Carpe Diem - The Novel Version: Part 3
by Gaius Petronius



Carpe Diem, pt 3



CARPE DIEM - Part 3

by
Gaius Petronius

Chapter 9 - " . . . maybe only an hour or a week . .
."

DISCLAIMER:
All the characters of BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, Fox and Mutant
Enemy and not me. I only borrow them, mess with their heads, make
them cry and, once in a while, torture them.
The Ancient One is loosely derived from the Cthulhu Mythos stories
of the classic 20th century horror writer, H. P. Lovecraft.

Spoilers and Synopsis:
Originally written as a script in mid season 2 (Jan - March 1998)
just after Angel lost his soul. Willow accidently reanimates an
eighteen year old telekinetic from the seventeenth century, Johannes
Martel who may hold the secred to restoring a vampire's lost soul.

A Note On the Text:
The plot for the original script version of Carpe Diem was drafted
in mid season two before Angel's age and the relationship with
Dru and Spike were fully developed. The dating in this story and
their backgrounds, as a result, are a departure from BtVS canon.



Rating: PG-13 for some violence, language and a racy scene.

* * * * * *

So here she was again. Willow realized she was spending a lot
of time over the past few mornings on the steps of Sunnydale High
pondering the start of each new day and once more, today seemed
no different. The crowds of students, the lines of cars, the muttered
conversations about homework assignments not completed, who was
going out with whom and who was actually doing "it."
Maybe another Sunnydale student disappeared in some particularly
gruesome fashion last night as well on his or her way home from
the Bronze.

Same ol', same ol' as everyone always said. But just like yesterday,
Willow realized this morning was also different. Twenty-four hours
ago there was a "new" Scooby. This morning there might
be a new relationship. All the signs from last night pointed that
way.

As if drawn by some sympathetic telepathy absorbed from their
new telekinetic member, the Scooby Gang, Willow, Xander, Oz and
Cordelia (although she always disavowed membership) met together
on the front steps in an informal "Relationship Conference."
Everyone saw what happened last night between Buffy and Jonathan.
This morning they all assembled to swoop down on the Slayer and
extract every drop of information they could squeeze out of her.
Buffy Summers, Slayer, destroyer of the Master, the Judge and
numerous other entities, and demons, was no match for the interrogation
she was about to undergo from the excited and ruthless Scoobies.

"Now don't everybody make fun of Buffy when she gets here,"
Willow said over her shoulder, her remarks directed particularly
at Xander.

"Why not?" her childhood bud exclaimed, relishing
the thought of extorting each minute detail from last night's
encounter on the front porch, "It isn't everyday you can
tease a Slayer and not get punched out!"

"And what makes you think you won't get punched out?"
Cordelia announced with worldly wisdom.

"Good point," Xander agreed, his mind searching for
various means of prying information out of Buffy, "But I
just have to make sure this guy is okay for Buffy."

"The Xander seal of approval," Oz nodded sagely,
oblivious to the crowds of students surging by.

"Right. Remember," Xander countered, "I was
the only one who said Angel was bad news."

Cordelia rolled her eyes in response to her boyfriend's ballooning
ego.

"How could we ever forget!" she exclaimed.

"For Johno, I'll make an exception," Xander continued,
"Big guy like him with milk running out his nose, that's
cool!" Cordelia almost uttered her favorite vocabulary word
again as Xander revisited the image of yesterday's ill fated lunch
hour.

"Uh oh, here she comes," Willow said, spying the
Summers' SUV, "Now everybody shut up and don't embarrass
her!"

Joyce Summers maneuvered the hulking vehicle up to the curb.
Immediately Buffy hopped out into the brilliant southern California
morning sunshine. She smiled as she headed for the collected Scoobies
and there was a bounce in her step.

"Bye, Mom!" she called out not looking back.

Now she broke into a run up the steps of Sunnydale High.

