the corner of his room. He covered them with the blanket. Then he turned and sat down at his desk. The other box, the box from Buffy, was there. He looked inside at the note she had sent him. He kissed it. Then he put the box aside and opened his Latin book, burying himself in his studies.

The Training Academy

The day of the field exercises approached swiftly -- more swiftly than Xander could have believed. He kept to his routine of studying and working out. He cut out any unnecessary interactions. Edward stopped by a couple of times to invite Xander to go places, but Xander always said no. He couldn't do anything else until he had passed the field exercises, and beaten Nelson. And having something to focus every ounce of his energy on let Xander forget about the boxes hidden under the blanket in the corner of his room. That was what Xander had always done. When his parents hurt him, or each other, he focused on something else. First it had been Willow and Jesse. Then it became Sonya and the war against vampires. Then being the Pseudo-Slayer and picking up the slack after Sonya's injury. Then it was Buffy. Now it was school.

Xander had dreams. Every time one of his instructors told him how well he was doing, he didn't see the approval from some trainees, or the hatred from others, those in Nelson's group. He just saw that he was one step closer to being back in Sunnydale. Back with Buffy and his friends. And maybe, when he was there, Xander would finally have the chance to show his father just what he had missed. Every time Xander punched the straw-filled dummy in hand-to-hand training, it was his father's face that he saw.

The day of the field exercises dawned grey and depressing, just like Xander's mood lately. He got up before his alarm went off, unable to sleep any more. He started his morning routine early -- 50 sit ups and 50 pushups. Then he turned on his computer to email Buffy. One good thing about the Academy was the 24-hour internet access. Giles had instated the policy, believing that the internet was a good study tool.

There was a message already waiting for him. He smiled his first smile since the day before when he saw it was from her.

Xander,

Thanks for what you said yesterday. It really helped. Finals were really getting me down for some reason. But now they're almost over. I hadn't thought before about your classes being that hard. I guess it's just because I know you can do anything...

Things with Aidan are getting better. Less strained. I miss Giles, but it's kind of good to have my own Watcher. Makes things easier with Sonya, too.

Can you believe Sonya and I are almost friends now? It's weird, but a good weird.

Well, I've got to run. English final in 45 minutes. Got to do a little last minute cramming about gerunds! Can't wait to hear from you, as always. Good luck on the field exercises. I know they are today, your time. :)

Love always,

Buffy

Xander dashed off a quick reply, and then put on his regulation clothes for the field exercises -- a black sweater, black pants and boots. Then he left his room. He knew he couldn't eat breakfast before the event -- puking was not a Pseudo-Slayer-worthy action -- so he headed straight for the Compound.

The Watcher Compound was on the other side of quite a large area of property. It was about a two mile walk from the Academy through fields and forests. Xander enjoyed the solitude. The only sounds were the crunching of his own footsteps and the singing of the birds on their early morning jaunts.

Xander actually felt peaceful when he stepped out of the forest cover and onto the well-tended grounds around the Compound. He walked past the stables and the outdoor exercise courts. The first time he had been here, Xander had entered the mansion through the huge front door. Now he, along with the other trainees and Watchers, knew a better way. A side door through the gardens. It led straight into the kitchen.

It was early enough that Xander had every reason to expect he would be alone in there. But he wasn't. A familiar woman stood in front of a tea kettle, urging it to boil faster.

"Ms. Post..." Xander said, surprised. "I... I mean, Proconsul."

Gwendolyn Post, the new proconsul of the improved and purified Watcher's Council, turned and smiled at him. "Mr. Harris. It's not time for the exercises yet, is it?"

"No. I came early. Didn't want to walk over with the group."

A half smile curved her lips. "I was like that as a trainee. Always kept to myself." Her blue eyes narrowed on his face. "It can be lonely that way."

"I'm OK with that," Xander said, deciding it would be too complicated to try and lie to her. "This is just a transition period for me. A learning period."

"Wouldn't it be nicer if you could make a home here for yourself?" Gwendolyn got another tea cup and filled one for him and one for herself. "This place, all the grounds, was meant to be a haven for Watchers. A place we can all be safe and commune with each other. It may have fallen away from that in recent history, but I want to renew that aspect of the estate." She took a sip of her coffee and sighed in pleasure. "We all need a home now and then. Being a Watcher can be difficult, and draining."

Xander took a sip of his tea. He was beginning to like the stuff. Then he looked back at the proconsul, surprised she was actually talking to him. As far as he knew, she never had much contact with the trainees. In response to her question, he said, "Maybe you're right."

Gwendolyn gave him a small smile. "I can tell you don't believe me, Mr. Harris. But think about it, all right?" Tea cup in hand, she turned and headed for the door. "I'll see you at the field exercises. Good luck." Then she was gone.

Xander finished his tea quickly. It actually helped to settle the nerves in his stomach. Then he rinsed out the cup and put it away.

Leaving the kitchen, Xander made his way down the hallways -- with surprisingly few wrong turns -- until he found the room where the field exercises would be held. It was the same room in which Buffy had been tested by the Council a few weeks earlier. Xander hadn't seen that. Pausing outside the door, Xander glanced at a door down the hall. He and Joyce had hidden there, waiting till it was clear so they could sneak around and find the kidnapped Doyle and Sonya.

The large, indoor exercise court was empty when Xander walked inside. He took a seat in the first row of seats and looked out at the floor of the court. It was big, and covered with what looked like sawdust or maybe just sand or dirt. Something softer than concrete, yet not gymnastic mats or something cushy like that. There were several thick partitions, almost walls, free standing in various places around the court, providing hiding places and other things for resourceful trainees. Xander sat thinking about everything in his life, wondering how things had gotten so mixed up. He'd known what he wanted when he started this thing. He'd wanted to make something of himself. He'd wanted to be a Watcher and help the world, and his friends. Now, adrift in a morass of lessons, training, jarring blows from across the sea and snobby trainees, he began to wonder if it was worth it.

"You're here early."

Xander felt, rather than saw, Giles sit down next to him. "Yeah."

"Any reason why?"

"Needed some time to myself. Been thinking."

"About?"

"Life in general."

"Sounds complex."

"It is."

Giles reached out and clapped Xander on the shoulder. "I just wanted to wish you good luck today. A lot is riding on this." More than Xander knew, actually. This was Giles's first big change in the training regimen. Adding real vampires to the field exercises had been too much for many of the other Watchers. Luckily, the proconsul had backed him, approving this trial run.

Xander looked at Giles and nodded. "It will be fine, I'm sure."

Giles stood. "Oh, I arranged a little something for you."

"You did?"

Giles smiled enigmatically. "You'll see."

Field exercises had a straight forward concept. Training young Watchers-to-be for combat-like situations. In the past, groups were sent out against simulated fiends -- usually their instructors in disguise. The object was not to be killed, and it had never been more than a mildly challenging one.

This time, things would be different. Real vampires would be added to the mix, making it more like when Buffy herself was tested before the Council. Any Watchers in the Compound could come view the proceedings and make comments, but only the instructors scored points. Several guards ringed the exercise court with cross bows, an insurance policy in case the trainees couldn't handle it.

The vampires had been captured by an elite crew of Council operatives, as they always were in such cases. After the abolishment of the Crucintium (the test of the Slayer without her powers), this gave the elite corps something else to do. There would be four vampires, and four trainees in the ring at one time -- making for a total of five matches. The trainees would be armed with anything they needed, within reason. One rule Giles had made: no crossbows. Some wondered why the vampires would bother to fight in a place where they had no hope of coming out alive. But blood lust could do strange things to vampires -- and these vamps had been starved for a long time, just for this occasion.

Xander found himself in a group with two trainees he didn't know, and one that he did. There was a girl with red hair in curls that framed a chubby-cheeked face. Freckles dusted her nose, but her green eyes dimmed a little with worry. Xander walked over and introduced himself. He had seen her in a couple of classes, but they had never talked.

She looked up at him in surprise. "Oh, hello. My name is Sarah O'Malley. You're Alexander Harris, right?"

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. Only his mother called him Alexander. "It's Xander to my friends. Or sometimes Harris."

"Xander, then." Sarah's eyes darted around the exercise court rapidly. They stood by the side, waiting for the weapons to be dispersed. All their classmates and instructors sat in the seats around the court. "Are you nervous?"

Xander nodded. "A bit."

"I've never been up against a vampire before," Sarah admitted nervously. "I... I've always wanted to do something non-violent, like keep records, or teach languages to future trainees."

"Both things that need to be done," Xander agreed. "But, you've had all the hand-to-hand training as everyone else. You should be able to do this just fine."

"But what if I can't?"

Xander laid a hand on her shoulder. "You can." He couldn't help it. Xander had always had a chivalrous streak. "And I'll help you. We could team up."

"Really?"

"Really."

"What are you two chattering about over here?"

Xander rolled his eyes and then turned to face the newcomer. "Nelson. What luck us being in the same group." Xander knew that was the favor Giles had mentioned. Now it would be obvious who won the bet. Beside Nelson stood another boy. Allen Greensmith. Xander knew Greensmith was friends with Edward, but he'd never talked to the other guy much.

"Don't worry," Nelson said. "When the vamps come out, I'll protect you all." He put an arm around Sarah's shoulders. "Especially you."

Sarah tried to pull away from the boy, but Nelson wouldn't let go.

Xander stepped forward threateningly. "I don't think she likes you much."

Nelson let go so he could glare at Xander. "What? Do you think she has the hots for you? Just because you shag the Slayer on a regular basis, that doesn't mean you're bloody special."

Xander saw red. He would have punched Nelson in the face if Greensmith hadn't grabbed his arm.

"Don't," Greensmith said in a harsh whisper. "Don't feed into the stereotype. Blood-thirsty, Hellmouth-raised Yank and all that." Xander nodded, and took a few deep breaths.

Nelson just smirked. "I knew your supposed prowess was all show. And today we'll prove it."

"Haven't you seen him in hand-to-hand?" Sarah asked Nelson angrily. "He never loses."

"He's never gone against me."

The side door opened with a loud squeak, interrupting their conversations. Two instructors walked in with a cart full of weapons. The trainees began arming themselves. Greensmith took a cross, two stakes and a long staff with a pointed edge. Sarah took two crosses, a vial of holy water and a stake. Nelson grinned as he took a broad sword and a mace. He stuffed a stake in his pocket as an afterthought. Xander paused before making his selections. There were several other specialty weapons like the sword. He almost took one. It would make a spectacular beheading tool. But he didn't. Xander knew what he was good at. He took three stakes, a vial of holy water and a knife. He stuffed the weapons into various pockets in his serviceable black clothing -- all except for one stake, which he held in his hand.

"Too ill-trained for the good stuff, huh, Harris?" Nelson grinned as he polished the blade of the broad sword with his shirt sleeve.

Xander ignored him and stood next to Sarah. "The key to fighting vamps, is never let them sneak up on you."

She looked up, drinking in his every word. "Really?"

"Yeah. Keep 'em out in the open, and do the job quickly. You'll tire before they will, so you've got to get 'em while you're fresh."

Then there was no more time for talking. The sound of a cage door opening echoed throughout the room, and all the trainees knew the vampires were free. Nelson took off running around the first partition, followed closely by Greensmith. Sarah looked at Xander. He nodded, and they started walking that way together.

They heard a cry, and both started to run. They rounded the partition in time to see a blond vampire, wearing glasses of all things, drop kick Greensmith in the jaw and send him sprawling. Nelson was picking himself up off the ground. He ran at the vampire, sword extended. The vampire jumped so high he seemed to be flying. He landed behind Nelson. Nelson skidded to a stop and turned around.

"Come back, you fiend! Are you too cowardly to face me?" Nelson thundered. The vampire's face grew angry as he prepared for his next attack.

"Oh my..." Sarah said with a gasp.

"What?" Xander asked, all the while wondering what had happened to the other three. They must be hiding behind some of the other partitions...

"That's Penn."

"What?" Xander looked at the girl in confusion.

"Penn," Sarah said again. "I just finished reading a book on all known vampires. Penn was sired by Angelus. They wrecked havoc on the Continent for decades. He liked to... mark his victims."

Before Xander had time to be amazed at Sarah's memory, he heard something behind him. Not a footstep, because vampires seldom make such noise. It was a tiny whooshing, but enough to put his senses on the alert. Xander spun around in time to see two vampires bearing down on them. One was a girl with long, white-blonde hair. The other was a husky man wearing the remains of a tuxedo.

Glancing at Sarah, Xander said, "You take her. I'll take him. Remember what I said."

Sarah nodded. She still looked scared, but determined also. She pulled out a stake in one hand and a cross in the other hand and advanced toward the girl vampire. Xander did his best to draw Tuxedo Guy away from the others. Divide and conquer was the best strategy he could come up with on the spur of the moment. Then he made the mistake of glancing back. Nelson still tangled with Penn, and the fourth vampire had finally made his appearance, sneaking up behind Greensmith, who was still stunned from the kick to the head.

"Greensmith!" Xander yelled. "Behind you!" Then a blow sent Xander sprawling. He jumped to his feet, hoping Greensmith would get it together. Xander turned to Tuxedo Guy. "What happened to you, man? Get killed on your way to the prom?"

The vampire just growled and lunged in, staring hungrily at Xander's neck.

"What, no witty come back?" Xander asked, skipping lightly out of the vamp's way. "I feel so... empty inside." He followed up his words with a kick to the vampire's stomach and a punch to the face. The vampire staggered back a little. Xander pressed his advantage, raining punches and kicks down on the fiend.

It was just when this looked like it would be an average kill, that things got interesting. Xander spared a brief glance to check on the others -- all still alive, so far. Then a handful of dirt flew into his face. Xander coughed and spluttered, trying not to inhale the stuff. His eyes stung and watered. He didn't see the blow coming. Pain blossomed in his chest and he fell down. When Xander could see again, the vampire was on top of him.

They rolled and scuffled in the dirt, the vampire's extra strength weighing Xander down. But the extra strength, and the heaviness that came along with it, gave Xander an advantage. He sagged for a moment, making Tuxedo Guy think he was done for. Then, when the vamp was just ready to sink his teeth into Xander's jugular, Xander pushed up with his knees. All he needed was a little space. Xander pulled the stake up between them and let go with his knees. The vampire couldn't stop himself, and fell onto the stake, bursting into a cloud of dust that set Xander coughing again.

But he couldn't rest. Xander jumped up and looked for Sarah. She held the female vampire at bay with her cross. The vamp growled and hissed, trying to intimidate the other girl. Xander looked at Sarah's face. She was scared, really scared. In a minute, the vampire was going to realize that, and lunge for her despite the cross.

Xander ran toward the two girls. When he was almost there, he dropped to the ground in a maneuver Angel had taught him long ago. Xander flipped and came up on one knee, letting a stake fly. His aim was true -- almost as good as with a cross bow -- and the stake impaled the female vamp through the heart from behind.

Sarah was visibly relieved. She whispered, "Thank you." Then comprehension dawned on her face. "Oh... I'm going to fail. I didn't kill it myself."

"Don't worry about that now!" Xander ordered. "We've got to..."

His words were punctuated by a cry from the other side of the court. Xander turned. Penn had Greensmith up against a partition. The other vamp was nowhere to be seen -- dusted by Greensmith earlier? -- and Nelson lay, dazed, a few yards away.

On the rim of the court, the guards aimed their crossbows at Penn's back. Giles motioned for them to wait one more second.

Then Xander took off running, pulling a cross out of his pocket as he ran. He slapped the cross on Penn's back. The vampire howled in rage, dropping Greensmith against the wall with a loud crack, and turning to face this new threat. Xander darted back a few steps. His eyes narrowed on Xander consideringly. The cross between them seemed a slim margin of safety while looking at Penn's insane eyes framed with gold-rimmed glasses, almost like the style myopic Watchers seemed to favor.

"You remind me of someone... someone I once knew..." Penn said softly, staring at Xander with that hypnotic gaze. "My brother, perhaps..."

Xander heard a scream a few yards away. The other vampire was not dead after all, and hoping to munch on Nelson. Sarah sprang at him before he could get to the dazed boy.

Xander glanced to Penn's side and met Greensmith's eyes. Xander quirked his head in Penn's direction, hoping Greensmith would know what he meant. Now was the perfect chance for Greensmith to stake Penn in the back, while Xander occupied him from the front.

Greensmith shook his head, showing Xander his empty hands. His weapons were gone. Xander's mind started to work. With Penn's eyes on him, there was no way Xander could get close enough to stake him. But if he could distract the vampire long enough to slip Greensmith a stake, the other boy could get him from behind, while Penn thought the other boy was stunned motionless.

It was now or never. Penn looked like he was about to try something. In a series of quick moves, Xander lunged forward and hit Penn in the face with the cross, breaking the vampire's glasses. With his other hand, while Penn was blinded, Xander tossed a stake around to Greensmith. The other boy missed the catch.

Penn thrust Xander and the cross away from his face and growled, "Now you're going to get it, boy." His broken glasses dangled from his face by one ear until he ripped them off and dropped them to the ground.

Xander fumbled for his last remaining stake, but Penn saw what he was doing.

"I don't think so!" Penn grabbed Xander, threw him and the stake in different directions, and then moved to grab Xander again. Xander played limp for a moment, hoping Greensmith would finish Penn off. But it didn't look like that was going to happen.

"What do you know?" Xander asked, biding for time as he searched around for a weapon. The knife was in his other pocket, if only he could grab it without Penn noticing. The only way Xander could distract Penn now was with words. Luckily, Xander always had a plethora of words, and Sarah had given him just the tip he needed as to what would upset Penn the most. "If you were sired by Angelus, you must be the same kind of pantywaist. What is it they say? 'Like sire, like son!'"

Penn growled deep in his throat. "How dare you speak ill of my sire! Angelus is a god!"

Xander snorted. "Yeah, well, if you consider a vampire cow-towing to humans and Slayers godly. The demon with the angel's face has been castrated big time!" Xander pulled on every scrap of information and acting ability he had. "In fact, rumor has it, your 'god' is currently dating a potential Slayer! How's that for whipped?"

The blond vampire roared in rage. "You're lying! Angelus would never... We were supposed to meet in Romania..."

Xander took the vampire's moment of distraction and whipped the knife out of his pocket. "Either he stood you up to screw with Slayers, or he met someone he couldn't handle, and I'm making this all up." In one quick move, Xander brought the knife to Penn's throat and slashed it from ear to ear. "Either way, it doesn't matter much now!"

Penn toppled over, clutching his throat and wheezing in some sort of involuntary reaction, probably because he was trying to say something and couldn't use his vocal cords. Xander knew that time was limited. Penn would heal... unless they took advantage of his momentary incapacitation.

"Greensmith!" Xander shouted.

The other boy finally got his act together. He scooped up the stake, ran over and plunged it into Penn's chest. The blond vampire didn't heal quickly enough for any last words. He just poofed into dust, still clutching his throat.

Across the court, Sarah had jumped onto the last vampire's back, distracting him from his assault on Nelson. The vampire flung her off fairly easily. She pulled out her stake, and tried to ram it into his chest, but he slapped her blow aside, and sent her flying back against a partition.

But the distraction gave Nelson enough time to grab his sword again and stand up to face the vampire. The vamp growled.

Nelson swung the sword at him in a complex series of blows. One struck home against the vamp's arm, but it didn't faze the creature in the least. Nelson changed tactics and started aiming for the vampire's head and decapitation. The vamp grabbed the sword blade in both hands and pulled, regardless of any pain. Nelson held on, but his strength was no match for a vampire's. Then the vampire had the sword, and began aiming for Nelson. Nelson scrabbled backwards, and then tripped, falling to the ground. The vampire's blade bit Nelson in the shoulder, gouging out a bit of flesh and leaving a blood-soaked spot on his sweater.

Behind them, Sarah managed to get to her feet. Xander and Greensmith started to move toward them, but they were too far away to get there in time. Sarah got there, and emptied her bottle of holy water on the vampire's head. The vampire roared in rage, and spun around, aiming for her with the sword.

"Nelson!" Greensmith yelled. He tossed his stake to Nelson. The dark-haired teen grabbed it and lunged. His aim was true, and the vampire burst into dust, leaving the four battered and bruised teenagers alone in the exercise court.

The guards lowered their crossbows and looked toward Giles and the other instructors. Giles made the motion, and the door was opened. Xander, Sarah, Nelson and Greensmith picked up their scattered weapons and walked out the door, waiting to find out how well, or how badly, they had acquitted themselves during the test.

Nelson's face was pale, but while they waited, he managed to find his sarcasm again. Giving Sarah a disdainful glance, he said, "I shudder to think what your marks will be, Sarah. You didn't even kill your vampire. Harris had to come bail you out."

Sarah flushed and looked down, obviously feeling embarrassed. Greensmith frowned at Nelson, obviously displeased by the ungentlemanly and uncalled for remark, but his proper breeding made him hold his tongue.

Xander had no such problem, and he was angry enough to say exactly what he felt. "Sarah may have faltered when face-to-face with her first real vampire, but at least she didn't let the enemy grab her weapon and attack her with it!"

Greensmith smirked at the discomfiture on Nelson's face. Then he said, "You know, I heard a rumor that there was a bet on this match. Something about the loser being the winner's slave for a week?" He paused and glanced at Xander. "I wonder which is the winner. The man who killed two vampires and helped kill a third, or the guy who only killed a vampire after letting it attack him with his own weapon."

An angry flush burned Nelson's face. "I ought to..."

"You ought to what?" Greensmith replied calmly. "I'm just telling the truth. And everyone else saw the same thing, I'm sure. Our whole class was watching, you know."

"It's not like you were a big hero," Nelson grumbled.

Greensmith shrugged. "I never said I was. But at least the vampire I killed didn't wound me with my own weapon!"

Xander stifled a laugh, and Sarah said, "I think Xander has some good service coming to him."

"We'll just have to see what the instructors say about scores, then won't we?" Nelson answered with an air of bravado. They all knew that Nelson had lost, but Nelson wouldn't admit it until the end.

Greensmith turned to Xander. "How did you know what to say to distract him, anyway?"

"It was Sarah." Never one to hog the credit, Xander deferred to the girl with a smile. "She recognized him from her studies, and once I knew his history I was able to use my history with Angel to try and make him too emotional to think straight. Luckily it worked. I wasn't sure that it would."

"It was very good thinking, Mr. Harris. Very good indeed."

While the trainees had been talking amongst themselves, the instructors had come up behind them. The unexpected voice belonged to Haley Fisher. Xander gave her a look, somewhat surprised at the praise. His eyes turned to Giles, and Xander saw a proud look on his face, but Giles couldn't talk to Xander right now. There were things to do.

The instructors took each of the trainees off for a one-on-one session to discuss their failures and their successes. Xander went with Haley. Nelson went with Giles. Xander smirked at that, knowing from firsthand experience how little tolerance Giles had for stupid mistakes.

After the one-on-one sessions, Xander and his group sat in the stands to watch the others take their turns. Each group had some mishaps, but there were no actual casualties. A boy named Wendell was nipped by vampire fangs, but a girl named Daphne managed to rescue him. Wendell redeemed himself by staking a different vampire, and after that group left the court, he seemed to be utterly enthralled by the beautiful, athletic Daphne, and followed her around like an adoring puppy. Daphne seemed used to such attention, and mostly ignored him.

Edward acquitted himself well during his turn. He defeated his own vampire fairly easily, and then helped the others where he could, never trying to cover himself with too much glory, but just trying to get the job done.

After all was said and done, Giles announced the scores. No one failed. Even those who had messed up, like Nelson or like Sarah, had redeemed themselves by at least killing a vampire or having key knowledge or trying to save someone else. But Xander got the highest marks in the class.

When Xander went up to Giles to accept the small medal that went to the highest scorer, he was surprised to hear a smattering of applause from his classmates. He'd thought most of them hated his guts, but when he turned to look, all but Nelson and a couple of his closest cronies were smiling at him and clapping. They didn't look annoyed at him or anything.

"I knew you could do it, Xander," Giles said softly. "Enjoy the moment, but I'm sure there will be more to come."

Before Xander could ingest that compliment, he felt a tapping on his shoulder. It was the proconsul!

"You did well, Mr. Harris," she said, giving him one of her rare smiles. "I look forward to seeing what you do in your off-site exam." Then she left.

Xander turned back to Giles. "There's an off-site exam? What is that?"

Giles shook his head and advised, "Don't worry about that now. Just enjoy the moment."

But the moment soon dissolved, in the way that moments do. Xander found himself trailing along behind the group as they all walked back to the Academy. Their classes had been cancelled for the rest of the day, so the tired trainees could rest up from the rigors of the morning and afternoon's events.

As they walked, Edward came up beside Xander. "So, do you feel the hero?"

"Not really," Xander admitted. "This is all very strange. I didn't think anyone here really liked me, especially with Nelson and his group bashing me all the time."

"It may come as a shock to you, but not everyone here is like Nelson." Edward gave Xander a knowing look. "I know that your life in the States is important to you, but you should keep something in mind."

"What's that?"

"The Council is a living, breathing organization. It exists to do more than just fight evil, though that is its primary purpose. It exists also to be a support system for its members. When that breaks down, it just makes our work harder, like what happened to Mr. Giles. Ms. Post is trying to get that feeling of community, of home, back."

"But my home is in Sunnydale," Xander protested. "And, no offense, but most of the people here haven't exactly warmed to me."

Edward nodded. "That's true, but you haven't exactly warmed to them, either. You've never once accepted an invitation to go with me and my mates into the city. You can't find a home here if you never let yourself live here."

Xander thought about that for a moment. "Ed, do you think that I can have a home here, and in Sunnydale?" Even despite his parents and what they had done, Xander felt almost like he was betraying his friends and the people who were his real family back in Sunnydale if he liked England too much.

"Of course, you can," Edward replied. "That's what the Council is all about. Once you make your home here, you can come back whenever you want to, though you don't have to. But one thing might stop you..."

"What's that?" Xander asked curiously.

"When I bloody well beat you up if you keep calling me Ed!"

Tired trainees all went straight to their rooms when they got back from the Compound. Xander unlocked his door and stepped into his room with a sense of relief. It was nice to be completely alone for a while. His eyes fell on his books. He thought he should probably study, but the idea held no appeal. Instead, he plopped down on his bed and picked up his picture of Buffy. He looked at it and smiled at her.

"Hi, sweetie. I miss you. I had a good day, today, though. A very good day." He paused, focusing on her eyes. Beautiful Buffy eyes, the love in them, even in the picture, directed just at him. "And you know what? That's OK. We can have good days while we're apart. It will just make the ones when we're together again even sweeter."

He rolled over on his side and set the picture back on the table. He clipped the medal to the edge of the frame. His new life and his old life... maybe everyone was right. Maybe they could co-exist.

As he lay on his side, his eyes wandered down to the floor and landed on the blanket-covered boxes in the corner. All the physical mementoes of his other life. And suddenly Xander realized that he'd known the truth all along. Even when he went back to Sunnydale, that part of his life -- the part where he lived with his parents and let their opinions and problems rule his life -- was over.

Slowly, Xander sat up. He pulled the blanket off the boxes and stared at them. The letters from his parents sat on top of the pile. In the biggest box was another shoebox. Only this shoebox had actual shoes in it. Xander took the shoebox out and put the shoes on the floor. Then he took the letters and placed them in the bottom of the shoebox. Carefully, he went through the boxes and pulled out anything that explicitly reminded him of his parents: the truck from his father (the only birthday gift the man had ever given his son); the belt his father had used on Xander once (he'd taken it right off Xander's body), after a particularly long drinking binge; the trophy that marked the meet his parents hadn't cared about, or had forgotten to show up for; the earmuffs his mom always made him wear when it was cold, even though California wasn't nearly cold enough for earmuffs... Xander filled the box. Luckily it was a big shoebox -- the shoes inside had been boots.

He hesitated over Leo the Lion. His mother had given it to him on his fifth Christmas. The Christmas that his father missed entirely. The time that now, in Xander's mind, marked the beginning of the end of their family. He still didn't know where his father had been that Christmas, but the absence and the yelling when his father got home had been indelibly imprinted on his young brain.

