Buffy-watching.

It would have been funny if it weren't so humiliating.

Cordelia sighed, loudly, but none of the other occupants in the library seemed to notice. Buffy was deeply involved in her near-daily ritual of pummeling her Watcher into oblivion. Giles clearly required all his wits to remain upright and conscious as her blows rained down on various padded portions of his anatomy. And Xander, seated next to Cordelia but apparently unaware of her existence, was staring at both of them with a brooding expression that didn't bode well for their four-month sort-of-anniversary date at the Bronze later.

Finally, Cordelia decided to give up any pretense at subtlety. "Xander," she hissed angrily, leaning over so Buffy and Giles couldn't hear her. "What is your *problem*?"

Xander finally turned to look at her, and his blank expression was possibly even more infuriating than his brooding one. "What?"

"What is *with* you?" she asked, exasperated.

Xander scowled and looked down at his math textbook, which had been open to the same two pages since Buffy's workout had begun almost two hours ago. "Nothing," he replied sullenly.

She slammed her own book shut and shot up out of her chair, glaring down at him with all the outrage she could muster. "That's it! I don't know what pod-person has taken over your body, but as of this moment, I officially don't care. Have a nice life, bugboy!"

"Wait," he protested, grabbing her arm to prevent her from leaving. "Where are you going?"

She rolled her eyes. "Look, I hate to break it to you, but I don't get the same thrill out of seeing Buffy work up a sweat as you do. God, Xander, even Willow and Oz blew this place hours ago, and Willow's a bookgeek. Why are we *here*?"

He didn't meet her gaze. "Slayerettes," he mumbled unconvincingly. "Research...you know..."

"Yeah? Well, research *this*!" she retorted, yanking her arm from his grasp. "*I'm* going to the Bronze! If you'd still like to have a girlfriend tomorrow, you might try showing up. And if you're lucky, I *won't* have replaced you before you get there!"

"Sounds like you'd better go, Xander," Buffy put in cheerfully as she bounded up to the table for a fluid break. "It's not like you guys need to hang - tonight shouldn't be remotely Hellmouthy, according to Giles. We're taking the night off from Slayage to do research." She drank deeply from her water-bottle.

Xander turned his glare on Giles, who was at the librarian's desk paging obliviously through a book, his protective padding piled on the counter. "Yeah, right," he intoned sarcastically.

"Are you all right, Xand?" Buffy asked, her brow furrowing in concern as she looked down at him. "You've been acting kind of zombie for days now." Cordelia glanced from Buffy's bewildered face to Xander's set expression and grew more confused by the minute.

"I'm fine," Xander snapped, clapping his book shut and rising from his chair. "Let's go, Cordy." He spun on his heel and headed for the door, without looking back to see if she were following.

Buffy and Cordelia traded worried glances. "I've gotta go shower and change," Buffy said after a moment. "And Giles and I have stuff tonight. Are you-"

"I'll deal with psycho-boy," Cordelia replied, sighing and rolling her eyes. She gathered up her books, all the while mumbling under her breath - "Why am I dating him again? Oh, yeah, 'tawdry teen lust'..."

Buffy grinned as Cordelia's querulous words followed her out of the library. She glanced over at Giles, who appeared completely absorbed in a large, musty book. <Not for long, loverboy,> she thought, her grin widening. "I'll be right back," she told him, hoisting her duffel over her shoulder.

"Mmmm-hmmm," said Giles.

Cordelia rounded the hallway corner and stifled a scream as a hand shot out and clamped on her arm. "Xander Harris!" she hissed, trying to catch her breath as her heart beat triple-time, "Don't *do* that! This is the Hellmouth, for God's sake! I thought you were a vampire!" Xander had the grace to look abashed. "Sorry, Cordy." He glanced over her shoulder. "Where's Buffy?" "Where's Buffy?" Cordelia mimicked nastily, more hurt than angry. "I'm sorry, Xander, but I don't know, since I don't seem to possess your keen Buffy-radar. What's the strategy here? You think maybe if you drool on her long enough, she'll realize that she loves you? I mean, now that your deadboy competition is apparently out of the-" "This is serious," he said, cutting her off. "Where did she go?" Cordelia glanced up at the ceiling. <I should get a medal for not killing him with my nail file *right* now...> "She said she had to change her clothes," she informed him pedantically, as though she were speaking to a small, not-very-bright child. "Whyever do you care?" Xander looked up and down the hallway to make sure the coast was clear - Snyder's occasional nocturnal patrols occurred just often enough to keep a Slayerette on his toes. "Come on," he said, tugging on her arm as he retraced his steps back toward the library. Cordelia considered refusing, but something in his voice made her think that this wasn't a run-of-the-mill Xander flake- out. "I'm coming," she grumbled, setting off behind him. <*Why* did I fall in love with him again?...>