"Oh my God, she's smiling," Xander announced with
mock concern just before Buffy got within earshot, "This
is serious."

"Hi gang, what's up? . . ." Buffy stopped and stared
at her friends. Every one was grinning. Finally Willow couldn't
control herself any longer and giggled.

"What!? Were you guys spying on us last night?!"

"Oh no," Xander chuckled, "Our binoculars just
happened to turn to your front door. The tracking system is activated
by steam!"

"Oh, Buffy, he's so nice," Willow said warmly, "And
you're smiling."

"Yeah, that is slightly different these days," Cordelia
agreed with rare sincerity.

"This is just like a fairy tale, all cute and perfect,"
Xander nodded as he waved his hand at each of his friends, "Willow
has Oz, her wolfman."

"Grrrrr," Oz growled quietly as his arm magically
appeared across Willow's shoulder in a protective embrace.

"Down, Rover," Xander quipped as he turned to Buffy,
"Now Smiley here has her wizard."

"Watch your mouth or he'll turn you into a toad!"
Buffy waggled her finger back as if casting a spell.

"I wish he would!" Cordelia responded almost seriously,
"Definitely an improvement over the frog he already is."

The good feelings on the relationship front was such a rare
event over the past weeks that Willow got carried away.

"And Xander has . . . Cordelia," she announced but
suddenly shriveled in embarrassment, "Uh, I'm sorry. I just
meant that we all had . . ."

"That's okay, Sears Girl," Cordelia said rising to
the occasion and giving Xander a seductive gaze as she ever so
slightly thrust her chest out, "I can cast spells with the
best of them!"

". . . Uhh. . . ." Xander stuttered as his eyes froze
on the most prominent part of Cordelia's anatomy.

"Where's Jonathan?" Buffy asked a little nervously
as she glanced around the steps.

"In the library," Willow said, "He and Giles
got here early."

"Okay, see ya," Buffy announced, reassured and bounded
up the steps through the front door, heading for the library.

* * * * *

In the library at a table up behind the stacks, Jonathan sat
pouring over books piled up all around him.

"Any luck?" Giles asked as he approached the table.
Under his arm he clutched several more worn volumes.

"No," the telekinetic responded despondently, "Just
the same passages requoted by a different author."

"Any more . . ." Giles paused for a moment, "
. . . episodes . . . since last night?"

"No," Jonathan slapped the book in front of him shut
and leaned back in the chair. He rubbed his hands across his face
as if the action could somehow massage more energy into his exhausted
features, "That new spell seems to have arrested the draining
of energy . . . or whatever is happening."

At the same time, Buffy came bouncing in through the library
doors. She stopped before the check out desk at the sound of Giles
and Jonathan who didn't realize she was in the room. Her stomach
tightened up as she listened, picking up the disturbing tone in
their voices.

"How long do you think you have before the spell collapses
again?" Giles asked.

"No way to tell," Jonathan replied shaking his head,
"Could be an hour, a week, a month. I could drop and turn
to dust right now."

The smile vanished from Buffy's face. She felt her insides
leap at his words as if she had suddenly gone over a quick bump
in the road in Cordelia's speeding convertible. Buffy wanted to
speak, to cry out. She almost broke in on the conversation, but
held back, listening.

"What about putting down the Ancient One tonight?"
Giles continued, his voice laced with concern.

"What about it?" Jonathan, his face now etched with
lines in the subdued library lighting, looked up at the Watcher,
"I don't have much choice, do I."

"No, I suppose not," Giles agreed.

"Thank God Buffy's going to be there," Jonathan sighed
and Buffy drank in all the emotions concealed in his words, "I
couldn't pull this off without her. I don't think I could deal
with any . . . of this," his voice trailed off as he waved
a hand at the prison like walls and stacks around him.

"We all tend to rely on her a lot," Giles said, realizing
he had just won the Sunnydale Understatement of the Year Award.