Xander started to put Leo in the box. There were so many bad memories attached. But there were good memories, too. Willow and Jesse memories. And good mother memories. Like the time he'd lost Leo, and they had to search all over the neighborhood until they found the stuffed animal. And she hadn't even gotten mad, just given him a hug and helped him search. Or the time Leo's eye had fallen off and Mrs. Harris sewed it right back on.

In the end, Xander didn't put Leo in the box. "I need something to remember her by," he mumbled, to whom he was speaking, Xander wasn't sure. He set Leo on his bed, then he got out some tape. He circled the box with tape until it was completely sealed. Then he got a marker and wrote "Keep Out" in bold, black letters over the tape.

Xander dragged his desk chair over to the closet, and climbed on top of it. He reached up and shoved the box back into the corner of the top shelf, next to the box full of Willow and Jesse mementoes. Then Xander hopped down off the chair, suddenly feeling a whole lot lighter inside. A smile actually came over his face as he looked at the junk in the boxes. Feeling a lot better, Xander opened all of the boxes and started unpacking them, finding places on shelves or in the closet for the clothes and other things.

He had just about finished when there was a knock on his door.

"Who is it?" Xander called.

"Edward." The announcement was followed by the door opening and the trainee in question walking in. Edward surveyed the room and smiled. "It jolly well looks like you've moved in, Harris."

"I think I have, Edward," Xander agreed.

After he took in the changed room, Edward turned to Xander. "So, now that you've unpacked... what are your plans?"

"Well, I've always got Latin to do..." Xander started.

Edward interrupted him. "Latin! Nah! Not tonight."

"You've got something better?"

"Yes," Edward replied. "Some of us are going into London again tonight. Greensmith and I figured that we deserved a little holiday after this afternoon. Mr. Giles agreed, and is even loaning us an Academy car so we don't have to pay for a cab." He paused and then added, "Some of the guys were hoping you would come."

Xander glanced reluctantly at his books. Then his eyes went over to the picture of Buffy on his bedside table with the medal attached. Then he grinned at Edward. "OK! I'll go. I just have to do one thing first."

Edward nodded. "We're leaving in an hour. Meet us downstairs."

"Great."

After Edward left, Xander turned and walked over to the phone. There was one more bit of business that he had to settle. He picked up the black receiver and dialed a very familiar number. He didn't know if the person he was calling would be in, but he had to try. His mind flashed back to his conversation with Giles the night before, and then to today's activities.

The overseas call sounded a little static-y, but Xander heard the ringing on the other end begin. When he got a real person instead of an answering machine, he was almost surprised. But he was glad.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Angel. It's Xander. I've been meaning to call you for a long time."

Part 4: Passive Resistance

Booksellers

Though it had been in existence for less than a month, Booksellers seemed like it had always been there. People loved to come in and wallow in the cool, shadowed aisles -- so different from the bright, caffeine-hyped superstores -- and browse in peace. Aidan's shop took hold of the Sunnydale community and made a definite place for itself, and it happened naturally enough that when he had to take time off from running the store to train with Buffy, or to help Buffy avert the next apocalypse, everything was OK.

Some members of the Scooby Gang had part-time jobs at Booksellers, which earned them extra money for little strenuous work. Amy had been the first to take Aidan up on his offer, and, once Rio found out how good the occult books section was, he signed on as well. Faith, of course, refused categorically, but no one was really surprised by that one. Buffy, also, was too busy, but that was understandable.

When school let out for the summer, Sonya surprised Aidan by taking a part-time job as well. On her second day at work, she sat at the counter leafing through a magazine until the little bell hanging on the door tinkled cheerfully.

"Good morning, can I help you?" she parroted before looking up to see who it was. When she saw the face of her friend, she broke out into a smile and greeted him, "Hi, Doyle!"

The Irish half-demon grinned in return and made his way up to the counter. "G'mornin', lass. Slow day?"

She shrugged, closing the magazine and flipping it over so Doyle couldn't see the cover. "We had a rush when we opened, but then it slowed down. How are things in Joyce's garage apartment?"

"Pretty great. I got meself all moved in -- not that I had much stuff ta move. An' a good side benefit is that I'm welcome for dinner any time. Joyce knows how ta cook up a storm!" Doyle's sharp, blue/green eyes missed nothing. As he replied to her comment, his hand snuck out and flipped the magazine back over. "Seventeen?" he read the title with a laugh. "Lass, I'm shocked! I figured ye fer a Sports Illustrated type o' gal."

A deep blush suffused Sonya's cheeks. "Shut up!"

He opened the magazine and, because of the creases in the spine, it flopped open to the page she had been reading. "How to Tell if Yer Crush Really Likes Ye Back?" He snorted with laughter.

"Shut up, Doyle!" Sonya grabbed the magazine away from him and hid it behind the counter. "Quit laughing."

Doyle quickly realized she was serious. "I'm sorry. I didnae realize..." He looked at her more closely. "Were ye really tryin' to figure out if someone likes ye? Because I'm sure that the answer is yes."

"You don't even know who it is."

"Oz?"

Her blush deepened again. "Is it that obvious?"

Doyle shook his head. "Like I told ye in that cell at the Compound, it's very obvious that the two of ye have feelin's fer each other. Everyone can see it."

"It may be obvious on my end," Sonya grumbled, "but Oz is so inscrutable. I never know what he's thinking. After he rescued me in England and we went sightseeing I really thought something was going to happen, but it never did. He never kissed me, or asked me out or anything. I think he just thinks we're friends."

"If he thinks that, it's only because he thinks ye want it that way," Doyle assured her.

"How do you know that?"

Doyle leaned in a grinned at her. "I'm a man. We know these things."

Sonya thought about what he said for a minute. "So... do you think I should ask him out?"

"Might work," Doyle replied. "An' it might be better just ta do somethin' about it instead of just thinkin' about it all the time."

"Yeah, yeah it would!" Sonya decided. She hugged Doyle happily. "That's a great idea, Doyle. Thanks!"

The sound of the bell punctuated her words, and she looked up to see Oz walking in. Quickly, Sonya pulled away from Doyle, the blush coming back full force.

Doyle moved away from the counter, saying, "I've got ta go find Aidan. I'll see if he's in the back..." Then he vanished through the swinging door behind the counter.

Sonya snuck a glance at Oz. His face looked as inscrutable as usual, but she wondered what he was thinking. Had he heard her talking about him? She tried to fight her blushes, but it didn't work.

"So..." Sonya said to Oz. "What's up?"

"Not much," Oz replied, moving up to lean on the counter. "I just thought I'd stop by."

"I'm glad you did," Sonya admitted with a genuine smile.

An answering smile curved his lips just slightly. Then he placed a greasy paper bag on the counter between them. "I know you get hungry about now. I brought you these."

She opened the bag and saw two chocolate-covered donuts inside. "My favorite!" she exclaimed. "Thanks..." Her voice trailed off when she looked up to see him heading back toward the door.

"Bye," he said and then left. She followed him out, but before she got there he was in his van and out of the parking lot.

"Great," Sonya muttered with a sigh. "Just great." She rested her head against the cool glass of the window and wondered what she was supposed to do next.

In Oz’s Van

Oz didn't really know where to go. After seeing Sonya and Doyle in an embrace he couldn't stay at Booksellers and make small talk. He had to go. He hopped in Sheila and started driving. Driving and thinking.

Was it possible that Sonya was interested in Doyle of all people? Not that Doyle wasn't a great guy, but he didn't have a job and he was kind of old, wasn't he? At least 24. Oz knew they'd bonded when they'd been held captive and been tortured together, but he just couldn't picture Sonya with Doyle.

Maybe it was his fault. Oz couldn't help but wonder if that was true. He hadn't made a move on Sonya, it was true, but there were reasons.

Suddenly, Oz realized that Sheila had driven him to The Right Key, a small music shop on the outskirts of town. It was one of Oz's favorite places. They let you try out the guitars. He could sit and play for hours and no one would disturb him. And Duane, the guy who owned the place, knew what kind of equipment the Dingoes needed, and always made it a point to keep it in stock for them.

"Good choice, Sheila," Oz told his van, patting her on the steering wheel. "You knew just what I needed." A little time on his favorite Fender Strat would put things back in focus.

He walked into the shop, nodded hello to Duane and went straight to the Fender Strat. It was his dream guitar -- the one he would buy the second he had more than enough money to make ends meet. He slipped the headphones over his ears and started playing. His fingers danced over the strings. He only knew three chords that worked with the Dingoes, that was the truth, but when it came to non-heavy rock, he could do a lot more than that. Slow songs with beautiful music... Oz could sit there and drift away in the world of music for hours.

"What are you doing here?"

The voice coupled with a hand pulling one of the earphones away from his ear startled Oz. He didn't jump, but he opened his eyes and looked at the girl standing before him with some amazement.

"Playing." Oz took off the headphones and laid the guitar down with the same gentle touch a parent uses to lay down his or her child. "What are you doing here? I didn't know you played."

"I don't." Cordelia Chase glanced around The Right Key with something akin to disdain. "But my father says this is the only place in town with any music sense."

"Your father knows his stuff," Oz approved, though he couldn't picture anyone related to Cordelia -- especially her father, a corporate genius who cared more about board meetings than time with his daughter -- shopping there.

Cordelia shrugged one shapely shoulder bared by her pale yellow tank top. "He went through a hippie phase. Didn't everyone in their generation? Anyway, he only lets Duane's boys tune our grand piano. Usually his secretary sets it up, but she's out sick, the temp is hopeless and Mother's at this great new beauty spa bathing in Belgian mud for two weeks, so it's up to me to get things done."

The corners of his mouth twitched as Oz tried to suppress a smile. Sometimes it was impossible to stay calm and mysterious when Cordelia was in the room. There was something about her that just made him want to laugh. "I'm sure he appreciates it."

She shook her head. "No, he doesn't. But I don't like having the piano out of tune either, so I forebear."

"You play?" That surprised him.

"I took lessons for ten years," Cordelia took great pride to inform him. "My teacher loved me. Said I was one of his best pupils, and if I'd just practice more I would be really something. I haven't played much since junior high, but I can still do some pretty nice stuff when I try."

"I'll bet."

"So," Cordelia said, "you ready to leave?"

Oz glanced longingly at the Fender Strat and then back at Cordelia. There was something in her eyes that he didn't recognize. Something that wasn't completely self-absorbed. "Sure. You?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Duane's sending someone out." She paused and then blurted, "Want to go to the Espresso Pump with me? I'm dying for a frappacino. They have the new mocha ones..."

The Espresso Pump

Less than half an hour later, Cordelia and Oz sat at a tall, spindly table in the Espresso Pump holding two iced coffees. Oz pretended not to notice when Cordelia scanned the trendy shop for members of her clique. None of them were there, of course. Aura, Harmony and the rest of that crowd probably never went out before noon in the summer.

Oz wondered what was up with Cordelia. She had been hot and cold since their return from England. During their time there, while Oz was stuck in the hotel room because of a broken leg, he and Cordelia had bonded more than either of them would ever have thought possible. Oz had actually confided in her some really personal things, and she had done the same. Ever since they'd gotten back, though, Cordelia had gone back to her Queen C ways... most of the time. But just when Oz would think that she had given up on the Scooby Gang and thrown herself back into the social whirl with relish, she would do something unexpected, like show up to help Aidan, Sonya, Faith and Rio move into their new house.

"So," Oz said slowly, unused to being the one to start the conversation. "I heard you and Percy put in an appearance at some of the End of School parties." End of School parties for the elite crowd at SHS began the first weekend in April and took place with astonishing regularity until the Summertime bashes started at the end of May. The popular kids were nothing if not predictable. Oz and the Dingoes usually played several of the parties each year. It was always a trip.

Cordelia tucked a strand of mahogany hair behind a well-shaped ear. "Yeah. We did. Percy's... OK."

Percy West was a huge basketball star at SHS -- the perfect foil for a society queen. But, somehow, Oz just couldn't see the Cordelia he'd met in England settling for good looks and a egocentric personality.

"Still seeing him?" Oz questioned, both from curiosity and politeness.

She shook her head. "No. He tried to maul me, so I told him to take a long hike down a vampire infested road."

Oz nodded, not knowing what to say next. Girl talk, and even just talk in general, was not his strongest asset. He couldn't just leave, though. Cordelia looked like she might finally be trying to break out of her socialite shell. If she did that and he dissed her, she would probably never try again. And Oz thought Cordelia deserved more that a life like her mother had -- charity balls, frequent spa vacations, a superficial relationship with her only daughter and a husband who ignored them both. One thing that came from being the silent type was that while everyone else was talking Oz had time to read between the lines and be discerning. It was an up-side.

"So... how come you didn't come with us when we all went to the beach last weekend?"

Cordelia looked away from him. "No one wanted me there."

"Not true," Oz told her. "You wouldn't have been asked otherwise."

"They were just being polite, and besides... I had Harmony's party."

He thought he could hear just a hint of wistfulness in her voice. "Well, the next time you're invited, I think you should come."

For a second she seem to actually consider his words, then she changed the subject. "I didn't bring you here to talk about me."

"Then why...?"

"I wanted to talk about..." She paused, as if searching.

"Yeah?"

"You!" She seized on the topic with gusto. "What about you and Sonya? You've been making goo-goo eyes at each other since before Spring Break. Are you together yet?"

Oz sighed, not liking this turn of the conversation. "No."

"Why not?" Cordelia gave him a smile that seemed genuine. "She likes you... I can tell. And you told me that you feel stuff for her. I think it is an affront to emotional wellness if the two of you don't get it on soon. Oprah would definitely be offended."

"I think Sonya may be interested in someone else."

"What? Who?"

"Doyle." His focus went off of Cordelia and back to the mess with Sonya.

"She's interested in Doyle?" Cordelia's voice shrilled a little in disbelief. "Who would be interested in Doyle? He's... he's a horrible dresser. You could never take him anywhere. And that hair! Who does he think he is? And he doesn't have a job. And his background... well, questionable is an understatement. And..."

"I know all that," Oz interrupted her tirade. "But that doesn't change the fact that I walked into Booksellers this morning and saw them hugging."

Cordelia seemed to relax. She sat back into her chair and took a sip of her coffee. "Oh, is that all? Well, they're friends, silly. Of course, they were hugging. That doesn't mean they're 'together.'"

"How do you know?"

"I have this sense," Cordelia confided. "I can tell when two people are meant to be together. Buffy and Xander. Han Solo and Princess Leia. Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman... I'm never wrong! Well, there was the whole Dawson and Joey thing, but that could still work out."

"What are you saying?" Oz asked, needing some clarification after that spiel. "Other than the fact that you're a Star Wars geek."

Cordelia looked him in the eye, not bothering to respond to the geek remark. "I'm saying that my flawless dating sense says that you and Sonya belong together. It's obvious. You should ask her out."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Oz settled back in his chair and took a sip of his coffee. "Hmmm."

Booksellers

The bell on the door tinkled cheerfully. Sonya stuffed a book into a bag and made change for a lady in a big, blue hat. Then she looked up to see who had come in. She smiled. It was Oz. "Hi."

"Hey." He passed the lady in the blue hat and came up to the counter.

"What's up? You dashed out of here so quickly last time..."

"Places to go." Oz shrugged. "But I was wondering..."

"Yeah?"

"Devon's brother's band is having a concert in the park tonight. It should be killer. I thought maybe we could go."

A huge smile lightened her face. "That sounds great." In her mind, she kept thinking, He's actually asking me out! Finally!

"Cool." Oz turned and headed for the door. "I'll come get you at seven."

"See you then."

Sonya watched happily until Oz was out the door. Then a sudden sense of insecurity overwhelmed her. She and Oz hung out all the time. They went to concerts and movies, to dinner, things that friends always did. Maybe this wasn't a date after all. Maybe this was just her and Oz hanging out.

"Ahhh!" she screamed.

Aidan stuck his head through the swinging door. He was back there doing inventory on a new shipment of hardbacks. "What's wrong."

Sonya shook her head. "Nothing... sorry. My emotions got the best of me." She hopped off her stool and ran over to Aidan. "I'm really sorry to ask this, Aidan, but can I get off early." She glanced at the clock. It was an hour until her shift was supposed to end. "Like now?"

Aidan glanced around at the empty store. "Why not. Rio will be here in an hour. Go ahead."

Sonya gave him a grateful look and then practically ran out the door. There was only one person she knew of who could help her fathom the mystery of Oz, and she had to get there fast!

Even walking, it didn't take Sonya long to reach her destination. She knocked on the door to the Summers' house with a brisk rapping. When the door opened, she expected to see Buffy standing there, but instead she saw Amy.

"Hey," Sonya said, glancing behind the blonde witch. "Is Buffy home?" It had taken a telepathic link and time together in England to help Sonya and Buffy become friends again. She and Amy had never had the benefit of either of those things. Sonya liked Amy well enough, when they weren't getting on each other's nerves, but they weren't really close.

"Yeah," Amy replied, her smile only partially strained. "She's in the study. Come on in."

Sonya walked inside and turned in the direction of the study. Amy closed the door and followed her.

"Get off early?" Amy asked her co-worker.

Sonya nodded. "Something like that. What are you guys up to?"

"We were just hanging out, watching soaps, eating brownies and glorying in the fact we are not in school," Amy explained. "After Buffy gets finished on the computer, we were thinking of watching Thelma and Louise.'"

Sonya walked into the study and saw Buffy at her mother's computer typing away. There was a smile on the Slayer's face, but it was a sad smile. Sonya walked up behind her and glanced at the screen. Buffy was in an email program.

Before she could stop herself, Sonya's eyes ran down the first few lines of the message: Dear Xander, I miss you so much. It's hard to believe you've only been gone for two months. It feels like forever. I'm so happy that you did well in field exercises, though. I bet all those family-bred Watchers were in awe of what one guy who's lived on a Hellmouth can do! There was more, but Sonya averted her eyes, not wanting to invade Buffy's privacy.

Sensing a presence behind her, Buffy turned and smiled a Sonya. "Hi. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," Sonya explained. "Do you have a minute?"

Buffy nodded. "Sure. Let me just finish this."

"Writing Xander?" Sonya asked, even though she knew. She often wondered how Buffy was dealing with being separated from her boyfriend. Sonya missed Xander, her oldest friend -- even with the occasional phone call from him and Giles -- so she knew it must be harder for Buffy. Sonya attributed missing Xander as the cause for Buffy's recent quietness.

"Yeah." Buffy typed a little more, and then hit send. "We email each other every day. It doesn't make him any closer, but at least we can feel like we know what's going on with each other." When the message vanished into the avenues of cyberspace on its way to the dark-haired, young man in England, Buffy disconnected the computer from the Internet and turned to Sonya.

"So, what's the problem?"

Amy stood in the doorway of the study, also listening.

Quickly, Sonya recounted the tale of Oz's invitation and her worries, ending with, "...so now I don't know what to do. Is it a date, or not?"

Buffy and Amy were quiet for a minute, pondering.

"Oz is a hard guy to figure," Buffy said finally. "But I know that he likes you. He sort of told me on the trip to England, as much as Oz tells anyone anything."

"Yeah?" Sonya looked hopeful.

"Yeah," Buffy said. "So, I think it's a date."

"Wait a minute," Amy cautioned, walking farther into the room. "Sonya's worries have basis in fact. He really didn't say anything to indicate it was a date."

"Oh, no," Sonya moaned.

"I just don't want you to get your hopes up and then be disappointed," Amy said quietly. "I mean, I hope it is a date, but you have to be careful."

Sonya looked at the witch and realized that she meant what she said. Then she sighed. She still wasn't any closer to knowing the truth.

"All right!" Buffy said decisively. "I think it's obvious that we're never going to figure Oz out, but there is something we can do."

"What?" Sonya asked, willing to do anything at this point.

"We can make sure that you wow him so much that even if he didn't think it was a date when he asked you, he wants it to be a date by the time he takes you home." Buffy grinned at Amy. "You know what this means."

"The mall?"

Buffy nodded. "The mall." Then she looked at Sonya. "That is... if you trust us."

Sonya got a feeling of déjà vu. Then she said, "You know I trust you. But you're not cutting my hair this time."

"No hair cutting," Buffy promised. "And besides, I did such a good job of that last time that you don't need another hair cut."

"Well, come on then," Amy said, standing up and heading for the door. "Let's go!"

Aidan and Co.’s House

At 6:55 p.m., Sonya was ready and waiting for Sheila to pull into the driveway. She checked her reflection in the hall mirror for the umpteenth time and nodded to herself encouragingly. She looked good. The mall trip had been worthwhile. She had on a silvery-blue sundress that flowed nicely over her body. The color flattered her creamy skin and brought out the blue in her eyes. Because it was an outdoor concert, Sonya skipped hose and had on silver sandals with slight heels and a cute flower design on the straps. Her brown hair was curled at the ends and hung loose around her face. For luck, she wore her mother's gold jewelry. The earrings and the ring were unobtrusive, but the locket hung down, drawing attention to her slender neck and attractive bust. Her makeup was understated, but enhanced her natural beauty.

"I should hang out with the girls more often," Sonya mumbled as she examined her reflection again. "There are definite advantages to caring about one's personal appearance."

"What are you doing?"

Sonya turned to see Faith staring at her from the bottom of the stairs. Tonight Faith -- dressed in black with deep, red lips and heavy eyeliner and mascara -- was, as usual, the opposite of Sonya's summery ambiance.

"Waiting for Oz."

Faith smirked. "You look really weird, Son." The former roommates were on better terms now that they had their own rooms, but they still clashed from time to time. In actuality, they probably enjoyed it.

But Sonya wasn't in the mood right now. "I look like a girl, you mean." Giving Faith a once over, she added, "And not a slut."

"Ouch," Faith said, but it was obvious that she didn't mean it. She continued down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. "Have fun with your dream boy."

"Thanks," Sonya replied sarcastically. There was a knock at the door. It's him!

"No, really," Faith said. "I mean it. You two are perfect for each other. And if you'll both quit with the passivity, you might finally get it on."

Sonya thought about that for a second, but when she opened the door and saw Oz all other thoughts skittered out of her head. He looked great. Instead of his usual T-shirt and jeans, he was wearing khakis and a maroon button-up shirt.

"You look... great," Oz said, his eyes lighting up as they feasted on her in her new outfit.

"Thanks," Sonya replied, grabbing her slim, silver purse and walking out the door. "You, too." She glanced at him again and their eyes met. She blushed and searched for something to say to get them back on easier footing. "But you know, I expected you to be wearing a T-shirt to support the band or something."

Oz's fingers went to the buttons of his shirt. He opened the top few and pulled them apart to reveal a bright orange T-shirt with a band logo underneath.

"I know you so well!" Sonya cried with a small laugh.

"You do." Then he opened the van door for her.

It's gotta be a date Sonya thought as Oz walked around to the other side of the car. Oz, of all people, wouldn't dress up if it wasn't a date, right?

They drove to the park in relative silence. Sonya was too nervous to spur on the conversation, and Oz, as usual, didn't talk much, other than to ask her if she was cool enough. She said the air conditioner was working great, and then they lapsed into silence.

When they got there, Oz pulled a few things out of Sheila's back doors. Sonya looked down to see a blanket and a picnic basket.

"It's B.Y.O. Everything," he explained. They walked through the park until they got to the bandstand. A small crowd was already growing. Oz staked out a place close enough to see and hear everything but not so close that the band overwhelmed them. Then he spread out the blanket and motioned for her to sit down.

"What's in the basket?" Sonya asked.

He passed it to her, and she peered into it. Inside she saw some sandwiches, carrot sticks and other veggies, two slices of cake, two glasses and a bottle of sparking cider.

"Look good?"

She nodded mutely. Before the silence could get awkward, Devon's brother's band started jamming. People began to clap and sing along to the music. It was nice. Not as hard as the Dingoes, but not EZ Listening either.

"I like it," Sonya said, nodding toward the bandstand.

"Good." Oz busied himself setting up the food, and then they both ate, making talking impossible.

Inside, Sonya was freaking out. This was a date, she was sure of that now, but it seemed to be going so badly. They had lost all of their natural compatibility. She couldn't think of anything to say to him, and he was being even more silent than usual. Oz was always quiet, but when they were together he talked more than any other time. She thought maybe she was doing something wrong. She wondered what she should do to get things back on the right foot.

"Oz..." she said.

At the same time, Oz turned to her and said, "Sonya..."

They both laughed and some of the awkwardness dissolved.

Shyly, Sonya told him, "You know, until you showed up in those spiffy clothes with a romantic picnic, I wasn't sure this was actually supposed to be a date."

His eyes showed his surprise. "Are you glad it's a date?"

She nodded, causing her hair to swing gently back and forth. "Yeah. I am."

"Me, too."

Sonya looked up and found his intense green eyes fixated solely on her. She felt a shiver go up and down her back. "What?"

"I just..." He stopped, as if searching for the right words, and then continued. "I haven't done this is a really long time. It's hard for me to... get emotionally involved with someone."

"Why?"

She really wanted to know, so he told her. Oz told her his deep, dark secret -- the story about the girl he'd been involved with, Sky, and the emotional strings he'd pulled that got her killed. He conveyed the information in as few words as possible, and didn't look at her once the whole time.

Sonya felt her heart swell with his every word. It was hard to hear about him taking advantage of groupies and treating Sky so horribly, but his reactions and regret of those things had matured him into the wonderful man he was today. But they had also created a wound in him that had never completely healed.

"Oz," she said softly, when he was done. He looked at her, and she took his hand in hers. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

"You don't... hate me now?"

She shook her head vehemently. "I could never hate you. Especially not for something that you obviously regret so much. There is such a thing as paying one's dues, Oz."

Their eyes met, and Sonya felt herself drawn to his magnetic green gaze. Then he pulled back.

"Sonya, I..."

She couldn't take it anymore. She leaned forward and kissed him square on the lips. He was surprised at first, but two seconds later he was kissing her back just as intensely. Then he slid his arms around her and pulled her even closer. Sonya thrilled with his touch. Everywhere his fingers grazed her bare skin she felt tingles run amok.

"Good goin', Oz, man."

They broke apart to see Devon, the lead singer of the Dingoes, standing there staring at them with a smirk on his face.

"What?" Sonya demanded, giving him her best glare. How dare he interrupt them now?

Devon ignored her and leaned down to clap Oz on the shoulder. Oz grabbed Devon's hand and stared at him with a meaningful gaze. "Devon, man, this is kind of a mono-e-mono moment, if you catch my drift."

"Fer sure, man. Fer sure." Devon gave Oz a wink and then sauntered off to talk up some girls on the other side of the park.

Oz and Sonya looked at each other and then burst out laughing. The tension was broken, and Oz leaned in to give Sonya a quick kiss. "Sorry about that."

"It's all right," Sonya replied, her gaze going all dreamy again. "As long as you keep doing that..."

"I think," Oz informed her, "that can be arranged."

"Good." Her blue eyes danced with the light of her smile, and Oz thought that she looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen her.

Just then the band started to play a love song. Perfect, Oz thought. He leaned in and kissed her again. And, for once in her life, Sonya did not resist.

Part 5: Mall Rats

The Sunnydale Mall

"I hate the mall."

Buffy Summers and Amy Madison slanted amused gazes at the reluctant girl following them in from the parking lot.

"It's a necessary evil," Buffy assured her.

"It's all a big trick," Sonya Parker groused, pulling her chestnut locks back into a severe ponytail. "An elaborate plan to part us from our hard-earned money. I think some evil demon somewhere invented the mall."

Amy laughed. "Maybe so, but it's still the only place in town we can find enough stuff to get you ready for your maybe-date with Oz tonight."

The thought of her evening's excursion brightened Sonya's outlook. "That's true."

"Yes," Buffy told her with a grin. "Repeat this to yourself when you lose your nerve: Must look good for Oz. Must look good for Oz."

"Must look good for Oz," Sonya repeated obediently, sending the girls off into paroxysms of laughter. They pushed through the swinging, glass doors three abreast and walked into the fluorescent lighting of the mall.

"So," Amy said, when she'd gotten control of herself, "where to first?"

Buffy surveyed the area. "It's got to be just the right place... How about the Wet Seal? They've got cute stuff."

