Giles, more or less recovered from his brief sojourn in the '70s, was the first to respond. "What's happened-- did you find the revenant?"
"Forget the ghost, Egon. We have *real* problems," Buffy informed him.
"Buffy, a possibly very dangerous revenant is haunting a local playground. What could be more of a problem than that?" demanded Giles.
"Try musical vampires," suggested Xander.
"I beg your-- musical *what*?"
"Six singing vampires," Willow contributed. "It was pretty strange."
"That's not all," Buffy continued. She pointed at Xander. "*He* was singing, too."
"I told you, I don't know *why* that happened," Xander protested.
Calendar looked at Giles. "Singing vampires, singing Xanders, and a singing Watcher. I should've stayed in Connecticut."
"Giles sang??" Xander said, grinning widely.
"The Bee-Gees. It was spooky."
"Could we please concentrate on the problem at hand?" Giles asked, a bit testily.
"I'd love to-- what is it?" Buffy wanted to know. "A ghost, or the fact that we're suddenly in *The Sound of Music.*"
"Maybe it's a vampire thing?" Willow suggested.
"...which means maybe we should ask Our Friendly Neighbourhood Bloodsucker," Xander finished, looking less than pleased.
"Our own vampire canary," Buffy mused, "Right here...." She got an odd look, then continued:
BUFFY:
Right here in Sunnydale, there dwells a guy
Who makes my pulses race, who makes me sigh.
"Is that organ music?" whispered Willow.
"Shhh," Xander said.
BUFFY:
And when I dream at night, I always find
That Angelus of Sunnydale is there
Inside my mind.
She stopped, shook her head. "Okay, that was moderately bizarre--"
ANGEL:
My Slayer, hearken to this wild lament--
"Huh??" Xander and Willow turned to try and locate the origin of the new voice.
ANGEL:
For me to long for you is really bent.
And though I turn from you and try to flee,
The Slayer here in Sunnydale-- she lives Inside of me....
Angel stepped out of the shadows.
GILES & CALENDAR
He's here-- the Vampire of the Hellmouth!
WILLOW & XANDER:
Beware-- oh, Slayer of the Hellmouth!
BUFFY:
In all my childhood dreams, I never knew
That I would ever love Someone like you...
[She reaches to touch his cheek, but he pulls away.]
ANGEL:
Our hearts will break in two, I know for sure....
This love between a Slayer and a vamp
Cannot endure.
His last note fell into silence.
"This is going to be one of *those* nights, isn't it?" Angel asked.
"Did it get, ah... stilted, for a moment-- a bit, well, scripted?" Giles asked Calendar, quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind. Probably nothing." *"Not",* he thought, quoting Buffy.
"Okay. It's too late at night to handle this now. I've still got English homework to deal with. I'm outta here," Buffy informed them all.
"I'm with you," Willow agreed.
"Wait for me!" Xander called, and the three cleared out with extreme quickfulness.
Angel looked bemused. "Would someone care to try and explain this to me?" he asked.
"We know it involves vampires and singing," Giles said, after a long pause.
"Uh-huh," Angel said. "Well. That clears it right up."
"Would you mind perhaps asking around about anything odd to do with, um--"
"Singing. Right. No problem," Angel sighed. "Oh-- here," he added, handing Giles a battered bundle of papers. "These may help you out a bit. They're the Perelandra Theora."
"Where do you *find* these things?" Giles gasped, eyes brightening at the thought of yet more dusty old oddities to pore over.
"Oh, just around. 'Night, all." He smiled at Calendar and left.
Giles started to head for his office.
"You know it isn't vampires. It's probably the ghost," Calendar said to his back.
He turned around. "I know. But, well, one can't take chances. It *might* be a plan of the Anointed One to... to.... Well, to do *something*."
"Right. Well, I'm going home, too. I'll see if I can find something about revenants and music."
"What would you know about that sort of thing?" he asked, brow furrowed.
She rolled her eyes. "You haven't got a monopoly on research, Info Guy. Besides, I've got connexions in the occult community. After all--" She blinked, and Giles tensed, recognising the signs. Sure enough:
CALENDAR:
I'm a witch, I'm a pagan,
Watch the stars, just like Sagan.
Throw the bones, read the cards--
It's really not that hard.
I'm your hope, I'm--
She cut herself off. "Buffy's right. That *is* weird. That does it. I'm gone."
Giles watched her retreat. *This promises to be interesting,* he thought as the door closed behind her. *And there -is- something odder than odd going on....*
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