Buffy smoothed her damp, curling hair as she pushed open the library doors, feeling shower-fresh and full of energy. She was wearing the new outfit she and Willow had found at the mall the previous week, a slinky halter and mini combo that Willow had deemed a definite 'boykiller' and a guaranteed 'never-show-to- Mom'. Not that Willow had any idea of the identity of the male Buffy wanted to impress- Buffy had a sneaking suspicion that Willow was thinking along the lines of Angel-reconciliation. She hated more than anything that she was deceiving her best friend, but that was how it had to be for now, and she accepted that. She wondered how Giles would like the outfit. "Giles?" she called as she crossed over to the table and turned on the radio. Something low and sexy issued forth from the speakers, and she turned to scan the stacks for any sign of him. <Competing with old books for his attention - that's either good, in that I'm reasonably sure I can beat the competition - or bad, because he *really* likes to read...> "Where are you?" "Right here," he replied in a muffled voice as he exited the door of his office, his nose - <naturally> - buried in a book. "I've found something most interesting in the Chronicle of-" His voice cut off abruptly, followed by an audible gulp, as soon as he looked up at her. <Score one for Willow,> Buffy thought, grinning. She struck a sexy pose. "You like?" His lips pursed in a soundless whistle. "Ah-...yes, I like." He began to smile. "I very much like." She walked over to him and removed the book from his unprotesting fingers. "I bought it with you in mind," she purred seductively, depositing the book on the counter and drawing him out into the open floor by pulling on his tie. "Let's dance." Giles took her into his arms willingly enough, but his smile turned slightly rueful. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a dancer," he replied, gazing down at her affectionately. "Unless you'd like a waltz or something similar." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, rubbing her silk clad breasts against his chest. "Move with the times, Giles," she murmured in low voice, grinding her pelvis against him. He moaned. "I think maybe you just need a good teacher." His hands traveled down her back to cup her rounded buttocks. He pulled her up against him, and she could feel his heated arousal against her thigh. She planted soft kisses against his neck as he struggled to marshal enough wits to answer her offer. "I think-" *gulp* "-that is a marvelous idea..."

"Xander, where are we going?" Cordelia demanded, exasperated. "We just *left* the library." "I know," Xander muttered under his breath, proceeding stealthily down the hallway. "For once in your life, be quiet, will you? Just do what I do." "Not even," she murmured, rolling her eyes as she crept along behind him. <That's it! This boy needs industrial strength therapy - and maybe electric shocks...> She opened her mouth to tell him so, but shut it again as he waved her back against the wall. They were just outside of the library, and a few soft notes of music wafted through the crack between the swinging doors. Cordelia frowned upon hearing them. The music lacked the beat of Buffy's aerobicizing accompaniment and the snob appeal of Giles' classical tastes. <What's going on?> Xander knelt down and shuffled forward soundlessly, motioning for her to follow him. Slowly, carefully, he inched the left door open a few centimeters...and a few centimeters more. He pressed his eye up against the newly created gap, and Cordelia, curious, followed his lead. The sight that met her eyes was inexplicable, and she barely remembered to stifle her automatic gasp. Giles and Buffy were dancing in the library - and not cotillion dancing, the only way Cordelia would have imagined Giles knew how - but *sexy* dancing, with hands and fingers and *mouths* everywhere, and no daylight to be seen between them... Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, but the picture remained the same. Buffy was frenching the librarian. <Wow!> Giles knew more about kissing than she ever would have dreamed. Xander's pinch brought her out of her reverie, and they made their way back down the hallway. Cordelia managed to hold her tongue until they'd actually exited the school building. "What was *THAT*?" she burst out incredulously the moment the door swung shut behind them. "Buffy-... Giles-..." she sputtered. "Buffy and *Giles*?!?" Xander collapsed on one of the benches that lined the sidewalk to the front entrance. He nodded grimly. "Buffy and Giles," he confirmed, closing his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his neck tiredly. "God, Cordy. What am I going to do?"

Buffy could feel the heat burning through her body as she and Giles swayed back and forth to the music from the radio. They'd long ago given up any pretense at dance steps or rhythm, in favor of clinging to one another as though their two bodies were fused into one being. She felt an ache between her legs radiating outward and upward, filling her with a yearning to get even closer to him, as close as two people could possibly be. "Giles..." she murmured longingly, nuzzling his neck.

"Buffy," he replied in an aching voice. "It's not safe to do this here..." The protest was faint, but not halfhearted. Giles was all too aware of the dangers they faced if they were discovered.

"Everyone's gone," she whispered persuasively. "We could go into your office..."

"We made ground rules," he objected plaintively, nevertheless allowing her to pull him along in her wake. She paused momentarily to snag the radio and grinned at him over her shoulder.