"Why not?" Sonya said, letting them lead her where they would.

The Wet Seal

Cordelia Chase examined all the new stock in the Wet Seal with a critical eye. She needed just the perfect thing for the party this weekend. Something that would make Percy West cry because he wasn't there with her.

Aura had said it was a pool party, but everyone knew that you didn't always swim at a pool party -- it got your hair all messed up, not to mention your make up. Once you dove into the pool, all artificial beauty was gone and you were left on your own merits. Aura, especially, didn't need that, so she probably wouldn't be emphasizing swimming. Cordelia knew she, herself, could handle it if she needed to, but she liked to be prepared for anything. Cordelia's plan of action for such an event was to wear a killer outfit, and bring her bikini and a towel along in a hip beach bag (or wear it under the killer outfit, depending), just in case she felt like getting wet later -- or if all the other girls were doing it, and she had to do it, too.

She fingered a sleek, silk sundress with thin straps and a form-fitting shape. The orange and pink tones -- the "in" colors this season -- enhanced her naturally tanned skin and her long brown hair.

"Percy, eat your heart out," she said with an evil smile as she held the dress up against her. "This'll show you to treat me like a blow up doll." The basketball star had been an incredibly boring date, but Cordelia had persevered through more sports talk that she ever cared to hear so that she could have the most eligible bachelor at SHS on her arm. It didn't hurt that he was quite the hottie, though a bit too bulky for her taste. It was when he tried to maul her in the front seat of his father's Beamer that she gave up on him. More accurately, she slapped him across the face and demanded that he drive her home. Which he did, without speaking one more word. That had been last weekend. So far, he hadn't tried to retaliate, but she wanted to make sure if he did try at the pool party, that she was ready with a flawless appearance and an impeccable wit.

"Oh, Sonya, this is you!"

The shrilled comment got Cordelia's immediate attention. She turned to see Buffy, Amy and Sonya standing in front of a skirt and sweater display. Amy was holding up a sleek black skirt for Sonya to look at. Cordelia lifted an eyebrow at the Fashion Emergency in the making. Where was that little guy from E! with a custom-made makeover when you needed him?

"I don't know," Buffy said, examining the skirt. "I'd go for something with a little more color." She peered at the sweaters and then pulled one out to show the others. "Something like this maybe."

Cordelia practically groaned. A black skirt and a green sweater with Sonya's coloring? Who were they kidding? She shook her head. Maybe it was because they were both blonde. They didn't know how to shop for a brunette. And, if her bewildered look was any indication, Sonya didn't know how to shop for herself.

Amy wrinkled her nose at the green sweater. "I don't like it, but then I'm kind of biased against lime green on any occasion." She turned to another rack and pulled out a white, form-fitting, button-up shirt with flared sleeves. "This might work... with Capri pants?"

I just can't watch this any longer, Cordelia decided. Throwing her choice sundress over her arm, she walked toward the three girls with a purposeful stride.

They heard her heels clicking on the black tiled floor and turned to look at her with surprised expressions.

"Cordelia," Buffy said with a wan smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Shopping," Cordelia responded casually.

"Us, too," Amy piped up, juggling the black skirt and the white shirt.

"For what?" Cordelia asked bluntly. "A run-in with the fashion police?"

Amy's face fell, and Buffy looked at Cordelia defensively.

"We're helping Sonya find something to wear on her date with Oz tonight," Buffy said. "And we'd rather do it without the wisecracks if it's all right with you."

Cordelia felt her heart sink a little bit. "Look," she said honestly, "I wasn't trying to offend you. It's just... well... look at these things you've picked out for her." She appraised Sonya with a practiced eye. "Sonya has very fair skin. Black will make her look like a ghost and white will make her look washed out. This short style skirt won't do much for her figure or her legs. Neither will Capri pants. And green... well, not many people can pull off lime green and come out the better for it." She glanced at Buffy. "You are one of the few."

She took Sonya by the arm and led her over to the sundresses she had just been perusing for herself. "You need something like this. Something flowy that enhances your svelte lines. Skin tight only looks good on stick girls or someone with a double-D cup. Elegant is more your style, I think. And with your coloring, you'd look great in pastels." She looked at Sonya's eyes. "Something blue, especially, to bring out your eyes."

"Really?" Sonya asked. "I don't do the whole fashion thing very much, so I don't have a lot of experience."

"I've... uh... noticed," Cordelia said. She began flipping through the rack of sundresses. She found several blue ones in varying shades. "What do you think of these?"

"Oh!" Buffy cried, touching the silky material. "These are great."

Amy fingered a light blue one with silver accents. "This one is really pretty."

"What about this one?" Sonya asked, plucking a two-toned blue one out of the bunch.

"It could work," Cordelia said. "But take these, too." She put the whole batch in Sonya's arms and gave her a gentle push toward the fitting rooms. "Try them on, and come out and show us each one."

"OK," Sonya agreed, a bemused expression on her face.

That left Cordelia standing with Buffy and Amy. The two blondes glanced at each other, and then back to Cordelia.

"So... Cordelia," Buffy said hesitantly. "I guess thanks are in order."

Cordelia lifted one shoulder in a careful shrug. "I just wanted to help."

"Yeah, but we shouldn't have jumped to conclusions and griped at you," Amy admitted. "Sorry."

"Me, too," Buffy added.

"It's all right." In a fit of honesty, Cordelia added, "I can't really blame you for thinking I was being mean. Sarcasm is my usual M.O."

Amy glanced at the sundress in Cordelia's arms. "Are you going to try that on? It's pretty."

"I was thinking about it," Cordelia admitted.

"Why don't you go do it now?" Buffy suggested. "Then you can model for us, too."

"And after that," Amy added, "we could go grab lunch at the food court before we go find Sonya some shoes to go with whatever dress she picks out."

Cordelia gave the two girls a surprised look accompanied by a small smile. "That sounds good."

"Good." Buffy nodded her head for emphasis. Then she gave Cordelia a little push in the direction of the fitting rooms. "Then go."

Elsewhere in the Mall

Lindsey McDonald was one of the few men in the world who actually liked the mall. He took pride in his appearance, unlike a lot of the guys he knew from back east. And he was good at shopping. He was a man who knew what he wanted, and he was great at haggling over the price until he could talk the shop owner into a discount. Talking was one of his strong suits. That came from being a lawyer.

However, Lindsey's favorite thing about the mall was the people. He would sit back and watch them go by for hours, playing his little guessing game with each one. Lindsey could look at a person and within seconds, tell you all about them. It was an odd pastime, but he enjoyed it.

Take this one for example... the young, slightly-chubby girl in a too-tight mini-dress that tried to be trendy but just came off looking slightly ludicrous. She was a hanger-on, a wannabe. She had probably spent all of her life watching the popular crowd and wanting to be a part of it. But, Lindsey noted with a discerning eye, she didn't have what it took. Not by a long shot.

And the man with the wiry-thin frame and neatly combed hair, who sat perched on a nearby bench reading an incredibly dull-looking book? He wasn't nearly as smart as he liked to appear. It was obvious in the way he held himself. He had too much confidence. Most incredibly intelligent people Lindsey had the good fortune to meet were extremely shy and mild mannered. This guy was just too flashy. Too there. And he held the book stiffly, like he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. While most book lovers treated a book like a long lost friend, cherishing it with a simple touch.

Lindsey sighed, glancing at his watch. As much as he enjoyed his little game, he was tired of sitting here. Enough waiting. He stood up slowly, with an almost feline grace, and began walking to the nearest exit. He'd only gone a few steps when a familiar voice called out.

"McDonald! Planning to leave without saying goodbye?"

Lindsey grinned and turned around to face the newcomer. It was someone he hadn't seen in over five years. "Finn, what took you so long? I've been waiting for almost half an hour."

Riley Finn, an old high school chum, ambled over and pulled Lindsey into a quick hug, giving him a slap on the back. "What can I say? Traffic was hell."

Riley looked Lindsey up and down, noting with amusement that his friend was dressed in a long-sleeved, dark blue, button up shirt and dark slacks. His leather shoes were polished to a shine. "Dressed a little warmly for our fine California weather, eh?" Riley joked. He, himself, was wearing cutoffs and a grey T-shirt. His feet were encased in sandals.

Lindsey rolled his eyes. "Hey, I had an interview with the Mayor earlier. Had to look my best." He shrugged, grinning back at Riley. "At least I left my jacket and tie in the car."

"Thank God for small miracles," Riley muttered, only half joking. He and Lindsey fell into step together, cutting a path through the crowds of people easily. "So," Riley said, "how've you been? Taking the legal world by storm in true Lindsey McDonald style? I like the hair, by the way."

Lindsey looked up at his taller companion, a small smirk on his lips. "Thanks." He ran his fingers through his artfully shaggy, light-brown hair. "It's one of the last holdovers from college. I just couldn't bear to cut it." He shrugged his shoulders. "Though if I take that job at Wolfram and Hart, I'll have to cut it. They have a dress code, at least were the newbies are concerned."

Riley laughed. "I'm sure you'll forebear. We all have to make sacrifices, my friend."

"True," Lindsey nodded, fixing Riley with a pointed look. "Though I'm sure you know all about sacrifices. You must've sacrificed a lot to the military... such as the ability to keep in touch with your old friends."

Riley winced. "Okay, I guess I had that one coming."

"Damn straight," Lindsey agreed.

"But you don't understand how it is."

"Why don't you make me understand? Make me understand how you could completely cut ties with one of your oldest friends for over three years. I may not be the sensitive type, but that doesn't mean I don't have feelings." Lindsey pointed an accusing finger at Riley. "You never once answered any of my emails or phone calls. You wouldn't believe the number of messages I left for you at your folk's place. Then the Mailer-Daemon starts returning my messages from all your old addresses. Now, out of the blue, I get a call saying you're in California."

Riley sighed. "Look, the stuff I'm involved in... I can't talk about it. Not even to my oldest friend. It's really hush-hush."

Lindsey rolled his eyes. "You sound like some reject from an old spy movie." Doing his best spy-man impersonation, Lindsey said, "I'd tell ya, but then I'd have ta kill ya!"

Riley laughed and the tension between them was broken. Clapping Lindsey on the shoulder, he steered him toward the nearest exit. "C'mon. I've got to introduce you to the guys!"

Lindsey raised an eyebrow. "The guys? What, you have your own group of tag-a-longs now? I remember when you used to tag along after me!"

"Ha ha. Very funny," Riley responded. "I'll have you know that Forrest and Graham are both great guys. Good friends."

"Ooo-kay," Lindsey joked. "I can't wait to meet Tree Boy and Cracker Man. They sound absolutely fascinating." Out of the corner of his eye, Lindsey noticed something that made him do a 180 and drag Riley back from the exit sign. "But first, Mr. Military Man, I'd say some reconnaissance is in order. We should canvas the area for potential enemies and other... things of interest."

"What are you on now, McDonald?" Riley asked, confused. Lindsey pointed at a group of four girls sitting at a table in the food court. Two brunettes and two blondes. Each stunningly beautiful in her own right. "That's what I'm talking about, man."

"Same old Lindsey. It's nice to know some things don't ever change." Riley grinned and elbowed his friend with a meaningful leer. Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, he asked, "So, which one in particular caught your eye?"

"The brunette."

"Oh, the glamorous one on the left? She's so your type."

"She would look great in my Porsche, but I was actually talking about the one on the right with the curls."

"Really? Her? But she looks so... um... hostile."

Lindsey winked at his friend. "Hostile can be fun."

Riley rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever, man."

"Seriously, though, there's something about her. I don't know how to describe it, but I have this feeling."

"A feeling?" Riley raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, like she's someone that I'd want to meet."

Riley gave Lindsey a push in the direction of the girls' table. "Well, then let's arrange that meeting!"

The Food Court

Cordelia frowned at her limp Caesar salad. "This is practically inedible."

Sonya leaned across the table to look at the wilted lettuce and the sorry excuses for croutons. "You're right." She sat back down and took a big bite of her cheeseburger. "You should've gone for something soaked in fat and calories like the rest of us."

"It's all the food court can do that still tastes good," Amy added, squeezing some mustard out for her corny dog.

"Want a nacho?" Buffy offered, extending her plate of Cheez-Wiz and beef covered tortilla chips with jalapenos and sour cream on the side.

"Ug!" Cordelia wrinkled her nose and looked pointedly away from the nachos. "Those things look disgusting!"

Buffy shrugged. "Yeah, but if you eat them really fast you don't notice."

"Oh, that is so gross!" Cordelia said, but all four of them were laughing. The socialite took another bite of her salad, and that was when the two most gorgeous guys she'd seen in quite a while chose to walk up to their table.

"Hello there," the shorter one with great hair said, flashing them all a killer smile.

"Hi," Amy replied, giving them her normal, perky smile.

"Hey," Sonya added. Buffy didn't say anything.

"Hi," the taller guy said, with a smile of his own.

Cordelia hastily swallowed and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. Once she was satisfied that she didn't look like a cow grazing, she flashed the guys her mega-watt smile. "Why, hello."

"My name is Lindsey," the shorter guy announced, gazing at each of them in turn. Cordelia thought she noticed his eyes lingering on Sonya for a little longer than necessary, but promptly dismissed the notion for its sheer impossibility.

Lindsey gestured to his friend. "This is Riley. We saw you over here and felt compelled to come over and say hello."

Amy giggled.

Trying not to roll her eyes at the blonde witch's lack of flirting skills, Cordelia tossed her hair in her sexiest manner and then gazed up at Lindsey with her best wide-eyed, innocent look. "I must say... I'm glad you did." She picked up Buffy's plate and held it out to the guys. "Nacho?"

Riley shook his head, but Lindsey grabbed one and popped it into his mouth. Cordelia marveled at how he completed the potentially-messy maneuver without getting the smallest drop of cheese on his classy clothes.

"Thanks."

"Do you guys go to UC Sunnydale?" Amy asked. She had to tilt her head up to look them in the eye.

"Why don't you pull up a couple of chairs?" Cordelia inserted quickly.

Buffy stood up. "You can have mine." Then she turned and walked toward the Bath and Bodyworks store across from the food court.

Lindsey slid into her chair, and Riley pulled one over from the next table.

"That was a little peculiar," Riley muttered, frowning after Buffy.

Sonya gave him a disgruntled look and stood up herself. "She misses her boyfriend. He's away at school in Europe." She started toward the Bath and Bodyworks. "I'm going to go check on her."

"Should I come?" Amy asked worriedly.

Sonya shook her head. "It's OK. Stay and enjoy the... nachos."

Lindsey watched Sonya go, and, once she disappeared into the nearby store, he looked at Amy. "To answer your question, I don't go to UC Sunnydale, but Riley, here, does."

Riley hastened to say, "I'm a graduate student there in psychology."

"Really?" Amy inquired prettily. "I've always been interested in psychology."

Satisfied that Amy was finally getting the hang of things and wouldn't interfere with or embarrass her, Cordelia turned her full attention on Lindsey. "Well, if you're not in college, what do you do?"

"I just graduated from law school," Lindsey took great pride in informing her. "I'm going to take the bar in a few weeks, and I'm also in the process of interviewing for jobs."

"A lawyer?" Cordelia repeated. "That's fascinating." Visions of a wealthy, handsome boyfriend with a (possibly) great car and the ability to buy her lots of expensive presents flashed through her mind.

On the other side of the table, Riley had finished telling Amy about his mentor at college, the renowned Dr. Maggie Walsh, and asked, "Are you in school?"

"Yeah..." Amy started, but Cordelia interrupted her.

"We go to UC Sunnydale. Both of us."

While Amy was looking at Cordelia in surprise, Riley asked, "Undergrads?"

Cordelia donned what she hoped was the self-effacing smile of an undergrad. "We're seniors." That at least was the truth. They would be seniors when school started in a few months. She raised a pointed eyebrow at Amy, and the other girl finally caught on.

"Yes," she embellished. "I'm studying... English."

While Riley and Amy continued to talk, Lindsey leaned toward Cordelia and asked, "And what are you studying?"

Cordelia already had that answer ready. "Fashion design." He nodded, giving her the once over. Apparently he liked what he saw, judging from the gleam in his eyes. "I can see that about you."

"Yes," Cordelia replied, fingering her necklace in a way that drew attention to her classic neckline and perfectly tanned skin. "It's a really challenging program, and UC Sunnydale has one of the best in the country."

"I'm sure."

When Lindsey smiled at her again, Cordelia knew he was hooked. "So... how long are you in town?"

"Only a few days. Just time enough for a job interview and some downtime with Ri'."

Cordelia gave him her best pout. "That's too bad."

"Well, I might be back..." He let the comment trail off suggestively.

"I could give you my number," Cordelia said.

Lindsey pulled out two business cards and a pen. "Write it on the back of this one."

Cordelia did so. Lindsey pocketed that card and handed her the other one. "So you can call me."

She smiled enigmatically. Then she stood up. "Amy and I have to go. We've got to hook up with Buffy and Sonya."

Amy looked surprised, but she went along with it. "Bye, Riley. It was really nice talking with you."

"Yeah," Riley agreed. "Oh, hey, what's your last name?"

"Madison," Amy told him. "Why?"

"So I can look you up in the campus directory."

Cordelia jumped in. "Amy lives at home to save money. You'll have to look her up in the regular phone book." She smiled one last time, giving Lindsey a lingering look. "Bye, guys."

"Bye," Riley said.

"Later," Lindsey told them.

Then Cordelia swept Amy off in the direction of Bath and Body works.

"Wow," Amy said with a giggle. "That was fun. I've never lied to a guy before."

"It has its uses," Cordelia told her. "Never be afraid to embellish a little when it comes to guys."

"But why did you drag us out of there so fast?" Amy asked. "Riley was really nice."

"I'm sure he was," Cordelia answered, "but there's one very important thing you have to remember when you want a guy to call you."

"What's that?"

"You have to leave him wanting more."

"Oh." Amy thought for a minute. "Do you think Riley wanted more?"

"Sure," Cordelia agreed, in the mood to be nice.

Amy grinned. "Do you think Lindsey wanted more?"

Cordelia's smile widened. "Definitely."

Bath and Bodyworks

"Buffy," Sonya said, giving the blonde close scrutiny, "are you OK?"

The words broke the Slayer out of her reverie. She had been smelling "Tea Rose" scented bath gel and thinking about the last time Xander had given her roses, on their sight-seeing tour in London. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Guess I wandered off for a minute there."

"You wandered off to London, didn't you?" Sonya asked perceptively.

Buffy nodded and put the bottle back on the shelf. "Good guess."

"I know that look," Sonya replied. She hesitated for a minute, and then muttered, "I'm kind of worried about you, Buffy. It seems like..."

"All I do is mope about Xander being gone?" Buffy let out a bark of laughter.

Sonya nodded. "I just... I... I'm just a little worried about you. I mean, I've never gone through what you're going through, but is this the normal response?"

"I don't know," Buffy admitted. "I just know that I miss him a lot."

"But, like today," Sonya said, "those guys came over to our table, and you practically ran away."

"I didn't want to talk to them," Buffy replied with a shrug.

"Do you ever think that it might be better if you dated other people?" Sonya blurted. "Not for serious, or anything, but just to take your mind off of things?"

Buffy was shaking her head before Sonya even finished her sentence. "No. There's no one else I want to be with. And there's no one else he wants to be with. We both know that. Now we just have to wait."

"I'm sorry," Sonya said. "I'm no good at this girl talk thing. I should just leave it to Amy."

"No!" Buffy shook her head. "You're great, Son. And I probably should try to be more cheerful. I guess people are sick of being around Mopey Buffy all the time."

It was Sonya's turn to shake her head. "No, it's OK. You should be just as mopey as you want to be. If Oz were gone, I'm sure I'd be mopey, too... if I knew that we were actually dating! Arg!" She dropped a bar of bright blue glycerin soap in frustration and had to squat to pick it up. When she stood up again, Buffy enfolded her in a hug before she could move.

"Thanks, Sonya."

The hug was more natural this time than it had been in London, when they'd bonded a little during their sight-seeing adventure with the boys. Sonya didn't have that stiff feeling for very long.

Afterwards, Buffy sniffled and said, "You're really good at this girl talk stuff. And I'm sure this concert with Oz is a date."

"Thanks," Sonya replied with a grin. "I hope so, too."

"And even if it's not, when he sees you in that sundress, Oz is going to be a drooling hunk of man."

Sonya started giggling. "That's really hard to picture."

Buffy was laughing, too. "I know."

"Hey, guys."

They turned to see Cordelia and Amy approaching.

"Hi," Buffy said, finding a real smile for them. "How were the guys?"

"So cute," Amy said. "It was fun, and Riley was so nice."

"How was Lindsey?" Buffy asked Cordelia.

The statuesque brunette smiled mysteriously. "A very worthwhile use of my time. If he moves to Sunnydale, I think I'll be all set."

The other three exchanged semi-confused looks, but then shrugged it off.

Amy said, "We told them we were in college, and they believed the whole thing. It was great. I think Riley is going to call me."

The four girls started to make their way out of the bath store and into the mall proper.

Sonya looked at Amy in surprise. "You lied? You?"

"I couldn't tell the truth," Amy answered. "It would have blown Cordelia's cover, too."

"But what if he does call?" Sonya asked curiously. "Are you just going to keep on lying?"

Amy looked pained. "I didn't think that far ahead."

"If she wants to keep him interested, she will," Cordelia said airily.

"But you're both seventeen," Buffy tried again.

"Not for much longer." Cordelia checked her watch. "Two months, five days and about sixteen hours and I will officially be an adult."

Buffy shook her head. "You guys are insane. But whatever." She and Sonya exchanged amused looks.

"Come on," Cordelia ordered them, heading for the escalator.

"Where are we going?" Sonya asked, adjusting her grip on her shopping bag.

"The shoe store on level three," Cordelia answered. "We've got to find you some little strappy numbers to go with that new dress you bought."

"She's right," Buffy said, linking arms with Sonya and propelling her more quickly to the escalator. "Let's go."

The four girls laughed and talked on their way to the beginning of their shoe quest, and as they rode up the escalator, the sunlight filtering through the mall skylights haloed them and made them sparkle.

Downstairs

On the first floor, Lindsey and Riley paused by the door and looked back, admiring the girls.

"So, was that a good investment of our time?" Lindsey asked.

"Sure," Riley agreed, "but you didn't get to talk to Sonya."

Lindsey shrugged. "It's all right. Things worked out anyway."

"Cordelia was more your type than you thought?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Score one for team Finn."

"Shut up, Riley!"

The tall, blond guy just grinned. "Hey, man, when I was a freshman and you were a junior, I studied your technique. I'm a graduate of the Lindsey McDonald Training Program."

"What?" Lindsey shook his head. "You're hopeless, Ri'."

"No, but I am late. We both are."

"To meet your friends?"

"Yeah, they've been waiting for us back at the dorm for half an hour."

"It's OK," Lindsey said. "If they're normal guys, they'll understand stopping to pursue beautiful women."

"I'm sure they will," Riley admitted, "but now we've got to go."

And with that, the two guys turned away from the escalator and walked out of the mall and into the sunny parking lot beyond. The Porsche, and the rest of their lives, were waiting.

Part 6: Missing You

An Airplane over the Atlantic Ocean

Buffy glanced at her mother with an excited smile.

"Almost there," Joyce said, returning her daughter's smile. It was good to see that light back in her eyes.

Buffy just nodded, then turned back to staring out the window of the airplane.

Joyce sat back and decided the money spent on plane tickets was worth it. They knew enough people in England to get free room and board, and Buffy had contributed most of her life savings to the tickets. Of course, the life savings of a seventeen year old without a job wasn't much, so Joyce had had to kick in most of the money. But to see that light in her daughter's eyes again. Yep. Definitely worth it.

"Mom?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Do you... never mind."

Joyce turned her head to look at Buffy. There was another expression on her face now. Worry. "No never mind. What's wrong?"

"It's stupid." A light blush tinted the girl's cheeks.

"Nothing's stupid."

"Well...," Buffy took a deep breath and then said quickly, "I'm just a little nervous."

"Why?"

"Xander and I... we've been apart for almost five months. What if... what if it isn't the same?"

"I suppose it's possible," Joyce conceeded, "but it's not like you haven't been in touch all this time. You email every day, and call each other every week."

"I know," Buffy said, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "That's why it's so stupid. But I just want this trip to be... perfect."

Joyce reached out and cupped Buffy's chin with her hand. "Let me give you my best motherly advice: don't stress about it."

"Easier said than done, Mom."

"I know, I know." Joyce pulled her hand back and then sat up straight to look into her daughter's eyes. "It sounds cliche, but it's the truth. Stressing and worrying and trying to make things perfect, that's a sure recipe for disaster. I've lived it. It wasn't pretty. Just take things as they come and try not to worry. Then you'll have a good time."

Buffy sat back in her seat and went back to gazing out the window. "I know you're right, but I just have this sense of... loss of control maybe. Like if I could just grab a hold and force things, then everything will be great. This is, most likely, the only time we'll see each other until he graduates. We don't have the money to be flying back and forth. And neither does he, really. It's got to be perf... It's just got to be great. This trip has to make up for all the time we're losing."

Joyce gave Buffy's shoulder a loving pat. "It will, but you just have to relax."

Buffy nodded, but somehow Joyce could tell that her advice wasn't sinking in. The motherly musing was interrupted by the flight attendent announcing that they were about to start the descent.

Buffy grabbed Joyce's arm. "Here we go."

"Yes," Joyce replied. "Here we go."

Heathrow Airport

"This is it!" Xander wiped sweaty palms on his slacks and tugged at his tie nervously. He and Giles had come straight to the airport after afternoon classes.

"This is what?" Giles asked distractedly as he peered through the window at the transatlantic plane taxiing to the jetway.

"The greatest weekend of my life," Xander replied, pacing back and forth a few steps. Excited energy rolled off of him in waves.

Giles turned to look at the boy. "What?"

"Buffy is coming. She's going to be here, with me. She'll be able to see everything I've been telling her about and meet my friends. And there will be the party. I'm getting a tux, and she wrote that she got a dress. We never got to go to a prom, you know. Or any dance, actually, except at The Cellar. Man, I miss The Cellar. Edward and the guys don't know any places to dance..."

"Xander!" Giles said sharply. "You're babbling."

Realizing the truth of his words, Xander stopped for a moment, and then ended his speech with, "So, it will be the greatest weekend of my life, that's all."

Giles hesitated, and then said, "That's rather a lot of pressure to put on yourselves, don't you think?"

"Nah." Xander grinned. He glanced around and noticed the first passengers disembarking the plane. "They're coming!" Both men watched and waited as people exited the plane. When they finally spotted the familiar women, they both smiled. Xander just watched for a second, enjoying his first glimpse of the real live Buffy in way too many months. His heart caught when he saw the way her blonde tresses bounced about her shoulders, the way she moved, her innate Buffyness. Her incredible eyes searched the waiting area, one person at a time. He was frozen in place, waiting for the instant her gaze landed on him. When it did, her face broke out into a sunny smile that made Xander feel warm from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

"Xander!"

"Buffy!"

At the same moment, they started to move toward each other, meeting in the middle in a big hug. Xander crushed her to him, inhaling the citrus scent of her shampoo. Buffy wrapped her arms around him, just enjoying the feel of him there. Then she tipped her head back and looked up into his chocolate brown eyes.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi, yourself." Xander smiled at her, and then leaned in for a kiss, which she heartily returned.

Behind them, Joyce stepped up to Giles and they shook hands. "It's good to see you again, Rupert."

He nodded. "And you."

They waited a moment, and then Giles cleared his throat. The teenagers sprang apart, looking a bit embarrassed. Buffy stepped over to give Giles a hug, and Xander said hello to Joyce.

"Now that we've all been properly greeted," Giles said, "let's see about getting your luggage."

Once they got all the luggage and found the Academy car Giles had driven, it didn't take them long to get going. The ride to the Academy seemed long to Buffy, after so long sitting in a plane, but it was pleasant enough with Giles to talk to and Xander to sit beside. She enjoyed just having him there next to her. It was just like old times, or so it seemed. Just being in his presence was a luxury she had too long been without.

