Part Nine
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Joyce Summers' art gallery was full of people. Sunnydale's elite crowded the twisting spaces, making small talk and trying to be seen by one another. A few were actually there for the art.
Not many, thought Buffy, but enough to keep the gallery in business and her mother afloat. And me in such stylish clothing. She smiled as she spun deftly through the throngs. The place was dark in the middle but track lighting illuminated most of the walls. Dark shadows and bright regions competed to give the gallery a festive, nightclub type atmosphere.
This dress looks good on me. Buffy admired herself in the reflection of a shiny metal sculpture. Black, sleeveless, spaghetti straps to hold it up and the hem just above her knees. She stood smiling for a moment before she remembered the real reason she was here.
Those dang pictures. Pouting, she looked off in the direction of the European section of the gallery. Through the forest of people she could make out Giles and Stephen. They were by the portraits, studying them. The paintings gave her the creeps. Knowing that it was likely one or more of those things held something horrible made her skin crawl every time she went near.
Buffy stood up on her toes and took in the crowd around her. All these people had no idea how close they were to a world of magic, vampires and death. She bit her lip and sighed wistfully. How fortunate they were and they didn't even know it.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother glaring at her from across the room. When she turned to face her, her mother swung her arm about as if she was stirring something.
Buffy smiled apologetically and nodded. Circulate, circulate. That was her job tonight. Her normal world job, anyway. "Smile, introduce yourself and ask if you can help them with anything." Those had been her instructions. She'd heard them at least a hundred times before the show. Rolling her eyes, she steeled herself to return to the fray.
* * *
Across the room, Willow stood next to a tall, handsome man. Not as handsome as Xander, she thought, but still very nice. "Have you been to the gallery before?" she asked. She bit her tongue and hoped that she sounded professional.
The man turned from the sculpture he was studying and smiled at her.
"No, I haven't. It's very nice. I'm surprised such a small town like Sunnydale would have one of such quality," the man said.
"Well, Ms Summers works very hard." Ooo, Willow thought. That wasn't very good. Not professional at all. She looked up to see the man's reaction. He smiled down at her. He sounds vaguely foreign, she thought. She fidgeted with a sheaf of pamphlets in her hand.
"Have you worked here long?" he asked.
"No, this is my first day. I'm really just helping out..." Oh drat, Willow thought. I let it out. Now I have to tell him I'm just a high school kid helping her friend's mom. "I'm friends with Ms Summer's daughter. She asked me to help tonight."
"She's very fortunate that her daughter has such helpful friends."
Xander walked by with a drink tray in his hands. Willow smiled shyly at him as he passed. Poor Xander, she thought. All done up in that waiter's outfit. He looked rather silly.
The man next to her took a champagne glass from the tray. He started to offer it to Willow, then looking her over he said, "You're, ah, a little young I guess."
"A little," she admitted.
Xander's eyes widened at the exchange and Willow shooed him away. He left, but lurked nearby, not so subtly watching them both.
"So, can I..." the man reached for Willow's hand.
"What? Oh, yes! I'm sorry." She held out a pamphlet. "I'm supposed to give them out to everybody."
"Don't worry about it."
Xander was edging closer to try and overhear Willow's conversation when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Cordelia. Coming closer.
Oh no, he thought. She can't see me like this. He scooted off as quickly as he could without spilling the drinks. He spotted a dark corner through the throngs and headed for it.
* * *
Buffy weaved through the crowd, officially looking for somebody to talk but really just trying to look busy for her mother. She spotted Willow talking with an older man. A well dressed older man, she noted. As she drew closer she watched him shake Willow's hand and then walk away reading a pamphlet. Willow spotted her and hurried over.
"Hey Buffy." Willow stood clutching a stack of pamphlets in her hands. "I'm having so much fun" Willow waved the pamphlets. "People come and ask me questions about the art and I get to explain, just like a real job and stuff."
