Half an hour later, they were in the library, looking up election records for the last hundred years or so with the Slayer and her Slayerettes. Once they had assured themselves that Giles and Eliza suffered no ill effects from the night before, they’d gotten to work. Willow and Oz were online on her laptop doing a 'net search of the newspaper archives. Xander and Cordelia were in the stacks "looking up stuff," as Xander put it with a grin. Buffy was leafing through various tomes on vampires. Giles and Eliza had their heads together over a couple of Watcher diaries in hopes of coming up with something he'd missed before. Buffy surreptitiously observed the two adults, noting an occasional glance shared or one hand brush and linger on another.
Xander and Cordelia emerged with another stack of books. Xander was slightly breathless, and Cordy's normally perfect hair was a bit ruffled. Buffy’s frustration began to build. She felt like odd man out here, and . . . . Well, damn. It's not their fault they've all found someone. Just 'cause I had to consign mine to hell is no reason to feel bitter, she thought sarcastically.
The door to the library swung open. Principal Snyder strode into the room. "Well, this is interesting. Working on a Saturday? And students here too?" He clucked once in disapproval.
Buffy hid her notes under the book she was reading; Willow quickly brought up another window just in case Snyder decided to inspect her computer. Xander and Cordy ducked back into the stacks.
"It's an extra credit session. I've assigned them to do an in-depth paper, and they need experience in researching a topic. So they asked for some time on Saturday to do just that." Eliza said brightly.
"And Mr. Giles. Are you helping Ms. Wells in this effort?" Snyder asked as he sauntered over to their table. Giles flipped the diary closed and sat back against the table in front of the book, arms and ankles crossed. He fumed inwardly at the implied slur, but outwardly assumed his most British demeanor.
"In point of fact, yes. I am the school's librarian, am I not? I was intrigued, so I decided to aid them in their research." Flimsy excuse, he chided himself, but he hoped Snyder would swallow it.
"I see. Miss Wells, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"
"Of course." She glanced back at Giles as she left the room. Snyder led her down the hall. She could still be seen from the library but knew its occupants couldn't hear what was being said.
"I thought I told you not to tell anyone about this!" he hissed. Eliza stood staring at him. "Dammit, Eliza, this is serious. And what the hell was Rupert Giles doing at your home last night?"
"How dare you spy on me!" Eliza growled back, blue eyes blazing. "Arden, what I do on my time outside of this school does not concern you! But as long as you’ve 'fessed up, who was that guy you had follow me?"
"What? What are you talking about? I didn't have anyone follow you."
"Then how did you know about Giles' visit last night? Not that it is any of your business, because it isn't!"
"I drove by, and his old heap was in your driveway. And the lights were all off," he finished heatedly.
"We were in my den, in the back of the house." Okay, slight lie, but she wasn’t going to admit to the troll what actually happened. Let him suspect, but she would never confirm.
"But he never left. His car was still there this morning," he accused.
"I've got a question for you, since you're so concerned for my welfare," she said with a touch of acidity. "Who followed me home?"
"I just told you – I didn’t have anyone follow you home. You must have been imagining things. Too much wine at dinner."
"I didn’t have any wine. And someone was hidden in the bushes behind my car at the restaurant. Then, minutes after I got home, I was looking out the front window, and he was there across the street; you know, tall, pale, blond spiked hair, black trenchcoat. Ring any bells? Who was he, Arden?" She took a step toward him.
"Is that why you had Giles come over? For protection? You could have just called me, and I would have gladly. . . ."
Eliza cut him off with a slashing motion of her hand. "If you didn't have me followed, great. If you know who is doing this to me, make him stop. I will not live my life looking over my shoulder."
Snyder considered a minute. "Okay. I'll see what I can find out. I can't promise anything. But you've got to be careful. They got word that someone was cruising a section of the internet that they monitor fairly closely, and they traced it here. They sent me to find out what's going on. I can tell them it was for a research project for your class, but I'll need proof to show them. So I had better see some papers showing up on my desk from you in the next few weeks. Understand? And stop teaching that blasted class by winter or something will happen."
"Are you threatening me? I will not stop teaching my class. There is no risk to your boss or whomever you answer to. Everyone considers it to be fiction."
"And someone might just catch on to the truth if you keep it up. Then there'll be trouble."
"Fine. After winter break then," she gave in. "That'll give me enough time to throw something else together for the second half of the year. But I'm doing this under protest."
"Whatever. Look, I know that those kids in there are messing things up somehow. They won't tell me exactly, but I know. So tell them to back off. They could get hurt. I mean, Willow Rosenburg is one of our best students."
"You actually do care, don't you."
"No. I'm actually thinking of her monetary contributions to her alma mater after she makes good in this world. If she lives long enough to do so. Good afternoon, Ms. Wells. See you on Monday." With that, he turned and left her standing in the hallway. She walked very slowly back to the library where Giles and the rest of the gang awaited her anxiously.
