"So you guys are coming to the show, right?" Oz asked a few moments after the girls left. He turned to face the others, rubbing his hands eagerly. Buffy, Xander, Giles and Wesley just stared at him, still a bit dumbfounded. Cordelia walked down the rows of books uninterestedly.
"I don't know, Oz. Those girls are…" Buffy began.
"Hot?" Xander supplied.
"Incredibly talented?" Oz offered.
"Attractive in their impertinence?" Wesley said suddenly. Everyone turned to stare at him. "What?" he asked defensively.
"They're just…strange," Buffy finished lamely.
"Who's strange?" Willow asked as she walked through the library doors. She smiled at Oz and walked over to him, taking his hand.
"The girls in the band playing at the Bronze tomorrow. They're going to let me play with them, you have to come and watch. You will, won't you?" Oz pleaded, nearly brushing noses with Willow as he used his most convincing puppy dog face (which, it being Oz, was pretty dang convincing). Willow grinned.
"Of course I'll come, if it's that important to you," she said. "Who's playing?"
"Oh, this way cool LA band called Cecelia Song. They're so awesome, Willow, you're just gonna…" Oz put his hands on his head excitedly in an attempt to find the right words, "you're gonna…" he floundered, looking at the several staring faces around the room, "stare at Oz because he's acting incredibly uncool."
"Not 'incredibly.' Just kinda," Willow smiled, innocently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Xander grinned.
"Well, you know I'll be there. That Lisa chick is h--" he began, but Buffy and Willow both shot him looks, "--alf the woman Buffy or Willow is, but you know, gotta support Oz," he said, half-heartedly punching the air for emphasis. Oz gave him a strange look and Xander slapped him on the back lightly. "Always here for ya, man." Cordelia looked a bit put out that Xander hadn't mentioned her and exacted revenge by walking over and engaging Wesley in a deep conversation about the latest "Cosmo."
"Thanks," Oz said off-handedly. "Coming, Buff?"
"Nope. Patrol," she said simply.
"Oh, let Giles take it. You've got to come," Willow whined. Giles looked up from the counter and opened his mouth in protest. He thought better of it, though, and said grudgingly, "Yes, I could take patrol tomorrow night, if you want." Bloody hell, I actually wanted to see that show…
"Don't sound so excited, Giles."
Xander grinned evilly. "Well, I don't know, Buff. Giles might need to go to get his 'book,'" he began, emphasizing the word book by using the universal parentheses hand sign, "back from Laura. Right, Giles? Very important book? Need saving from pretty girl?" Giles shot him a look.
Buffy's eyes widened slightly. "Sounds dangerous. You should tackle that issue, Giles. I'll stay with the safe demon-hunting job." Besides, that way Buffy gets quality time with Angel. Win-win, she added internally.
"You're sure?" Giles asked hesitantly. "You wouldn't rather go to the…concert with your friends?" Oh please let her say no please please…
"No!" Buffy said firmly. "You go. Associate with real people instead of fictional ones. It'll be good for you, Giles," she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. "And now, if we've all made our weekend plans, Biology beckons."
Giles nodded, thankful, and the students gathered their books and began to walk out of the door. "We'll see you after school, okay?" Willow asked.
"Sounds fine," Giles replied, picking up another book and moving to his familiar spot at the table. "Have fun in classes, all," he said just as the doors slammed shut.
"I'm so glad the Slayer is becoming more responsible with her patrolling duties," Wesley remarked as soon as the younger set was safely out of sight. Giles glanced up from his book at the younger man.
"Yes, she's stopped being so…impertinent. But perhaps you found that a bit attractive, Wesley, are you sure her maturity is such a good thing?" Giles asked quietly, returning his attention to his book. Wesley stared, surprised, at the older Watcher.
"When I said that, I didn't mean--"
"I know."
"But you must understand--"
"I do." Giles smiled a bit as the younger man walked off in a huff. The day was shaping up quite nicely.