Buffy folded her arms and tapped her foot. "And there wouldn't be any other reason that you're having so much fun?" She tilted her head slightly at Xander, who was standing across the room. "A reason that might have something to do with a childhood fantasy coming to life this morning?"
Willow blushed and stole a glance at Xander. He was hiding in a corner of the room holding a tray with champagne glasses on it. "Maybe," she said shyly.
"Maybe?" Buffy said. She reached out and grabbed Willow's hands, knocking a few of the pamphlets to the floor. "This is the big one, Will. All you can say is maybe?" Buffy smiled slyly and leaned closer. "Oh course you realize that from now on you'll have to tell me every little detail. Every kiss, every-"
"No, no, no" Willow said. Her eyes were big and she drew back. "I can't talk details."
Buffy stamped her foot. "Yes. You have to. You've been dragging Angel details from me for months. It's time to share. Friends share things. I want you to share Xander smoochies."
Willow looked at Xander then back to Buffy. Clutching the pamphlets to her chest she shook her head from side to side.
"You're not getting out of this," Buffy said. "I think we should start with exactly what it was you were helping Xander with in the storeroom earlier." Denial crossed Willow's face. "Don't think I didn't notice." Giving her a serious look she took hold of Willow's arm at the elbow and pulled her toward a less crowded part of the gallery. "Now spill the beans girl."
Willow let out a squeak as Buffy dragged her away.
* * *
Severian watched Buffy and Willow from a distance. The red head was rather cute. Maybe when this was all over...
Naw. She's sweet. You won't touch her and you know it. He looked down at the pamphlet Willow had given him. Five hundred years ago you'd have dragged that child screaming into the night and...
His face twitched. Odd how that sort of thing just doesn't appeal anymore. Killing didn't either.
Enough of this, he told himself angrily. You have work to do. He sipped his champagne and suppressed his mental wandering. Leaning against a wall he forced himself to settle down and keep an eye on the Slayer.
* * *
Xander stood on his tiptoes and watched Buffy and Willow slide off through the crowd out of sight. What a day, he thought. He was still in a daze over how quickly things with Willow had played out. He'd gone from trying to tell her "I like you as a friend" this morning to a darkened storeroom this afternoon.
He made a show of inspecting the wallpaper as his face turned red. Thinking about Willow like that was strange. A flash of color caught his eye. Through a parting of the crowd he saw her for a moment. She twirled in a circle, her long dark blue dress spinning up and her long hair trailing out behind her. She was laughing at something Buffy was telling her and had the brightest smile on her face...
Okay, he allowed, thinking like that was nice. Strange, but nice.
The uniform he had on was a different matter. Black pants, a bow tie, cumberbun and a ruffled white shirt. He'd taken one look at it when they'd arrived and turned to flee. He'd actually made two full steps before Buffy had put a death grip on the back of his neck.
He'd been rudely shoved into a closet to change while she and Willow stood guard outside. He smiled to himself. Miss Superhero thought she could treat him like that did she? Well, he would bide his time. When the right moment came, Xander Harris would have his revenge. Oh yes. At school, in front of a lot of people.
Now what should it be, he mused. Crazy string. Naw, too junior highish. Maybe a-
"Well, look at this everybody. A pizza delivery boy hits the big time."
Cordelia. With a gaggle of Cordelia-wanna-be's.
Xander moaned internally. Would he never be free of this infernal girl? Suddenly anger sparked within him. It was her fault that he'd run off and hurt Willow's feelings so terribly this morning. Well, it was his fault technically. But it wouldn't have happened if she hadn't shown up.
He stepped forward, ready to unleash a vile retort when a hand caught his arm and pulled him to the side.
"Xander, why are you standing here? You need to carry the drinks around the room." Joyce Summers escorted Xander away.
He glanced back at Cordelia as he moved off. She stood with her arms folded, a smirk on her face.
Despair overtook him and he turned away. He'd just been saved by Buffy's mother! He would never hear the end of it.