Just then, as if their minds were on the same wavelength, Xander reached out and touched Buffy's arm with his finger. He ran it down the shoulder, bared by a sleeveless, off-white tank top; around the curve of her elbow; and eventually settled his hand over her own. Buffy shivered, and peeked at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Are you two OK back there?" Joyce called from the front seat.

"Um... fine!" Buffy exclaimed.

Xander chuckled. "We're great. Thanks."

In the front seat, Giles and Joyce began to make small talk about the flight and other things.

Xander leaned toward Buffy. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too," she agreed. "I want to see the Academy and the other parts of your life here."

"You will." Xander tucked her hand between both of his. "I've imagined showing you around ever since I moved into the Academy."

Buffy threaded her fingers through his and leaned back in satisfaction. Things were already going according to plan.

The Watcher Training Academy

When they got to the Academy, Xander lept out of the car and hurried to get Buffy's bags. Giles took Joyce's, and the four walked into the large stone building. Giles led the way to the guest quarters, a floor above his apartment. Buffy looked around, drinking everything in with her eyes as they walked. It reminded her a lot of the Compound. Everything was so elegant. Plenty of antiques and other things that spoke of culure and refinement were everywhere.

The guest quarters were similar to the rooms the students lived in. They had beds, closets, chests of drawers, etc. But they were more luxurious. Joyce and Buffy each had a room to themselves, right next door to each other, connected by their own bathroom.

"This is so nice!" Buffy exclaimed as she walked in and sat her carry-on on the bed. It had been made up with fresh sheets. The pillows looked soft and squishy and the blankets appeared warm and snuggly.

Xander set the rest of her bags down on the floor. "It is nice. My room isn't a great as this one." He walked over to her window and looked out at a view of the surrounding landscape. "My window overlooks the parking lot."

Buffy put the carry-on on the floor and sat down on the edge of the bed. A glance at the door confirmed that Giles was helping Joyce with her things. "Oh, Xander..." she called in a soft, enticing voice.

Xander turned from his perusal of her view and looked at her. His lips curved in a grin. "What are you doing, Buffy?"

She patted the bed next to her. "Why don't you come sit down. You must be tired from carrying my luggage all this way."

"Yeah," Xander agreed, coming over to sit next to her. "I don't know why I had to carry it. You're the Slayer."

"But you're the guy," Buffy replied, smiling up at him.

"Oh, yeah," Xander said, his breathing suddenly becoming uneven. "Right."

"OK, enough small talk." Buffy reached up and pulled his face down until she could kiss him easily.

Xander would have said something remarkably witty like "your wish is my command," but he soon found himself too occupied with much more pleasant things than talking. Things like Buffy's lips, Buffy's scent, Buffy's hands on his back, Buffy's warm body, the thrill when she kissed his ear and the side of his neck...

A knock on the door caused them to jump apart.

"Buffy?"

"Yes, Mom?" Buffy called as she and Xander quickly stood up and straightened mussed hair and clothing.

The door opened and Joyce walked in, followed by Giles. "Rupert said he would take us on a tour of the grounds, if you kids want to..." She seemed not to notice the teens' flushed cheeks or self-conscious glances. If Giles noticed, he didn't let on.

"Actually," Xander and Buffy started to say at the same time. They laughed nervously and stopped.

"Go ahead," Buffy offered.

"No, you," Xander said with certainty.

"Oh... well, Xander said he was going to give me a more private tour." She glanced up and met her mom's eyes, unsure what Joyce would say.

Joyce just smiled. "That's fine. You kids have fun. We'll meet later for dinner?"

Buffy nodded, and Joyce and Giles walked out to commence their tour.

When they were gone, Buffy looked over at Xander, suddenly nervous. "So... you don't have class today?"

"It's Friday afternoon," Xander told her. "I usually have a language tutorial now, and extra classes on the weekends for the accelerated curriculum Giles designed for me, but they let me off for the special occasion. I'm free until class on Monday."

"Good." Buffy paused and glanced at him, admiring the way he looked in his dress clothes. "You know, I can't remember ever seeing you in a tie before."

Xander blushed and pulled the thing off. "I hate ties. But it's mandatory."

"You didn't have to take it off," Buffy protested. "I thought it was kind of sexy."

"Oh, you did, did you?" He started to walk towards her.

Buffy moved to the door. "So... you got to see my room. Now do I get to see yours?"

"Um... yeah. We could do that." Xander turned and opened the door for her. After they locked her door, he escorted her upstairs.

Buffy looked around Xander's dorm room with a smile on her lips. She paused by the bulliten board -- his shrine to Sunnydale and Buffy Summers. There was a picture of the two of them, framed, on the table by his bed. A small medal had been attached to the side.

"What's this?" she asked, fingering the medal.

"I got that at field exercises. I kind of won."

She smiled at him, pride shining in her eyes. "I'm so proud of you."

"I told you all about it over email."

"I know. It's just... seeing the medal makes it more real."

Xander hung his tie on a hook on his closet door. Like the other two already hanging there, he was careful not to untie the knot. Xander wasn't great at tying ties.

Buffy plopped down in the middle of his bed, swinging her legs over the side as she watched him and took in the ambiance of his room. "You have to wear that stuff every day?"

He started unbuttoning his dress shirt and hung it up in his closet. "Yup. Can't get out of it. I swear, these Watcher-bred types were born in tweed."

Buffy couldn't avert his eyes from Xander's muscular chest. Even under his undershirt it was still obviously sexy. He'd managed to get even more fit during his time here, even with all the time he had to devote to studies. His last comment caught her attention, though. "Don't tell me you own tweed now, too?"

Xander sighed and ducked in the closet to finish changing, out of respect for Buffy. She was a little disappointed, but also pleased that he would think of her like that.

"Yes," he called through the door, "I do own a tweed suit. I usually stick to the lighter fabrics, though. Some of the others do too, though they seem quite at home in tweed, never too hot or anything..." He came back out of the closet wearing jeans, a plain, white T-shirt and a blue shirt over it, unbuttoned. Buffy smiled. This was the Xander she was used to seeing. One she wasn't afraid to rumple.

"Are you going to get in trouble wearing that?" she asked curiously.

He shook his head. "I might get teased a little, but we're allowed to wear whatever we want on the weekends."

"So," Buffy said, faltering for a minute. "Tell me about the dance. What's it for? Who's gonna be there, and all that?" She was actually a little nervous about the event. It was going to be so public. This was supposed to be her private time with Xander. And public time with the Watchers brought up bad memories for her. But he wanted to go, and she wanted to be there for him, so she would go. And she would do her best to have fun.

Xander paused for a minute, then straddled his desk chair backwards, so they could talk. "It's a celebration. The proconsul and the board are finally done purging the Council of Chamberlain's influence. They worked practically around the clock for ages, and now things are finally under way. Ms. Post decided that we all deserved a reward."

"Well, I'm glad things are better in that regard," Buffy said.

Xander shrugged a little. "The others disagreed with some of my strong views on the subject. But things are finally getting better. Really better. It makes things easier here."

Buffy suppressed a shiver at the memories of last time she was in England. "I guess it was easier to push that bad stuff out of my mind in Sunnydale. Aidan doesn't give me much time to slack off."

"I can't imagine the Hellmouth without Giles," Xander commented. "It's a weird concept. The opening in the library seems unguarded without him there."

"It was weird for me, too, at first, but Booksellers is a great place. Aidan fixed this killer workout room in the back. Much better for training than the library was. I don't have to worry about knocking over all the bookshelves." She smiled. "And I check the library every few days, just to be sure nothing has... erupted."

Xander frowned, trying to picture it in his head. "That's... nice."

Buffy was off on a roll. "Yeah, and I can't wait til you get to see their new house. The one where Aidan, Sonya, Faith and Rio live. It's really nice. And big. Gotta love Council funding, right? They've done wonders with the place. Those pictures I sent really don't do it justice. And Sonya and Faith actually get a long a little better now that they aren't forced to share a room. That was a nightmare..." She trailed off when she saw an odd look come over Xander's face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said quickly.

She blushed, and felt uncomfortable again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone off like that... on stuff you don't know about."

"It's OK," Xander told her. And he did want it to be OK. He wanted to know all about her life there. He just felt weird hearing, in person, about all the things in her life that he wasn't a part of. It was like a whole different world than the place he remembered and loved.

Buffy smiled. "That's good. So... what should we do now? You could give me that tour before we go meet Mom and Giles for dinner."

"Is that what you want to do?" he asked.

"Sure," Buffy agreed. She wasn't sure that was what she really wanted to do, but it would be a good thing to do.

"You sure you don't want to... you know... stay in for a while?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively, and Buffy blushed again.

She did actually, but she also wanted to spend time with him in a non-physical way. Time talking and learning about what things were like for him here.

"After dinner," she told him. "We'll get our indoor alone time in then. I'm sure we can ditch Mom and Giles again."

Xander nodded, a grin lighting his face. "Sounds like a plan."

Still at the Academy

They toured the whole Academy. Xander showed Buffy where he went to class, where his friends lived (though most people were out doing things on Friday afternoon and not at home for her to meet), the cafeteria, the exercise courts, the stables, the pool, and everything.

Buffy didn't like the exercise courts. Too many memories in some just like those. She was just thankful she wouldn't have to spend much time at the Compound while they were in England. She needed more time before she would feel completely comfortable there again, if she ever could feel that way. The party would be at the Compound, but since Buffy had never actually been in the ball room, she hoped it would be all right.

They had dinner with Joyce and Giles in Giles's apartment. Joyce had actually cooked the dinner, though Giles had helped her, or so she said. They seemed very relaxed, which pleased Buffy. She knew that Giles would help entertain her mother so she could spend time alone with Xander. She appreciated that. Buffy felt bad for neglecting her mother, but Joyce had assured her she wouldn't take it personally.

After dinner, they went back to Xander's room, leaving Giles to show Joyce one of his favorite videos.

The air in the dorm room was charged with electricity. Buffy toyed with the hem of her shirt nervously. She knew she looked good in the skirt and tank top ensemble. Xander looked good, too. He closed the door behind them, and walked over to her. They stood there, looking each other over, drinking in sights they had been denied for too long.

"Hi," Xander whispered, fingering a lock of her golden hair.

"Hi," Buffy replied. Her hand drifted up to his chest, tracing his muscles through the T-shirt. "I've missed you."

"Me, too," he told her. Then Xander couldn't wait any longer. He crushed Buffy too him in a tight embrace and pressed his lips to hers. She met him with equal passion, and wrapped her arms around his waist with a good portion of her considerable strength.

Xander chuckled. Then he picked her up and set her on the edge of the bed. He took off his over shirt and dropped it on the floor. She glanced away, a little shy suddenly. He sat down next to her. And then they were kissing again, completely lost in each other, oblivious to anything else in the world.

Later -- though she didn't know exactly how much later -- Buffy suddenly whispered, "Xander?"

"Hmmmm?" he muttered, busily nibbling the curve of her neck.

She shivered with pleasure, but didn't let it distract her for too long. "I need to ask you something."

He pulled back and looked at her, resting his head on his hand. They were laying very close together on his small bed. He could feel the warmth of her body pressed down the line of his. "What?"

"Have..." Buffy glanced away for a minute. This was something they'd never really had the chance to talk about fully. Something was always in the way. They were sneaking around, or he was under an evil spell, or they were trying to save their friends from being tortured, or they were separated by an ocean... "Have you ever..."

Xander knew what she meant. He could read it on her face. He smiled. Gently, he touched her chin with his hand and guided it back to he could look into her eye. "Never."

"Never?" She started to return his smile. "You're almost 18, and you've never...?"

"Never found the right girl," Xander told her. And that was the truth. For a while there, Xander knew he probably would have given up his virginity to the first girl who offered him the chance. Sex had kind of been an obsession with his younger self. But then more important things had come along. Innocence of a different kind had been stolen from him, and life-and-death responsibilities had taken over the number one spot in his life. "Never even had time for the right girl before you. What about you?"

"I..." she blushed again. Buffy seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. "I... well... no." She lapsed into silence, remembering the chain of events her life had taken, leading up to this point. Maybe, in the long run, the accident had been a good thing. The path she had been on before -- the path of popularity and boy craziness -- would have probably led her to this point much sooner. And with someone much less worthy.

"This is a good thing," Xander told her, tenderly kissing her cheeks and then her lips before raising up to look at her again. "A very good thing."

"I think so, too."

Xander leaned down to kiss her again. She returned the kiss for a minute, and then pulled away.

"What'cha thinkin'?" he asked, changing their position so she could rest her head on his shoulder, and he could rest his on the pillow.

"I don't know..." Buffy whispered.

"Yes, you do," Xander urged. He rested his hand on the top of her golden head. "Something's going on up there."

"This is going to sound stupid."

"Nothing you could say would ever sound stupid."

"I just... I just think maybe we should slow down a bit right now."

Xander was disappointed. What red-blooded, teenaged male wouldn't be? But he also knew Buffy, and he would never want to make her uncomfortable. "If that's what you want, of course, we will. But, can I ask why?"

"It's a really big step," Buffy told him. "I'm kind of nervous about it. I not sure if I'm ready yet, and so I think... well, I wouldn't want us to jump into this just because it's our only time together, you know?"

Xander snuggled closer to Buffy, enjoying the feel of her next to him. "I know. And you're right, I guess. Honestly, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I was just enjoying the moment."

"I was enjoying the moment, too," Buffy told him. "A lot, actually." She began to worry, suddenly, and shifted so she could see his face, his eyes. "Are you OK with what I said?"

"Yeah..." Xander said slowly. "I am. It makes a lot of sense. That doesn't mean I don't want it."

"I want it to," Buffy told him. "I just... I just want to be careful. And smart. I know that I want my first time to be with you. I just want it to be right. And right now just seems too fast, a little bit."

"I understand," Xander replied. "I really do. And I want my first time to be with you, too. Whenever that is."

Buffy smiled and snuggled closer to him. "I love you, Xander Harris."

"I love you, Buffy Summers."

Xander’s Room

The next morning Xander woke up alone. He and Buffy had snuggled and kissed for several hours, but she'd had to go back downstairs before it got too late. She didn't want her mother to worry, and Joyce was the type to check in. And sleeping in the same bed probably would have been too tempting anyway. But, still, he missed having her next to him.

He got up and went to turn his computer on like he did every morning, when he realize again that Buffy was really in England. There would be no emailing today! He was gathering he stuff to head for the showers when someone knocked on his door.

"Harris, you decent?"

Recognizing the voice of his neighbor, and one of his best friends among the Watchers in training, Xander called, "Sure, Ed. Come on in."

Edward walked into the room, frowning at Xander for calling him Ed. It was a running thing between them. At this point, though, Edward knew that his reactions only made Xander do it more, so he limited himself to disgruntled looks.

"What's up?" Xander asked, searching around in his closet for his bottle of shampoo.

"I just wanted to see how you were getting along, you know, with the illuminating Miss Summers in town."

Xander smiled. "Things are fine. She's in her room. We're meeting for breakfast."

"Good, good." Edward glanced around the room. "Everything's still standing. I would have thought shagging with a Slayer would be more... destructive."

Xander's smile turned into a fierce frown. "Shut up, man! That was pretty crude. I thought you prided yourself on being a gentleman!"

Edward extended his hands in a gesture of peace. "Sorry, Harris. Didn't mean to touch on a sore subject. Maybe she didn't spend the night after all? Not what I would have expected after months of pining."

"What Buffy and I do is none of your business. I know you Watcher-types have this fascination with the Slayer since so much of your life revolves around her, but she's my girlfriend, and I'm not going to talk about her like that."

Seeing that Xander was really upset, Edward said, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I guess I shouldn't have said anything."

"At least you can admit it," Xander grumbled.

"Anyway," Edward said, deciding it was high time to change the subject away from male conquests, "the reason I came over was to see if you and Miss Summers wanted to come out with us this afternoon. A group of us are going into London to pick up our finery, and we'll have lunch out... it should be a good time."

Xander quickly got over his anger at Edward. He knew the guy hadn't meant any harm. "Who's going?"

"Besides me?" Edward asked, grinning. "Greensmith and Sarah for sure. Maybe a couple of the other fellows. Oh, and Daphne wants to tag along."

Xander was glad Sarah was coming. She and Greensmith had gotten closer since they'd all done field exercises together. They weren't officially involved or anything, but they were going to the dance together. His eyebrows shot up at the last name Edward mentioned. "Daphne is going?" He hadn't interacted much with Daphne. Right now her on-again, off-again relationship with his nemesis, Nelson, was in its on-again phase. Daphne was also, undeniably, the most attractive girl at the Academy. And she wasn't afraid to use that fact. Thought they hadn't interacted, Xander had observed her several times. She definitely wasn't afraid to use her charms to get anything she wanted. The thing he'd always wondered was why she seemed to want a jerk like Nelson.

"Yes, I thought it odd, myself," Edward replied. "But she asked me after class yesterday, and what could I say without being ungentlemanly?"

"Hmmm." Xander finally found everything he needed and headed for the door. He let Edward walk out first. "Well, it should be interesting."

"So, you'll come?"

He nodded. "Sounds good to me. I want her to meet you guys."

"Good. We're meeting at 10:30."

"Taking an Academy car?"

"If Mr. Giles says yes."

Xander understood the double meaning in that statement. "I'll ask him." Then he left Edward at his room and went down the hall to the showers.

Buffy woke up with a smile on her face. She stretched and yawned in her comfortable, soft, warm bed. There was a soft knock at the bathroom door. Her mother then opened the door and stuck her head inside.

"Good morning, sweetie."

"Good morning, Mom." Buffy looked over to see that Joyce had already showered and dressed. "You're ready early. Aren't you jet lagged at all?"

Joyce shook her head. "Not really, surprisingly enough. Maybe it's the excitement of a day of sight-seeing. Rupert promised to give me an insider's tour, show me the places that only natives know about. I didn't get to see all that much the last time we were here, so I plan to make the most of it." She walked all the way in the room, and sat down on the edge of her daughter's bed.

"You're OK with this, then?" Buffy asked. "With me spending most of my time with Xander? I feel a little like I'm abandoning you."

"It's fine," Joyce assured her. "I know how much you want to spend time with Xander. That's the point of this whole trip anyway. I'm perfectly capable of amusing myself, and Rupert is good company."

"I remember a time when you hated his guts." Buffy sat up as they talked, pushing the down comforter off her legs.

"Yes, well, evil spells will do that to a man." Joyce stood up, ready to go back in her room. "I'm going to go finish getting ready. You should shower and then we can walk down to Rupert's apartment for breakfast together."

As she got ready, Buffy planned the day in her head. It would be perfect. She and Xander could spend the morning and afternoon together. Maybe they could go horseback riding or for a walk on the grounds. She could pump him for more information on his friends, then she would be better prepared to meet them at the party that night. She was really looking forward to the day.

When the women got downstairs, they found Xander and Giles waiting with a plate of kedgeree. Buffy looked at the food suspiciously.

Xander came over next to her and whispered, "I know. That's how I felt the first time he tried to make me eat it. But it's actually good."

She gave him a doubtful look, but when Giles passed her a plateful, she tried it, and found it to be -- if not the best thing she'd ever eaten -- perfectly edible.

After breakfast, Buffy and Xander waved Giles and Joyce off on their sight-seeing adventure.

"You kids have fun!" Xander called after the moving car. Joyce just waved out the window.

"You're so cute," Buffy told him. "It's not like they're going on a date or anything."

Xander shrugged. "You never know. England has quite the climate for romance!" He picked her up and twirled her around in the middle of the driveway. Buffy laughed in surprise. "Now," he said, setting her back down, "I have a surprise for you."

"Really?" Buffy waited in anticipation.

"We're going into London for the afternoon." Xander gestured as he spoke. "It will be great. My friends are all going, Edward, Greensmith, Sarah... You'll be able to meet them before the party tonight and get to know them." Inside, Buffy's heart sank. That was so not what she had wanted to do today. She did want to meet his friends, but the party was soon enough for that. Those old, shy feelings started to swell again. She hated new situations -- like this, or like her first day at Sunnydale High -- hanging out with a group of kids she didn't know. But she could tell from the look on his face that this was really important to him. And Buffy didn't want to let him down.

Giving him the best smile she could manage, she said, "Gee, Xander, that sounds fun."

They began walking back into the building. Xander looked closely at her face. "Is something wrong, Buffy?"

She shook her head and in her brightest tone assured him, "No... nothing's wrong. Don't be silly."

Luckily, she was saved from more of the same by the pack of teenagers waiting for them in the foyer.

"Harris!" a blond boy with a ponytail called in a hearty voice. "You made it. And this is the famous Buffy Summers who decorates every corner of your room." He walked over and kissed her hand. "You are ten times more lovely in person."

"Um... thanks," Buffy said, giving him a small smile, but taking possession of her hand back as quickly as possible without being rude.

"Buffy," Xander said proudly, "this is Edward, my neighbor and a really great guy."

"Nice to meet you, Edward," Buffy said, honestly. He did seem nice, if a bit over-exuberant at first.

Then Xander introduced her to the others. Buffy thought Sarah was very sweet. She reminded Buffy a little of Amy, and Buffy felt comfortable with Sarah immediately. Greensmith seemed like a nice guy, as did the other two boys: Michael Witherspoon and Randal Falen. They all shook her hand politely, and she didn't detect that "oh-she's-the-Slayer" awe in their eyes for very long.

"Harris," Edward said, as soon as the introductions were over, "did Mr. Giles agree to your proposal or do we have to find some other means of transportation?"

Xander put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a key ring. "He said yes, but it's the van."

"That's fine," Edward said. "We've got eight people coming anyway. A regular car would be a bit of a smush."

Counting quickly, Buffy asked, "Who's missing."

"I'm so sorry I'm late," a voice carroled from the staircase. "I couldn't find my sunglasses, and then my heel broke so I had to change... This morning has just been horrid."

Buffy turned to see a blonde vision descending the stairs toward them. She was tall -- much taller than Buffy -- with sleek blonde hair framing her picturesque face. Not a hair moved out of place, even though she walked at a quick clip. Her eyes were big and blue, and highlighted by the right, subtle application of eye makeup. The rosy colors on her lips and cheeks were so perfect that if Buffy hadn't known better she would assume them to be the natural glow of health. But no girl that beautiful wasn't wearing makeup... right? And her body. For being tall and thin, the girl was startlingly well-proportioned. Buffy could tell that all the boys noticed, too, especially the way the girl's breasts jiggled as she moved down each stair. Buffy felt a stab of envy for such a perfect figure. Slaying had put Buffy on the skinny side -- normally a good thing, unless competing against someone with a plethora of curves in all the right places.

The girl walked down and addressed herself right to Buffy. "You must be the Slayer. I am so thrilled for the chance to meet you. When I heard you were coming on this little outing, I just couldn't stay away."

Xander glanced at Edward with a scowl. Edward shook his head, indicating that he hadn't been Daphne's source on that rumor.

Daphne continued, "I am Daphne Le Blanc. It is such an honor to meet you, Buffy."

Buffy returned the girl's handshake weakly. She felt drained just from being in the girl's presence. This was not good. "Hello, it's... uh... nice to meet you, too."

"Well, then," Daphne said, turning her toothy smile on the rest of the group in general. "What are we waiting for? We've got some serious shopping to do, and it isn't often that we girls have such a bevy of handsome male escorts to the shops." The boys around them seemed to stand taller at her praise and they all started walking to the garage where the Academy cars were kept.

Daphne moved on to attach herself to Greensmith's arm. Buffy was glad, until she saw Sarah's face. The other girl -- who Buffy thought very attractive despite a few extra pounds, with red curls and a natural complexion that was to die for, even with the few freckles, -- had a dour expression on her face.

"Everything OK?" Buffy asked Sarah quietly.

The other girl shrugged. "It's hurricane Daphne. You never know what will happen. I didn't know she was interested in Allen, though." Her eyes kept flashing back to Greensmith and Daphne.

"Are you interested in Allen?" Buffy asked with a knowing smile.

Sarah's amazing skin colored with a delicate pink blush. "We're just friends... right now. But we're going to the gala together tonight."

"You never know what can happen at a gala," Buffy told Sarah with a confidence she hoped sounded genuine. "Of course, I guess I'm not a good one to ask. Xander and I met when he saved me from a vampire... that was before I became the Slayer."

"Really?" Sarah asked. "Xander never told me that."

"It's totally true," Buffy swore. "Then he walked me home, to keep me safe, and we were attacked by his old best friend, who had become a vampire, and this other vampire, Spike. It was messy."

"You met William the Bloody before you were the Slayer?" Among the trainees, Sarah had the most knowledge about vampire trivia. It had come in handy for her during the field exercises.

Buffy nodded. "When we made it into the house, I was really glad about that can't-come-in-unless-invited stipulation, let me tell you!"

"I shoud say!" Sarah agreed.

"What are you girls chatting about over here?"

Buffy looked up and smiled as Xander slid his arm around her waist. "I was just telling Sarah about the first time we met."

Xander threw his head back dramatically. "Not that old story, please!"

Sarah and Buffy both laughed at him.

"You three seem to be having fun."

Xander stiffened, as did the girls, when Daphne spoke to them. Buffy wasn't sure if it were her imagination or not, but it seemed like the svelte bombshell directed her batting eyelashes toward Xander for a prolonged moment. At least, she consoled herself, he didn't seem to care.

"That's what today is for, Daphne," Sarah said quietly, then she got into the back of the van.

"Daphne," Xander said, "why don't you sit in the front seat?"

"Why, thank you, Xander," Daphne said with a smile. "Help me up?"

Xander didn't know what to make of that, but in the land of gentlemen, he had to do it. He opened the door for her and gave her a hand up. After closing the door on her, he leaned down to Buffy and murmured, "At least up there she'll be out of her hair."

"I don't suppose you want to practice your driving, Harris?"

Buffy looked up, trying to conceal a pained expression. She gave a sigh of relief when Xander said, "You know I can't get past how you guys drive on the wrong side of the road. You'd better do it, Ed. Or let Michael." Then he turned to help Buffy into the van.

After driving into London proper, Buffy discovered that the fun part of going shopping with a group of natives was getting the inside scoop. They didn't go to any of the famous, expensive stores. Instead, they ended up in Soho, a quaint shopping district with plenty of shops that contained both quality merchandise at good prices. The people selling things on the street -- flowers, jewelry, etc. -- charmed Buffy, and added to the ambiance of the whole area.

"This is great," Buffy remarked as they parked the van in an unobtrusive spot and disembarked. "You guys will be able to find great stuff for the party tonight." Thinking about that, she leaned to Sarah and asked, "How come you don't already have stuff?"

"Because," Daphne said loudly, "we don't have time to go shopping every day. Classes take up a lot of time, you know."

Buffy blushed. "I didn't mean..."

"Of course, you didn't," Sarah said, giving Daphne a pointed look. "So don't worry about it."

Xander came up just then and took Buffy's arm. He led her to a small tailor's shop on the corner. "This is the place where the trainees get all their stuff altered. They're great, and very reasonably priced. And they do tuxes, too. We've all got to try on the tuxes and make sure they're OK before we can take them out of here." A worried look crossed his face. "That might be a little boring for you, huh?"

Before Buffy could say anything, there was Daphne again. "Don't worry, Xander, darling, Sarah and I will take good care of Buffy."

"Oh, gee," Buffy said weakly, "that sounds like fun." The thought that Sarah would be there, too, was some consolation, though, so she found a smile.

Xander kissed her on the cheek. "Great. I'm glad. Thanks Sarah, Daphne."

"Girls," Edward said, "meet us at Rigby's in two hours for lunch?"

Sarah nodded. "Sure."

Daphne threaded her arm through Buffy's and began pulling her down the block. "Don't worry about us. We girls will get along just fine without you men to watch over us." Sarah had to step lively to keep up with Daphne's long stride. Buffy was grateful for her athletic lifestyle, which allowed her to easily keep up with the blonde's quick pace.

"Here we are," Daphne announced, suddenly pulling Buffy to a stop. "This is the best place to find dresses in the whole of London. I'm sure we can find you girls something here, too."

