"What happened next?" Buffy asked nervously. "Did the whole town get invaded or did it all stop? Was it real or a trick? And did the little boy die? No, don't tell me. That would make me too sad…"
"No one knows what happened after. The place descended into chaos. Everyone attacked one another because the suggestion had been planted, even though not a single person was truly the evil believed to be there. The belief, however, was too strong and it's assumed they killed and destroyed everyone and everything. The beings did, in fact, exist and orchestrated the entire incident to observe how quickly they could deteriorate the human psyche."
"That's awful!"
"Knock, knock!" Xander called, sticking his head into the room. "I come bearing clothes, magazines, and some magic dust to make you feel better!"
"You mean you found another cure?" Giles asked excitedly.
"Well, not exactly…" he responded carefully.
"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" Buffy deadpanned.
"It's…uh…some…" he grasped for the explanation, but couldn't get a hold. He froze, thinking it over, finally deciding, "Willow!"
She came in like a nervous bunny, eyes closed as if she'd walk in on some sort of hanky-panky. "What is it, Xander?"
"Explain the magic dust to the sickies before they stake me."
"Well, they're a combination of ibuprofen and goblin dust. They're not a cure as much as a feel better pill until we make the permanent one. So I think that's a yay, don't you?"
"Yay," Buffy and Giles said in unenthusiastic unison.
Willow frowned and held up a bag. "But I got you chocolate."
"Ooh! Gimmie!" Buffy answered, reaching happily. Willow handed it over.
"Your mistakes have been subsequently forgotten," Giles nodded. "If I get some of those, of course."
She held the bag open for him. Willow caught the looks between them. Xander was too busy thinking about the conversation he walked in on.
"All that stuff about messing with human psyche and chaos was just a story, right? Something from some history book and never going to happen here anytime soon?" he hoped.
"Actually, it's from the Twilight Zone," Buffy answered. "I haven't seen that one."
"It's good. Very haunting," Giles nodded, going for another chocolate. Buffy snatched one before he could.
"There wasn't much else to do but tell stories," she shrugged.
"Well, now you have magazines and pajamas. That should liven up the party," Xander smiled, setting the things on the comforter.
"After you add the powder to something to drink, you should feel like new! The real cure will be ready in a few days. Until then, you can just rest and read and stuff. We'll call and stop by if you want."
"Okay, Will. We'll get right on that. Thanks for finding something to help. I'm still feeling shivery," Buffy replied.
Giles absentmindedly put a blanket around her. "I could use something to calm my headache as well," he agreed.
"Great. Well, we should go. The doses are all measured out for ya. Come on, Xander. We have somewhere to go…"
They quickly left.
"Did you see it?" she whispered to him on the way out.
"See what?"
"They had those googly eyes and guilty faces."
"So?"
"They totally kissed. I can't believe this!"
Giles and Buffy couldn't hear over the chocolates.
"This is some of the best chocolate I've ever had," he commented thickly.
"It's yummy times ten," she agreed.
"Perfect to go with our magic dust, wouldn't you say?"
"Definitely perfect."
"I'll go get some water to wash them down."
"I should go. You should rest."
"No, no. You stay and change, whatever you need to get comfortable."
"Okay. Don't be too long or I'll have to come check on you."
"I think I can handle the long journey to my kitchen. If I can't, I'll sound the alarm and you can ride in to rescue me from the soggy tea bags."
"Ha-ha."
He left and she pulled on the first mismatched outfit she could. She started to worry when the time seemed to drag, but then he returned with tea and water. They took their dust with some hesitation, and then reclined with their tea and candies. She was shocked when she found she felt better right away.
"Do we have any chocolates left?" he inquired some time later. She checked the bag.
"One. It's all yours."
He awkwardly tried to juggle his book and tea. She shook her head and simply fed it to him.
"Thank you," he smiled through the coco goodness. "If you find you're growing tired of me, I can move to the couch."
"No. I think the upstairs is a nice change of scenery for us, don't ya think?"
"I do, but if you're feeling up to being alone and want to be, I don't want to bother—"
"Not a bother. You should be close just in case one of us gets sick."
"You aren't feeling better?"
"Nope," she shrugged, curling neatly against him. "You?"
"…not much either…" he agreed, just as insincerely.
He resumed reading, gingerly sipping his tea. She made a habit of staying in contact with him at all times, usually by hugging an arm or in this case, a leg. Neither had noticed she did, not that they'd have minded. His ears detected a sigh, so he glanced down at her and placed the book aside. Feeling for a fever, for the seventh time in the last hour and a half, his fingers noticed she had cooled down. He didn't say it. Instead, he rearranged her hair so she'd breathe easier, running his hand down the back of her head.