Joyce turned to speak to Xander but before she could her cellular phone rang. "This is Joyce Summers," she answered.
"Ah...hello. I'm trying to reach Buffy Summers. This is Angel."
Joyce's eyes widened. That older boy Buffy had brought home one evening. What did he want? "Angel, she's rather busy right now. Can I have her call you later?"
By the school gymnasium, Angel pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it. Think fast, he told himself.
"Actually Ms Summers, I was trying to reach Rupert Giles. It's somewhat of an emergency and I was hoping Buffy might know where he is."
"Oh dear," Joyce said, "I hope it's nothing too serious. You're in luck, though. Rupert Giles is here. I'll put him on the phone." She took the tray from Xander and handed him the phone. "Xander, would you take this to over to Mr. Giles? I believe he was in the European section a few minutes ago."
Xander eyed the tray now in her hands. Free at last! "Oh, one phone delivery coming right up."
Gotta milk this thing for some time, Xander thought. He strolled slowly though the crowd for a bit. When he was away from Joyce he put the phone to his ear.
"So, deadboy. Is there nothing on TV?"
"Xander?!" Angel gripped the phone tightly. "Listen, I'm not kidding around here. Get Giles or Buffy on the phone now."
"Oh come on. You can't talk to me anymore? We used to be such good buds."
Angel closed his eyes for a moment. "Xander," he said forcefully, "Spike is in the library stealing everything in sight. Would you care to come down and give me a hand?"
Uh oh, Xander thought. "I'll, ah, get Giles now." He began pushing through the crowd quickly.
* * *
Giles stood before five panel portraits perplexed. He took his glasses off and leaned closely to one. "I'm afraid it's eluding me." He put his glasses back on and turned to Stephen. "Perhaps it's not here." The look on Giles' face said he didn't believe his own words. He felt an odd, creepy feeling when he was near them.
Stephen stood with one hand on his chin, studying the five. "It's here," he murmured. "Of course, what I should do is just buy them all and we'll tear them open." He pulled a small notebook from his pocket. "Do you know what the asking price is?" He sat down on the bench behind them and set the notebook down next to him.
Giles laughed. "Yes. Buy all five. Why didn't I think of that?" He looked over to see Stephen thumbing through the notebook, not laughing. "I...Are you serious?" Giles said.
Stephen found what he was looking for and put his finger on the page. "What was that? Oh, the paintings. Yes, I'm serious." He pulled a cell phone from his jacket and dialed the number his finger marked. "Is there a price listed?"
Giles looked over the painting and read the index card fixed to the wall below it. He squinted as he searched the small text for the price.
"It's...well, it's $2,000 dollars." He leaned over at a card under another painting. "This one as well. They all appear to be."
Stephen nodded, then spoke into the phone. "This is Stephen. I need to make a purchase. It'll probably be American Express, but if they don't take it here I'll need about ten thousand plus California sales tax free on one of the other cards."
Must be nice, Giles thought. He heard his name called out behind him and looked back.
"Giles!" Xander was pushing though the crowd, holding out of a phone. "We've got trouble," he said when he arrived. He thrust the phone into Giles' hand. "Angel says that Spike's in the library."
Giles pushed Xander back toward the crowd. "Go get Buffy." Giles turned away to speak into the phone, but Stephen put his hand on his arm.
"What did he just say?"
Giles gave Stephen a pained look. "Spike, the local vampire king, is apparently in the library." He put the phone to his ear. "Hello, this is Rupert Giles."
Willow and Buffy were standing in a dimly lit corner behind a statue giggling when Xander found them. He broke free of the crowd. Neither saw him till he was a few feet away.
"Xander!" Willow shouted. She jumped to the side and put the statue between herself and Xander. She peeked out from behind it, her face turning red.
Buffy put her hands on her hips and looked archly at him. "Well, look who it is-"
Xander cut her off. "Bat signal on here. Spike's in the library."
The humor left Buffy's face. "Where's Giles?"
"By the paintings. He's on the phone with Angel right now."
