Blanching, Buffy ran her knife across the rodent's throat, putting it out of its misery. The sound it made was gurglier than that of the R.O.U.S.s when they had their movie death.
"So why is it that the Watchers are going to the museum instead of us?" asked Xander.
Using the toe of her boot to push the rat out of the way, she said, "Apparently two men with British accents, dressed in tweed, fit in better at an exhibit opening than high school students."
"I still think I could have been quite convincing. At least as being an undergrad," said Willow. "It would probably be too much of a stretch to pull off being a grad student."
"You'd be more believable than the grad student," Oz assured her.
"As long as it means we get our hands on that pipe and get rid of the rats, then Giles and Wesley can be double-oh-five and six anytime," said Buffy.
"It's just as well, this way we get to be the Three Musketeers," said Willow."Complete with our own rapiers. Or at least Buffy has one."
If anyone could find the silver lining to this, it was Willow.
"But there are four of us." Xander pointed out.
"That's okay, d'Artagnan joined Athos, Porthos, and Aramis," she explained.
"So why not the Four Musketeers?"
"It's like the Hitchhiker's Guide books being called a trilogy," said Oz.
"Oh, okay. So if the musketeers had swords, did the swordeteers have muskets?" asked Xander.
"Another mystery of history we'll never know the answer to," said Buffy, wiping the gore from her blade.
As she stood, Xander gave her a nudge, pointing down the street and whispering. "Buffy. Do you see that cat? Do you think it's the one Wesley was talking about?"
"Where?" Buffy squinted, trying to see where he was pointing. "And why are we whispering?"
"Didn't want to scare it off?"
"Good point. But what are the odds of it being the same cat?"
"Ooh, I see it!" yelped Willow before dropping her voice. "It's up ahead, kitty-corner from the Magic Box. Does it have that white mark on its chest Wesley talked about?"
"Kitty-corner," Xander repeated, grinning.
"I don't know. The way it's all tucked up, I can't tell," said Buffy.
As if on cue, it sat up and looked directly at them.
"Guess we can stop whispering," said Buffy, squinting at it. "It does have some sort of mark on its chest."
"I think it is a cross," Oz said.
Buffy turned toward him. "You can see that far?"
He shrugged. "Werewolf thing, I guess. But Xander's the one with the good eyes, noticing it first."
"Thanks," replied Xander.
Buffy and Willow exchanged a look. That, what ever that just was, was major. It seemed weird to follow it up with cat talk. But then again, even weirder to talk about the normalizing of relations.
Hesitantly Willow asked, "Should we get the cat or check in at the Magic Box first?"
"I'm not sure that four teenagers asking questions about whether there's been any run in product lately is going to make Mr. Whosit – or whatever the current owner's name is – eager to answer."
"Talk about another high turnover job in good old Sunnydale," observed Xander. "If we graduate, I say we do whatever it takes to get out of this town. Or at least find safe work like… Is there safe work in this town?"
Oz's unexpected overture must have affected Xander more than he wanted to admit. That was some quality clown babble. Buffy decided the best plan was to keep going as if he weren't babbling like a brook. Possibly create a little breathing space as well.
"Willow, do you and Oz want to see what he'll tell you? Xander and I will keep an eye on the mystery cat."
"Sure, Buffy!"