"We made those rules after a quickie on your desk during my lunch hour," she reminded him saucily. "And as much fun as it was, I think the rule against that one's gonna have to stand - though the odds against an actual student using the library are pretty long." Her grin widened wickedly. "But this situation is *nothing* like that one, babe, so follow me."

Giles stepped inside the office and shut the door behind them, the audible clicking of the lock a nonverbal acquiescence to her point. "If you insist," he replied, the martyr quality of his put-upon tone spoiled by the heightened color in his cheeks.

She pulled him toward her for a quick, hard kiss, then licked her lips provocatively. "Oh, I do, Giles. I really, really do..." She placed the radio on a spare corner of the desk and slipped off her spaghetti strap sandals, stepping toward him on bare feet.

Giles reached out to trail suggestive fingers down her bare arm, smiling slightly at the track of goosebumps created in the wake of his touch. "Shall we try the desk again?" he murmured huskily, his eyes glinting with humor and desire. "Or would you prefer the couch?"

Buffy glanced askance at both surfaces, which were piled high with precarious stacks of old books. "Aren't you worried about messing up your filing system?"

His callused palm caressed her breast through the thin silk of her halter, and she drew in a ragged breath. "I'll risk it," he whispered, leaning down to give her a slow, drugging kiss.

When they drew apart, they were both breathing heavily. "I have an idea," Buffy said. She took both of his hands and led him over to the chair behind the desk - it was old, armless, and padded, a concession to Giles' tendency to have accidents with more modern rolling office equipment. It fitted Buffy's image of him - somewhat battered and careworn, but unbowed. <Though not sexy,> she thought merrily, <which Giles most definitely *is*.>

"Buffy?" he questioned, a note of amusement in his tone.

"Sit here," she commanded, pointing at the chair. She bit back a snort of amusement as he did what he was told, scooting the chair back from behind the desk and gazing up at her expectantly. The dynamics of their personal relationship differed somewhat from their Watcher/Slayer connection - when they were alone, Giles was more than willing to follow her lead. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it quite a lot.

Buffy stood in front of him, arms akimbo. "You *did* say you liked my new outfit, didn't you?" she murmured, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

Giles nodded, swallowing audibly.

She leaned forward slightly, giving him a good view of her cleavage. She licked her lips again, and watched his eyes widen. "Would you like to see what's underneath it?"

He smiled and nodded again, reaching up to encircle her waist with his hands. He cocked an eyebrow, asking permission, and when she grinned he took hold of the bottom of the halter and drew the silky material upward. His breath caught in his throat as he pulled it over her head, thus revealing that what she wore underneath...was nothing. Her breasts, freed from their minimal confinement, bobbed deliciously before him, and he brought his hands up to caress and pinch them gently. Buffy moaned low in her throat, swaying toward him, and he captured one rosy peak with his lips. "Ahhh... Giles..."

He devoured her creamy skin with his mouth and his tongue, leaving no portion of her chest untouched. She was writhing beneath his hands, straining to lean closer, until finally the position became too awkward and she had to break away. They stared into each other's eyes as the fires of desire flamed into an inferno. Buffy's hands went to the catch at the waistband of her skirt, and it fell to the floor, revealing that she wore as little underneath that garment as she had the other. Giles automatically pressed his palm to the curls between her legs, and Buffy's back arched as if a bolt of electricity slammed through her body. "*Giles*!" she cried. The moist heat of her center seared his hand, and she suddenly came against him, whimpering his name. It took long moments before her breathing calmed and she opened her eyes. Her grin was smugly self-satisfied. "I guess you *did* like my outfit."

Giles growled and pulled her toward him, his hand still caressing her intimately, and she obligingly straddled his lap, pulling his lips to hers for a carnal kiss. She felt incredibly decadent, sitting completely naked in the lap of her clothed lover, the moisture of her orgasm dripping down her thighs. She could feel him through the rough material of his pants, straining against confinement. "It's your turn," she muttered against his lips, her breath catching as his dexterous fingers probed inward. "No," she chuckled softly. "Not yet." She was determined to return to him at least a portion of the pleasure he'd given her. She reached down between her legs and fumbled with his zipper, finally pulling it down only to meet the barrier of his underwear. She sighed deep in her throat as her fingers finally found him through the gap in their material. "Thank God for boxer shorts," she chuckled a bit unsteadily. Giles' only response was a low, heartfelt moan as she freed him, allowing the chill air of the office to meet his heated skin.

She hooked her feet on the sidebars of the chair and raised up in his lap, pressing his face against her breasts as she positioned herself over him. Slowly she impaled herself upon him, biting her lip to keep from crying out as he filled her to overflowing. He'd never been so deep before, and the pleasure had never been so achingly exquisite.