The three teenagers found Giles just as he hung up the phone. He turned to them with a grave expression. "We have a serious problem. Angel has just informed me that Spike is in the library stealing the research materials. Right now they are waiting for us to return."
"Waiting for us?" Buffy said. "Spike wants me to kick his ass?"
Giles shook his head. "No, apparently he is looking for something and can't find it. It may be the very book that Angel was bringing over."
"Where is Angel now?" Buffy said anxiously.
"Hiding outside." He took Buffy by the arm. "We need to get to the library as soon as possible. He mustn't be allowed to take those books."
Buffy nodded. "Let's go then." She turned to Xander. "Stay here. Cover for me with my mom."
"No way," Xander said. "I'm coming with you."
Buffy shook her head. "Xander-"
"It may be a good idea." Giles interrupted. Buffy tilted her head at him in shock. "If Spike has brought a large number of..." he looked around nervously at the gallery crowd and went on more quietly "...his friends, then we may need all the help we can get."
"Thanks G-man," Xander said. He gave Buffy a smug expression.
"Willow, stay with Stephen. We have to keep the portraits out of the wrong hands," Giles said. "And try to keep Buffy's mother at bay." Looking to Xander and Buffy he said, "We should be going then."
As the three turned to leave, Willow reached out and grabbed Xander's hand. He turned back to face her and she leaned in close to him. "Be careful," she whispered.
He squeezed her hand and smiled. "Hey, I'm Mr. Careful."
"No you're not."
Xander pursed his lips. He wasn't. "Well I will be. Careful, I mean." He squeezed her hand again. Before she could speak he was gone.
Willow wrapped her arms around herself and stood alone in the crowd. When she finally turned to look for Stephen he was right behind her.
"They've gone to the library then?"
She nodded.
"I guess that leaves just you and me to get these paintings."
"I guess," Willow said sadly.
"I'm sure everything will work out." He took her arm and led her towards the paintings. "I like your dress. You look very nice."
She smiled at up him. "Thank you." Suddenly in horror she put her hand to her mouth. "Oh my God."
"What?" Stephen said, concern in his voice.
"I never thanked you for saving me from those..." she looked around "...uh, those guys."
Stephen looked confused for a moment. "Oh yes. That. It was no trouble." He thrust his chin toward the portraits ahead of them. "Let's get these, shall we?"
* * *
Severian watched the sudden excitement of the Slayer and her companions with interest. What could be going on, he wondered? He edged his way closer to them through the crowd. Standing a few feet behind them, he listened as they discussed Spike's appearance at the school library. Stealing books?
Severian grimaced suddenly. Spike was supposed to be showing the Hellmouth to Claudia. Knowing her, he should have been dead seconds afterward. Instead he was in the library, stealing the Watcher's books.
This was bad. Either Spike had killed Claudia, something he doubted very much, or something else had gone wrong. He pulled his phone to make sure it was turned on. If something out of the ordinary had occurred, he should have been called. Unless...
Damn that woman! Claudia was deliberately keeping him in the dark.
Scowling, he pushed his way through the crowd and outside. Not only was the Slayer he was supposed to keep an eye on headed toward a dangerous fight, it looked like Claudia was making another attempt to move up in the pecking order.
With impeccable timing and probably a bitch of a plan.
Should have seen that coming, he thought. It's been a hundred years since she removed the vampire above her. You could set a clock by her. Every hundred years she "earned" a promotion. What is the matter with me? Have I gone blind and stupid?
Severian stomped through the parking lot and went to the back of his car. Opening the trunk, he lifted out a long heavy bag. Enough playing around, he thought. I may be going senile but I can still remind Claudia-and Spike-of what it means to mess with an Assyrian.
He unzipped the bag and pulled out a pair of stakes. Then, his face grinning in the darkness, he took out a dark black assault rifle and cradled it in his arms.
Oh yes, he thought. We Assyrians took that good-natured fun called war and turned it into something nasty.