"How are you, Buffy?"
"Never better. This whole Slayer sick leave thing is kinda great once you get past the feeling like death."
"I have to agree."
She met his gaze, "Talk."
"Talk?"
"I don't care what you say. My eyes hurt from too much reading, my brain hurts from too much thinking, and my body hurts too much from Mr. Fugly. I just want to lie here and do nothing, but it's creepy when it's quiet."
He smiled and told story after story with his big words and boring facts, but it was soothing and she wound up falling asleep across his lap. He stayed awake, reading various books he'd read a million times before.
Nightfall was interesting. They had a ton of excuses for why neither felt they should separate, so they simply didn't. There they were, she in her strangest pair of pajamas flipping through a magazine and he in his robe strumming his guitar.
"I've been waiting so long to be where I'm going in the sunshine of your love. I'm with you my love. The light's shining through on you. Yes, I'm with you my love. It's the morning and just we two. I'll stay with you darling now. I'll stay with you till my seas are dried up…" he sang, continuing on with the rest of the song. She clapped when it was over.
"Very nice. If I had a lighter, I'd have waved it around until the sprinklers went off."
"It was lighter worthy?" he smiled, settling back beside her.
"Uh-huh. Zippo approved. Keep playing. The live versions are much better than the record ones."
"Any requests?"
"Ooh, you take requests? This should be fun…"
"Buffy…"
"I'll behave. Maybe."
She started laughing and he joined in. They were like that until late into the night when they both fell asleep. When Willow called the next morning to see how the pills worked, Buffy said they didn't and Giles agreed. True, the real cure hadn't come, but all symptoms were gone. The quarantine went on without cause and neither could complain.
"Oh dear Lord," Giles said the following afternoon. He held the magazine out further, turning it from side to side, bringing it closer to his face again.
Buffy was across his lap and the bed, reading his bike magazine. She'd gotten cold and insisted she required more than a blanket. So, he quickly gave her one of his sweaters. It didn't match the yummy sushi pajama bottoms, but comfort was the name of the game.
"Hmm?" she answered distractedly. Maybe slaying would be more fun on a scooter…
"I've never seen an ice skater wear that and still be able to pull such a move off," he responded. "I can't tell if it's real or just my eyesight."
She set the magazine on her chest, looking up at his chin through his glasses. "You want your glasses back?"
"If I could for just a moment," he nodded, taking them delicately from her. He double checked the picture in her ice skating magazine, carefully placing the frames back on her.
"Thanks. I always feel smarter in glasses and I feel doubly smart since they're yours."
He grinned. "I feel the very same about ice skating periodicals."
She giggled, finished with the bikes and more interested in his incorrectly buttoned shirt. Her fingers poked at one of them. "You're buttons are all wrong."
"They are?" he replied, not bothering to look. "I wonder if that had anything to do with not having my glasses."
"Hey, I offered to give 'em back and you said, 'No, that's quite all right. They've been known to give me a dreadful headache if I wear them for too long.' Exact quote, not exactly the exact accent, but you can't say it didn't sound British. Just not your British. Maybe a cousin or something."
He smiled fondly. "It was a somewhat accurate impression."
"I'll take it," she said happily, frowning at the crooked shirt. "Can you fix the buttons? You're only one off, but it's really bugging me."
"I'll fix them in a moment. I'm almost finished with an article about the figure eight and its origins…"
"Fine. You read and I'll button."
He held the magazine in the air above her and she quickly corrected the problem area.
"There. All fixed," she nodded, moving to straighten his lopsided collar and wrinkled shoulders. Might as well while she's at it…
It didn't take long to smooth out the kinks, but she stayed there with her hands about his neck. His attention drifted from the magazine to her features. He gently tossed it behind her, loosely hanging his arms around her midsection.
"I thought you were reading that article," she murmured.
"Yes, well, I finished it. I thought you were fixing my shirt."
"I finished it."
"Right."
"Yeah."
They moved in, colliding at the mouths as lightly and sweetly as a sugarcoated feather. It carried on for awhile until Giles stopped, breathing, "Didn't we agree to focus on making a recovery?"
"Uh-huh."
"Only checking."
He kissed her again, she kissed back a bit harder, and then a crack got their attention. They looked toward the hall.
"Did that sound like a door being broken down?" she asked quietly.
"The new door…" he grumbled.
"We killed that thing, so what could be coming for us now?"
"I honestly don't know, but I'm sure we'll soon find out…"