"Shouldn't be bad, though," Jonathan muttered as
his ran his hand across his high forehead, "If there are
only three vampires that are a real threat, we'll be okay. As
long as we can target them before they complete the raising."

"Don't underestimate these three," Giles warned,
"They destroyed the Anointed One. The one Buffy was involved
with, Angel, is particularly malevolent."

The name cut through the library like the swishing fall of
a guillotine blade. Jonathan stared in shock up at Giles.

"Angel? . . .Angelus?!" he stammered having heard
the name now for the first time in the New World.

Buffy suppressed a gasp as she listened.

"Yes," Giles answered in surprise, "You've heard
of him?"

Buffy's eyes widened with horror as Jonathan spoke. She felt
her world crumbling and outside she knew night had arrived despite
the morning sun.

"Angelus, The Fiend?" Jonathan snarled, "Angelus,
the Butcher? He harvested my fiance, the Princess Drusilla!"

"Drusilla . . . oh God, no. . ." Giles sat down as
if his legs had suddenly given out beneath him.

"What?" Jonathan asked in surprise at the Watcher's
reaction.

"It must be the same one," Giles muttered with mounting
horror as he faced Jonathan, "She's here with him . . .with
Angel and a third, Spike . . . William the Bloody. They're the
ones we're up against."

"Angelus is the one Buffy wants . . .?" Jonathan
exclaimed, trying in his mind to deny what his senses had just
heard.

Buffy couldn't hold back any longer. She had to rush in, to
stop the last two days from disintegrating, and especially salvage
something from last night.

"Jonathan, no!" she shouted pleading with him, "Let
me explain!"

"You want me to restore . . . Angelus?!" he almost
cursed her.

"Jonathan, please!"

"You love Angelus?!" he shook his head in disbelief
now not caring whether the spell keeping him there collapsed or
not.

"No! . . . " she suddenly exclaimed, her blue eyes
locking on his and silently screaming things he instantly understood.

"I love you!" Buffy blurted out.

There was an instant of silence. Realizing what she had said,
Buffy turned and ran wildly from the library. Jonathan stood astonished
for a moment. Trembling, he called out after her.

"No! Buffy, wait!"

The door to the library slammed shut before he could finish
the three words. She was gone. In a fury, Jonathan slammed his
fist on the library table. The loud bang was quickly followed
by a howl of pain and a torrent of profanity in several different
languages as Jonathan swayed back and forth clutching his sore
hand. Giles' face turned bright red.

Suddenly Jonathan rose and was about to go after Buffy, but
Giles caught him by the arm and restrained him.

"You better stay," the Watcher said gently, "If
it were anyone else, I'd say go, but Buffy, . . . when she's upset,
she tends to be . . . volatile. She'll be back."

Jonathan dropped into the chair and, leaning over the desk
amidst the now useless books, buried his face in hands.

As Willow and Xander were heading to class, Buffy flew by them
down the school hallway.

"Buffy?" Willow called after the disappearing form
of her friend.

"Oh shit," Xander said seriously, "Did you see
her face!"

"Oh no . . ." Willow moaned and she felt the moisture
welling up in her eyes. All the laughter and fun of just a few
minutes ago on the front steps were vanishing. It wasn't fair.
They had had it for only just a few minutes and already it was
being snatched away.

"I pity any furniture that gets in her way right now,"
Xander said.

Buffy swept into the empty girls' locker room. In a fury, she
hurled a small chair across the tiled floor. It skidded and smashed
against the wall. Quickly she turned and punched several locker
doors over and over. The pain was nothing. She was used to it
by now. It took a lot for her to feel it.

Suddenly she stopped, contemplating her bruised fists and sat
down on a wooden bench where students changed before and after
gym class.

"Damn you, Angel!" she cursed quietly as she nursed
her sore hands, "Damn you!"

* * * * *

By noon, Giles was preparing to abandon his post at the check
out desk for lunch. Since tea time was not a universally recognized
custom in the Colonies, Giles had reprogrammed his life style
to orient himself around lunch. Lunch was now sacred.