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Joyce Summers' art gallery was full of people. Sunnydale's elite crowded the twisting spaces, making small talk and trying to be seen by one another. A few were actually there for the art.
Not many, thought Buffy, but enough to keep the gallery in business and her mother afloat. And me in such stylish clothing. She smiled as she spun deftly through the throngs. The place was dark in the middle but track lighting illuminated most of the walls. Dark shadows and bright regions competed to give the gallery a festive, nightclub type atmosphere.
This dress looks good on me. Buffy admired herself in the reflection of a shiny metal sculpture. Black, sleeveless, spaghetti straps to hold it up and the hem just above her knees. She stood smiling for a moment before she remembered the real reason she was here.
Those dang pictures. Pouting, she looked off in the direction of the European section of the gallery. Through the forest of people she could make out Giles and Stephen. They were by the portraits, studying them. The paintings gave her the creeps. Knowing that it was likely one or more of those things held something horrible made her skin crawl every time she went near.
Buffy stood up on her toes and took in the crowd around her. All these people had no idea how close they were to a world of magic, vampires and death. She bit her lip and sighed wistfully. How fortunate they were and they didn't even know it.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother glaring at her from across the room. When she turned to face her, her mother swung her arm about as if she was stirring something.
Buffy smiled apologetically and nodded. Circulate, circulate. That was her job tonight. Her normal world job, anyway. "Smile, introduce yourself and ask if you can help them with anything." Those had been her instructions. She'd heard them at least a hundred times before the show. Rolling her eyes, she steeled herself to return to the fray.
* * *
Across the room, Willow stood next to a tall, handsome man. Not as handsome as Xander, she thought, but still very nice. "Have you been to the gallery before?" she asked. She bit her tongue and hoped that she sounded professional.
The man turned from the sculpture he was studying and smiled at her.
"No, I haven't. It's very nice. I'm surprised such a small town like Sunnydale would have one of such quality," the man said.
"Well, Ms Summers works very hard." Ooo, Willow thought. That wasn't very good. Not professional at all. She looked up to see the man's reaction. He smiled down at her. He sounds vaguely foreign, she thought. She fidgeted with a sheaf of pamphlets in her hand.
"Have you worked here long?" he asked.
"No, this is my first day. I'm really just helping out..." Oh drat, Willow thought. I let it out. Now I have to tell him I'm just a high school kid helping her friend's mom. "I'm friends with Ms Summer's daughter. She asked me to help tonight."
"She's very fortunate that her daughter has such helpful friends."
Xander walked by with a drink tray in his hands. Willow smiled shyly at him as he passed. Poor Xander, she thought. All done up in that waiter's outfit. He looked rather silly.
The man next to her took a champagne glass from the tray. He started to offer it to Willow, then looking her over he said, "You're, ah, a little young I guess."
"A little," she admitted.
Xander's eyes widened at the exchange and Willow shooed him away. He left, but lurked nearby, not so subtly watching them both.
"So, can I..." the man reached for Willow's hand.
"What? Oh, yes! I'm sorry." She held out a pamphlet. "I'm supposed to give them out to everybody."
"Don't worry about it."
Xander was edging closer to try and overhear Willow's conversation when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Cordelia. Coming closer.
Oh no, he thought. She can't see me like this. He scooted off as quickly as he could without spilling the drinks. He spotted a dark corner through the throngs and headed for it.
* * *
Buffy weaved through the crowd, officially looking for somebody to talk but really just trying to look busy for her mother. She spotted Willow talking with an older man. A well dressed older man, she noted. As she drew closer she watched him shake Willow's hand and then walk away reading a pamphlet. Willow spotted her and hurried over.
"Hey Buffy." Willow stood clutching a stack of pamphlets in her hands. "I'm having so much fun" Willow waved the pamphlets. "People come and ask me questions about the art and I get to explain, just like a real job and stuff."