Sarah frowned. "I'm perfectly capable..."

But Daphne wasn't paying any attention to her. She was looking at Buffy as the girls entered the cute little boutique. "What size to you wear, Buffy?"

Disentangling her arm from Daphne's with as much grace as she could muster, Buffy said, "I brought a dress with me from California, actually."

"You did?" Daphne asked, a wide smile on her pink lips. "How... quaint. What styles are 'in' in California these days? The last time I checked it was all short, tight and spandex." She moved over to examine a stunning, navy blue evening gown with a sweeping, full skirt and a fitted bodice. "Now this is a dress!"

Buffy hesitated, thinking of the dress hanging in her closet back at the Academy. Looking around at all the stunning evening gowns in this store, Buffy suddenly wished she could afford to buy something here. They were all gorgeous. Buffy was stunned that Watchers, even trainees, would wear stuff like this. When Xander said the event was formal, Buffy had envisioned vests with the usual tweed suits or rhinestone encrusted bowties. Not full on black tie gala.

"Which store were you shopping at when you found your dress?" Daphne asked suddenly. "My grandmere takes me to the states for a clothing spree every couple of years, so I know all the good stores. Bloomies. Saks. Nieman..."

Buffy looked away, and said, "You wouldn't know the place. It's a local store." She would not say second hand in front of Daphne. She would not! Normally, she wouldn't have bought a second hand dress for a formal or any other event. But with the family almost tapped out of disposable income because of expensive plane tickets, there hadn't been much to spare for the dress. And even Cordelia had agreed that it didn't look second hand. No rips or stains. And it was very pretty. But suddenly, Buffy would give anything to be able to purchase one of the silky, full-skirted evening gowns in this store.

Daphne had a navy blue dress and a black one in hand. "Well, I'm sure you'll look just darling. In fact, I have to let you help me pick which of these I should buy." She headed for the dressing room.

Sarah, a lovely green gown in hand, paused by Buffy to say, "Don't let her worry you. She's a clothes snob. I'm sure your dress will be great."

Buffy tried to smile. While she waited, she glanced over the gowns in the store. Her eye fell on a mauve gown and Buffy was instantly in love. It was full skirted, with a form-fitting bodice. The lace trim was also mauve. The top crossed the shoulders with thin straps, but the dress had a jacket with tight sleeves, in case the wearer didn't want to show so much skin. It was perfect. Her dream prom dress. She glanced at the price tag and almost choked. Never in a million years could she afford something like that.

"That would look really great on you. It would be just the thing for tonight."

Turning, Buffy saw Daphne standing there, a vision in the navy blue dress. It hugged all her curves in the right places, enhanced the indigo of her eyes and made her look elegant enough to be a princess. "You look great," Buffy managed.

Daphne waved a hand, accepting the compliment as her due. "Really, Buffy. You should think about getting this dress. It is perfect for you."

"I can't," Buffy said. Quickly, she added, "I already have a dress, remember."

"What color is it?" Daphne questioned.

"White," Buffy answered.

Daphne's face wrinkled for a minute, before she consciously smoothed it out. "You're going to wear white?"

"What's wrong with white?"

"Nothing... I'm sure." Daphne turned back toward the dressing room. "I'll just go try on the other dress."

Buffy noticed that Daphne didn't ask her opinion. Guess my fashion sense isn't up to snuff, in her opinion. Whatever. Buffy tried not to let it bother her. She wandered about the shop alone, fingering the pretty dresses and trying not to lust after them too much. There was a small section of the boutique devoted to accessories, and Buffy drifted in that direction. She noticed a gorgeous evening wrap and walked over for a closer look. It was white and very thin. It managed to shine with subtle golden threads in the weave, and yet it also had a lacey feel. She shook it out and tried it on. It lay on her shoulders like it was meant for her. She knew it would look stunning with the dress waiting for her back at the Academy. Taking the wrap off, she turned over the price tag and blanched. Thirty pounds. With the exchange rate, she could never afford that. If it were thirty dollars, maybe.

"May I help you with something?"

Buffy looked up to see a well-coiffed saleswoman standing next to her expectantly. "Um... no. I'm just waiting for my companions to try on their dresses."

The woman glanced at the wrap in Buffy's hands, and Buffy reluctantly gave it to her. The saleswoman returned it to the display, and Buffy wandered off to pretend to look at something else.

"This is way too Julia Roberts for me," Buffy grumbled to herself as she examined some necklaces through a glass case. "Of course, in that movie, she had money." Buffy wasn't used to being strapped for cash. Usually, she and her mother got a long just fine. But this month, what with the exorbitant costs of travel and her father being late with the child support check three months in a row, things were too tight for luxury.

"What do you think?"

Buffy turned to see Sarah standing there, looking almost elegant in the green evening gown. "That's just perfect with your coloring," Buffy gushed.

Sarah colored a little -- she seemed to do that easily. "Thanks."

"Allen won't stand a chance."

Darting a look at Daphne -- who was modeling the black dress (which accentuated her every curve, in a very well-bred manner, of course) in the full-length mirrors outside the fitting rooms -- Sarah muttered, "I hope so."

"You get him, girl!" Buffy exclaimed.

"What about you?" Sarah asked. "Find anything? I loved that wrap on you, but the saleswoman took it back before I could get over here to tell you."

Buffy shook her head. "I'm not getting it."

Sarah knew enough not to ask any probing questions. "Well, I'm off to change. Maybe I can hurry the princess along, as well."

The girls didn't make it to the cafe in time. Daphne just couldn't decide between the navy blue dress and the black one. Finally, she decided to buy them both and decide that night. Buffy just shook her head and kept to the background. Even Cordelia wasn't that extravagant, at least, not with dresses that cost so much at one time.

When they got to the cafe, loaded down with three dress bags, boys jumped all over themselves to relieve Daphne of her burden. Xander took Buffy's bag and she smiled at him.

"I thought you already had a dress," Xander murmured, as he put the bag to the side.

"I do," Buffy told him. "Daphne bought two. She couldn't decide... navy blue or black."

Xander couldn't conceal a smile. "And I thought Cordy was a princess."

"My thoughts exactly." She smiled right back at him.

As Xander pushed in her chair for her, Buffy was pleased to note that Greensmith did have the grace to help Sarah with her bag. Maybe he wasn't so far gone, after all.

Lunch was a crazy affair. The boys were obviously hyper, and they talked about everything in loud voices. Sarah joined in some, and even Daphne contributed. The blonde continued to steer the conversation toward things that Buffy didn't know about. Buffy began to feel lost and alone. A little island in the middle of someone else's life. Xander's life. But he didn't seem to notice. At one point, he even got up and left her there alone with them for almost twenty minutes, and he never did tell her what he was doing all that time. The fact that Sarah disappeared about the same time made it worse because Sarah felt like Buffy's only other ally in the group. She consoled herself with the fact that at least Daphne hadn't disappeared as well. Buffy wanted to keep tabs on Daphne whenever possible. She seemed like the backstabbing type.

"So, Buffy, are you having fun?"

Buffy tried to muster up a smile for Edward. He seemed like a nice guy, if a little over the top at times. And she liked his ponytail. "Yeah, I am."

"How come I don't believe you?"

"I was just wondering where Sarah and Xander had gotten off to."

"As am I," Edward admitted. "But don't worry about it. They've always got their heads together. They've become great friends."

"I'm glad," Buffy said honestly. "Sarah is a really sweet girl, and it's good that Xander is making friends here..."

"But?" He looked at her knowingly.

She looked away. "It's just hard. Like right now." She gestured to the others who were laughing and talking about something an instructor had done earlier in the week. Buffy had never heard of the instructor, and didn't get why the whole thing inspired gales of laughter. "I feel like I don't know what's going on."

"He feels the same way, I would wager," Edward reminded her. "When you tell him about what's going on at home. I'm sure he feels lost, as well. You're in a hard situation."

Buffy nodded, feeling suddenly misty. She noticed Daphne looking in their direction and forced her tears to dry up. "But it's OK."

Edward nodded. "I'm sure you two can make it work. The bond is very strong. I can tell."

She gave him a smile. "Thanks, Edward."

"You're very welcome, Buffy."

When they got back that afternoon, there was an hour or so to kill before they had to get ready for the party. Xander suggested a walk.

"So," Buffy said as they strolled through the gardens. She inhaled the scent of fresh flowers and felt herself coming back to a peaceful plane of existence. "Where did you and Sarah vanish to at lunch? If Edward hadn't been there, I would have been all alone at the mercy of Daphne and her minions."

"Hey," Xander said, in a mock offended voice, "those guys aren't minions. Blinded by her beauty perhaps, but not yet degraded to minion status."

Buffy touched a rose with her finger, feeling its velvety softness against her hand. "You think Daphne is beautiful?"

"Um..." Xander swallowed nervously. "Aesthetically, yes, I would have to concede that she is..."

"Ouch!" Her hand slipped against a thorn, drawing blood. Buffy gave Xander a dirty look. "Being with the Watchers has improved your vocabulary, that's for sure. Concede."

"You didn't let me finish," Xander hurried to add. "I was going to say that even if she is beautiful, you are fabulous. Absolutely stunning. The supermodel of my heart?"

Buffy couldn't help but smile a little at that. "OK, I forgive you." She put her finger in her mouth to suck off the blood.

"Let me see that." Xander took her hand and looked at it. The scratch was already healing. "Lucky you."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It comes with the territory, I guess. So... you never did tell me where you and Sarah vanished to. Did you go somewhere together?"

"I can't really say." Xander dropped her hand and walked over to a nearby bench. "Sit with me?"

"Why can't you say?" Buffy persisted. "You're not having a torrid affair or something, are you?" She didn't believe that in the slightest, but he was acting so guilty. And why wouldn't he tell her the truth?

"Of course not! Is that what you think?" He stood up again to face her. "Why are you so hung up on this?"

"I wasn't hung up on it until you wouldn't tell me the truth," Buffy snapped. "I just wanted to know what was so important that you would leave me alone like that. Daphne is a real pain in the arse -- as a Watcher would say -- and I would have rather been spending today with you, not her, anyway."

"We had to get our tuxes," Xander said. "I thought you knew that."

"Yes, because classes are so hard that you never get away during the week." Buffy glowered at him. "Daphne told me all about it. And implied how I could never understand the pressures of your life here."

Xander put his hands on her shoulders. "Wait a minute. What is going on here? Why are we fighting like this?"

"I don't know!" Buffy wailed. "I just wanted things to be perfect. I just wanted to be with you today and make up for all the time we lost, and instead I'm battling a blonde bitch all morning, and now we're fighting. I don't understand."

"I don't understand either," Xander told her, his face getting hard. "I just wanted you to meet my friends. Get to know them before the party. I wanted you to be a part of my life here for just a little while. Make our lives not so separate."

"I'm sorry, Xander... I just... I just..." she faltered and pushed him away from her. "I just wanted this trip to be perfect!" She pushed too hard and Xander fell down on his butt. He looked up, displeased. That was it for Buffy. She couldn't take any more. She turned and ran away into the mansion, leaving Xander alone in the gardens.

Later That Evening, at the Academy

Buffy stood in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection. She wore a lovely white dress. It wasn't full-skirted and elegant like the ones she'd seen in the boutique earlier that day, but it was lovely in its own way. It was cut close to the body, enough to show off her curves, but not enough to look slutty. The dress had an off-the-shoulder neckline that dipped a little in the back and showed off her tanned shoulders. And the pearly white color of the gown enhanced her natural California tan. A lovely rhinestone and gold choker (borrowed from Cordelia for the occasion, along with the rest of her jewelry) accentuated her graceful neck. A matching bracelet encircled her left wrist. The matching earrings dangled, sparkling against the backdrop of her golden hair. Buffy had curled her hair and inserted a rhinestone clip so that it looked elegant, but it was still down and framing one side of her face. She knew Xander liked her hair down.

Of course, the question that remained was would Xander ever like her again? After the fight they'd had in the gardens, she didn't really know. He was supposed to be here to pick her up for the party in a few minutes, but after the way they'd left things, she wondered if he would even show up.

Buffy nibbled on her lip, thinking about how things had gotten so out of control. She still didn't know. It was all stupid, and it ruined the whole evening. The whole trip. She realized that the nibbling would ruin her lipstick, and stopped.

There was a knock, but it was at the bathroom door. "Yes, Mom?"

Joyce came in wearing a lovely, grey silk evening gown. "How do I look?"

Buffy smiled. "Perfect."

Joyce spun around, showing off the whole ensemble. "It's just the right color for an old fogie like me, huh?"

"You're not an old fogie," Buffy protested.

With a small laugh, Joyce answered, "Well, thank you for that, anyway. And it's just nice to be able to wear this again. I always liked this dress, but there haven't been as many gala nights on the town in my life since your father removed himself from it."

"Dad did like to go four-star, didn't he," Buffy muttered. "I bet he's four-starring it with the woman, or rather child of the month right now, too. They're probably in Monaco or Rio or some other fabulous locale, spending my college money."

Joyce frowned. "What brought that on? Understand that I agree, but I don't like to badmouth your father in front of you. It's not healthy for you."

"And I appreciate the concern," Buffy told her. "I'm just in a lousy mood. It's been a less than perfect day."

"Oh dear." Joyce moved over to stand next to her daughter. "Care to tell me about it? My listening ear is always ready."

Buffy sighed. "I wanted to spend the day with just Xander, but he wanted me to go out with him and his friends. That would have been OK, but then this awful girl came along. The beautiful, rich, snob type. And she just loved needling me. I don't know if she thought it was fun to push the Slayer or if she's just a bitch or what, but it was awful. Then Xander ran out with this other girl and left me alone with the rest of them for a long time. And when I asked him where he went, he wouldn't tell me and we got in this huge fight. Then I came back here, and I haven't heard from him since. He didn't follow me or anything. I don't even know if he's going to come pick me up for this thing or what."

Joyce laid a comforting hand on Buffy's shoulder. "Part of me wants to hug you and tell you it's all going to be OK. But that would crush your dress and ruin your beautiful hair."

"It's OK," Buffy said, finding a small smile. "Thanks for the thought, though. I wouldn't let you anyway, because then I'd ruin your outfit."

"Look, Buffy," Joyce said, going into advising-mother mode, "you should just find Xander and talk all this out with him. It's probably all the stress from a hard situation boiling over. You remember that I told you putting so much pressure on yourselves to have the perfect weekend wouldn't work out well."

"Now you're saying I told you so?"

"In a way, I guess," Joyce admitted. "I'm sorry, dear. I don't mean to sound condescending."

"You don't." Buffy looked apologetic. "I'm just in a rotten mood. I shouldn't take it out on you. I'm sorry, too."

There was another knock. This one from Buffy's regular door.

"That might be him," Joyce whispered. "I'll be in my room waiting for Rupert. If something happens, I'm there if you need me."

Buffy nodded. When Joyce vanished through the bathroom door, Buffy went and opened the other door. No one was there. Buffy frowned and stepped out into the hall. No one. But there was a box on the floor outside her door. She picked it up and brought it back inside. She laid the box on the bed and pulled off the cover. She gasped in pleasure.

Inside the box lay the beautiful gold and white wrap she had admired at the boutique. "But how...?"

She pulled the wrap out to admire the fabric. There was a note underneath.

Buffy,

This explains where Sarah and I went this afternoon. I wanted it to be a surprise. I guess things got a little out of hand. I'm sorry.

Love, Xander

A stab of guilt pierced Buffy's heart as she set the note aside and ran her fingers over the beautiful evening wrap. "He must have blown his whole month's allowance on this."

"Actually, I've been saving up. I just didn't know what to buy for you until Sarah told me about the wrap."

Buffy looked up to see Xander standing in her doorway. He looked breath-taking in his tux. Buffy had never seen him so handsome. The picture was only marred by the serious and sad expression on his face.

"Xander..." she started.

"Me first," Xander interrupted. "Look, Buffy, I wanted to say I'm sorry if I was insensitive this afternoon. I should have asked you before I agreed that we would go with Edward and the others."

"No!" Buffy cried, running over to stand in front of him. "You were totally fine. I was the one putting pressure on us, and being stupid. I know we don't live in a bubble. I shouldn't have gotten so worked up about you wanting us to hang out with your friends. I was totally and completely wrong."

A smile crossed Xander's face. "So, we're both stupid and wrong?"

Buffy nodded. "That's pretty much it."

"I can live with that, I think."

"Me, too." She started toward him, and then stopped. "If I kiss you now, I'll get lipstick all over you."

Xander pretended to think about it for a minute. "Who cares!" Then he swept her up in his arms and kissed her passionately. He managed to do it without mussing her hair and dress. And she managed not to get makeup on his crisp, white tuxedo shirt.

When he finally let her go, Buffy was breathless. "Wow." Panting a little himself, Xander added, "Double wow."

"I love you," Buffy said, resting her hands on his shoulders. "And I really am sorry. I was the one in the wrong here, not you."

"Thanks for saying that, Buffy, but I'm still sorry anyway." Xander smiled down at her, and she felt her heart lift. "And I love you, too. Always have, and always will."

Buffy let out a little giggle. "Now you've got to wipe that passion pink off your lips or the guys are never going to let you hear the end of it." She handed him a tissue, and then stepped in front of the mirror to reapply lipstick and powder.

Soon they were ready, and just in time. Giles -- looking pretty studly himself, for an old guy, Buffy thought -- came to get Joyce and the four rode over to the Compound together.

As they drove up the long, curved driveway, Buffy was dazzled by the glowing lights. "This place looks entirely different. It's like a whole new world tonight."

Xander clasped her hand tightly. "That's what this party is all about."

"The Council has come a long way in the past few months," Giles commented. "Tonight we get to celebrate that."

The men were gallant, opening the doors for the ladies and escorting them into the mansion. The way was well-marked by plenty of sweet-smelling flowers straight from the gardens somewhere. Buffy inhaled happily, enjoying the ambiance. She walked with her arm threaded through Xander's, clutching the edge of her new wrap with the other hand. The decorations, and the fact that the ballroom was in a different part of the Compound than she had previously frequented, helped Buffy keep bad memories at bay.

They walked into the ballroom, and the sight almost took her breath away. The room sparkled with crystal and gold. Soft light filtered down from crystal chandeliers and candles on the walls. A string quartet played beautiful music from the corner, and a decadent buffet had been set up along one wall. White tablecloths set the mood at the tables that surrounded the paneled dance floor. No one was dancing yet, but people had just begun to arrive.

All the Watchers in England, most of those from Europe and some from other continents entirely had flown in for the event. Buffy felt a quick twinge of regret that Aidan hadn't gotten to attend, but someone had to hold down the fort on the Hellmouth during Buffy's absence, and Aidan, Faith, Rio and Angel had been the someones. The trainees were all there too, though teenagers were the minority. Some of the Council's other endevors -- members of the special forces they had begun training (though without Chamberlain's evil methods) -- were in attendance as well. The men all wore suits, most of them tuxedos, all in black or other dark colors. Most of the women wore dark colors as well -- dark blues, greens and reds were quite popular. Buffy caught a glimpse of Daphne, in her navy blue dress, in the corner with a tuxedo-clad boy. She kept casting fuming glances in the direction of another young blonde in a navy blue dress. Buffy smiled.

Xander looked around the room a couple of times as the four of them walked over and claimed seats at one of the tables. His gaze then came to rest on Buffy. She felt warmed by the emotion in his chocolate brown eyes.

"In case I forget to tell you later," he said, "you are the most beautiful woman at this whole event. That dress is the most perfect thing you could have worn."

"It does set you apart, dear," Joyce said with a proud, motherly smile.

And it was true, Buffy's white and gold ensemble -- her dress, the wrap, the borrowed rhinestones and her glowing golden hair and skin -- set her apart from everyone else in the room. But she couldn't really see it. To Xander, that made her even more beautiful.

"I should have gotten something darker," Buffy worried. "I didn't know..."

"I wouldn't change a thing about you tonight," Xander assured her.

"Really?"

He leaned down and gave her a tender kiss on the cheek. "Really."

"Well," Buffy said, trying to feel more inconspicuous but finally deciding that it didn't matter as long as Xander was happy, "you look great, too. Your tux..."

"Yeah, black and white, very original color scheme," Xander joked.

"But on you, it looks original," Buffy told him. "No one could look as good in a tux as you. Sorry, Giles."

"No offense taken," Giles said with a smile.

"Buffy!"

She turned to see Sarah coming over, looking radiant in the green evening gown. Greensmith was right behind her. "Hi, Sarah. You look wonderful."

"You do, too." Sarah reached out and touched the wrap. "Did you like your surprise?"

Buffy nodded. "Yes, thank you."

"May I have everyone's attention please?" The announcement and the tapping of fingers on a microphone made everyone look toward a dais in the front of the room. Gwendolyn Post stood there, resplendent in a golden evening dress, complete with a small train. She smiled. "Thank you. And first of all, let me say that everyone here looks simply elegant."

A smattering of polite applause met her words, and the proconsul beamed out at the crowd. Buffy found the expression odd on the woman's face, but decided she could get used to it.

"Thank you," Gwendolyn continued. "I'm just going to say a few words here, so never fear. The food won't get cold." After a few chuckles, she continued, more seriously. "This gala is a well-deserved event for all of you. Everyone present has earned it. As Watchers, we have just passed through the most dire thing imaginable -- the evil within. And we emerged victorious, though not without copious amounts of hard and grueling work. After all, the hardest thing to do is discipline one's self. But that is what we have managed to do."

Her words were met with more applause, this time much more enthusiastic.

Gwendolyn smiled at them all, seeming almost regal in her bearing and benevolence. "You all deserve this gala -- a night of relaxation, beauty and dancing -- more so than anyone else. And I have some special thanks to give right now. First of all, to Rupert Giles."

Buffy, Xander and Joyce entered into the applause with much more enthusiasm this time. Giles inclined his head in acceptance.

"He went through more than most of us," Gwendolyn went on, "and yet he is still standing. And, more than that, he has gone on to become one of the most valued reformers in the Council. The Academy is flourishing because of his hard work, and we are all in his debt."

She waited for Giles to get his due, and when the applause died down, she continued speaking. "The Board of Directors also deserves a huge debt of gratitude. As do all the members of my staff. They agonized for days and weeks over the mess that had become of our organization. Without them we might not have made it."

Gwendolyn waited again, tucking a tendril that had escaped from her chignon behind her ear. When things quieted down, she went on with the speech. "Finally, though, we owe a debt of gratitude to a group of special young people, two of whom are here tonight. Buffy Summers and Alexander Harris. Would you come up here?"

Buffy looked at Xander in surprise. He seemed just as shocked, but he recovered more quickly. He took her arm and led her up to the dais and the waiting proconsul.

"Buffy is our Slayer," Gwendolyn said when they were standing beside her. "Duty-bound to fight the forces of evil, even when she finds them in her own advisors. She should be honored for taking her duty seriously, and not allowing even those in authority over her to thwart her mission. That is exactly what we need in a Slayer -- a strong, confident woman who knows how to do the right and proper thing, not a silly sheep easily led astray by others."

Buffy colored at the high praise. It was nice to be appreciated and thanked. More than nice, actually. In her job, she didn't get many thank yous. But Gwendolyn was still talking.

"And what can I say about Mr. Harris? He's braved more than any most any mortal would have, and so, naturally, we brought him into our fold. And since he's been here, he has progressed at an unprecedented rate." She paused and then continued in a more reserved tone. "And we also owe their compatriots who remained in Sunnydale a huge debt of gratitude. For wrongs caused, and for things they did to help. And as such, we will have no secrets from future generations. Our records will reflect everything that has happened in the past few months. And they will reflect them openly and honestly, leaving out no blemish. And the names Rupert Giles, Buffy Summers, Alexander Harris, Sonya Parker, Allen Francis Doyle, Daniel Osbourne, Cordelia Chase and Joyce Summers will never be forgotten. We must always remember what they did for us, and how much we owe them."

The room was silent for a moment as everyone pondered their leader's words. Buffy squeezed Xander's hand and smiled at him. He smiled back at her, though the solemn look on his face showed how much her words had affected him, too. Buffy felt the same way. It was nice.

Then Gwendolyn spoke again. "Thank you, everyone, for your attention, and for everything you've done to make tonight, and the rest of our lives, I hope, a success. Now, let us enjoy the festivities!"

Applause rang out again, and the band began to play again. Xander looked down at Buffy. "Shall we?"

"You can dance to this?" Buffy gestured to the quartet that had begun to play a waltz. On the other side of the room, people had started to dance. She saw Giles offer her mother his arm and lead her out onto the floor.

"It's different from The Cellar, but I have picked up a few things."

Buffy accepted his invitation, and Xander swept her off onto the floor. His waltzing wasn't perfect, but it was very good -- especially considering that their last dance together it had been of the stand-still-and-sway variety. Xander actually spun her around, and she laughed in enjoyment.

When she was facing him again, she said, "You have gotten much better at this. And you're so easy to follow."

"Edward taught me," Xander admitted. "I wanted to be great for you tonight."

"Thank you, Xander," Buffy said. "I think things may turn out good after all. But not perfect."

"No," Xander agreed, "but what fun is perfection?"

"None at all," Buffy said decisively.

After several hours of dancing, Buffy felt like her feet were going to fall off. The wrap had been long since abandoned at their table -- she would rather go without it than get her precious gift from Xander sweaty. She and Xander danced half of the dances together, but she also had to dance with other people. Giles had to have a turn, as did Edward and several of the other trainee boys. A few of the other Watchers even asked her to dance, and she accepted, as long as Xander didn't mind. It was a good way to become more familiar with the individuals who made up the Council, and a way to make the Council become less hazy, vague and distant in her mind. The only person she refused a dance was a lanky trainee named Nelson. He didn't seem happy about it, but Buffy knew Xander didn't like him, so she didn't want to spend much enforced time in his company. Luckily, Nelson had Daphne to console him. Buffy decided that the two of them deserved each other.

"You look like you could use a break," Xander said as he steered her around the dance floor again.

"That would be nice," Buffy admitted.

In a smooth series of moves, Xander twirled her around as they passed the door to the terrace and seconds later she found herself outside under the moonlight. She looked up at him shyly. "Alone at last, huh?"

"That's where I always want to be, Buffy." He leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips.

"Careful," Buffy murmured against his lips.

He pulled away. "Lipstick, I know."

She looked away, admiring the view from the terrace. "It's so nice here. I wish I could just stay for awhile. Like forever."

"We could have fun here together," Xander admitted. "It would be nice."

"But that will never happen. Even if everything else worked out, there would still be the Hellmouth back there, just waiting." She sighed and leaned her back against him. He tightened his arms around her. "I'm going home tomorrow, Xander."

"Tomorrow night," Xander said. "Yeah. I was trying not to think about it."

"I have a bad feeling," Buffy said. "Like it's going to be harder to be apart now that we've been together again."

"I have the same feeling," Xander agreed. He sighed, too.

Buffy could feel him behind her, a warm and comforting presence. "Do you know yet when you will be home?"

"No. Giles is still not sure yet how long the accelerated track will take." Xander let her go and turned her around so they could look into each other's eyes. "I have something for you."

"Something else?" Buffy asked, surprised. "But the wrap... it was expensive enough. You didn't have to get me anything at all."

"I saw this in a shop a couple of months ago. It practically jumped out of the case yelling, 'Buffy wants me! Buffy wants me!'" He pulled a small, velvet box out of his pocket.

Buffy's heart began to thump. She looked at him sharply. "This isn't... is it? I mean, we're so young. I love you, but..."

He laughed. "No, this isn't a proposal. Teenage marriages don't have a very lasting track record."

A faint smile crossed her lips. "I know. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about." He looked at the box for a minute. "But you know, I guess this is a proposal, in a way. It's not a marriage proposal, but it's a proposal for our love." He handed her the box.

Buffy opened it and started to cry. Inside was a small silver circlet just big enough to go around her finger. Carved into it was a heart surrounded by tiny, red stones.

"It's silver and garnet, not gold and rubies like you deserve," Xander said, "but I wanted you to have it. That way you could keep my heart with you always."

Buffy was silent, staring at the ring.