"Ride me," he whispered into her ear before kissing her nearly senseless. She rotated her hips experimentally and was rewarded by a shimmering starburst of pleasure. His callused hands caressed her sensitive breasts - the moist slap of skin and cloth repeated as she obeyed his command to her utmost ability. They were close, she could feel it, and then they both came at once, as Giles' life streamed into her and the starbursts became supernovae inside her mind. He lifted her up one last time and she slammed down onto him, impaled so deeply that she felt as though he'd never truly leave her ever again.

Cordelia glared daggers at Xander as she paced back and forth down the sidewalk. "I can't believe you knew about this and didn't tell me!"

Xander winced at her heated tone. "I didn't want to believe it, all right?" he replied in a tired voice. "I wanted to believe it was some kind of mistake, a temporary demonic- possession type thing."

She eyed him suspiciously. "Just how *did* you find out, anyway?"

His face flushed, and he averted his gaze, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the door. "Like that." He swallowed uneasily. "Only worse."

Cordelia raised her eyebrows. "Worse?" Comprehension dawned. "*Oh*!" <So this is why he's been a member of the zone patrol...> She regarded him uncertainly. "Are you gonna tell Buffy that you know?"

"No!" He sounded terrified at the prospect.

"Then are you gonna tell Giles?" she persisted.

Xander rolled his eyes and stood up from the bench. "Yeah, right. What good would that do? He's probably all proud that he bagged his Slayer. Maybe he even gets little extra Watcher- points for it."

"Giles isn't like that," Cordelia protested, but she sounded more than a little doubtful. "And I mean, if they both *want* to..." <And it seems *really* obvious that they do...>

"She's seventeen years old, Cordelia!" Xander retorted. "And he's-...he's *not*!"

"*I'm* seventeen," she reminded him. "Are you saying that if I want to have sex with you, someone has the right to say I can't?"

Momentarily distracted from his train of thought by the only thing that could possibly have accomplished it, Xander turned to look at her, his breath catching in his throat. "Do you?" he squeaked.

Cordelia stared at him a moment, then shook her head slightly, but it was more a sign of confusion than a negative answer. "Um, problem at hand, Xander? Let's do Hormones on Parade later, 'kay? What are we going to do?"

Xander caught his girlfriend in a hug, suddenly grateful for the warmth of her embrace. Her use of the word 'we' raised his spirits immeasurably, even though he found her question unanswerable. "I don't know, Cordy. I don't know."

"Mmmrmph," Buffy said into Giles' neck as she slowly came back to herself. She could taste the salty sweat of his skin against her lips, and she gave him an experimental lick. "Mmmm...tasty." He shifted slightly in the chair, sending motes of pleasure through her limbs in response. He was still imbedded deep within her, lax now with spent passion, but it still gave her a delicious feeling of completeness. His hands roamed up and down her back, caressing her soft, bare skin. "I could stay here forever," she whispered.

"As could I," he agreed, his embrace tightening momentarily. "I love you, Buffy."

She felt a little thrill go through her, the same thrill she'd felt each of the precious few times he'd said those words to her. Their relationship was still too new for her to take those feelings for granted - if indeed she ever would, which was doubtful. She couldn't imagine that statement not affecting her deeply, no matter how many times she heard it. She pulled away a little, meeting his serious gaze with one of her own. "I love you, too, Giles," she vowed, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.

As if their words were a cue, she could feel the stirrings of reigniting passion from him. "Again?" she chuckled softly.

He smiled down at her, cupping his hands beneath her firm, smooth buttocks and levering himself up from the chair. The sudden movement caught her by surprise, and she clung to him, wrapping her legs around his waist to ensure he didn't slip from her body. He staggered over to the couch and used one hand to sweep the stacks of books onto the floor. "Damn my filing system," he muttered as they fell down on top of the cushions, with her on the bottom, their bodies still intimately joined. The jolt sent a shock of pleasure clear through her.

"I couldn't agree more," she concurred huskily as she pulled his lips to hers, her fingers tearing at the buttons on his shirt. Soon they were once again lost in a stormy sea of passion.

"This place is really dead tonight," Buffy commented, smiling at Giles' heartfelt groan over her horrible pun. They were sitting in the cemetery - had been there for almost two hours, in fact - waiting for the dead to rise. She just hoped they would show before Letterman started, as John Cusack was a scheduled guest. She glanced over at Giles' handsome face and smiled to herself - <I may have a honey, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a good Cusack moment...>

Giles shifted uncomfortably on top of the headstone he'd appropriated as a chair. "I saw nothing while you were patrolling," he agreed, "but it's better-"

"To be safe than sorry," she chimed in, grinning as he frowned at her. "I know, and I'm not complaining, but I could think of a million other things I'd rather be doing tonight than this." <Like, A) watching John, and B) jumping your bones, preferably in that order...> For a moment, she idly considered the possibility that she was becoming a nympho, then discarded the idea. <Nah. It's just Giles that does it to me.>

Giles coughed as his eyebrows flew upward. "Oh? Like what?"