***
"Bored now," Gina said, dangling Laura's library book from two fingers. "Stupid book. No pictures," she whined. Lisa rolled her eyes as she tuned her guitar. Laura didn't respond, as she was much too busy reapplying eyeliner. "Can we go play?" Gina asked petulantly. She glanced at the clock, which read 7:30. "Play now?"
"Where would we go?"
"Hmm…dunno."
"There's a UC in Sunnydale, you know," Laura said as she examined her reflection in the mirror. "We could go there and stir up some trouble."
"Oh, fun!" Gina laughed, bouncing lightly on the hotel bed. "Can we? Huh, Lisa?"
"You can't cause any trouble, Gina. Remember last time?"
"Not my fault. Stupid boys."
Laura put the top back on her eyeliner and faced the two other girls. "Oh, come on, Lisa. College boys, easily swayed. Pretty please?"
"Like trouble," Gina pouted. "Trouble's fun," she grinned. Lisa regarded the two girls for a moment before breaking into a smile. "All right. To the Mirthmobile!"
"Yay!" Gina cried, jumping off the bed. Laura grinned and checked her eyeliner for smudges one last time as they hurried out the door.
***
Laura, Lisa and Gina walked around the quad of UC Sunnydale for nearly 20 minutes, wandering aimlessly as they searched for a good opportunity to wreak havoc. Laura said she had an idea and suddenly left the other two and made a beeline for a large group of students. In five minutes, she was walking back to the others with a stunned boy in tow.
She brought him up to Lisa and Gina and smiled slyly. "Russell, this is Lisa and Gina," she said, pointing to each girl. Gina sauntered over to the young man, staring at him blatantly. "Oooh, pretty," she declared, touching the buttons on his letterman jacket lightly. "Pretty pretty," she said again, moving up to his hair as she unreservedly began to run her fingers through it.
"It's…actually…um, Randall," the boy pointed out as Gina continued her exploration.
"Whatever," Laura said distractedly, glancing at Gina and snapping her fingers. Gina pouted and took her place besides Lisa, still staring at Randall ravenously.
"Want to help us incite a riot, Randy?" Laura asked mischievously. She raised an eyebrow slightly, waiting for his response. He gazed at her and said cautiously, "What would I get in return?"
"Hmm…good question. How about…Gina as a playmate? Sound fair?" Laura said, patting Gina lightly on the shoulder. Lisa snickered as Gina walked back over to Randall and resumed her game.
"Oh yeah. Yeah, definitely fair," Randall squeaked.
"Good. Now, here's a list of what we need…" Laura began, pulling Randall away from Gina and leaning her head conspiratorially toward his.
***
The campus of UC Sunnydale had seen more than its share of supernatural occurrences. Of course, they weren't really supernatural. Just lots of natural disasters and rashes of spontaneous deaths and neck openings on students. Consequently, UC Sunnydale's student body was particularly jaded and worldly--even more so than normal college students.
Amazing, then, how an impromptu performance by an indie LA band could halt progress on the quad quite completely.
Laura, Lisa and Gina grinned down at the crowd from their lofty position on a picnic table. Randall, urged on by the promise of casual…everything from Gina, had managed to intimidate the audio-visual lab into equipping the girls with mics and attaching them to the PA system. From the table, Gina gave Randall a little wink.
They just stood there for a moment, taking in the scene. Students had begun milling around, as three interesting-looking (re: scantily clad) women standing on a tabletop wasn't a common sight (even in southern California). Lisa shoved Laura a little, and Laura took a tiny step forward, posturing for the crowd. A few whistles pierced the air, but none of the girls paid them heed.
"Hel-lo, Sunnydale!" Laura suddenly shouted, striking a pose. Most of the crowd cheered. Laura flashed her stage grin and cocked her head slightly. "Do you even know what we are, Sunnydale?"
"HOT!" One male voice echoed from the back of the milling crowd. The three girls snickered.
"Besides that," Laura said. "We are Cecelia Song. And we LOVE Sunnydale. And we are playing at the Bronze tomorrow. And we are going to give you a sneak preview," she said. "That is, if you promise to come to our performance. Will you do that, Sunnydale?" she asked, pouting for effect. Gina and Lisa both assumed beseeching expressions and the males in the audience howled their consent.