Jonathan remained seated at the table up the stairs behind
the stacks. He hadn't moved for several hours, the pile of books
scattered around him all untouched.

"I'm going out to get some lunch," Giles called from
the library main floor, "You want anything?"

There was no response. Giles shrugged his shoulders and started
for the door when Buffy suddenly burst in and pushed her way past
him.

"Oh, Buffy," Giles exclaimed, silently praying that
there would be some kind of resolution to the morning's tension
by the time he returned from lunch. Knowing the complexity of
his Slayer's relationships, he thought it highly unlikely however.

"Where is he?" Buffy snapped as she glanced around.

"Up there," Giles nodded towards the upper landing
beyond the stacks.

Buffy glared at Giles.

"Well," he stuttered as he wilted under her silent
command to buzz off, "I'll be back in about an hour."

Giles quickly turned and left, relieved to be out of range
of the emotional fireworks he realized would follow shortly. As
the library door slapped shut, Buffy walked slowly up the stairs
to the table where Jonathan sat. At first, neither looked directly
at the other. There was an embarrassing silence.

"Hi," she finally said uneasily.

"Hi," he replied, not wanting to look at her but
unable to keep his face averted.

"I guess we gotta talk."

"How much did you hear this morning?" he asked, afraid
of what she was about to say.

"Does it matter?" she answered and suddenly realized
holding back was going to get her nowhere. There was another awkward
pause.

"I'll go first," she said firmly, straightening up
and folding her arms across her chest, "I'm not going to
apologize for what went on between me and Angel."

"You're not going to apologize for anything," he
immediately replied shaking his head.

Buffy's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"None of this is your fault," he continued as she
stared at him.

"But Jonathan, you've got to understand. . ." but
she couldn't get the sentence out as he interrupted her.

"No! Buffy, this is your world, not mine! I have no business
screwing it up," he paused and sadly looked down at his bruised
hand on the table, "I have no right hurting you . . . or
judging what went on between you and Angelus."

"Jonathan!" she tried to contradict him, to sooth
the pain she saw spreading across his face but he wouldn't let
her. He looked back up at her and she couldn't turn away from
his blue eyes.

"I should have died four hundred years ago," he almost
whispered, "I don't even belong here."

That was it. Now she was mad. She was not going to let this
happen, not again. She wasn't letting go without a fight.

"Yes you do!" she almost shouted back at him, "If
this is my world, then I call the shots and you're staying!"

"That might not be enough. With all the spells I know,
I can't erase what I said!" he apologized, "I can't
take it back!"

"Then don't," she said drawing on her Slayer's strength
and for once finding the words she so desperately wanted to say,
"It's what you feel. I'll have to accept that . . . But we
can go on from here."

Buffy looked him directly in the eyes, and again they silently
shared a whirl of emotions.

"I'm not taking anything back I said either," she
said slowly and firmly.

Buffy sat down next to Jonathan. Reaching out as she had at
the Bronze, she took his hands in hers. Spotting the bruise, she
softly ran her fingers over it, caressing the injured flesh.

"I heard everything you and Giles were talking about and
we can beat this. Just let me help." He returned her grip
as she felt the fading energy spreading from his fingertips into
the muscles of her palms and wrists.

"Buffy, the energy in the spell that keeps me here . .
. " he tried to explain," Well, it's like the water
from a spring. If I draw too much, it'll run dry."

Buffy took a deep breath and leaned forward as she had on the
front porch. She placed her face against his, kissing him softly
on the cheek.

"I'm a Slayer. Take it from me," she murmured as
she strengthened her grip on his hands. For a moment he could
sense her Slayer's strength, her life force, a tremendous warmth
and power surging back at him, freely, unconditionally, through
their joined hands. His heart soared for a second, but then crashed
immediately.