Buffy laughed at the flush that arose in his cheeks. <So you think you know what I'm thinking, do you? Well, that *is* what I'm thinking, but I'm not gonna tell *you* that's what I'm thinking.> "Yes, *oh*. Like watching Oz's band at the Bronze, for instance. They're supposed to debut a new song tonight - Oz wrote it in honor of Willow. She's gonna go *so* nonverbal." She grinned happily at the thought of her friend's probable reaction.

Giles regarded her with some surprise. "Why didn't you tell me, Buffy? I would have been happy to-"

"It's not your job, Giles," Buffy reminded him, giving him a lopsided grin. "Me Slay, You Watch...Me Slay - remember?" <I won't ever let you put yourself in danger for me again...>

The very idea scared her bloodless.

Giles stood up and walked over next to the low stone wall upon which she sat. He placed a hand on her shoulder, warming her through the thin material of her jacket. "That doesn't mean that you can't take an occasional night off with your friends for a special occasion. You *are* the person, are you not, who lectured me on the advisability of actually *having* a life?" His lip quirked with ironic humor, as if to say, <and thank you very much for providing me with one...>

"I know, I know," she replied, directing him to the spot next to her with the tip of her stake. "But it's more of an Oz'n'Will moment than an Oz'n'Will'n'Buffy moment. She'll give me the blow by blow tomorrow, anyway, every Ozzy second of it. And Oz promised me a tape of the song."

"Xander and Cordelia aren't attending?" he inquired as he dusted off the stones and sat down next to her.

She frowned and shrugged. "You got me. Xander and Cordy have suddenly taken up residence in the Twilight Zone. I have no idea what's going on with either of them, and until someone fesses up, I really don't want to spend an evening watching them stare at me like I've grown a third eye or something."

"How odd," he commented, though his tone clearly indicated that he felt strange behavior was par for the course for those two. "But, Buffy, you must promise to tell me if you feel you need to take an evening off. There are always ways to work something out - especially when things are slow, as they have been lately."

"Yeah...why is that?" she wondered aloud, leaning against the solid bulk of his chest. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Is the Hellmouth the 'out' neighborhood for the undead this month?"

A small furrow marred his brow. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "Certain signs would seem to indicate that the lull in vampiric activity is a natural occurrence...but something about it frankly bothers me." His arm tightened around her.

<Oy...*Not* good....> "You'll figure it out," she assured him, snuggling closer. "No job is too big for the Bookman."

He smiled, dropping a kiss on top of her head, and they returned to scanning the twilight for creatures of the night.

Cordelia and Xander walked a few paces behind Oz and Willow, who were managing a complicated three-legged progression down the cement sidewalk, their arms wrapped around one another.

"It was a cool song, wasn't it?" Cordelia commented, her tone slightly tinged with envy as she observed Oz and Willow's obvious closeness.

"Yeah," Xander admitted reluctantly. "I guess it didn't oversuck. Will really seems to like him, in spite of the doghair."

Cordelia rolled her eyes and nudged him with one shoulder. "Listen to you! Tell me, would *anyone* be good enough for Buffy or Willow in your reality? You sound like my *Dad* when he talks about *you*!"

Xander jammed his hands into his jacket pockets and hunched his shoulders. "Well, *sorry*! I happen to think they can do better, all right? Will deserves someone who doesn't need a flea dip once a month, and Buffy deserves someone who wasn't ringside for the amazing invention of the wheel!"

Cordelia grabbed Xander's hand and jerked him to a halt. Willow and Oz continued onward, oblivious, as blazing hazel eyes met his and narrowed angrily. "Look, Xander, what happens to Oz is *not* his fault, and if Willow can deal, it's really none of your business. And getting in the way of the Watcher and the Slayer is the surest way I know to get your butt kicked clear to China. Why can't you just stay out of it?"

"Stay out of it?" he repeated incredulously. "Okay, Oz and Will I'll grant you, but Giles and Buffy? What happened to 'We have to do something!'? That was *you* who said that, wasn't it? Or was I speaking to your not-so-evil twin?"

She averted her gaze. "I just...I've been thinking, that's all. I mean, when I saw them in the library, I automatically thought - well, 'EWWW' - you know, what else? But, maybe- ...maybe it's not so strange, what they're doing. You have to admit, they aren't your normal Jerry Springer student-teacher combo."

"I know," he returned. "They're *worse*! She depends on him for *everything*, Cordy. He's got control of practically her whole life now!"

She frowned doubtfully, considering his words. "You think he's somehow forcing her to do this?"