Laura grinned at the audience. "Good," she said simply, and stepped back into her spot with the other two girls. They gave each other a quick glance, and the performance suddenly began.
Lisa began the song, softly and slowly singing as she swayed her hips almost imperceptibly. During the third line, however, she surprised everyone by gradually crescendoing into an almost-scream. Laura and Lisa joined in on the last line of the first refrain just as loudly. The crowd cheered them on; all three girls were grateful to Randall and his buddies for forming a protective wall around their table.
I can't get no satisfaction
I can't get no satisfaction
'Cause I try, and I try, and I try, and I try
I can't get no, I can't get no
Laura suddenly took the lead, walking up to the very edge of the table and glaring at the audience with the piercing gaze familiar to all those in the business.
When I'm drivin' in my car
And that man comes on the radio
And he's tellin' me more and more
About some useless information
Supposed to fire my imaGination
I can't get no, oh no no no
Hey hey hey, that's what I say
The three girls all jumped around during the refrain, encouraging the audience to sing along. Car alarms began blaring in the parking lots, which only seemed to add to the incredible energy in the quad. The students in the front of the crowd had formed an impromptu mosh pit (to a Stones song, the girls noted ironically) and they all screamed along as Gina, Lisa and Laura sang the refrain at the top of their lungs.
I can't get no satisfaction
I can't get no satisfaction
'Cause I try, and I try, and I try, and I try
I can't get no, I can't get no
Gina suddenly took the lead, sauntering into the "spotlight" as she sang. At the third line, she grinned wickedly and pantomimed taking off her shirt, inciting howls of frustration and admiration from the crowd.
When I'm watchin' my TV
And that man comes on to tell me
How white my shirts can be
Well he can't be a man 'cause he doesn't smoke
The same cigarettes as me
I can't get no, oh no no no
Hey hey hey, that's what I say
I can't get no satisfaction, the girls all sang at top-volume, maintaining the pitch and velocity throughout the rest of the song.
I can't get no girly action.
'Cause I try, and I try, and I try, and I try
I can't get no, I can't get no
When I'm ridin' round the world
And I'm doin' this and I'm signing that
And I'm tryin' to make some girl
Who tells me baby better come back later next week
'Cause you see I'm on losing streak
I can't get no, oh no no no
Hey hey hey, that's what I say
I can't get no, I can't get no
I can't get no satisfaction
No satisfaction, no satisfaction, no satisfaction
They ended, letting the note die away into the spring air. The crowd screamed their approval and Lisa, Gina and Laura bowed shortly. "Didja like that, Sunnydale?" Gina asked the crowd, raising her hands above her head. The students shouted and clapped and stormed about. Many of the males in the audience had begun to get glassy-eyed after the song, swaying slightly as they cheered until they were lightheaded.
Lisa sauntered up to the front of the table and spoke, her mic magnifying her voice for the audience. "One more song, kids. We've got to rest our voices for tomorrow night. And it's past our bedtime," she grinned.
The audience waited, silent, for another song. After a moment, the three girls began, singing slowly and softly and in perfect harmony, and almost mournfully. The notes rang out over the audience, clear and so bright one could almost see them.
Go to sleep, little baby
Go to sleep, little baby
Your momma's gone away and your daddy's gonna stay
Didn't leave nobody but the baby
Go to sleep, little baby,
Go to sleep, little baby,
Everybody's gone and the cotton and the corn
Didn't leave nobody but the baby
You're sweet, little baby
You're sweet, little baby
Honey and the rock and the sugar don't stop
gonna bring that bottle to the baby
Don't you weep, pretty baby
Don't you weep, pretty baby
She's long gone with 'er red shoes on
gonna need another lovin' baby
Go to sleep little baby
Go to sleep little baby
You and me and the devil makes three
don't need no other lovin' baby
Go to sleep, little baby
Go to sleep, little baby
Come lay your bones on the alabaster stones
and be my ever lovin' baby
The last note died away slowly, leaving the audience silent and stunned. The three girls on the table looked around almost nervously, as no one in the crowd had moved. Every male in the audience had achieved in his eyes a glassy sort of look, as if they had all gone into a trance. Some members of the audience that night later claimed they could see the notes of the song, hovering above them, caught shimmering in the night air. And indeed, there seemed to be a green-glow ethereal haze surrounding the quad.