"I knew it!" Xander exclaimed. "You think it's stupid and corny. I know..."

"Never."

The soft-spoken word halted him mid-tirade. "What?"

"I would never think your heart is stupid and corny." She extended her left hand to him. "Put it on."

Xander took the box back and removed the ring. His hand shook a little as he slid it on her finger. "It fits perfectly."

"Like it was made just for me." Buffy touched the ring with her other hand.

"My heart was made just for you, I just didn't know it until that day you walked into my school and my life."

Buffy leaned over and pulled Xander into her arms. "I promise, I'll take good care of it."

"The ring, or my heart?" He hugged her back tightly.

"Both," Buffy whispered. They stayed like that for a long time, until duty called and they had to go back into the party.

The Academy

The next morning dawned bright and beautiful -- a rarity in England, the land of fog and chill. Buffy and Xander knew it was a gift just for them. And they made the most of it. They went on a long horse ride together, had lunch with Greensmith and Sarah (now a couple and proclaiming it to the world), walked in the gardens for a long time, and had dinner with Giles and Joyce.

The hours passed quickly, too quickly, but they were happy, except for the knowledge underneath it all that they would soon have to say goodbye. Buffy had to be back in Sunnydale -- a Slayer-less Hellmouth was a big risk. And Joyce had work waiting -- she had postponed a big show to make this trip, and had to get back to it.

After dinner, Xander accompanied Buffy up to her room so she could pack. He sat mopily on the bed while she got all her stuff together.

"Well, I guess that's about it," Buffy said fifteen minutes later, closing the last suitcase.

"Good," Xander said.

"Good?" Buffy asked.

He patted the bed. "Now you can come sit next to me until it's time to drive to the airport. I'm glad that your flight is so late, anyway."

"Me, too." She moved over and sat down next to him.

Immediately, he leaned in to kiss her. She kissed him back. Their kisses were tinged with a bit of desperation now -- they had to get them in before time ran out. It made the passion greater, but more bittersweet.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. They jerked apart.

"You ready, honey?" Joyce called. Luckily, she didn't open the door this time. Buffy could hear her moving around and putting things in her bags.

"In a few minutes," Buffy called.

"Rupert said to meet him downstairs in twenty minutes."

Buffy looked back at Xander. "That's not enough time."

"I know."

He kissed her again. She felt something wet on her cheek. She realized it was tears. Opening her eyes, she saw it was tears from both of them. Xander pulled Buffy close, and they lay next to each other on the bed. They wrapped themselves around each other, entangling their legs and arms together. Buffy rested her head against his chest and listened to the thumping of his heart. Xander laid his head against the top of hers, enjoying the feel of her silky hair against his skin and the honeysuckle scent she always carried with her.

The knock came again. "Come on, guys. It's time."

"We'll meet you down there," Buffy replied.

There was a pause, and then Joyce said, "All right. Hurry."

Buffy and Xander didn't move for a minute or two, then they reluctantly broke apart. "I'm going to miss being with you," Buffy told him, but she knew she had to be strong. Glancing down at the ring on her finger, she knew she could be strong, for him. "But we'll get through this."

"We will," Xander promised. "And when I get home, we'll be together always."

"We can start planning for the future," Buffy said optimistically.

"Our future," Xander agreed. He stood up and picked up some of her bags. "Shall we?"

She nodded, picking up her carry on, and they went downstairs.

Heathrow Airport

At the airport, the travelers and their companions were quiet during check in. They were almost late, so when they got through the metal detectors and to the gate, the flight was already boarding.

Giles and Joyce stepped aside, saying a private good bye of their own. Buffy and Xander paid little attention to them. Their world had narrowed until it only included each other.

Buffy gazed into his eye, memorizing them. Xander did the same, running his eyes over her from top to bottom.

"I'll email you when I get back to the dorm," Xander promised.

"I'll read it as soon as I get home," Buffy swore.

"When you get there, it will be yesterday."

"If only time travel were so easy." Buffy sighed. "What I wouldn't give to live yesterday over again." She knew she was misinterpreting what he had said about the time differences, but she had to say it.

Xander took her hand. "Don't worry about it. That's all done. And, despite everything, I'd call this weekend perfect."

Buffy smiled, though it was a little teary. "I would, too. Any time with you is perfect."

They hugged one last time, and then it was time to board. Buffy gave Giles a quick hug, and then followed her mother onto the plane. Xander watched them go, remembering the first time they had done this. It seemed so long ago -- in reality only a few months had passed, but it felt like a whole life time.

He watched as the plane taxied away.

Giles waited quietly, also watching. Finally, he said, "Are you ready to go?"

Xander gave the disappearing tail lights of the plane one last look. "Yeah."

They started walking to their car. "So, Giles, how was your time with Joyce?"

Giles smiled a little bit. "It was interesting."

Author’s Note: The original plan for our Buffyverse was to have Giles and Joyce get together. The first steps to their romance were to take place when they were thrown together while Buffy and Xander were doing their own thing during this story. However, that story never got written, so just know that it happened. However, Giles and Joyce never went public or anything like that.

Part 7: Coven Material

Booksellers

"Hey."

Amy jumped and dropped the calendar. It fell to the floor with the rattling of pages. When she saw who it was, she glowered at him. "Don't ever sneak up on me like that again, Rio!"

"It's not my fault you were oblivious to the world," Rio replied, joining her behind the counter and picking up the calendar. "What's so engrossing about this thing anyway?" He turned it to the appropriate page and hung it back on the wall. The picture of a grinning Jack O' Lantern stared out at them.

Amy shuddered and turned away. "Bad memories."

"Had a bad Halloween experience?" Rio probed. "What, didn't get invited to the cool costume party? Had to dress up as a wicked step sister rather than Cinderella?"

"You don't know what you're talking about, so shut up!" Amy turned away and started sorting a box of new books that had just come in. "If you're here to work, why don't you help me with these. Aidan won't be happy if he gets back and they're not on the shelves."

Rio reached around her and grabbed a stack of books. "I'm not working today, actually, but since you asked me so nicely, sure, I'll help."

Amy shook her head. "Whatever."

Actually, Amy liked Rio pretty well. She wouldn't consider them extremely close or anything, but after training in witchcraft together for months under the tutelage of Jenny Calendar, she figured she knew him as well as anyone in Sunnydale. Except his old commander, Faith, of course. Rio didn't talk very much. Amy had always wondered what his life was like before he joined the Council and practically sold his soul. She thought that he must have been a good person before them. He was turning into one now, staying in Sunnydale to repay his debt to society, so to speak. It was a good thing. When he wasn't grabbing on to an uncomfortable subject like a bulldog with a steak bone.

When she got to the science fiction/fantasy section, she stopped and started shelving the new paperbacks. Rio fell in line next to her and started doing the same thing.

They worked in silence for a minute or two, and then he asked, "Amy, is everything OK?"

"It would be stellar if you didn't keep bugging me!" Amy exploded. "Why are you here, anyway? It's not like I need your help!"

Rio looked at her for a minute, then set his pile of books down and turned away. "I'll be in the back. When Jenny gets here, let me know." Then he walked away.

Amy groaned and slapped herself lightly on the forehead with one of the paperbacks. She'd forgotten. Jenny was coming by to give them a quick lesson today because she needed time off tomorrow night, Halloween night. Amy put down her books and hurried after Rio. She caught up with him near the front of the otherwise empty book store. When he saw her, his face froze. She hadn't seen him this angry since before he joined their team. She felt a shiver, remembering the time she'd been at his mercy, when she'd been kidnapped by his group as bait to lure Faith and Angel to the slaughter. But Amy pressed on despite her memories. She knew it wasn't fair to hold the past against him.

"Rio, I'm sorry I yelled at you. You just... you touched on a sticky subject, and I didn't want to talk about it."

His face thawed out, and he nodded. "I can tell, but I accept your apology."

Amy could tell Rio was still curious about the Halloween thing, but, to his credit, he didn't press the issue. Giving him a tentative smile, Amy suggested, "Why don't you come help me with the books, and, if you really want to know... I... I'll tell you about my Halloween phobia."

A few seconds later, they were companionably shelving books in the sci-fi section again. Rio didn't say anything. He waited for her to speak, if she was going to.

Amy swallowed nervously. She didn't like talking about this part of her past. It made her feel more scared and vulnerable than at any other time in her life. But she decided to do it anyway. And maybe talking about it would help.

"All the worst things that ever happened to me happened on Halloween. My first boyfriend dumped me at the school Halloween carnival. It was Halloween the day my dad moved out and left me with my mother. I've told you a little about my mom, right?"

Rio nodded.

"Well the day I woke up in her body, it was Halloween. I think that helped increase her powers for the switch or something."

"No wonder you have a phobia. That's quite a string of bad luck."

She smiled wryly. "There's more, but it takes more time to explain. After my mom almost killed me, Giles and Sonya, I vowed that I would never turn out like her. I thought it was the magic that did it. I thought it had corrupted her. So I decided never to use it. And I didn't develop any of my powers once she was gone. Even though I knew they were there."

Amy shivered a little at the memory. It had been a weird feeling to have powers she didn't understand and couldn't control inside of her. But she had just pushed them away and ignored them. She glanced over at Rio, sure a long-time magic-user like him would think her actions had been silly and stupid. But there was nothing of the sort in his face. Just interest and sympathy.

"It's hard to realize someone you love isn't perfect."

For a second, Amy wondered what had happened to him, but she couldn't ask. It was time for her story now.

"Yeah." She paused, tucking a strand of long, blonde hair behind her ear. "So... things went OK for a while. I managed not to use my powers at all. I locked them up inside of myself and pretended everything was normal. And then one day two vampires kidnapped me, and nothing was ever the same again. Not only were there witches like my mother in the world, but there was a whole host of dark things, and I was at their mercy."

"That day?" Rio raised a questioning, dark eyebrow. "It was Halloween?"

Amy nodded. "They got me when I was shopping for a Halloween costume. They drug me down to this lair that was scarcely better than a hole in the ground. They tied me up, and they told me I was going to be the guinea pig in their ritual. One vampire, called Spike, he wanted to bring his dead lover back. Angel had killed her. Anyway, they were going to use my body. They were going to change me into a vampire and then put this dead vamp's soul in my body."

She glanced up again, and saw him staring at her with wide eyes. "You were going to be the host for Drusilla's body? The long-time paramour of William the Bloody? I studied them at the Compound. They were ruthless."

"Ruthless all right. I was scared beyond anything I've ever felt before or since. At least when my mother took over my body, I had her body. This time I wasn't going to have anything. I was just going to poof away and my body would walk around with someone else in it. I tried to fight them, but I didn't know anything."

"You'd been blocking your powers."

She shook her head decisively. "Yes, I had. And now they couldn't help me. Spike, his goons and that horrible little spell caster could have done anything they wanted with me, and I couldn't have lifted a finger to stop them. Luckily, that spell caster betrayed Spike and set a Chaos demon loose on the town. Doubly lucky, Xander came along in time to free me."

"I hesitate to ask, but is there any more?"

Amy managed a smile to ease his mind. "No. That's it. For now." Her eye darted in the direction of the calendar on the other side of the store. She couldn't see it from where they sat on the floor of the sci-fi section, but she knew it was there. It was like that Jack 'O Lantern had its flaming eyes on her constantly. "But all I ever want to do now on Halloween is lock myself in my room with a plate of brownies and a shotgun. Not that I have a shotgun, but it might come in handy."

Rio put the last book on the shelf and helped Amy to her feet. "How about I make you a promise?"

She gave him a curious look. "What kind of a promise?"

"Let me come over to your place on Halloween. Jenny's already busy with her techno-pagan gathering, so we won't have any lessons. They won't need us to patrol because it's supposed to be a light night. I'll sit up with you and make sure nothing bad happens."

Amy looked at Rio in surprise. That was one of the longest speeches she'd ever heard him make that wasn't about magic. And it was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever offered to do for her. "You know, Rio, that would actually be really nice. My dad is going out of town on a business trip, so the company would be great. I thought about calling Buffy, but now I won't have to. She was doing the whole giving out candy thing with her mom anyway."

The bell on the shop door tinkled again and they heard the familiar voices of Jenny and Aidan as their two mentors entered the shop. Rio turned to meet them without saying anything more, and Amy followed along a step behind.

Aidan & Co.’s House

Aidan was already home when Rio got there later that afternoon. Rio walked in the door in his usual quiet way and began moving through the house to see what everyone was up to. It was just a thing he did. Something to kill time before he went into his room for the evening.

It was hard for Rio, living in this house. Aidan was an all right guy, but busy with other stuff, not much time for a quiet warlock living within his walls. Sonya, too, was OK when she set her mind to it. But for the past few months she'd been wrapped up in honeymoon land with new beaux Oz. She didn't even fight seriously with Faith any more. It was like Sonya was coated in a barrier of love and nothing Faith said could get to her. Rio wished he had that luxury. Faith always got to him. Sure they had a truce, but he knew Faith, and he knew she thought he was lower than the slime on the bottom of a Paranoia demon's tentacles.

He hadn't gotten too far into the house when the doorbell rang. "I guess I'll get it," he muttered, turning to open the door.

"Hey, man! How's it goin'?"

Rio stood back to let the Irish half-demon on the doorstep inside. "Doyle."

Doyle gave Rio a look like he had been expecting a longer answer, but got over it quickly. His good-natured outlook on life didn't let him stay down for long. Rio sometimes thought there were dark things inside Doyle, darker even than the visions of evil he got from the Powers that Be. However, Doyle seemed good at avoiding the thought of bad things in his life, or his past, whatever. At least when Rio was around.

"So, where's Aidan?" Doyle grinned a little. "I've gotta surprise for him."

Just then they all heard a loud yell and a crash.

Doyle and Rio ran toward Aidan's study to see what was going on. They found Aidan glaring down at Faith. A lamp was on the floor, obviously broken. Rio knelt down and picked up the math book that had been the culprit.

"That's it!" Faith raged. "You suck as a tutor. I'm never going to get this binomial equation sh.... stuff! I quit. I quit math! I quit school! I quit!"

"Now, Faith," Aidan tried, "you promised..."

"I promised I'd give school a try. I did that. It sucks! I quit!"

During this conversation, Doyle had taken the math book out of Rio's hands and flipped it open to the appropriate page. After perusing the example problems, he looked at the pad of paper on the table full of Aidan's precise handwriting.

"Faith," Aidan said in a stronger tone, "I'm not going to let you quit that easily."

"Who asked you?" Faith retorted.

"Aidan, man," Doyle spoke up suddenly. "You know, you were explainin' this all wrong. No wonder the lass is confused."

Aidan glared at Doyle. "Oh yeah, professor? Do you think you could do better?"

"O' course, I could. I am trained in tha teachin' arts." His sharp eyes grabbed Faith's defiant gaze and held it captive. "O' course, I have ta have a sharp pupil. I won't do it fer a coward."

Faith jumped to her feet and grabbed his collar. "Who are you calling a coward you pansy-assed, little..."

Aidan looked like he was going to intervene, but Doyle did first. "Who are ye calling pansy-assed, lass? I'm not tha one who lets binomial equations win where demons and vampires lose all the time."

She stared at him for a minute. Rio held his breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion, but it didn't come.

"Fine. You've got one chance." She sat back down at the desk and waited, the look on her face daring Doyle to teach her.

Aidan took that moment to leave. He grabbed Rio's shoulder and guided him out, too.

"What about the mess?" Rio whispered, gesturing to the broken lamp bits coating the floor, making their footsteps crunch.

"It can wait," Aidan answered out in the hall. As he shut the door behind them, he added, "If Doyle can make that girl learn, all the broken lamps in the world wouldn't make me interrupt them."

Amy’s House

True to her word, on Halloween day, Amy sat in her house quietly. She watched a couple of old movies, did all her homework, and read half of Wuthering Heights -- her favorite book. Something about the romance of the Moors got to her every time, and the idea of dying without one's true love, well, it made her long for a love that strong. Before she could get weepy and melancholy at the way love had turned out for her thus far, Amy put the book away and looked for something else to do.

She couldn't practice any spells, that was for certain. Amy wasn't about to flirt with disaster that seriously. She could only be glad that supernatural activity didn't require her to patrol with Buffy or anyone that evening. Amy figured she was actually helping Buffy by staying in. When Amy went out on Halloween, as the vampire kidnapping had shown, strange things happened.

As the shadows got longer and the clock ticked on, Amy wondered when Rio would get there. Her father was out of town on a business trip, so she was rattling around all alone in their big, old house.

Part of Amy wondered why Rio had even volunteered to come over. He wasn't the gallant type. He seemed to feel above that most of the time.

But he had volunteered, and Amy was glad. She did wonder what they would do when he got there. Then she got a brilliant idea...

Outside Amy’s House

Rio found Amy's house easily enough. He had never been there before, but the gargoyle-encrusted gate made the large house hard to miss.

He walked up the sidewalk to the front door, suddenly unsure of himself. What was he doing here? He barely knew Amy. Why did he want to help her? Going out of his way for someone was not something Rio indulged in any more. But he'd promised, and one of the things Rio had determined when rebuilding his life post-Watchers was that he would always be a man of his word.

And, honestly, Rio was also glad for a chance to get out of the house. Aidan was having too much fun with the Halloween thing. Aidan, Sonya, Oz and Doyle were doing the traditional scare the trick-or-treaters thing. Faith had vanished -- Aidan assumed for some quality time with her undead lover. The thought of that still gave Rio mild heebie-jeebies, but it was none of his business. Rio had heard tell that Buffy and Joyce were doing the Halloween thing at home, and that Cordelia was going to a party held by one of her elite crowd, but he hadn't paid too much attention.

The porch light at the Madison house wasn't on when he got there. Apparently, Amy's Halloween phobia didn't allow her to do the trick-or-treat candy dispensing thing. Rio didn't mind. Aidan and the others had been so enthused about it (though, perhaps, they were really just enthused about the night off) that Rio had been glad to get out of the way.

Rio reached out and touched the old-fashioned doorbell. A deep ringing echoed in the house. He heard Amy's light footsteps immediately.

She opened the door and smiled shyly at him. "Hi." She opened the door wider and Rio stepped inside. They seldom, if ever, said the words "come in." Sort of a last-ditch, vampire security measure.

"Hey."

Amy closed the door behind him, and started walking down the hall, gesturing for him to follow. Rio did. He looked around and noted the expense of the furnishings in her house. The run under their feet had to be Oriental, and all the furniture screamed antique. However, the house wasn't stiff or uncomfortable. Somehow it blended expense with comfort with an appealing result.

Rio stopped in the doorway when they got to the kitchen. The cheery yellow cabinets made it feel like morning in there, even though it was nowhere near that time.

"I love yellow," Amy told him. "I painted this room myself after my mom... after they took her away to the sanitarium." She covered the hitch in her voice relatively well, and then turned to the table. "I got all the stuff ready."

"Stuff for what? A spell?" Rio walked over and looked with interest.

"No... not a spell." Amy held out a recipe card for him to see. "Brownies."

"Oh."

Amy pointed him to a chair and gave him the pecans to chop. He did so quietly, but seemed ill-at-ease in the kitchen. Amy felt uneasy, too, and wondered why things were suddenly so awkward. She added eggs to the mixture in her bowl, and they cooked in silence for a few minutes.

Finally, Amy couldn't take it anymore. She reached into the flour jar, pulled out a small handful of the white stuff and flung it on Rio.

"Hey!" He stared at her, surprise and anger warring on his face.

Amy couldn't help but giggle. "Gocha."

Rio sat there in disbelief for a moment longer, and then he gave her a knowing look. "All right, Amy, you're going to regret that." He gestured down to the white streaks on his black shirt. "This was my favorite shirt."

"Uh-huh, I'm sure," Amy said, nodding. "I think you're just making that up." She flung another pinch of flour at him, and this one landed in his hair, making part of it in the middle white against the deep, natural black of the rest of it. Skunk images came to mind, and Amy laughed louder.

"That's it!" Rio confiscated the flour container and threw some back in her direction. It landed right in her face. Amy started coughing.

Rio set the flour jar down and moved over next to her, concern in his eyes. "I'm sorry... I didn't meant..."

Suddenly, Amy stopped coughing, grabbed the jar and dumped flour on his head.

That was the beginning of a full-scale kitchen war. No holds barred. They flung everything they could find, from flour to sugar to even eggs and water. Only the brownie batter was saved.

Ten minutes later, they finally called a truce, panting for breath between shouts and laughter. Even Rio had laughed, to Amy's delight. She'd never seen him so natural, or enjoying himself at all.

She bit her lip as she stared around the incredible mess that used to be her cheerful, yellow kitchen. "This is going to take forever to clean up."

Rio nodded. "Yeah, and while you're doing that, just remember, I didn't start this."

"You're not going to help?" Amy demanded. "I may have started it, but I didn't throw an egg, and then miss!" Her gaze turned to the window over the sink, now streaked with yolk and egg shells.

"All right, I guess I do bear some responsibility..." Rio agreed. He held out his hands. "Come here. I know a spell that will fix this all up, but I need your help to do it."

Amy's smile vanished and she gave him a look of horror. "Are you kidding? We can't do a spell on Halloween. It will probably backfire and then we'll both die in flames or something."

"Amy," Rio said gently, "I know you're scared of Halloween, and I can understand why. A lot of bad things have happened to you on Halloween, but it's not the day's fault. It's not magic's fault either."

"Then what was it? Bad luck?"

"Maybe."

"Then tempting the bad luck by doing magic now seems like a bad idea to me." Amy crossed her flour-coated arms across her chest.

Rio turned on the sink and held two paper towels under the stream of cool water. He used one to wipe the residue from his face and hands and then held the other out toward Amy. To his surprise, she didn't pull away. Instead, she let him gently wipe her face clean of the flour which had started to become a paste on her skin.

"Look," Rio said as he turned to put the dirty paper towels in the trash can. "I think you need to do this. What if something happens on a Halloween, and it's life and death, and you have to use your powers. I know you, Amy. You wouldn't want to let people down. But if you've never done it before, you might let them down anyway. This is a good first step."

Amy sighed. "I don't want to." But she uncrossed her arms and put her hands in his.

Rio took her gesture of acceptance, and closed his eyes. He focused on the dirty kitchen in his mind's eye. He took control of their joined powers easily. They had practiced combining forces several times during their lessons with Jenny. Rio whispered a few words in an ancient form of French and what looked like a ripple or a wave radiated out from them and flowed around the entire room. When they broke apart, everything was clean -- the floor, the table, the counters, even themselves.

"Wow," Amy remarked, looking around in amazement. "That's some spell." She turned to give him a happy smile. "And nothing went wrong. I guess that now I have to say you told me so..." Her voice trailed off when Rio wouldn't look at her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" His voice grated harshly.

Amy walked around until she could see his face. His cheeks were wet from tears. He scrubbed them off quickly and turned away from Amy again.

She reached out and touched his shoulder. He didn't respond, but he didn't shake her hand off.

"What's wrong, Rio?" she asked again. "Are you hurt? The spell did screw up, didn't it! What can I do to help? Are you hurt?" One of the risks of magic was what it could do to the user inside, when you were distracted by controlling the outer effects of the spell. Amy started to get very scared.

"I hurt, but there's nothing you can do about it."

"What are you talking about? I know healing spells..."

"It's not the kind of pain you can just zap away."

Suddenly, Amy knew Rio was talking about something more emotional. She guided him over to the kitchen table. One side was a bench, built into the wall. She sat down sideways, sitting on one leg, so she had a good view of his profile. She pulled him down after her. "Tell me."

He shook his head. "It was just the French. French always does that to me."

Amy's brow furrowed. "French?" She couldn't think of any reason French would upset him. It was just a language... unless... "Nicole was French. Is that it? Was there...?"

Rio looked over at her, grief etching long lines in his narrow face. "Nicole was French. She taught me to speak French."

"You and she were...?"

"Lovers," Rio confirmed. "Yes. It started before she had the procedure done. We didn't know, back then, what it would do. And once we found out... I promised her I would find a way to reverse it. I promised her."

"So it wasn't just the blood oath..." Amy flashed back to that time in the warehouse. The blood of a potential Slayer. The commandos had set a trap for Faith to get it for Terrance and Nicole, but he had failed. Nicole had died. She burned up from the inside because she didn't get to feed. Having the pyrotechnic powers of a demon put in her body caused her to need the life force from others to survive.

"Not just the blood oath," Rio confirmed. "Or, rather, if my ancestor hadn't made that blood oath, I still would have been bound to that group." He paused, his throat tightening. He expected to see condemnation on Amy's face, but when he took a peek, there wasn't any. She was just listening. Somehow that made it easier to talk about the secret he'd been keeping for months.

"Nicole was different than Terrance. He liked the killing. Demon, human, it didn't really matter to him. Nicole... she would put it off as long as possible. When she could, she would feed off the guilty. She would find thieves and that ilk loitering around at night... but it was still killing." Rio looked up and met Amy's eyes. "I wanted to find the cure for her. I didn't want to hurt Faith, but I had to save her. And I was bound to do what Terrance wanted." He shook his head. "It's like a nightmare now, those days. My emotions were so high all the time. I didn't know what to do. Or what I could do. I just knew what I had to do. I tried to block everything else out. And then when it was over, when Nicole was gone and Terrance... Everything came back to me so clearly. Every life I'd helped them take. I've got a double debt to repay. Mine and hers."

"But..." Amy wasn't quite sure how to phrase her question so it sounded tactful, but she plunged ahead anyway. "That day in the library, you didn't seem to care one way or another about Nicole. You were so diffident."

"What would you have done in my situation? Admitted you loved one of the 'bad guys'? Not a wise choice, especially with Faith ready to murder me where I stood in retribution. I saved my grief for a more private time and place."

Amy reached out and touched his long, slender-fingered hand with her own. "I'm really sorry, Rio. I wish I could do something..."

"You have."

Amy looked at him in surprised. She was more surprised to see the depths in his dark eyes.

"You and Buffy were the first to really accept me. I will always remember that."

"But I didn't..."

Rio nodded. "You did. At least, you didn't make me feel uncomfortable all the time. You didn't refer to the past. You tried to make me feel at home. We didn't bond right away, sure, but, I don't do bonding."

Amy smiled softly. "I hate to break it to you, bud, but this... this is bonding."

A faint smile crossed his lips. "Maybe it is."

A loud buzzing interrupted their tete-a-tete. Amy jumped and practically pushed Rio out of the booth.

"What is it?" Rio asked as Amy ran over to the stove.

"The oven's done pre-heating," Amy explained. "We can put the brownies in now."

"Oh." Rio did his best to help. He held the pan as Amy poured the batter in, and opened the oven door for her so she could slid the gooey mess inside. But he just didn't get what the importance was. Finally he asked her.

Amy gave him an incredulous look. "Have you never had brownies before?"

"No." Rio shook his head.

Amy grinned. "Well, then, ask me that question again after you taste one. It should be self-explanatory, though."

Amy’s Kitchen

"What was that?" Amy couldn't help laughing at the blissful expression on Rio's face as he took another bite of the still-warm-from-the-oven, perfectly-gooey brownie.

After swallowing, Rio repeated himself. "I said, this is the best thing I've ever eaten. I didn't know you could do this to chocolate."

"Your family wasn't the brownie-baking kind?" Amy asked.

Rio shook his head. "A bit too preoccupied with magic for that. And also preoccupied with health. We ate a lot of vegetables."

"Poor you." Amy offered him the knife she'd used to cut the first brownies. Rio had already finished his generous square. "Feel free to have another."

"Thank you, I think I will."

Later that evening, Rio sat on the couch in Amy's living room. The TV was on, but he wasn't really paying attention to it. They had eaten brownies until they couldn't stand any more. Then they had gone into what Amy termed "veggie mode" and watched movies until she fell asleep.

He glanced over at Amy. She was curled up on the other end of the couch, breathing in and out peacefully. One would never know by looking at her that a few hours before she had been deathly afraid that she wouldn't live out the day.

The clock on the mantle began to chime. Rio felt a bit of relief when he heard the twelfth chime.

He moved over next to Amy and gently shook her shoulder. "Amy. Wake up."