Buffy folded her arms and tapped her foot. "And there wouldn't be any other reason that you're having so much fun?" She tilted her head slightly at Xander, who was standing across the room. "A reason that might have something to do with a childhood fantasy coming to life this morning?"
Willow blushed and stole a glance at Xander. He was hiding in a corner of the room holding a tray with champagne glasses on it. "Maybe," she said shyly.
"Maybe?" Buffy said. She reached out and grabbed Willow's hands, knocking a few of the pamphlets to the floor. "This is the big one, Will. All you can say is maybe?" Buffy smiled slyly and leaned closer. "Oh course you realize that from now on you'll have to tell me every little detail. Every kiss, every-"
"No, no, no" Willow said. Her eyes were big and she drew back. "I can't talk details."
Buffy stamped her foot. "Yes. You have to. You've been dragging Angel details from me for months. It's time to share. Friends share things. I want you to share Xander smoochies."
Willow looked at Xander then back to Buffy. Clutching the pamphlets to her chest she shook her head from side to side.
"You're not getting out of this," Buffy said. "I think we should start with exactly what it was you were helping Xander with in the storeroom earlier." Denial crossed Willow's face. "Don't think I didn't notice." Giving her a serious look she took hold of Willow's arm at the elbow and pulled her toward a less crowded part of the gallery. "Now spill the beans girl."
Willow let out a squeak as Buffy dragged her away.
* * *
Severian watched Buffy and Willow from a distance. The red head was rather cute. Maybe when this was all over...
Naw. She's sweet. You won't touch her and you know it. He looked down at the pamphlet Willow had given him. Five hundred years ago you'd have dragged that child screaming into the night and...
His face twitched. Odd how that sort of thing just doesn't appeal anymore. Killing didn't either.
Enough of this, he told himself angrily. You have work to do. He sipped his champagne and suppressed his mental wandering. Leaning against a wall he forced himself to settle down and keep an eye on the Slayer.
* * *
Xander stood on his tiptoes and watched Buffy and Willow slide off through the crowd out of sight. What a day, he thought. He was still in a daze over how quickly things with Willow had played out. He'd gone from trying to tell her "I like you as a friend" this morning to a darkened storeroom this afternoon.
He made a show of inspecting the wallpaper as his face turned red. Thinking about Willow like that was strange. A flash of color caught his eye. Through a parting of the crowd he saw her for a moment. She twirled in a circle, her long dark blue dress spinning up and her long hair trailing out behind her. She was laughing at something Buffy was telling her and had the brightest smile on her face...
Okay, he allowed, thinking like that was nice. Strange, but nice.
The uniform he had on was a different matter. Black pants, a bow tie, cumberbun and a ruffled white shirt. He'd taken one look at it when they'd arrived and turned to flee. He'd actually made two full steps before Buffy had put a death grip on the back of his neck.
He'd been rudely shoved into a closet to change while she and Willow stood guard outside. He smiled to himself. Miss Superhero thought she could treat him like that did she? Well, he would bide his time. When the right moment came, Xander Harris would have his revenge. Oh yes. At school, in front of a lot of people.
Now what should it be, he mused. Crazy string. Naw, too junior highish. Maybe a-
"Well, look at this everybody. A pizza delivery boy hits the big time."
Cordelia. With a gaggle of Cordelia-wanna-be's.
Xander moaned internally. Would he never be free of this infernal girl? Suddenly anger sparked within him. It was her fault that he'd run off and hurt Willow's feelings so terribly this morning. Well, it was his fault technically. But it wouldn't have happened if she hadn't shown up.
He stepped forward, ready to unleash a vile retort when a hand caught his arm and pulled him to the side.
"Xander, why are you standing here? You need to carry the drinks around the room." Joyce Summers escorted Xander away.
He glanced back at Cordelia as he moved off. She stood with her arms folded, a smirk on her face.
Despair overtook him and he turned away. He'd just been saved by Buffy's mother! He would never hear the end of it.
Joyce turned to speak to Xander but before she could her cellular phone rang. "This is Joyce Summers," she answered.