Xander rubbed his hand through his hair, frustrated. "Yes!- ...No. Oh, I don't know. All I know is, *he's* supposed to watch, and *she's* supposed to slay, and they *aren't* supposed to have wild monkey sex in his backyard! It's-" A muted yell rent the air, and his eyes went wide. "That's *Willow*!"

Together, they turned and raced in the direction of the sound. Rounding a corner they found Oz and Willow in the midst of a battle with four very ugly vamps. Willow was holding one at bay with a squirt gun full of Holy Water, while Oz demonstrated that his feral instincts weren't entirely submerged twenty-eight days of the month by growling and swiping at his two attackers. They stared dumbly down at him, wondering just what manner of human they'd managed to waylay. The fourth vamp was edging around behind Willow, trying to catch her off guard.

"Oh, no, you don't," Xander muttered, leaping into the fray, stake in hand. The fourth vamp was vampire dust before he knew what hit him. Willow hit the bulls-eye on her own adversary, and while he clutched at his burning eyes, howling with pain, she extracted a stake from her sleeve and dispatched him neatly.

Cordelia, who eschewed stakes generally as a 'fashion- don't', had managed to brain one of Oz's attackers over the head with a handy rock. Oz tackled the other one to the ground, and the duo rolled over and over in the dust, fighting for the upper hand. Xander danced back and forth behind them, trying to inveigle a good opening through which to dart in and deliver the coup de stake, but they were moving too quickly for him to intervene.

"Here," Willow called, tossing her squirt-gun to Cordelia, who caught it and brought it up in one smooth motion, drilling her dazed opponent between the eyes. Willow took advantage of his pained confusion and staked him from behind. They both jumped back, trying to avoid the inevitable gritty fallout.

"Stake!" Oz called gruffly, as he managed to momentarily pin his opponent against the dirt. Xander obliged him, and the final unlucky vampire met his fate.

As Oz stood up and dusted himself off, Willow pulled him into a giddy hug. "We are *so* the Slaying Squad," she laughed happily. "You were great!"

Oz smiled into her eyes. "Me? You have *aim*!" They grinned goofily at one another for a moment, before turning in unison to face Cordelia and Xander. "And you guys are, like, the kings of good timing," Oz added graciously.

"Yeah," Xander muttered as he stared angrily down at the pile of vampire remains. Cordelia watched him, her expression decidedly worried.

Oz and Willow were oblivious to their upset. "Well, they probably don't have friends hanging around, but we'd better go just in case," the redhead told her boyfriend. She frowned, struck by a thought. "Do you think vampires can have friends? 'Cause they're demons, and demons aren't much for friendly..." Oz shrugged and slipped an arm around her shoulders. They set off down the street, conversing softly, once more lost in their own little world.

Xander looked up and met Cordelia's gaze, and only then did he voice the question paramount on both of their minds. His tone was low, angry and dark with betrayal.

"Where the *HELL* was Buffy?"

The school building was virtually deserted when Xander arrived at the ungodly hour of 8 o'clock on Saturday morning, ostensibly for a scheduled computer tutorial. His true mission, however, was a confrontation with Buffy, and he therefore made his way to the library, instead of Ms. Calendar's classroom.

He entered to find Buffy seated at one of the library tables, an English text and spiral notebook open before her. She appeared to be reading the book, though the sight was so incongruous Xander blinked twice to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. She was dressed in a tank top and a pair of gym shorts, dilapidated sneakers on her feet and a ponytail in her hair. She looked entirely too chipper for the early hour.

"Buffy," he greeted her, dragging around the chair across from her to straddle it.

She glanced up and grinned at him. "Hey, Xand! What brings you to the hallowed halls of learning this early in the a.m.? I thought you had a rule about sleeping in on the weekends."

"I thought you did, too," he pointed out with some asperity.

She laughed and clapped her book shut. "Nope! Ah, Xand, there are *so* many things you still don't know about the art of slayage - one of them being you are never allowed more than six hours of sleep per night. Giles scheduled weapons practice for me this morning."

His expression soured. <Yeah, I'll bet - I know *exactly* what he wants to practice...> "So where *is* our sainted librarian?"

Her gaze narrowed a bit at his truculent tone, but she merely shrugged. "Well, uh, he and Ms. Calendar had a bit of a disagreement, and he's trying to iron it out before her remedial student - meaning *you*, I suppose - shows up. It's no biggie."

"Trouble in paradise?" he wondered sarcastically.

She didn't meet his gaze. "Oh, you know," she replied airily. "Things just didn't work out, let's be friends, yadda, yadda...I don't think she's really his type."

Xander leaned forward. "And what type would *that* be?"

Her cheeks reddened slightly, but when she looked up and her eyes met his, she radiated innocent sincerity. "Well, Xander, how would *I* know? It's not exactly something they cover in the Slayer handbook, even if I did have a copy."