"No!" he exclaimed as he pulled away from her. He
broke their grip together and held her shoulders between his hands.
"You can't do that! This is a curse that's allowed me to
cheat the dust for four hundred years, not a blessing! It's a
rupture in the natural order, just like Angelus and Drusilla.
I can't let you . . . I won't let you share my fate!"

"What fate?" Buffy asked fearfully, "You see
something . . . what is it?"

He wouldn't answer her. Instead suddenly, Jonathan had Buffy
in his arms. He drew her in tightly against him, holding her as
if she were the anchor that would keep his body and soul from
scattering like dust blown away in the wind.

"Believe me," he said as he buried his face in her
long flowing hair, "I want more than anything to stay here,
. . . with you . . .in this 'awesome' new world."

Buffy brought her face up against the skin of his cheek and
gently rubbed back and forth.

"Then let's seize the day," she whispered, her lips
now almost against his, "Carpe diem and all that. Maybe only
an hour or a week . . . maybe a month, . . . might be a year.
But stay with me."

Their embrace tightened as Buffy felt his hands running through
her hair and she spread her arms across his back. Their lips now
met and exchanged the same passion as had their eyes only moments
before.

The door to the library suddenly slapped open as Giles barged
back in.

"Jonathan, I forgot to get the Wessex text," he babbled,
fussing among a pile of books and documents on the check out desk,
"Did I leave it . . ."

Giles heard soft sounds emanating from behind the stacks on
the upper landing. Instantly he spotted Buffy and Jonathan in
each others arms.

"Oh, sorry," the Watcher called out as he scurried
out the door once more. He halted at the hallway entrance to the
library.

"My, that was quick," he muttered as he scratched
his head.

Before he turned to leave, Giles stopped as he had an incredibly
un-Giles like thought. Or at least one he wouldn't have had since
his student days at Cambridge. He reached into his pocket and
brought out his jingling key chain.

At that point, the Watcher's training almost overwhelmed him.
This was ridiculous, he thought. Slayers had to concentrate. Slayers
couldn't be distracted by feelings, social lives and physical
attractions, otherwise it could spell their own doom as well as
the destruction of those who depended on them. This was what he
had always been taught by the Council. It was basic, fundamental.

And as for Jonathan, here was an extremely dangerous individual,
an unpredictable youth with all the strength of a full blown telekinetic
who still had no idea who or what he was and the range of the
powers he wielded. Together, the two could be a disastrous combination.

Giles still didn't move from the library door in the hallway.

Or together, he mused, they could be something else, something
entirely new, an incredible combined force for good against the
shadows of evil circling in around them. Giles smiled slightly
as he experienced a warm sensation that Willow would have told
him all the Scoobies were familiar with from the front steps of
Sunnydale High that morning. The Watcher's smile grew as he selected
one specific key from his key chain.

"Rupert, old man," he said out loud, "I hope
you're not going to regret this."

Slipping the key into the lock on the library door, Giles turned
it so that the tumblers dropped into the locked position. He quickly
pocketed the key, turned in the hallway and, not looking back,
left the school building for the afternoon.

*****

Chapter 10 - Promises

The atmosphere was turning festive as evening fell at the warehouse
lair of Drusilla, Spike and Angelus. The three vampires had spent
the afternoon clearing out a massive basement storage chamber
near the lower level loading dock under the dilapidated old building.
A make shift altar now stood at the top of a series of elevated
steps at the far corner of the chamber. Centered prominently in
the middle of the sacred table sat the Command Stone which was
beginning to glow with an eerie pulsating light. Overhead dozens
of brightly colored streamers stretched from the dark cobweb encrusted
beams.

From his wheelchair at the base of the steps, Spike studied
the arrangement of the altar with satisfaction. He also approved
of the lithe form of Drusilla next to it. Seductively, she fondled
a miniature crossbow and several small but lethal looking darts.

"Nice party favors, love," he grinned, "What
are we playing, pin the dart in the Slayer?"

