"They're transwhat ?"

"Translucent. They let light pass through them. An unusual skin condition, or something of that nature."

"So they're, like, the Johnny Winter of demons ? Without the guitar ?" Giles rolled his eyes at the young man. Xander, your analogies, as ever, confound logic.

"They're not albinos." he clarified. "The K'bbeth simply are clear, or cloudy, skinned. This means their juices are exposed to the sun in a rather direct way. It, er... causes the fluids to evaporate."

There was a chorus of 'ewws' from around the tabel. Buffy made a face.

"So they go from water balloons, to, like, raisinets ?" she grimaced. Tara and Willow shot each other a look, and giggled. Giles looked as if he was about to say something, but just grinned.

"Something like that."

"Add one more to the list of 'demons who hate the sun'. Big surprise there." Willow sighed, floating a pencil idly. She allowed it to waft near Tara, and tapped the eraser lightly on the tip of her nose. The blonde smiled back at her, shyly. "So, any ideas yet on what a bunch of them could be doing in town ?"

"Beyond the usual take the fight to the hellmouth ? Nada." Xander shrugged. "Hey, An ?" he called. "You want any help back there ?" The ever-cheerful shopmistress appeared from the stockroom, carrying a fat stack of grungy books.

"Got it." she said firmly. "If we're going to be married, I'm not going to allow us to fall to easily into stereotyped gender roles." There was a brief silence. "Except, for, you know, sex." she added. Xander grinned widely at her, but had the grace to look sheepish when he turned back to the group.

"I, uh... we, uh... yeah. Read some books. About weddings. Lots of stuff I never thought was involved in a wedding... well, it's involved in a wedding." Willow mouthed 'gender roles ?' at him, and he sighed. Anya set the books down in front of them.

"These are all the books Giles doesn't let me sell." she announced. "Not like anyone even knows where to get viclarian newt fingers anymore, but..." she threw up her hands, "...better safe than sorry."

"Giles- you think, whatever they're up to, it's in one of these ?" Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"It's all I've come up with, I'm afraid. This one in particular," he hefted one from the pile, "has a calendar of K'bbeth holidays and rituals. All the days of the year are covered." Tara looked up at him, in obvious research-mode. He handed it to the blonde, who cracked open a wrinkled page, flipped for a while, and glanced up at the others with a silly grin.

"H-hey." she said, showing the picture. "Everyone wanna find their birthdays ?"

Giles sat with his coffee, allowing himself at last the luxury of relaxing. He watched the five friends flip through books, cracking jokes, simply hanging around with each other. Mostly he watched Buffy, watched her hands tuck stray hairs behind her ears, watched her smile knowingly at Willow's whispered comments, watched her laugh, blink, be. If they didn't find an answer to this problem tonight, it was alright. There was tomorrow, and the next day, and God willing, the next after that. In the back of his mind he knew there'd be a day. A day when goodbyes were final. No second, or in her case, third chances.

But tonight she was here, and she was breathing, and it was enough. It was hard for him to worry about the future, when such a large part of him was still dancing over the fact that she was walking around in the sunshine again. He'd never had children. Probably never would. He only had her. They'd tied all those tricky father-daughter knots, rebellion and anger and discipline and at last, acceptance. That she was her own person, and as much as he'd like it, he couldn't protect her, or hold her back from the world, any longer. She was the slayer, after all. A primal force. But she was his daughter, too, little more than a child. She was here with him now, and it would have to be enough.

And, a quiet voice in the back of his skull added, if it takes sending a vampire around after her to keep it that way... so be it. The bells on the shop door jingled cheerfully.

"Speak of the devil.." he murmured to himself. Spike threw the blanket on the floor, smothering a few stray tendrils of fire in the motion.

"Afternoon, all." he smirked.

"Join the party, smoky." Xander looked up from his books. "We're researching the K'bbeth."

"What, the walkin' booger things ?"

"Great visual..." Buffy groaned.

"The very same." Xander asserted. Spike gave a small snort of disgust, but helped himself to an oversized tome. A cloud of dust flew up as he did so, and he stifled a sneeze. Buffy couldn't help but feel a sudden sense of unreality. Spike is sitting around a table with my friends, sneezing. A table that Xander invited him to, no less. Someday, I'm gonna ask what happened while I was... gone, she decided. Someday, when the idea doesn't scare me quite so much.

"Here's something." Willow piped up. "We know they hate the sun, right ? So it says here, there's a certain day when they can perform a ritual to make, uh, cloud cover. Like, cover up the sun for a day. So they can walk around, and, uh, you know..."

"Feed." Spike said through his teeth.

"Yeah."

"Feed ?" Buffy asked. "Feed on, like, grasses and flowers, or are we talking, feed feed ?"

"They're not very particular." Spike added. Everyone looked at him. "What ?"

"That didn't answer the question."

"They need juices." he said, resignedly. "Look at the stains on my coat, that'll tell you how squishy they are. They like humans, naturally, you're 70 percent water." The slayer smirked at him.

"What were you, a biology major ?" He flashed her what he hoped was a knowing yet sexy grin.

"Field research."

"Right."

"Anyway, they don't care how they get the fluids. First or second hand, if you know what I mean. They'll eat vampires too." he grimaced. "Me, case in point. Bloke from the alley was looking for a snack."

"Is anyone else tired of finding out just how low we are on the food chain ?" Anya pouted. Xander patted her arm gently.

"We'll go to the supermarket later, honey, and look at all the things in the frozen section, that can't eat us."

"Back on topic..." Buffy interjected, "...does it give a date for this, cloud ritual ?" Willow shook her head.

"That part's not written in English. I don't think whoever translated it knew their numeric system."

"Convenient..." her friend sniffed. "So what are we gonna do ? Just, like, watch the skies ?" There was a collective mumble from the group. Great. Another vague prediction. Get in line, Buffy thought to herself. They might have called it a day then, if Tara hadn't let out a gasp from the other side of an armchair. Willow's head snapped around.

"Tara ?"

"I-I think... you ought to look at this..." she breathed.