Someone in the back finally began to clap, and the idea caught on; the applause rippled toward Cecelia Song in waves. They smiled and hopped off the table one-by-one, protected still by Randall and his friends, who were looking rather dazed themselves. Gina tapped on Randall's shoulder and gave him a grin as he escorted her off the quad. Laura and Lisa had already run ahead, being pestered by at least 15 boys each as they fought over the driver's seat.
"Wanna come have fun now?" Gina asked Randall innocently, tossing her hair out of her eyes. "And get me lots of presents?" she grinned. He grinned back.
"Most definitely."
She and Randall jumped into the back of the convertible amid the other chosen few Laura and Lisa had selected from the crowd, and they zoomed away from the campus and into the new night sky.
Four hours later
"Well, they didn't last very long, did they?"
"That's the problem with college boys. No stamina."
"True, they can only learn that from experience."
"Ah well. We educated them, then."
The three girls snickered as they walked down a back street of Sunnydale. Laura flicked a cigarette butt into a nearby gutter and lit up a new one.
"Christ, Laura. You know those things age you prematurely. You'll have brown teeth," Lisa sneered as she reached into her purse for her hidden flask.
"Right, and your liver is just standing up and thanking you for a few millennia of alcoholism," Laura snorted. "Besides, this face'll last forever," she grinned nastily. "You know that."
"Unfortunately," Gina muttered. She shrieked and laughed as Laura tried to shove her into a ditch. "Well, it's not my fault you got cursed with pasty-pale skin, Goth Girl!"
"My skin's not pasty!" Laura cried, clenching her fingers into a fist and hauling back into her familiar punching stance. Gina suddenly left off teasing Laura and stood stock still in the middle of the street. The other two girls stopped as well, looking at their third member with interest.
"What's up, buttercup?" Lisa asked Gina, glancing at her curiously. Gina frowned for a minute, then broke into a huge smile.
"Well, I didn't know he was in town!" she laughed, and began walking in a completely different path. Laura and Lisa looked at each other for a moment before running after. "Gina, have you gone crazy? The only thing that way is the cemetery!"
***
It was a good night to be a vampire.
More specifically, it was a good night to be Spike the Vampire.
There had been some sort of festivity at UC Sunnydale, which meant lots of disoriented college girls looking to have a good time. And Drusilla wouldn't think much of an occasional bite. So there was lots of fun there.
And Dru had relented on the record collection controversy, so he was going to be reunited with his good friend Johnny Rotten as soon as he could find where he stashed them all in the old crypt.
And the Slayer was nowhere to be found. Probably doing something stupid and heroic like saving the world with her groupies in tow. Far far away from his old crypt.
Truly, the night could not have a down-side.
***
Gina walked determinedly through the graveyard, hopping over tombstones and tromping flower arrangements when they got in her way.
"Gina, you just walked all over that bunch of lilies…"
"So?"
"Well, it was pretty."
"So?"
"So would you mind telling us why you're walking through a cemetery like a woman on a mission?"
Gina didn't answer, she just kept her steady drill-sergeant gait and stomped firmly on a rather beautiful (and expensive) wreath of white roses.
Five minutes later she stopped suddenly at a decrepit old crypt. "Why the hell would he be here?" she wondered aloud. Laura and Lisa caught up with her and gave each other worried looks. Maybe Gina's less-than-intelligent act hadn't been an act after all…
"Um…who?" Lisa ventured tentatively.
"But I know he's here, it's absolutely clear…" she trailed off, still ignoring Laura and Lisa. She began banging on the entrance of the crypt. "He's here, I know he's here! Oh, you'll love him, girls, he's absolutely the most fun ev—" she was cut off as the crypt entrance was suddenly flung wide open.