Amy mumbled something unintelligible and then opened her eyes. They widened dramatically when she looked at him and she shot into a sitting position. "What is it? Did the house fall in? Did a vamp come knocking at the door? What?"

"I just wanted to tell you that it's all over." Rio pointed at the clock. "It's midnight. Halloween is over."

Amy sat back and stared at the clock. "It's over. Halloween is over and nothing bad happened to me."

"Well..." Rio shrugged. "You did have to put up with me for six hours. Some would say that was punishment enough." He unfolded his lanky limbs and rose to a standing position. "Now, though, I'd better be going."

Amy hurried to stand, too, and walked him to the door. "Rio, I... I just wanted to say thank you for staying here with me tonight. I can't believe it, but I actually had fun."

"I don't believe it either," Rio said sarcastically.

"You're not such a bad guy to hang out with," Amy told him. "And if you ever want to do this again when it's not Halloween, well, we could." She shrugged. "I mean, if you want to get out of the house when Aidan and Buffy are training, or when Sonya and Oz are making out, or when Faith is giving you crap."

"Or when I just want to spend time with my friend."

Amy looked up, surprised. "Really?"

"Really."

Rio leaned down and gave Amy a quick hug. It didn't last very long. It had been a long time since Rio had hugged anyone, and it felt strange. But it was also nice. It was nice to have a real friend again, and, Rio realized, that was exactly what Amy was.

He turned to go.

"Rio?"

"Yes?" He turned back, standing in the threshold. The half-moon shone down, illuminating his face.

"It was a good night. Thank you. For everything." She knew she had said it before, but she wanted to make sure Rio knew how much she appreciated what he had done.

"Thank you, too, Amy." He lingered for a second, unused to actually having a place he felt reluctant to leave. "Good night." He started walking down the side walk.

"Good night," Amy called. "And be careful out there. Don't let anything get you. And... give me a call to make sure you got home all right."

"I will," Rio promised. He walked out of the gate with a small smile on his lips. Amy was the first person in Sunnydale who'd cared so much that he got home all right that she asked him to call. It was a nice feeling.

Part 8: Winter Wonderland

The Summers Residence

"Deck the halls with boughs of holly, tra la la la la, la la, la, la... Tis..."

"Um, Mom?"

Joyce stopped singing and looked down at her daughter Buffy from the top of a step ladder. "Yes, dear?"

"I think it's fa."

"Excuse me?" Joyce stretched over to put the angel on the top of the Christmas tree. It was a family heirloom, sort of. Her mother had bought it for Joyce's first Christmas, and given it to Joyce for Buffy's first Christmas. The little angel had blonde hair, like the two Summers women, and held a tiny, blue cross in her small hands. A set of gauzy wings adorned the angel's back, giving the tree a proper crowning.

"The song," Buffy clarified. "It's fa la la la la, not tra la la la la."

"Really? I've always said tra..."

Maybe it was a tiny earthquake, or a default in the ladder. Or, perhaps, it was the shock of finding out she'd been singing the beloved Christmas carol wrong all these years. But, somehow, the ladder tipped and Joyce started to fall.

"Mom!" Buffy reacted as quickly as her Slayer instincts would allow. From where she was standing, there was no way she could get there in time to catch her mother, but she could do something else.

Buffy launched herself into the easy chair she had been standing next to. The chair moved easily enough, for her anyway, and Buffy slid it into the couch. With extra oomph, the couch moved enough so that Joyce fell on it instead of the floor. But the couch kept going after Buffy straightened up. It was as if, once freed from its motionless state, the sofa didn't want to stop. It hit the tree, and the big evergreen started to wobble.

Joyce had her eyes closed in anticipation of hitting the floor. She opened them in time to see the tree plummeting toward her face. Buffy jumped the coffee table and grabbed the tree. It didn't hit Joyce's face, but there was a crash as the tiny angel slid off the top of the tree and hit the floor. It shattered into several pieces.

"Oh, no!" Buffy cried. Joyce moved and Buffy dropped the tree. Pine needles showered over the couch, but the mother and daughter didn't care. They hurried to the angel and started picking up the pieces.

"It's not so bad," Joyce said, putting on a brave face.

Buffy started to cry. Joyce hurried to put the pieces on the desk and then went to give Buffy a big hug. "Sweetie, don't cry. It will be all right."

"I broke the angel! And the tree!" Buffy opened her eyes and stared at the mess that was their living room. "Look at this place..."

"But you saved me," Joyce told her daughter firmly. "Thank you, Buffy."

Buffy's tears slowed, but did not stop completely. "It won't be Christmas without the angel..."

"It's just a thing, Buffy. A special thing, yes, but just a thing. Besides, if you have to feel badly about it, blame me instead. I'm the one who fell off the ladder and started this whole mess. I'm just lucky you were here to save me from breaking my foot, or worse."

Buffy allowed herself to be consoled a little by her mother's words, but she still couldn't quite stop crying. Joyce went into mother-mode instantly.

"What else is bothering you, honey."

"Xander."

Joyce looked at her daughter with concern. "What happened? Is he hurt?"

Buffy shook her head. "He can't come. By the time Giles got the Council to approve the money for the tickets, the flights were all sold out."

"You knew it was a long shot." Joyce rubbed Buffy's back in a soothing motion. "Convincing the Board of Directors that the trip had business aspects was iffy at best. But at least they tried."

"I know." Buffy leaned into her mother's shoulder and let the comforting smell of Joyce's perfume surround her. "But I just wanted it to happen so badly. Normally, I'm OK with us being apart. We've been apart for so long, that, scarily enough, I'm almost getting used to it. But when Xander wrote and said this might happen, I guess I just decided in my head that it would happen."

"And it hurt that much more when it didn't." Joyce nodded with understanding. This was the first she'd heard of the cancelled plans, so she felt the sting of regret as well. She didn't want to burden Buffy with it, though. The girl didn't need any more problems to think about. "Well, how about this. I was going to save it for Christmas, but..." Joyce hopped up and walked over to her desk. She pulled out a white envelope and handed it to Buffy. "Early Merry Christmas."

Buffy opened the envelope without much enthusiasm. Inside she found a long-distance calling card.

"That's good for a whole hour's worth of trans-Atlantic calling. You can use it to call him on Christmas!"

Buffy summoned up a wan smile for her mother's benefit. "Thanks, Mom. It's great, really." She stood up. "I think I'm going to go upstairs for a little while, OK? I'll help you clean up this mess after dinner."

"It's fine," Joyce said. "Go on. I'll call you when my famous chilli's done cooking."

Buffy started to walk out of the room and paused by the desk. She picked up the the little angel's fractured head and gave it a small kiss. "Merry Christmas, angel," she whispered.

Joyce watched her go, and knew that she was going to have to make an extra-effort for Christmas this year.

Aidan & Co.’s House

"Oz..." Sonya gasped and giggled a little, shivering in pleasure as Oz nibbled on her neck.

"You like?" He raised his head and smiled at her.

"I like!" she affirmed whole-heartedly.

"Good." Oz leaned down and started nibbling again. As his wandering teeth made their way up to her earlobe, Sonya moaned a little.

Then the phone rang. Oz pulled back.

"Ignore it," Sonya whispered, stretching her hand along the back of the couch in a luxurious gesture.

The phone rang again.

"You sure?" Oz asked. "It might be something important. Faith and Angel might have found something out on patrol."

"Then they'd call Buffy."

"Maybe Buffy and her mom are still at the Christmas tree farm."

The phone rang a third time.

"Oh, fine! I'll get it." Sonya gave Oz a small smile to show that she didn't mean her words in a harsh way. Then she reached over the arm of the sofa and picked up the phone during the fourth ring. "Hello? Oh, hi, Joyce. What's wrong?"

Oz went from relaxed to attentive in a mere second. When something was wrong in Sunnydale, you learned to react fast. Especially when one of your best friends was a Slayer, your girlfriend was a former Slayer and her roommate was a potential Slayer.

Sonya murmured a few yesses, and then said, "Yes, I'll spread the word. Don't worry. We're on top of this one." Then she said good night and hung up the phone.

"What happened?" Oz asked.

Sonya stroked his rigid arm. "Nothing life threatening. Just heartache."

"The plane ticket money didn't come through, did it?"

Sonya shook her head. "It did, but they can't get a flight out now. It was too late when they got the OK from the alchemist penny-pinchers."

"Buffy must be bummed."

"That's what Joyce said. But Joyce has a plan. She needs our help. All of us."

"Let's call in the troops."

A Park

Patrol was slow that night. It was like all the ghosties, goulies and li'l vampires had taken the holidays off this year.

"So." Angel turned to look at Faith. "What do you want to do now?"

A half-smile curved her lips. "Well, there's always shuffle board." She sat down on a swing in the park. The park had been their last patrol stop for the night.

Angel reached around the chains, encircling Faith and the swing. The he started to back up. "Yeah, I'm always up for a good game of shuffle board." He leaned down and rubbed his cheek against hers. Faith closed her eyes. Then he let go of the swing and his presence was gone.

"Loser." Faith jumped off the swing and glared at him.

Angel glared right back. "Wench."

"Ooo... bet you haven't used that line in a couple hundred years!"

Angel just knew he was about to come up with a really good come back line, when a buzzing noise from his pocket made him jump. He pulled out a black, vibrating rectangle and looked at it with horror. "I hate these cellular things. I just know..."

"An evil warlock invented them, yeah, you told me," Faith finished for him.

Ignoring her, Angel just hit the green button on the phone Aidan had forced upon him, and said, "Hello?"

After a few minutes, Angel hung up and looked out at the deserted playground.

"Who was it?" Faith asked, sauntering closer. She didn't think it was anything too bad since Angel was standing still, not running to save someone.

"It was Sonya. Buffy is... desolate."

"Again?" Faith placed a hand on her black-clad hip. "What's new?"

"What's new is that this that suddenly she can't spend Christmas with the love of her life!" Angel turned away from Faith. "I can't expect you to understand that, but I do."

Faith's eyes narrowed on his face. She felt a funny flutter in her heart at the expression on his face. She pushed it away. She and Angel were just... friends. Friends with certain extra-curricular benefits. Who he had loved in the past (still loved? No!) didn't concern her.

"So, what's the plan?" she asked. "Group meeting to decide how to help the precious Slayer?"

"We're meeting at your house now to make plans for tomorrow night."

"Christmas Eve. How perfect. How... precious." Faith turned away. "You can count me out. Have fun with your Slayer."

"She's not my Slayer," Angel said, but Faith was beyond the point of caring or listening. Angel almost followed her out of the park, but he knew Faith. She didn't want him to do that. She always hated it when he forced her to talk about what was bugging her, even when it turned out all right, the process was painful for them both. And right now there was someone out there who would actually be appreciative of his help. He turned and walked off in the opposite direction.

Booksellers

Booksellers was closing down for the night. It hadn't been a particularly customer-filled evening, which was actually good since two of the primary salespeople had been in the back practicing magic for most of their shift. Aidan had closed up shop early, and then spent the rest of the evening stocking inventory, straightening up and listening in on the magic session Jenny, Amy and Rio were having in the back room. The back room at Booksellers was reserved for three things -- inventory, Slayer training and magic lessons.

"You guys about done?" Aidan asked when he went back there for the final time. "The front is set, and I'm ready to head for home."

"Sure, we can call it a night," Jenny agreed.

Amy and Rio made happy noises until Jenny added, "But you two still need to practice your transmogrification spells. You should each do so three times before our next lesson."

The phone rang just then, and Aidan picked up the extension in the back room. "Booksellers, we're closed."

"Good, because you need to come home A.S.A.P."

"Sonya, what's wrong?"

"We're having a meeting. Xander and Giles can't come. The flights are all booked. Joyce needs our help to get Buffy out of her doldrums. She says it's the worst since before they went to England. Oh, and bring Amy and them, if they're still there."

"I will." Aidan hung up and turned to the three witches. "Do you three have time for a meeting at my house?"

Cordelia’s House

"I can not believe I let you talk me into this, buster! Christmas break isn't supposed to be about studying!"

Doyle looked down at the brunette bombshell with mock surprise. "Me talk ye inta somethin'? I doubt that's possible. Yer tha one who needed help to pass that Chemistry exam scheduled for January 3rd. I didnae ask fer the extra tutorial job. Tutorin' Faith is enough."

Cordelia scowled at the Irish half-demon. She sat at the glass-topped kitchen table in her parents' house with her school books scattered around her. She'd given up a prime date to do this. Well, she amended to herself, not a prime date. Lindsey, now he was a prime date. She'd given up an OK date. And she really didn't want to flunk the Chemistry exam. It would bring down her whole average. As uncool as it was to care about her average, Cordelia actually did. If only she hadn't spent half of the last semester flirting with her lab partner, Percy-the-moron, she might not be this far behind.

"Whatever, professor!" Cordelia said aloud, using Faith's pet nickname for the teacher in the group. Granted, he taught elementary school, but Doyle knew how to get a point across. And he was actually really smart about school stuff. Even high school subjects. Not just anyone who could help Faith get a 'B' in math... And he was really nice about it, too. Not one of those people who yelled at you when you didn't understand.

The phone rang just then, pausing their argument. Cordelia pasted a smile on her face -- she fully believed that smiling on the phone made her sound happy and confident to whoever was on the other end, and she was still hoping that Lindsey would come back to town and look her up -- and chirped, "Hello?" Her smile vanished, and she handed the sleek cordless phone to Doyle. "It's for you."

"Thank 'ee kindly," Doyle replied. After a quick conversation, Doyle hung up the phone and put it on the table. It made a small clank against the glass. "I've got ta go. Somethin's come up."

"Something more important than me passing Chemistry?" Cordelia cried.

"As surprisin' as that is, yes." Doyle paused. "But, if ye wanted to, ye could come. If ye brought yer book, maybe we could get some more work done."

"Where would we be going?" Cordelia asked. "Not on another life-or-death mission, I hope. That wouldn't be very chemistry-friendly. Unless you were going to teach me how to build a bomb. But I don't want to know how to build a bomb, so now we're back at square one."

Doyle started at her a second, trying to wrap his mind around her circular logic pattern, then he said, "We're goin' to plan a Christmas Eve party to end all parties."

"Oh. I'm good with parties..." Cordelia paused, unsure if she should commit.

"That ye are, lass. An' yer welcome to come." Doyle was already putting on his black leather jacket.

Cordelia made a split second decision. Sonya had sounded worried on the other end of the line, and Cordelia had bonded with Sonya, Buffy and Amy at the mall that time. She would go. "All right, I'm in."

"Good." Doyle smiled and held her fashionable suede jacket so she could slip her arms into it. "Then let's go."

The Summers Residence

Buffy lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She tried to count her glow-in-the-dark stars, but she couldn't keep her mind on the task. It kept wandering across the ocean. What was Xander doing right now? Was he missing her? Was he in class? Was he hanging out with his friends? Were he and Giles doing Christmas-y things in Giles's apartment? It was probably already Christmas in London. She hadn't quite gotten the time difference down yet, but she did know that when it was evening in California, it was past midnight in London, if not later.

She knew her mother wanted her to come downstairs and put on a happy, Christmas face, but Buffy just couldn't summon up that kind of facade right now. She knew it was stupid and spoiled of her to ruin her mother's holiday like this, but somehow she couldn't seem to lighten up. It was as if all the cheeriness she'd forced or gained over the time Xander had been gone had just vanished. Was it because of Christmas? Buffy didn't know. She sighed and rolled onto her side. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.

"Rise and shine, sleepy-head!"

"Yeah, Joyce says you've been in bed all day!"

Buffy looked up to see Sonya and Amy standing in her doorway. The two girls walked in and plopped down on the bed next to her.

"What are you doing here?" Buffy asked.

"You'll have to come downstairs to see," Amy said mysteriously.

"I'm not in a real girl's night kind of mood," Buffy complained, but the other two girls wouldn't take no for an answer. Sonya grabbed Buffy's arms and hauled her into a sitting position.

"Ug," Amy muttered.

"What?" Buffy reached a hand up to her head and felt a wad of hair over her ear. Her hair always did that. It was so strange. "Oh. Funny bed hair. Oh well, it doesn't matter."

"It matters to me!" Amy exclaimed. She snapped her fingers, and Buffy's brush floated over from the dresser. Sonya, who had a better angle, took the brush and smoothed out the tangles.

"Neat trick," Sonya commented, as she put the brush back on the dresser the old fashioned way, using her feet to walk over there.

"Rio taught me the easiest levitation spell," Amy said, a smile lighting her face. "It isn't hard to remember, and it doesn't use a lot of power so it doesn't need a lot of control. Of course, it means I can't levitate big stuff, but that's OK. Rio calls it his couch-potato spell, you know, because you can use it to get another soda or the remote control without leaving your chair."

Buffy's gaze slid over to Amy. The Slayer got interested in the conversation in spite of her determination to stay in bed and mope all night. "You and Rio sure have been spending a lot of time together lately."

Amy wagged a finger at Buffy. "We're just friends. Don't go seeing romance where there isn't any."

Sonya exchanged a glance with Buffy. "I don't know, Buffy. Amy's been pretty quick to deny it. That's usually a telltale sign..."

"What is this, gang up on Amy night?" the blonde in question demanded. Amy stood up and went over to the door. "Come on. We've got to go downstairs."

"Why?" Buffy reluctantly allowed herself to be dragged to the door. She stopped long enough to trade her sleep shirt -- an old shirt of Xander's -- for jeans and the white sweater with silver sparkles on it that her mother had given her for Christmas last year. If she was going to go downstairs, she might as well do something that would make her mother happy. She glanced in the mirror and decided she didn't look completely horrible. Then she let Sonya and Amy drag her down into the living room.

The living room was dark when they got to the threshold. "That's strange," Buffy muttered. "I thought Mom was down here." She reached out for the light switch and flipped it.

Suddenly, light flooded the room from several different angles and a crowd of voices chorused, "Surprise!"

Buffy blinked and tried to take it all in. The living room had been decorated and turned into a Christmas paradise. The tree had been properly lighted and ornamented -- Buffy averted her eyes from the empty spot on top where the used to sit. Poinsettias were placed around in festive locations. Tinsel rimmed every possible surface. And under the tree were heaped piles of gifts in festive colored paper. But, best of all, were the faces smiling at her from all around the room. Jenny and Aidan were there, standing in the doorway to the dining room like they had just finished setting up whatever food was sending the wonderful aroma into the room. Oz grinned at her from a seat on the couch, and Sonya went over to her customary place next to him. Rio lurked next to the window, looking a bit uncomfortable. Angel was doing a bit of lurking himself next to the piano. Buffy could tell that neither guy was used to attending parties. Cordelia, in a bright red dress, stood next to the tree with a huge smile on her face. Her yell of "surprise" had been the most enthusiastic. Doyle stood near the stereo, and when he flipped a button, Christmas carols filtered into the room. Amy gave Buffy a hug and then slipped off to draw Rio fully into the room.

Lastly, Buffy turned to her mother. Joyce's smile was warm and loving, like it always was. "Merry Christmas Eve, honey."

"Happy Christmas Eve to you, too, Mom," Buffy replied, giving her mother a huge, grateful hug. Immediately she had known who was behind all this. It screamed Mom-idea, but Buffy thought it was wonderful. Leaning in so her mouth was next to Joyce's ear, Buffy whispered, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Joyce replied. "I'm just glad to see a smile on your face again. And you should be smiling at this time of year."

"I'm sorry if I've been a pill the past couple of days," Buffy said in a sincere tone. "I didn't mean to be..." Her gaze dimmed a little as the reason for her unhappiness reasserted itself in her mind, but somehow, with the presence of her mother and all her friends, Buffy found the strength to move on. That's what Xander would want her to do, anyway. He would never want her to mope around over him, especially when people cared about her enough to do something like this for her.

As she looked around, she felt the warmth of tears in her eyes. "I can't believe you guys did all this."

"It was no problem," Angel said with a shrug. His shoulder jostled one of Joyce's knick-knack cabinets and the little figurines rattled. Angel jumped back. Nothing fell, luckily, but he looked mortified.

"Yeah, it was all stuff we had lying about," Aidan said quickly, to divert everyone's attention from the near accident.

"I tell ye what," Doyle said suddenly. "I'm starvin'. I don't know about the rest o' ye."

Joyce laughed. She was well-used to Doyle's appetite. Since moving into their garage apartment, Doyle had eaten dinner at their house at least once a week. "All right, everyone, have at it. Everything's ready."

There was a mass exodus toward the dining room. If there was one thing teenagers flocked to, it was free food. Buffy hung back. When the room had emptied, she moved over to talk to Angel. Not needing to eat, he was the only other person who hadn't jumped toward the buffet when given the chance.

"Um... hey." Buffy stood stiffly. She was always unsure of herself around him for some reason. And when she caught him staring at her -- not so much anymore, but still occasionally -- it made her feel strange. She wrapped one arm around her stomach, and clutched at her shoulder with the other.

"Merry Christmas," Angel offered with a half-smile.

Buffy returned the expression and said, "To you, too."

"Thanks." Angel shoved his hands in the pockets of his black pants. His black trench coat had been taken hostage by Joyce and hung in the closet. Underneath it had been revealed a deep, maroon silk shirt.

Buffy nodded toward the colored fabric. "A nod to the holiday season?"

"Something like that." Angel shifted back and forth.

"I'm... I'm surprised you came," Buffy finally admitted. "I mean, we aren't... close."

"I wanted to." Angel looked up then, and something in his eyes took her breath away. She didn't know how to describe it, but there was so much feeling in them. Something she couldn't, or didn't want, to put a name to. It wasn't something that she wanted, but that didn't mean it wasn't there.

Readjusting her arms, Buffy stammered. "So, uh... where's Faith tonight."

Angel shrugged and the tense moment was broken. "I haven't seen her."

"You two seem to be... pretty close."

"Sometimes. Faith... she's a hard girl to be close to."

The ghost of a smile flickered across Buffy's lips. "I can imagine."

"Yeah." Angel's gaze turned toward the windows. Buffy couldn't see out of them because it was dark outside. She wondered what he was thinking about. His expression was intense again, but, now that it wasn't directed at her, she felt more compassionate about it.

"Is there something I could do? I could call her or something."

Angel shook his head. "Thanks, but no. She'll come if she wants to. Thus is her way."

Buffy nodded. "Well, I guess I'm going to go get some food."

"OK."

Buffy turned. Then she turned back for a second. "Angel. Thanks."

"For what?" He looked genuinely surprised. Something that didn't happen all that often.

"For being here all this time, for me, and for Xander." Her face softened, as it always did when she thought of him. "You've saved the lives of everyone here, practically. I... I admire you, Angel." She wanted to say more, to make that sad expression leave his face, but she somehow doubted that was in her power. If only she knew where Faith was, but that probably wasn't a good idea either. After a second of standing there speechless, Buffy turned and went into the dining room.

Angel watched her go.

"Bye, Buffy."

She had changed a lot since the first time he saw her, all those years ago on the steps of Hemry High School. She was more serious, more confident, and if possible, more alluring. Though, somehow, he didn't have quite the hankering for blondes that he used to.

After the yummy Christmas Eve buffet -- complete with fruit cake, egg nog (sans whiskey), and a cheese log, among lots of other tasty treats -- everyone moved back into the living room for what Doyle termed "the orgy of greed" -- gift giving time.

"How should we do this?" Aidan asked, glancing at the mound of packages under the tree. In honor of the occasion, everyone had brought their presents for each other to the Summers' tree this evening.

"Well," Joyce said, "we need someone to play Santa."

"Maybe two people," Oz commented.

"That sounded like you volunteering," Sonya teased her boyfriend.

"That sounded like you volunteering to help him," Amy replied before Oz had the chance to say anything.

It took some persuading, but Oz and Sonya finally donned the Santa hats Joyce had ready, and began passing out brightly wrapped packages. It took quite a while, but eventually they finished the process and everyone ended up with at least two or three gifts to open.

"Now what?" Sonya asked, plopping back down on the couch, her packages at her feet.

"Well, now we open them," Joyce said. "Have at it, everybody."

The sound of ripping paper and exclamations of delight filled the living room as gifts were opened and displayed. Buffy opened her boxes slowly. There was a warm, fuzzy sweater from Amy. A protective charm from Jenny. The new pair of shoes she'd drooled over at the mall from her mother. A delicate silver watch from Aidan. Buffy kissed him on the cheek to express her thanks. It was a beautiful piece, with intricate swirls and twirls. Her name was engraved on the inside of the wristband. Oz got her a book -- Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Buffy ran her fingers over the cover fondly, remembering their first lunch together in the cafeteria at school. She found a perfectly carved stake in a box, and knew immediately who it was from. She looked up at Sonya and exchanged a delighted grin. Sonya held the box Buffy had given her, which contained a perfectly carved stake.

Her last present from the group was in a small, plainly wrapped box. Buffy thought it looked almost like a jewelry box, but it didn't have a card on it. She opened the box and looked inside. Lying on a bed of cotton was a beautiful silver cross. It wasn't extremely ornamental. Just plain silver with a plain silver chain. But the beauty was in the simplicity. Buffy picked it up and examined it. She examined the cross, the chain, even the box and the wrapping paper, but there was nothing to indicate who the cross was from. Buffy ran her fingers over it, and then slipped it around her neck. It felt strange at first. She was unaccustomed to its weight. All her jewelry was much lighter. But she left it on, hoping whoever had gotten it for her would realize her thanks because she was wearing it.

After finishing with her presents, Buffy sat back and surveyed the room. The others were still engrossed in the unwrapping process. Even Rio, who hadn't had many packages to open, was sitting next to Amy, helping her with her boxes. It made Buffy smile contentedly to see presents from her in front of everyone there.

Her gaze drifted to the large front window. Outside she could see the edge of the brilliant winter moon as it shone down on the neighborhood. Even all the sparkling Christmas lights paled in comparison to the natural beauty.

Something dark moved outside. Buffy couldn't make out what it was, but she knew she had seen something real. Something lurking out there. Her Slayer senses started to ping. Quietly, she got up and walked into the kitchen like she was going for a drink of water or a pair of scissors. She didn't want to interrupt anyone's festivities if she didn't need to. But her new stake was firmly in her waistband, just in case.

Buffy exited the back door and crept around the side of the house. She could move practically silently when she tried. Not even the crunch of leaves or the snap of a twig gave her away. When she rounded the corner, she saw something, no, someone standing near the window. The light from inside illuminated his or her silhouette.

"Who are you, and what are you doing spying on my house," Buffy demanded suddenly.

The person turned around calmly to face her and stepped closer, away from the window.

Buffy lowered the stake when she recognized the person's face. "Faith. Why didn't you just ring the doorbell."

"Because I wasn't sure that I wanted to come in," Faith replied with a sneer. "I just had to check the place out, find out what was so important that everyone I know came trotting over here because you were down in the mouth."

Buffy frowned at the other girl's acerbic comment. "I didn't ask them to come, but I'm very grateful that they did. Is there something wrong? Something with you and Angel? He seems more broody than usual tonight."

Faith actually looked surprised for a second, before she covered it up. "More broody, huh. Well, with him, you never know. He's probably just remembering something from his past."

"Maybe so..." Buffy hesitated and then decided to say what was on her mind. "But I think he misses you."

"Why would he miss me? It's not like we're an 'item' or something." Faith tossed her hair back over her shoulder. "I'm a free agent, and I like it that way."

"You're not?" Buffy arched an eyebrow. "Maybe you should look a little closer. Come in any time you want to." With that, Buffy turned and went back into the house the way she'd come.

A few seconds later, she heard a tapping at the front door. Her mother started to get up, but Buffy stopped her. "I've got it."

Buffy put a huge smile on her face, and opened the door. She ushered Faith into the living room and announced her with, "Look who's here, everybody!" People waved and said hello.

"Aren't there some more presents?" Buffy asked.

"We put 'em over there." Oz pointed to a small stack of unopened boxes next to Angel's chair.

Faith walked over and sat down near the boxes, looking shocked beyond belief.

"I'm glad you made it," Aidan told her with a smile.

"Really?" Faith retorted sarcastically.

"Really," Aidan confirmed.

"Me, too," Doyle called from his position near the tree.