"Ah...hello. I'm trying to reach Buffy Summers. This is Angel."
Joyce's eyes widened. That older boy Buffy had brought home one evening. What did he want? "Angel, she's rather busy right now. Can I have her call you later?"
By the school gymnasium, Angel pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it. Think fast, he told himself.
"Actually Ms Summers, I was trying to reach Rupert Giles. It's somewhat of an emergency and I was hoping Buffy might know where he is."
"Oh dear," Joyce said, "I hope it's nothing too serious. You're in luck, though. Rupert Giles is here. I'll put him on the phone." She took the tray from Xander and handed him the phone. "Xander, would you take this to over to Mr. Giles? I believe he was in the European section a few minutes ago."
Xander eyed the tray now in her hands. Free at last! "Oh, one phone delivery coming right up."
Gotta milk this thing for some time, Xander thought. He strolled slowly though the crowd for a bit. When he was away from Joyce he put the phone to his ear.
"So, deadboy. Is there nothing on TV?"
"Xander?!" Angel gripped the phone tightly. "Listen, I'm not kidding around here. Get Giles or Buffy on the phone now."
"Oh come on. You can't talk to me anymore? We used to be such good buds."
Angel closed his eyes for a moment. "Xander," he said forcefully, "Spike is in the library stealing everything in sight. Would you care to come down and give me a hand?"
Uh oh, Xander thought. "I'll, ah, get Giles now." He began pushing through the crowd quickly.
* * *
Giles stood before five panel portraits perplexed. He took his glasses off and leaned closely to one. "I'm afraid it's eluding me." He put his glasses back on and turned to Stephen. "Perhaps it's not here." The look on Giles' face said he didn't believe his own words. He felt an odd, creepy feeling when he was near them.
Stephen stood with one hand on his chin, studying the five. "It's here," he murmured. "Of course, what I should do is just buy them all and we'll tear them open." He pulled a small notebook from his pocket. "Do you know what the asking price is?" He sat down on the bench behind them and set the notebook down next to him.
Giles laughed. "Yes. Buy all five. Why didn't I think of that?" He looked over to see Stephen thumbing through the notebook, not laughing. "I...Are you serious?" Giles said.
Stephen found what he was looking for and put his finger on the page. "What was that? Oh, the paintings. Yes, I'm serious." He pulled a cell phone from his jacket and dialed the number his finger marked. "Is there a price listed?"
Giles looked over the painting and read the index card fixed to the wall below it. He squinted as he searched the small text for the price.
"It's...well, it's $2,000 dollars." He leaned over at a card under another painting. "This one as well. They all appear to be."
Stephen nodded, then spoke into the phone. "This is Stephen. I need to make a purchase. It'll probably be American Express, but if they don't take it here I'll need about ten thousand plus California sales tax free on one of the other cards."
Must be nice, Giles thought. He heard his name called out behind him and looked back.
"Giles!" Xander was pushing though the crowd, holding out of a phone. "We've got trouble," he said when he arrived. He thrust the phone into Giles' hand. "Angel says that Spike's in the library."
Giles pushed Xander back toward the crowd. "Go get Buffy." Giles turned away to speak into the phone, but Stephen put his hand on his arm.
"What did he just say?"
Giles gave Stephen a pained look. "Spike, the local vampire king, is apparently in the library." He put the phone to his ear. "Hello, this is Rupert Giles."
Willow and Buffy were standing in a dimly lit corner behind a statue giggling when Xander found them. He broke free of the crowd. Neither saw him till he was a few feet away.
"Xander!" Willow shouted. She jumped to the side and put the statue between herself and Xander. She peeked out from behind it, her face turning red.
Buffy put her hands on her hips and looked archly at him. "Well, look who it is-"
Xander cut her off. "Bat signal on here. Spike's in the library."
The humor left Buffy's face. "Where's Giles?"
"By the paintings. He's on the phone with Angel right now."