A man with decidedly platinum hair and an obvious penchant for black leather stood in front of them. He glared at them crossly, a crate of old records in one hand and the other holding the crypt door firmly in place.
"What do you want?" he questioned sharply, more interested in not dropping his records than in greeting his guests.
"Wills! Don't you recognize me?" Gina cried happily, throwing her arms out in a gesture of friendliness. The man looked up from his record collection and gave her a thorough looking-over. His eyebrows suddenly raised in recognition.
"…Gina?"
"Ha, you do remem—" Gina began, but she was not allowed to finish her statement, as the man suddenly slammed the crypt door shut in her face.
***
"Come on, William! Open up!" Gina shouted as she pounded on the crypt door. "Wills?" Laura and Lisa both stared at her in amusement and confusion. She continued to pound on the door to no avail, and finally became frustrated and walked ten paces away from the door.
"Gina? Doing all right there?" Lisa asked. Gina didn't answer, just stared intensely at the door for a moment, before letting out a piercing scream and rushing toward it. She suddenly jumped and planted both feet against the door, which still stood. Gina didn't, however, and as she crashed fantastically to the ground, Laura and Lisa both burst into hysterical laughter. Gina got up, an intense frown on her face, and dusted herself off as she surveyed her two partners in crime who were now both writhing on the ground with laughter.
"Shut up, you guys," she grumbled, going back to the crypt door. Laura and Lisa couldn't obey as they lay on the ground gasping for air.
"WILLIAM! William, you bloody stupid wanker if you don't open this door right now—" she began. And then the door suddenly opened.
The man obviously named William stood in the doorway, surveying Gina with an intense look of loathing. "Well, hey, kid, how's tricks? Gawd, what the hell did you do to your hair? That'll take some getting used to. But hey, it looks good. Very edgy. Very…sculpted. How much hair gel do you go through in a month?" Gina asked lightheartedly. The man walked out of the doorway and laid his records carefully on the ground. He then stalked over to Gina.
"What in the name of all that's unholy are you doing here, wench?" he growled, advancing on Gina. She didn't cower a bit, which was something he was obviously unused to.
"Oh, not much," she said brightly. "Playing at the Bronze tomorrow. Hey, wanna come?" she asked, giving the man a wide smile. "Free passes!"
"No thank you. I've had enough of your singing to last me two hundred lifetimes," he snarled. "And just where do you get off calling me 'William'? 'Wanker' I could understand, I get called that a lot nowadays, but William?"
"Well, that's your name."
"No. The name's Spike. And don't get used to it, as I'm sure we won't be seeing much of each other. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go be anywhere else now."
Gina pouted. "Oh, you're not still sore about that whole…vampire thing, are you? It's been over a century."
"No, actually, I rather like that part. It's the whole seducing me and taking all my money and leaving me stranded in Brighton with nothing more than a pair of women's underthings. D'you know how many laws there are in Brighton against men wearing women's underthings in public? Especially to dinner theatre?" Spike asked grudgingly. Laura and Lisa both clapped a hand against their mouths as they tried to muffle their laughter.
"Um…oops?" Gina supplied. Spike glared at her. "Well, that was a whole century ago, Will. I've grown a lot since then, I'm more mature now." Laura couldn't help herself and snorted into her hand. Spike looked at her quickly as she bit her lip.
"Um, sorry. She is…lots…um. She's mature." Laura nodded her head in an effort to look sincere.
"When compared to what?" he deadpanned.
"…Ever seen 'Billy Madison'?" Lisa joked. Spike looked at her quizzically. "Um. Right. Guess not then."
"Who are they?" he asked Gina interestedly.
Gina looked over at the two girls, as if seeing them for the very first time, and said. "Oh. Those are the other two girls in the band. They're like me too."
"Obviously not. They can use words with more than one syllable."
"Oh, now don't be bitter, Wills," she said calmly as Spike walked over to the other girls.
"Oh, now you're a pretty little thing," he said coolly, looking Lisa over. She regarded him boredly.
"I know. Gee, you're so astute, Mister Vampire Man with a Bad Dye Job."