<She's lying - and she's doing it so well I would believe her...if I didn't know the truth.> That realization led to a rage of a degree he'd never felt before with regard to his friend, and he had to resist mightily the urge to shove her deceit in her face. But she was Buffy, one of his two best friends in all the world, and he owed it to her to give her every chance to come clean. He swallowed his anger and pasted a concerned expression across his face. "Is everything all right, Buffy?"

The abrupt change in subject made her blink. "What?" She licked her lips nervously. "Everything's fine, Xander. Everything's great, actually. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I don't know," he muttered, leaning toward her so a possibly lurking Giles couldn't overhear. "I thought you might be bummed about losing deadboy."

Her eyebrows flew upward. "Angel? Why in the world would you think that?"

He rolled his eyes. "Um, because he was, like, the only thing on your mind for month after endless month, maybe? Geez, Buffy, you were gone on him for over a year, and suddenly the great romance is over? Why *wouldn't* I think you'd be upset."

She looked chagrined. "Oh. Well, when you put it that way..." She averted her gaze and shrugged. "Angel and I just weren't meant to be, I guess. What, am I supposed to sign up for nun school now?"

Xander clenched his teeth. "Not meant to be, huh? You mean, like Giles and Ms. Calendar." <Direct hit,> he thought, as she winced perceptibly.

But Buffy rallied quickly. "Exactly!" she exclaimed. "We all can't be paired as perfectly as you and Cordy, Xander. Some things are against all natural law."

His cheeks darkened with frustration. <You can say *that* again.> "So is that what you guys were doing last night?" he asked, trying to keep his tone nonchalant. "Sitting here in the library, Watcher/Slayer bonding over old books and lost loves?"

She eyed him strangely. "No. We were patrolling - I told you we would be. That's why I didn't show for Willow's song at the Bronze, remember? How'd that go, by the way? Was she, like, totally nonverbal?"

<She's trying to change the subject...> "It was fine," he muttered shortly, "if that's your idea of music. Me, I prefer something with a beat...and notes...and words. But enough about that, tell me about all the vamps you slayed."

She studied his face for a moment, her expression indescribable. "No vamps," she stated finally, shrugging. "No demons or werewolves, either, Ozzian or otherwise. Just another boring night wandering the streets."

He regarded her with disbelief, completed floored by her continued obfuscation. "Not one vamp," he repeated dully.

She shook her head. "Nope - we might as well have skipped patrolling all together, for all the action we've seen lately. Giles says it's like the undead are on vacation. Hasn't been a good ghost or ghoulie for days. He's actually worried about it." She leaned back in her chair, tipping it up on the two back legs. "Me, I'll just take it as it comes."

<Willow and Cordelia could have *died* last night!> Xander thought, stunned and beyond angry. <And Giles is telling her the vamps are at Disneyland?!? Just to get a little sex from his Slayer?> He glared down at her, his expression hardening. "You're *wrong*, Buffy."

She cocked her head to one side. "Wrong 'bout what?"

His lips curled. "The vamps aren't on vacation - but if you'd really been patrolling last night you would have *known* that. Four of the Hellmouth's finest ambushed us on the way home from the Bronze."

She shot up out of her chair, panic in her eyes. "What?!? Willow, Oz..." She swallowed thickly. "...Cordelia...?"

"They're fine," he spat. "No thanks to you and your Watcher. *Luckily* we weren't depending on you doing your duty to save us."

She blinked, stepping back slightly, stunned by the vitriol in his voice. Her mouth opened, then closed, as she stared at him wordlessly.

"That's *enough", Xander!" came a sharp exclamation from the doorway. "You have no *right* to speak to Buffy in that manner!"

He spun around to glare at Giles. "No *right*?!? We were almost *killed* last night, Giles!"

The older man stepped across the floor to stand behind Buffy, stopping short of sliding a protective arm around her shoulders - but Xander could tell that he wanted to do so. "Buffy is the Slayer," Giles began in a tightly controlled voice. "She is neither superhuman nor omniscient, and she is hardly to blame for the fact that vampires will attack anyone at any time. That is simply their nature, which you know very well. What were *you* doing out without protection, Xander? Buffy can hardly be held responsible for your poor judgment!" His voice rose with each successive sentence until Buffy was moved to lay a quelling hand on his arm.

"It's *okay*, Giles," she murmured soothingly, smiling reassuringly up at him. "Xander's just upset." She turned to look at Xander, and the expression of sympathetic understanding on her face nearly turned his stomach.