Drusilla didn't answer but only cooed, her fingers running
eagerly across the dart points as she tested their sharpness.
Every few seconds she squealed with glee as a point nicked her
skin drawing blood.

Angelus entered the chamber from a steep metal staircase at
the far wall. He puffed himself up about to make an announcement
regarding the evening's plans when Spike interrupted him.

"Angelus, you forgot the party hats."

Angelus growled in return.

"How many are coming?" Drusilla asked as her eyes
dreamily surveyed the glowing Command Stone.

"I've issued a general summoning of our brothers and sisters,"
he answered as he glared furiously at Spike, "They'll be
here shortly."

"Excellent!" she sighed, the hissing sound of her
voice arousing Spike. "Lots and lots of party guests!"

"But what's with the toy, love? " Spike asked nodding
towards the crossbow, "That's not going to do much good against
a wizard."

"A special party game. If my dear fiance survives our
'pet,'" here Drusilla swooped back and forth around the Command
Stone, "Then I'll shoot one of his friends! He'll use the
last of his energy reviving the miserable creature and then 'poof,'
his spell collapses!"

"Clever," Spike nodded with approval.

"Angelus, dear, will you deliver the invitations to our
'special' guests now?" Drusilla pouted.

Angelus wanted desperately to complain about being the errand
boy. He also seethed at Spike smirking in his wheelchair.

"And don't forget to be clear on time and place,"
Drusilla scolded, sensing his reticence. "And regarding RSVP's,
I simply won't accept 'no' for an answer."

Angelus sighed as he turned and left the chamber the way he
had come.

"Oh, Dru, this BYOB?" Spike asked.

"Of course," she grinned as her face morphed.

* * * * *

Willow was surprised. It was sixth period study hall, the library
was locked and Giles was nowhere to be found. Neither were Buffy
and Jonathan for that matter. For a moment she thought she heard
quiet sounds coming from behind the locked doors but on listening
carefully everything seemed silent. She shrugged her shoulders
as she headed off to the computer lab to do some recreational
net cruising.

By the close of sixth period, Willow was on her way back to
the library when she stumbled into Giles in the hallway.

"Where've you been?" she asked almost accusingly,
"The library's been locked all afternoon."

"Uh, I had a reference to check at the city library,"
Giles stuttered, and Willow could tell immediately that he was
fibbing.

"Where's Jonathan? . . . and Buffy?" Willow pressed
as they reached the library.

". . . Haven't seen them," Giles lied again as he
fumbled for his keys.

Willow grabbed the handle before the Watcher could select the
proper key. Giles abruptly pushed Willow's hand off the door.

"Knock, Knock!" he called out overly loudly as Willow
stared at him.

"Giles?" Willow asked, wondering whether he had gotten
into his "secret cabinet" where she knew he stashed
his single malt scotch.

At the same time, Giles jingled his keys noisily with an extravagant
wave of his hand.

"Let Me See! Where Is That Key Now?!" he announced
in an exaggerated voice as if he were arguing a bill before a
rowdy session of Parliament.

Giles! What the hell are you doing?" Willow exclaimed.

"Ah Hah!" he shouted, "Here . . . It . . . Is!"

He jammed the key into the lock, deliberately turning the handle
with a loud clatter.

"We're Coming In Now!" he shouted as Willow stared
at him dumbfounded.

As she and Giles stepped into the library, both halted in surprise.
Buffy sat nestled in Jonathan's lap. The teenagers were squeezed
into a chair before one of the research tables on the lower level.
Their clothes were disheveled as if they had been carelessly put
back on, numerous buttons were undone and both were barefoot.
Two pairs of shoes tossed wildly about were visible at the top
of the stairs leading to the upper landing. Buffy's head was draped
across Jonathan's shoulder and her long blonde hair unceremoniously
spilled across his still open shirt. He gently stroked her bare
arm which was wrapped about his open waist.

"Oops!" Willow gasped.