Spike smirked at her, and turned to Laura. "Is she always like this?"
"No. Sometimes she's mean," Laura said, a smirk on her face as well. He reached over and touched a lock of her hair.
"Pity I don't like redheads. You sound like you're fun."
"Nah, you couldn't handle me," Laura said decidedly, crossing her arms over her chest in an effort to block Spike's view. "Too much male posturing; you're compensating for something." Spike's demeanor changed in an instant. He walked back over to Gina.
"I don't like her," he told the blonde. "She thinks she's clever." Gina was busy looking through his record collection.
"Yes, nasty habit of hers…" she said distractedly, holding up a Sex Pistols record. "Too much early punk. You know, William, I think you'd do well to invest in some jazz. Get rid of those violent tendencies," she stated. She looked up at the vampire and smiled slowly. "Not that I mind the violent tendencies. Some of them were quite entertaining." Spike flinched as though he'd been slapped. Gina stood up and grinned lazily at him. "Remember, Wills? Remember the night at the fair? You said you loved me then." She wrapped an arm around his waist, and Spike suddenly shoved her away and distanced himself from her.
"Yeah, and that was before you told Angel and Drusilla it was my lifelong dream to become a vampire. And before you told me you were over 3000 years old. And before you told everyone in Bath that I liked little boys," he snarled.
"Oh, that last one wasn't me," Gina piped up, unabashed by Spike's accusations.
"Well who was it then?" he growled.
"I dunno. Maybe Johnny Chaplain?"
Spike looked dumbfounded. "That wanker said that?" He stared at his hands for a moment before he roared "BLOODY HELL! He ruined my reputation, that little toad! I swear if I had the chance I'd kill him all over again! With lots more bloodshed and mangling!"
Gina giggled. "Of course you would, hon. Now…you wouldn't mind giving us a ride back to our car, would you? It's dark out and we have a few decades' catching up to do and we don't want to get into any trouble," she said innocently, twirling her hair. Spike snorted.
"Sure you don't. And yes, I most definitely mind giving you a ride, as the last time I spent more than ten minutes in your company I ended up undead. Now, if you'll excuse me," he said pertly, picking up his records and walking swiftly away from them.
Gina stared at him, dumbfounded. "I won't forget this, you…you…peroxided prick!" she shouted. Lisa and Laura looked at her in amazement.
"Nice one. Think of that yourself?" Laura asked.
"Shut up. Let's go home."
***
"Oh, pretty please a detour? Need caffeine jolt…must…have…caffeine," Laura said, throwing yet another cigarette butt into the ditch and pretending to stumble all over the street. Lisa and Gina both rolled their eyes at her, and followed her lead into the coffeehouse. Gina was still grumbling about her run-in with William/Spike, and Lisa was inwardly thankful that Laura had provided her a moment's relief from Gina's play-by-play analysis of the conversation ("But when he said this, I think he really meant…").
Laura ran inside before the others and walked directly up to the cashier. "Yeah, hi, double mocha grande with extra whipped cream from a can, not that awful…tub-stuff, and little chocolate shavings on top. Oh, and I'll give you five bucks if you'll put the can of whipped cream on the side." The cashier, who looked a bit dazed, nodded and began to put Laura's order together.
Laura drummed her fingers impatiently on the counter. She saw Lisa and Gina flirting with some very "coffeehouse" boys on the other side of the room and rolled her eyes. She had had enough of the opposite sex for--
"Laura? What a surprise!" a familiar male voice sounded behind her. She whipped around and very nearly collided with Giles and his drink. Her eyes grew wide with astonishment.
"Um. Hi?" she said tentatively, as Giles held out his hand. Laura shook it hesitantly, extremely flustered, and, truth be told, more than a little willing to amend her earlier thought.
"It's…uh, it's Giles. From the library this morning?" Giles said embarrassedly, glancing around the room. Laura laughed a bit, more at her ease.
"I remember. I stole your book. Come to get it back, have you?" she teased as she plunked down the money for her drink and took the cup. Giles smiled a bit.