"Now I know this is bull," Faith said. "I get on your nerves, professor."

"That ye do, but in a good way." Doyle chuckled. "But if ye don't like yer present from me, just don' throw it at me, OK?"

Angel reached over as the other started going about their business again and touched Faith on the shoulder. "I'm glad you came."

"Really?" Faith asked, no sarcasm this time.

"Really," Angel replied.

Buffy sat down in her chair and smiled, glad she’d brought people some happiness.

Just then the clock began to chime. Everyone counted out loud, making a silly game of it. Doyle was declared the winner for most ridiculous counting voice.

Aidan looked around at everyone when the laughter had died down and announced, "Merry Christmas to all!"

Understanding dawned on Cordelia's face. "Wow, it is Christmas now."

"Yep," Oz said, putting his arm around Sonya, "right now." He winked at the brunette. The two were an interesting combination, but their friendship worked.

The doorbell rang.

"Who could that be?" Joyce wondered, starting to stand up. "Everyone we know is already here." Her eyes flashed to Faith with a smile.

"Don't get up, Mom," Buffy called, springing to her feet. "I'll get it." She wanted to save her mom the trouble, since Buffy knew she'd been such a problematic child the past few days.

Buffy walked to the door and opened it. She looked outside, but no one was there. The cool wind blew into the entry hall, raising goose bumps on her exposed arms.

"That's strange," Buffy muttered. She moved to close the door when something red caught her eye. She looked down, and in the door latch, someone had placed a single red rose. Buffy reached down and picked it up. She brought it to her nose and inhaled the sweet smell.

"Merry Christmas."

She knew that voice. She knew it very well. Her eyes moved up to meet a familiar pair of chocolate brown ones. "Xander! How...?"

"Shhhh." Xander stepped inside, and pulled Buffy into a long kiss. She wrapped her arms around him, and held him close. So tight that he grunted with pain, but he didn't tell her to let go. He, too, had longed for the closeness.

"Buffy, who was at the door?" Joyce walked into the doorway and looked at the scene before her. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. "Xander!"

The word echoed back through the living room, and everyone pushed into the door way or the entry hall to see for themselves. Buffy and Xander de-clinched to find that they had an audience. They both blushed.

"Harris!" Sonya cried. "How did you get here?"

Xander shut the door, and moved forward to give Sonya a friendly hug. "Standby ticket. One of the Council members knew a guy at the airport."

Joyce's eyes sprang to the closed door. "Is Giles out there? Let him inside. It's cold out there."

Xander shook his head. "Only one seat opened up. He let me have it."

"That was very sweet of him," Joyce said, completely hiding any disappointment she felt. Her daughter was glowing. That was enough of a Christmas miracle.

Buffy grabbed Xander's hand. "Come in here. Let me give you your present." She pulled him into the living room. There was one present left under the tree -- the one she'd saved for Xander before finding out he wouldn't be able to come.

"I don't have your present," Xander said sadly. "I mailed it yesterday."

"I don't care about presents," Buffy told him. "You being here is all the present I need." They sat down on the couch, and she leaned in for another kiss. She'd meant for it just to be a quick one, but it lengthened into a long, passionate kiss.

Aidan and Joyce herded the others into the kitchen and the dining room.

"Come on guys," Aidan said. "Let's give them a minute alone."

Faith noticed Angel looking back at Buffy and Xander one last time before following the crowd. Doing her best not to freak out, she asked, "You OK?"

Angel looked at Faith and nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. I'm just glad he managed to get here."

Faith reached out and squeezed his hand. Then she dropped it. Holding hands was not her thing.

"I'm glad you got here, too," Angel said quietly.

"You know," Faith replied. "Me, too. Merry Christmas."

Angel didn't smile very often, but he smiled at that. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

Part 9: The Princess and the Professor

The Mayor’s Office

Lindsey McDonald looked up from the paperwork he'd been attending to. His new job as Mayor Wilkens's lawyer/assistant paid well (well enough, and with enough perks that he'd given up the job at Wolfram & Hart to come to Sunnydale), but there was plenty of work to do to earn that money. Lindsey had only been in town for a week, and already his desk was overflowing with paperwork.

"Just fine, Mayor," Lindsey answered.

"You're doing a fine job, here," the Mayor said, giving Lindsey a wide smile. "A fine job. But something saddens me."

"And what would that be?" Lindsey asked. "I got the mess with the priests settled just this morning..."

The Mayor waved Lindsey silent. "Let's not talk about that any more. It's not fitting for such an occasion as this."

"Occasion?" Lindsey replied, mystified.

"Valentine's Day." The Mayor's smile widened even further. "Don't let work keep you from whatever plans you might have."

"Well, I haven't been in town long enough to have plans."

The Mayor's face fell. "Well, we can't have that, can we? You can't be alone on Valentine's Day." He thought for a minute. "I know. My neighbor has a nice daughter. Very pretty, and the loveliest personality. And I'll reserve a table for you at the best restaurant in town."

Going on a blind date with your boss's friend was never a good idea. Quickly, Lindsey said, "Actually, Mayor, there is one girl I've met in Sunnydale. Perhaps I should give her a call."

"That sounds splendid." The Mayor didn't seem too disappointed that he couldn't fix up his newest employee. He handed Lindsey a small, white card. "Give this to the matradee at La Petite Cafe, and your meals will be on the house. Not to mention, you'll have the best table in the place. We've got quite the business coming up on Monday. I'll really need you in top form. A fun holiday evening will be just the thing."

"Thank you," Lindsey said.

When the Mayor left his office, Lindsey pulled out his rolodex. "All right... where did I put her number..."

Cordelia’s House

Cordelia Chase had given up hope of a decent Valentine's Day days ago. For some reason, there just wasn't anyone around who interested her. Not that she hadn't been asked out for the evening. She'd actually garnered invitations for a romantic dinner for two (with a sophomore, of all things... like she, a senior, would actually be seen with him, even if he was a cutie), a double date in LA, complete with limo and obligatory roses and chocolates (with Harmony's cousin in from out of town; Cordelia knew she could do better, and had told Harmony so), and even to the Valentine's Day shindig at the Cellar (the guy was popular, and rich, but so dull... after Percy, Cordelia wouldn't make that mistake again). However, none of the invitations had met her high standards. The guy list at S.H.S. had fallen off this year. Maybe it was part of being a senior -- there weren't any older, sophisticated men to chose from. Only the malcontents in her own grade.

Now, her Valentine's Day plans consisted of rattling around her parent's house, alone. Her father was off on another business trip. China, this time. And her mother. Well, that didn't really bear thinking about, though it hadn't escaped Cordelia's attention that the new house boy was suspiciously gone as well. The cute, gold-digging houseboy. Cordelia had spurned his fake attentions, but apparently her mother had not.

"Well, the perks of being alone on Valentine's Day include me not having to get all dolled up," Cordelia told her reflection in her vanity mirror with false bravado. At school today, she'd pretended that she had huge plans with someone really great tonight. Private plans, she'd said. Harmony and the girls had believed her, of course. How could they do otherwise?

The door bell rang, echoing throughout the large house. A few minutes later, the intercom in her room buzzed. "Miss Chase?"

"Yes, Matilda?" Cordelia called.

"Some girls are here to see you."

"Show them up, and then you can go home early. Enjoy your holiday." Cordelia knew Matilda had a boyfriend, and suddenly decided that at least her maid should enjoy the evening.

"Thank you, Miss."

As she uttered the words, Cordelia sprang up from her seat and began pulling outfits out of her walk in closet. When Harmony and whoever else came up here to see if she was telling the truth, they would find her knee-deep in preparation for her "date."

"Hi!"

Cordelia dropped her black leather miniskirt at the sound of the unexpected voice. She turned to see Amy Madison and Buffy Summers standing in her doorway. "What are you guys doing here?"

They came in, and Amy said, "Well, we thought we'd see if you wanted to join our Anti-Valentine's Day party."

Buffy nodded. "We're watching movies and eating lots of junk food at my place. My mom's joining us, too. And maybe Jenny Calendar."

"Sonya is, of course, going on a stomach-churningly romantic date with Oz," Amy said, flopping down on Cordelia's canopied bed.

"And Faith is taking the early patrol tonight," Buffy added. "I'm on the late shift."

"Didn't you hear that I have a hot date?" Cordelia asked, having a sudden panic attack, though she didn't let it show on her face. Had she been so transparent? If Harmony and the others had guessed, she would never live it down. Cordelia began contemplating a move to some little rural town where no one from California would know her. Someplace like Roswell, New Mexico, where she could hide her humiliation among hicks and alien fanatics.

"Come on, Cordelia," Amy said. "We know you better than that."

"You may be able to fool the other members of the Brat Pack, but not us," Buffy added. "We know what you're like when you're excited about a guy. That day at the mall stands out in my mind."

Cordelia actually smiled. Imagine, girls who knew her, actually knew her. The idea was made her feel both pleased and frighteningly vulnerable at the same time.

Just then her private line rang, interrupting the conversation. Cordelia pasted a smile on her face that would carry over phone wires and picked up the white and gold antique telephone receiver from her bedside table. "Hello?"

"Hi, Cordelia."

For just a second, Cordelia was at a loss. Then, she recognized the voice, and felt her heart speed up. But she had to keep it casual. "I thought you lost my number. It's been months."

"I was in L.A., sifting through the job offers. I just moved to Sunnydale, actually."

"Really, that's great." She kept her voice calm, but began bouncing up and down just a little to release her excess energy.

Buffy and Amy looked at Cordelia in surprise as they waited to find out who the person was making Cordelia so excited.

"Anyway," Lindsey said, "I was calling to ask you out. For tonight."

Cordelia twisted the phone cord around her finger. "I don't know. That's pretty short notice, and I did have some other plans in mind..." Not a complete lie, but she hoped he assumed it was another guy instead of a bunch of girls, pizza and a VCR.

"I've got a premium table at La Petite Cafe. I promise you'll have a great time. We can even go dancing afterwards. I've heard about this great little club over in Calvin."

"That does sound tempting," Cordelia allowed, not wanting to seem too eager.

"How about this," Lindsey suggested. "You meet me at the restaurant at seven, and if we don't have fun you can leave at any point and drive yourself home."

"You talked me into it," Cordelia agreed. "I'll see you there at seven."

"Great."

"You know," Cordelia told him honestly, "I'm really glad you called me."

"Me, too," Lindsey replied. His voice was warm and raised goosebumps on the back of her neck. "See you later."

Cordelia hung up her phone, and immediately Buffy and Amy began the third degree.

"All right, Missy!" Amy said. "Who was that, and why are you so excited you let your usual cool exterior drop for so long?"

"I think it must be the guy of her dreams," Buffy guessed.

"It was Lindsey," Cordelia told them, brimming with excitement. "The cute lawyer from the mall."

"Riley's friend?" Amy asked, catching a gleam of excitement herself. "He didn't want to double with Riley, did he? I kept hoping that guy would call me, but he didn't..."

"Sorry," Cordelia answered, though she wasn't really that sorry. After all, Amy had Rio, even if she didn't know it. Cordelia had a sense about these things. "But Lindsey just moved to Sunnydale, and he wants us to go out tonight. He's got a table at the best, and most expensive, restaurant in town." Cordelia sank down in an over-stuffed, white chair next to her bed. "Lindsey is so great. He's mature, and he's a career man. He dresses well, and has plenty of money. And, to top it all off, he's both attractive and interesting. Something all the boys at our school lack in the extreme!"

Buffy smiled. "I'm glad for you, Cordelia. Really glad. You're going to have a great time."

"I know!" Amy cried. "How about we help you pick out your outfit?"

Cordelia had a momentary flashback of the day she'd run into them at the mall and the awful way the two blondes had wanted to dress Sonya, a fellow brunette. "Umm... how about you help me decide between a couple of outfits I already have in mind?"

"Sure," Amy agreed easily.

It took awhile, but eventually Cordelia was ready for her date. And not a moment too soon. Her wall clock read 6:30, and she had to drive to the restaurant, park and get there in time for a last minute makeup check in the ladies room.

"You look killer," Amy said, as Cordelia gave a last twirl in front of the mirror. Buffy nodded, and Cordelia had to agree as well. She'd gone for the older woman look since her date was with an older man. Her hair was up in a French twist, baring her shapely neck, and she'd gone for sophisticated makeup shades instead of some of the bright eyeliners and lipsticks she normally favored. She wore a form-fitting black sheath dress that ended just above her knees. She found black hose and shiny, black, high-heeled pumps that made her legs seem much longer. She put a gauzy, black evening jacket on over the sleeveless dress, and added a string of pearls around her neck.

"Very sophisticated, too," Buffy added. She stood up. "I guess we should get out of your hair."

"Yeah, the other gals are waiting," Amy agreed.

As the girls were leaving, Cordelia called, "Hey, um, thanks for coming over, and for inviting me to the movie night."

"No problem," Buffy replied.

"Yeah, there's always next time," Amy added.

Cordelia watched them leave, and then picked up her small, black evening purse. She threw in a tube of lipstick, her drivers' license, keys, and some money, just in case. Then she was ready to go.

"All right, Miss Chase," she told her reflection as she stood poised at the door to her room. "Get ready for a night you will never forget!"

In Doyle’s Car

"Valentine's Day sucks."

Doyle groaned repeatedly as he pulled his car out of the Summers' driveway.

"Women's night, me arse. They could have bloody well let me come. I'm just as dateless as they are."

He sighed. Living in Joyce Summers' garage apartment was normally a good deal. Free food and friendly companions almost any time he needed them. Except on the most depressing night for a single, half-demon, red-blooded male. Valentine's Day. Of course, Doyle could have stayed in his small living space, but the walls had started to close in on him. Visions of past Valentine's Days (memories... not the painful PTB visions) kept flashing through his mind. Visions of his time with Harry, and how he would probably never find another relationship like that in his life. It didn't help that Harry had recently sent him a message -- divorce papers. Now they were really free of each other. She'd wanted him to meet her new guy, her new fiancée. But Doyle had flatly refused, and Harry hadn't pushed the issue.

Heaving a deep sigh, Doyle puttered around in his car, trying to decide where to go. He couldn't go out to a restaurant. He wouldn't be able to eat with all the sappy lovers around. Doyle ended up driving aimlessly. Suddenly, he found himself on a familiar stretch of road. He was cruising through the wealthy section of town, past mansions and estates. A familiar mansion was on the next block. The Chase mansion.

"Maybe I'll stop by and see 'Delia," Doyle mumbled. "Despite that grand show she put on last night, I know she don' have a date... We can commiserate..." He was Cordelia's chemistry tutor, and he and the fiery brunette had spent a lot of time together in the past few weeks. Of course, all she did was bicker with him, but, somehow, Doyle found it fun to push her buttons.

Crash!

Doyle's head whipped back, banging painfully against the headrest of his old car. He looked up and saw that he'd hit someone coming out of a driveway.

"Teach me ta be woolgatherin' while I'm drivin'." Doyle shook his head, and got out of the car. Luckily, his pile of junk didn't seem to be too damaged. The sports car, on the other hand, had completely crumpled over the rear, passenger-side tire. It wasn't pretty. Suddenly, Doyle's heart caught in his throat. He recognized that car. He'd ridden in that car. His eyes flashed to the driveway out of which the car had barreled. The Chase driveway.

The door of the sports car opened, and a pair of endless legs capped by stiletto heels popped out. The heels clicked angrily when they touched the asphalt. The legs were followed by a ton of curves smoothed into a basic, black dress. But what halted Doyle in his tracks were the eyes... brown, beautiful, and more angry than he'd ever seen them.

"Allen Francis Doyle... what the hell are you doing?"

"'Delia. I'm so sorry. I didnae mean ta... I don' know what..." His words trailed off to mumbled swearing and self-flagellation.

Cordelia glared down at him from her heel-enhanced height. "You'd better have insurance, Mister, or I'll have to have my Daddy get your visa revoked."

"I'll pay fer all the damages." His throat muscles flexed nervously, as both their minds flashed to the fact that her car cost more than he made in a year as an elementary school teacher. "Somehow."

"Great, just great." Cordelia reached back into her car and pulled out her handbag. "I get asked out on the most important date of my whole, entire life, and you run me down in your piece of crap car. And it's not like it even matters to you. Your car looks better with dents in it!"

"Should we call a tow truck?" Doyle asked.

Cordelia checked her slim, gold watch. It was after six thirty. If she had to wait for a tow truck, she'd never make it to the restaurant in time. "Push it."

Doyle raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, lass?"

"You heard me." Cordelia placed a French-manicured hand on a black-clad hip. "Push it. Up into the driveway so no one will hit it. Then you can give me a ride to the restaurant where I'm meeting my date. And then you can come back here and call the tow truck."

Doyle sighed. "Aye, lass."

After several minutes of back-breaking labor, Doyle managed to heave the car a few feet forward. Cordelia seemed satisfied and hopped into the front seat of his car before he could even think of opening the door for her. She gingerly settled herself on his aged interior, pulled a compact out of her tiny purse and started touching up her makeup.

A few minutes later, he'd made a U-turn and had started driving back toward downtown.

"So," Doyle asked, breaking the silence, "who's this date yer so worked up over?"

The compact snapped closed. "No one you know."

"Yer not going out with the sophomore, are ye?"

One look from her told him what she thought of that option.

"Then who is he?" Somehow, Doyle just had to know.

"If you must know," Cordelia said airily, "his name is Lindsey. He's a lawyer, rich and very cute. I met him at the mall."

Doyle stared at the road in front of them. A rich, young, hot shot lawyer. Sounded perfect for Cordelia, or at least it was supposed to. Sometimes it was hard to imagine the girl he tutored, the girl who either laughed at his jokes or rolled her eyes at them so endearingly, the girl who called him professor when she wanted to get his goat, the girl Cordelia became when she didn't have anyone around to impress (Doyle knew he wasn't up there on her Must Impress list, and he was OK with that)... sometimes it was hard to imagine that Cordelia with someone... shallow.

"Sounds great," Doyle finally said. Then he shook himself out of this moody attitude and found a grin. "Does the bloke happen to have a sister? Or maybe a cousin? I donae pretend to be picky..."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Even if he did have a sister... or a cousin, it would be way too late. Besides, he's new in town. I think he lives alone."

Doyle shrugged. "Too bad fer me."

A frown wrinkled her face for a moment. "So... what are you going to do tonight?"

"I suppose I'll be spendin' the night o' lovers waitin' fer a tow-truck. After I drop ye off fer yer date, o' course."

"You know, Doyle, if you have other plans... you could get the car towed in the morning. My parents won't be back for a couple of days. No one will notice it."

He shot her a smile. "I didnae know ye cared about me social life, princess."

She shot him a glare. "I don't. I was just being nice. And if you call me princess again, professor, I'll... I'll..."

Cordelia never got to vocalize what would probably have been a horrible threat that would have made Doyle cower for his life. Suddenly, his car shuddered and made a horrible groaning noise. The steering wheel began to shake. Doyle grabbed it with both hands and willed it to stop. Not now, damn it! But his will wasn't strong enough. The ancient car (he'd bought it for a couple of hundred bucks, what could he expect?) ground to a noisy and painful stop by the side of the road. Steam flowed through the cracks of the hood and into the clear night sky.

"I guess this means we're walkin'?" Doyle was almost afraid to look at her, with good reason.

Cordelia's mouth worked, but she couldn't think of anything to say. Then the perfect phrase came to mind. "This is the worst night of my whole, entire life... thanks to you!"

Her teeth ground together angrily as she got out of the car and began walking toward downtown. Luckily, it was less than half a mile now. Though that half of a mile was through the heart of Sunnydale in the dark of night. Doyle grabbed his leather jacket from the back seat and hurried after her.

Cordelia walked in silence. She could hear the click of her heels on the asphalt and the hurried thump of Doyle's feet as he strained to catch up. She said nothing when he materialized by her side. Her breath fogged in the mid-February air. It doesn't get as cold in California as in many placed in the country, but it was cold enough that her gauzy evening jacket wasn't doing a very good job of protecting her naked arms from the cold.

"Here."

She felt the comforting weight of leather over her shoulders, and threw Doyle a side-long glance. If it were summer, and daylight, she would drop the jacket on the ground and walk away while he tried to pick it up. However, it wasn't summer, and she was cold. It was also night, and Cordelia was practical enough to realize that if she planned to make this date, she might need Doyle as escort. Perhaps the big bads would leave her alone if she had a demon escort. Half demon. Whatever. She didn't say thank you for the jacket, but she slid her arms into its warm folds.

"Yer welcome." Doyle gazed at her as they walked. Him in his shirt sleeves, his ridiculous Hawaiian shirt flapping in the winter breeze. Orange was all wrong for him, color-wise, but Cordelia wasn't in the mood to talk about fashion, especially to someone so fashionably challenged.

"Do you want it back?" she asked bluntly.

Doyle shook his head.

Cordelia hugged the leather do her, feeling its weight against the silky material of her dress.

"Look, I'm sorry, but the car breakin' down... that's not me fault. I'm doin' the best I can here."

Finally, Cordelia relented. "I know, Doyle. But, it's just... this is the first date I've had with a guy I'm really interested in for a long time. All the guys at school, well, I have more fun in our tutoring sessions, if you can believe that. But Lindsey... he's... he could be something great... maybe." She shook her head. "Pretty stupid, huh? Like there's any such thing as true love anymore."

The Restaurant

Lindsey checked his watch yet again. Nope. It was still working. Cordelia was just late. Really late. Normally, Lindsey wouldn't wait this long for any chick, but Cordelia... well, she had potential. He didn't want to believe that she would stand him up.

A smile curved his lips as he anticipated what the evening might have in store. If she ever showed up.

The waitress circled by his table for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"Have there been any calls for me?" he asked.

She shook her head, blonde hair waving with the motion. "No, Mr. McDonald. Not that I know of."

"Would you check?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

Lindsey watched her leave, absently noticing the attractive sway of her hips. Then his eyes went back down to his watch. She was just running late, right? Of course, that was it. Really.

"... Like there's any such thing as true love anymore." For a brief second, it looked like Cordelia's eyes were about to tear up. Either that was a trick of the light, or she willed the tears away. Whichever was true, she put her brave face on again, just like she did every time she got hurt or blindsided. Spending so much time together doing Scooby Gang stuff and tutoring, Doyle had seen it before.

That's when Doyle knew it. He knew exactly what the funny feeling was he got in his stomach when she walked in the room. He knew why he loved to get her goat so much. He knew why he kept tutoring her in chemistry, even though he had to study ahead of time to be ready for her. He knew why the thought of her going out with some hotshot, rich, smooth lawyer on tonight of all nights was driving him slowly insane. How could he not have realized this before? It hadn't been like this with Harry. With Harry it had felt completely different. But this was it. Doyle was completely and totally in love with Cordelia... and there wasn't anything he could do about it.

He was silent for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally, he knew there was only one thing he could do. "I'll get you there in time."

Her eyes opened wide. "How?"

"I know a short cut."

She glanced at her watch. "I'm already late. This would have to be one hell of a short cut."

"Trust me." He held out a hand to her.

She didn't hesitate, but grabbed his hand. Doyle turned off the road, plunging through an alley. It wasn't smart to take allies alone at night in Sunnydale, but Doyle meant business. Maybe any lurky creatures in the back-alley route he chose sensed that and decided to hold off for easier prey. Riled up, a half demon could be pretty tough stuff. Or maybe they were just lucky enough to pick the alleys that were empty for the night. Either way, it didn't matter. They reached the center of down in half the time it would have taken them via legitimate roads and sidewalks.

Cordelia saw the restaurant where she was to meet Lindsey gleaming in the distance. She could hear the music of a string quartet through the open doors, beckoning her. She checked her watch. She was very, very late, but maybe he was still there. Without the short cut, there would have been no chance.

"Go, lass," Doyle urged. "Yer man's waitin'."

She was halfway to the restaurant, when she suddenly turned and walked back toward Doyle. He looked up in surprise. She handed him back his jacket and smiled at him. An actual real smile. "Thanks, Doyle. For getting me here. It was a great short cut. Of course, I wouldn't have needed it if you hadn't..." She paused, and stopped that train of thought. "Just... thanks." She leaned in and gave him a hug.

The Restaurant

Lindsey paid the tab for the undrunk bottle of wine with a scowl on his handsome face. He'd been stood up! This was a first. What was he going to tell the Mayor? Of course the Mayor would find out about it, the man had set up the reservations for Pete's sake, and he had eyes and ears everywhere in this town. Another thought struck him. What the hell would he tell Riley? His long-time friend would never let him hear the end of getting stood up on Valentine's Day.

"Mr. McDonald, here's your receipt."

He took the leather folder from the waitress and scribbled his name on the appropriate line. He was about to leave when a delicate hand touched his shoulder. He looked up, expecting to see a penitent, unpunctual, brunette bombshell. Instead, he saw a blonde haired, curvaceous waitress.

"I know this is a little forward, Mr. McDonald, but you seemed so lonely..." She smiled. "I get off in ten minutes. My apartment is just around the corner..." Her voice trailed off, rife with promise.

Lindsey thought about it for a second and then grinned at the girl. Might as well not let the night go to waste. "Sure, I'll meet you there. And bring the wine with you."

The spring was back in his step as he exited the restaurant. When he got outside, he automatically scanned the area one last time for Cordelia. There weren't very many people around -- most of them were already inside with their dates. His eye fell on a brunette with a sexy figure, but she was draped all over a short guy with a fashion sense that made Lindsey shake his head in shame for the male species. With a shrug, Lindsey turned toward the parking lot, already planning for the evening ahead.

A Little Ways Down the Block

Doyle was still bemused by Cordelia's sudden spurt of gratitude when she ended the hug and hurried into the restaurant as quickly as her stiletto heels would take her. His skin still tingled from the touch of her arms around him. Yep, this was love. Thank God Cordelia had already passed her 18th birthday, from the legal standpoint anyway.

Then he pushed those thoughts away. It was no good thinking about that. Cordelia and her lawyer would probably hit it off tonight and embark on a steamy relationship, leaving Doyle adrift in the seas of heartache and chemistry.

"You're still here."

He looked up. Cordelia stood there, shivering in her impractical evening jacket, alone.

"What happened to yer guy?"

"Gone." She sighed. "I guess I couldn't expect him to wait this long. I... I was trying to play it cool. When I didn't show up, I guess he thought I really meant it when I pretended not to be excited about meeting him."

"I never understood games o' the heart," Doyle said as he shrugged out of his coat and slipped it around her shoulders again. "Why play it cool when all you really want to do is touch her an' tell her how beautiful she is in the moonlight?" His hand grazed hers as he let go of the jacket.

Cordelia shrugged. "I don't know. That's just the way it works."

"I think that's a silly way fer it to work, but, then, I donae pretend to be as sophisticated as ye."

They started walking back to her house -- taking the longer, safer route this time. Most of the long walk passed in silence. Doyle didn't know what Cordelia was thinking about, but he didn't want to intrude. He was also distracted by his own feelings. You'd think he would be happy that her date hadn't worked out. After all, if she wasn't dating someone, that meant there was still a chance, however slim, for something to develop between the princess and the professor. But, instead, Doyle found himself wishing it had worked out for her. He wanted her to be happy more than anything else. And if he could find that lawyer, Doyle knew he would punch the guy's lights out for not waiting just a little longer for his date.

When they got back to her house, Cordelia said, "You don't have to call the tow truck. I'll do it. My insurance can afford it more, anyway. I'll say it was a hit-and-run."

"Ye don' have to..."

She stopped his protest. "I want to."

"Well, thank ye very much." Doyle stood there for a moment, rocking back and forth on his heels. Silence had suddenly gone from comfortable to awkward. He didn't know what to say now, and that was a first since he was a talker.

Suddenly, Cordelia leaned in and kissed Doyle on the cheek. "I just want you to know, this wasn't the worst night of my whole, entire life." She paused, and then turned toward her house. "Good night, Doyle."

"G'night, lass!"

Doyle watched until Cordelia had let herself in the front door. Then he turned and started the long walk back to his garage apartment with a grin on his face. Valentine's Day hadn't turned out so badly after all!

The End