Looking up, Buffy's eyes bulged with embarrassment. She quickly
jumped out of Jonathan's lap and scooped up an armful of books
as if she were about to refile them. In a poorly concealed panic,
she dashed back and forth between book shelves, shoving the volumes
into any place they would fit. At the same time, she struggled
to tuck in her trailing white blouse.

"Hi Will! Hi Giles!" she called out over her shoulder
as she forced a book into one shelf causing two others to pop
out the back of the bookcase and plop onto the floor.

Giles turned the color of Harvard beets and disappeared into
his office. Willow thought she heard behind the closed door a
cabinet compartment squeak open, the clinking of a bottle mouth
on a small glass and the splash of liquid.

"Where were you guys?" Buffy called out as she floundered
with the armful of books. She still would look at Willow .

Willow glanced over at Jonathan who smiled sheepishly and raised
his hands in an apologetic gesture as he began buttoning up his
shirt.

"Buffy," Willow said quietly.

"I thought you'd be here for sixth period study hall,"
Buffy babbled as another book slipped out of her arms.

"Buffy," Willow said more insistently.

Buffy stopped.

"Yeah?" the Slayer asked nervously.

Willow's eyes dropped to indicate Buffy's bare feet.

Buffy glanced down and then over to Jonathan.

"What happened to our shoes?"

Jonathan grinned and thumbed towards the top of the second
level landing.

"Oh . . ." the Slayer replied awkwardly. She looked
down at her feet one more time and then back up at Willow.

"Busted?" she asked.

Willow nodded and she couldn't help it. She broke into a smile,
the kind that spread from ear to ear and could crack a soul of
granite. At the same time, Willow felt the warmth again, the feeling
from the front steps of that morning. It was back and she relished
it. It still belonged to the Scoobies. The bastards didn't get
it after all.

Things had settled down by the time the entire Scooby Gang
reassembled in the library that evening. The phone pool had been
put into play since no one knew the outcome of the evening's "activities."

The main order of business was to plan the search for the raising
site of the Ancient One. Giles, Jonathan, Buffy, Xander, Willow,
and Oz gathered around the library's central reading table. Cordelia
had skipped out of cheerleading practice and hovered around behind
Xander.

Every now and then Willow cast a glance over at Buffy and Jonathan.
She knew it was all different now. Out of the corner of her eye,
Willow caught Jonathan slipping his hand around Buffy's waist
or Buffy sliding her fingers into the back pocket of Jonathan's
jeans. Willow observed the two were never more than a few inches
apart.

"But I don't get it," Buffy exclaimed to Giles, "Why
are the vampires raising up an Ancient One if it's going to vaporize
them along with everything else?"

"That's what's got me," Jonathan backed her up, "Drusilla
can't control an Ancient One any more than you or I can. There's
got to be more to this than we're seeing."

"It's obvious. . . ." Xander announced as he leaned
back in his chair and folded his arms around the back of his neck,
"It's a trap."

"How do you figure that?" Giles asked skeptically.
He had little faith in Xander's track record with logic.

"They may be vampires, Giles, but they don't have a death
wish," Xander answered with perfect Yogi Berra thinking.

Willow couldn't resist.

"Well, duh! They already are!"

"Oh yeah," Xander floundered momentarily but instantly
regained his stride, "Well, anyway. They want Johno to put
the Ancient One down. So they're luring us there for another reason.
They're out to get someone."

"But who? And why?" Willow asked, fascinated to discover
Xander's line of reasoning.

"The who is pretty easy," Xander said as he began
identifying everyone sitting around the table, "It can't
be me or Cordy. And Willow, sorry girl, you don't rate, either."

"Aw, shucks," Willow replied putting on her best
hayseed accent. Xander quickly draped his arm over Oz's shoulder.

"Oz, our own Larry Talbot here's a little too kinky."

"I bite back!" Oz said, barely smiling and lifting
Xander's arm off his shoulder.





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