"Well?" Giles asked.
"It wasn't him. Oh, he knows you came over last night. Drove by later, he said, and saw your car. But he didn't send the guy who was watching my house. And me. God, that gives me the creeps."
"I know. Tell me, did your shadow look like this?" He held out an open book to her.
"Yeah. Yeah, that looks an awful lot like him. Who is he?"
"Buffy, our friend Spike is back in town."
"Knew he wouldn't be able to stay away. Reunion time tonight, I think." Buffy smiled grimly at her Watcher.
"The same Spike that you made a deal with to defeat that demon?" Eliza asked the Slayer.
"Yup. The same. I think I'll try to talk with him first to see why he's back in town. Then the fun begins."
"And if he's on our side, I've just given his description to Snyder. Damn it!" she fumed. "Oh, Willow. Shut down. They got a tip for someone who monitors site you were searching--that's why they sent Snyder."
"That's okay. I already found what we were looking for. There hasn't been a mayoral election in over a hundred years. The guy's name that was elected last, meaning 1890, was Gideon Black. So far as I've been able to determine, after about 1900 there was no more mention of him, but there's always been a mayor. But no mention of his name, or - or anything. Hey, why didn't someone ask about this before?"
"Excellent, Willow!" Giles said, reaching for his watcher diaries. "Now we can finally find this chap and see what we're up against."
"Um, Giles, hold up here. Why are we researching this guy, and why are we up against him. Are you running for office?" Xander asked.
"Um, n-no. Eliza, I believe we need to fill everybody in on the whole story." At her nod, he locked the library doors, shut off the lights, and led them into his office, where he and Eliza took turns spinning the brief tale of the past twenty-four hours.
"So, Snyder is deeply entrenched in the center of this. We assume he is working for one Gideon Black, former and current mayor of Sunnydale for the past hundred years, give or take, and possible vampire. Spike may or may not be in his employ. Snyder is going to get squeezed regardless. That's simply where his position leaves him." As does mine, she fumed inwardly.
"And," she sighed, "I'm really sorry, gang, but the class will actually have to do an extra-credit paper requiring library research. Eight to ten pages. Pick one of the monsters in one of the stories we’ve read so far this year, research it, and then compare it to real life. How the monster works as metaphor. I'll announce it on Monday. It's the only way to cover our slip-up in surfing the 'net."
The teens groaned and complained. All of a sudden, Xander stopped, sat up, and looked at Giles.
"So, did you?" asked Xander, grinning.
"Did I what?" asked Giles.
"Really stay the night at Eliza's place?"
"Xander, that is entirely beside the point of what we are now dealing with," Giles replied stiffly, frowning at the boy. "And it is none of your business." Xander ducked his head and grinned. "Now, I think we've found out quite a lot today. It's still beautiful outside, so I suggest that you go enjoy yourselves for the rest of the day." The teens looked at each other in amazement, then at Giles and smiled widely.
"Go on," said Eliza. "You heard the man. Scoot!" The two couples hurried out of the room and left the library.
"Buffy, that means you too," Giles said as she lingered a bit in the doorway.
"I know, but I wanted to say that I'm really happy for you two."
"What makes you think," began Giles, but Buffy cut him off.
"Giles, please. I’m not blind. And I know my Watcher, too. I saw the looks you two were giving each other, and-and I approve. God knows you deserve some happiness, Giles. And Eliza is really great for you. I-I just wanted to let you know, in case I have trouble dealing with being the only single person in a world of couples. So, now I have, and I’m going to go find something constructive to do until I can kick some vampiric butt later tonight. See ya." Buffy quickly left the office and the library.
"She’s very perceptive. I thought we were covering well," remarked Eliza, walking into the library proper and beginning to straighten up the tables and gather up books.
"We were. Would you like to-to go somewhere that we don’t have to . . . cover?"
"Mind-reading, Rupert?"
He took a pile of books out of her hands and set them firmly on the table. He gathered her close and kissed her thoroughly. "Oh, yes. Yes, I do think I was," he breathed against her lips.
Another person observed them through the library windows. After looking his fill, Principal Snyder stalked back down the hallway and stormed into his office, slamming the door behind him. The report echoed through the empty hallways. He sat in his desk chair, then rose and began pacing within the confines of the little space that remained.
Arden stopped by his telephone, and his hand hovered above the instrument, fisted once, and then withdrew. He cursed softly yet vehemently. A call to the Mayor was just what she deserved for lying to him. Yes, leading him on and playing him for a fool. That's just what he should do. Yes, call. He reached for the phone and picked up the handset, only to replace it in the cradle. A call to the Mayor would mean losing her forever. But to delay would mean his life.
Arden half-sat, half-fell into the chair across from his desk, the one he reserved for wayward students. He buried his face in his hands. Here sat a man firmly impaled upon the horns of his dilemma.
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