The three teenagers found Giles just as he hung up the phone. He turned to them with a grave expression. "We have a serious problem. Angel has just informed me that Spike is in the library stealing the research materials. Right now they are waiting for us to return."
"Waiting for us?" Buffy said. "Spike wants me to kick his ass?"
Giles shook his head. "No, apparently he is looking for something and can't find it. It may be the very book that Angel was bringing over."
"Where is Angel now?" Buffy said anxiously.
"Hiding outside." He took Buffy by the arm. "We need to get to the library as soon as possible. He mustn't be allowed to take those books."
Buffy nodded. "Let's go then." She turned to Xander. "Stay here. Cover for me with my mom."
"No way," Xander said. "I'm coming with you."
Buffy shook her head. "Xander-"
"It may be a good idea." Giles interrupted. Buffy tilted her head at him in shock. "If Spike has brought a large number of..." he looked around nervously at the gallery crowd and went on more quietly "...his friends, then we may need all the help we can get."
"Thanks G-man," Xander said. He gave Buffy a smug expression.
"Willow, stay with Stephen. We have to keep the portraits out of the wrong hands," Giles said. "And try to keep Buffy's mother at bay." Looking to Xander and Buffy he said, "We should be going then."
As the three turned to leave, Willow reached out and grabbed Xander's hand. He turned back to face her and she leaned in close to him. "Be careful," she whispered.
He squeezed her hand and smiled. "Hey, I'm Mr. Careful."
"No you're not."
Xander pursed his lips. He wasn't. "Well I will be. Careful, I mean." He squeezed her hand again. Before she could speak he was gone.
Willow wrapped her arms around herself and stood alone in the crowd. When she finally turned to look for Stephen he was right behind her.
"They've gone to the library then?"
She nodded.
"I guess that leaves just you and me to get these paintings."
"I guess," Willow said sadly.
"I'm sure everything will work out." He took her arm and led her towards the paintings. "I like your dress. You look very nice."
She smiled at up him. "Thank you." Suddenly in horror she put her hand to her mouth. "Oh my God."
"What?" Stephen said, concern in his voice.
"I never thanked you for saving me from those..." she looked around "...uh, those guys."
Stephen looked confused for a moment. "Oh yes. That. It was no trouble." He thrust his chin toward the portraits ahead of them. "Let's get these, shall we?"
* * *
Severian watched the sudden excitement of the Slayer and her companions with interest. What could be going on, he wondered? He edged his way closer to them through the crowd. Standing a few feet behind them, he listened as they discussed Spike's appearance at the school library. Stealing books?
Severian grimaced suddenly. Spike was supposed to be showing the Hellmouth to Claudia. Knowing her, he should have been dead seconds afterward. Instead he was in the library, stealing the Watcher's books.
This was bad. Either Spike had killed Claudia, something he doubted very much, or something else had gone wrong. He pulled his phone to make sure it was turned on. If something out of the ordinary had occurred, he should have been called. Unless...
Damn that woman! Claudia was deliberately keeping him in the dark.
Scowling, he pushed his way through the crowd and outside. Not only was the Slayer he was supposed to keep an eye on headed toward a dangerous fight, it looked like Claudia was making another attempt to move up in the pecking order.
With impeccable timing and probably a bitch of a plan.
Should have seen that coming, he thought. It's been a hundred years since she removed the vampire above her. You could set a clock by her. Every hundred years she "earned" a promotion. What is the matter with me? Have I gone blind and stupid?
Severian stomped through the parking lot and went to the back of his car. Opening the trunk, he lifted out a long heavy bag. Enough playing around, he thought. I may be going senile but I can still remind Claudia-and Spike-of what it means to mess with an Assyrian.
He unzipped the bag and pulled out a pair of stakes. Then, his face grinning in the darkness, he took out a dark black assault rifle and cradled it in his arms.
Oh yes, he thought. We Assyrians took that good-natured fun called war and turned it into something nasty.
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