<I would have believed her before today,> he thought angrily. <I would have bought all her lies, hook, line, and sinker. And maybe it isn't any of my business what she and Giles do in the bedroom...or the library...or his backyard... But when she stops doing her sacred duty, people get hurt. People die...> He closed his eyes, hearing the terror of Willow's scream and seeing Cordelia's panicked face. <*They* could have been *killed*...> He opened his eyes and glared fiercely at Giles. "I thought you were supposed to *guide* her," he spat angrily, disillusionment darkening his tone. "I thought you were supposed to make sure she does what has to be done. How can you do this? How can you risk *everything*? Don't you care about *anyone* but yourself?"

A glimmer of confusion flickered on Giles' face, before Xander's implied criticism of her Watcher hit Buffy. "Don't you dare attack him, Xander!" she hissed, and it was Giles who held *her* back this time. "He's the best Watcher in the *history* of Watchers!"

Xander regarded her incredulously. "I don't believe this! He's got you totally snowed, hasn't he? Whatever he says, whatever he wants, you go along with it like he's *God* or something! Can't you see what he's doing to you, Buffy?"

Buffy glared at Xander coldly. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about. You don't even have a clue." Her shoulders were shaking with repressed rage. "I want you to leave. I want you to leave *right*now*!"

Giles' hands gripped Buffy's trembling arms, his fingers gentle but firm. "I think that would be best, Xander," he agreed in a firm tone. It was more of an order than a request.

"I don't *care* what you think," Xander snapped back. "And this *isn't* over! Not by a longshot!" He stalked toward the door, pushing it open with so much force that it ricocheted against the outside wall with a resounding crash.

Buffy and Giles stared after him with identical dumbfounded expressions. "What-" Buffy stuttered, "-what *was* that?"

"I don't know," Giles murmured, sliding his arm around to gather her into a comforting embrace. "But I'm sure he didn't mean it, Buffy. You know how much Xander values your friendship."

She circled his back with her arms and hugged him tightly. "I've never *seen* him like that, Giles. He was looking at me like he *hated* me."

"Actually," Giles replied ruefully, "he seemed more angry at *me* than anyone. Perhaps he feels I should have been able to predict the attack last night."

Buffy looked up at him, meeting his gaze squarely. "That's nuts, Giles...and Xander knows it." She glanced over at the swinging doors. "I don't know - can guys have PMS?"

He groaned softly, stroking her hair. "Not that I'm aware of."

Buffy hugged him tighter, grinning impishly. "Well, maybe he's a little testy because he and Cordy had a fight and he's going through smoochie-withdrawal."

Giles winced and closed his eyes. "Ugh...I really didn't need that mental picture, Buffy."

She smiled up at him, determinedly dismissing Xander's bizarre behavior from her mind. She refused to sully their precious private time together with Slayer business. "How about this one?" she purred, standing on tiptoe to give him a slow, sensuous kiss.

"Much better," he murmured thickly as he pulled her body flush against his. His hands trailed down her back to cup her buttocks. She leaned into him, unconsciously thrusting her pelvis toward him, and he let out a heartfelt groan.

Xander leaned around the door, his face a mask of disgust when he saw what they were doing. <They've already forgotten everything I said to them,> he realized. <There's nothing to keep it from happening again and again...and next time, someone could die...>

Buffy and Giles were oblivious to the presence of their peeping tom. "You ready to get out of here?" Buffy whispered into his ear.

"I'm going to regret letting you plan our agenda today, aren't I?"

"Oh, I don't know - there are a lot of interesting possibilities..." Buffy trailed her fingers down Giles' chest. "Mom's on her buying trip until Monday. Unfortunately, she's begun to call me at all hours to make sure I'm not getting into trouble, so I have to spend the night at the house." She played with the buttons of his shirt. "But I don't have to spend the night alone..."

Giles began to shake his head. "That's not a good idea, Buff-" She cut him off with another kiss, and after a few moments, he chuckled breathlessly in surrender. "All right, you win. Let's go."

Xander watched them exit the library from his vantage point down the hall, unseen by both in their haste to leave the building. <That's it!> he thought, bone-deep disillusionment having driven him to the breaking point. <I have to do something about this...right *now*!>

Jennie Calendar studied the program worksheet in front of her with unseeing eyes as her mind kept returning to her earlier conversation with Rupert. Something about it was nagging at her; their discussion had, on the face of it, been quite unremarkable - a typical exchange for two recently broken-up people, trying to salvage whatever remnants of friendship that they could. But he had been nervous all out of proportion to the situation, and surprisingly touchy about queries on the present state of his love life. She hadn't really believed that he'd broken up with her because he'd fallen for someone else, but now she was beginning to wonder.

Her ruminations were interrupted by the opening of the classroom door. Xander Harris poked his head in, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face - he appeared almost anxious as he darted a swift, nervous peek back down the hallway. "Ms. Calendar, do you have a minute? I have something I need to tell you...

The End

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