"Um, no, actually, I have a long-standing engagement here," he began, offering his arm and guiding Laura to a table very near the front of the room as he spoke. Laura ignored the loud whoops of encouragement coming from Lisa's and Gina's table. "Every Friday night." Laura looked down at her drink.
"Ohhhh. Is this a female sort of engagement, Sir Giles? Have a nasty little coffeehouse rendezvous?" she grinned. Giles laughed, a bit shocked.
"Well, I suppose it is, in a manner of speaking. All except for the…rendezvous part. Laura, meet Layla," he said, hauling a guitar case onto the table and opening it. Laura gazed at the instrument in wonder.
"Wow," she said. "It's so…big."
Giles smiled proudly. "Well, thank you."
Laura touched it tentatively. "Can I…touch it?"
"Of course. Just be careful, it's more sensitive than it looks."
"Oh, I will."
They both seemed to realize the double meanings of their conversations at the same time. Laura blushed crimson and Giles coughed, trying to change the subject as he handed the guitar to her.
"I see…Lisa and Gina have made some new friends," he said, nodding over to the other two-thirds of the band. Laura smiled ruefully.
"Lisa and Gina do well in large groups of…very grungy looking boys, what the heck?" she wondered, staring at the boys at the other table incredulously. "Oh, gross, girls. We can do better than that."
Giles stared at her. "Um, sorry," she said, turning her attention back to the guitar and her drink.
"Quite all right."
She handed the guitar back to Giles and reached for the can of whipped cream and shook it violently. "Any food that comes in an aerosol can automatically receives a rating of 'cool,'" she said firmly. She tipped the can upside down and held it in both hands and she proceeded to create a tower of whipped cream eight inches tall. Giles' eyes widened in amazement. Laura looked up from her creation, licking a finger as she steadied her own whipped Leaning Tower of Pisa. She looked up at him. "Want some?" she asked innocently, holding out the can.
"Er…no thanks," he said dazedly, waving to a coffeeshop employee's signal. "Actually, I think I'm being called up. D'you want to stay and, um," he mumbled, gesturing toward the stage.
"Well yeah. Wouldn't miss Stodgy LibraryMan shedding his bookworm demeanor for anything," Laura grinned. Giles nodded and walked up to the stage. A few of the coffeehouse patrons (obviously regulars, they could barely hold their cups, their hands were shaking so violently) applauded as he walked over to the microphone and chair.
"Thank you, thank you all. I'm…Rupert Giles and I'd like to introduce a new friend of mine. Three new friends, actually," he said, scratching his forehead with his guitar pick. "Lisa and Gina, sitting over there in the corner," Lisa and Gina both got up and took very low bows as the boys they were sitting with clapped and cheered raucously, "and Miss Laura, a fellow musician and bookworm." He smiled at Laura, who waved placidly to the members of the room.
"Right, and so here we go," he said, sitting on the stool and situating his guitar correctly. He strummed a few odd notes and began to sing a rather contemplative version of a well-known song.
A winter's day
In a deep and dark December
I am alone
Gazing from my window
To the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow
I am a rock
I am an island
I've built walls
A fortress deep and mighty
That none may penetrate
I have no need for friendship
Friendship causes pain
Its laughter and its loving I disdain.
I am a rock
I am an island
Don't talk of love
Well, I've heard the word before
It's sleeping in my memory
I won't disturb the slumber
Of feelings that have died
If I'd never loved, I never would have cried
I am a rock
I am an island
I have my books
And my poetry to protect me
I am shielded in my armor
Hiding in my room
Safe within my womb
I touch no one and no one touches me
I am a rock
I am an island
And the rock feels no pain
And an island never cries.
Giles finished, strumming the last string meditatively as the members of the coffeehouse clapped sedately.
He has a very nice voice. Wonder why the hell he's a librarian, Laura thought to herself as she clapped for him. Giles smiled at his audience and began again, this time playing "With or Without You" by U2.
Fifteen more minutes passed as Giles held his audience captive with his songs. They were, for the most part, very…Giles, except for his energetic performance of the Ramones' "I Wanna Be Sedated," through which Laura, Lisa and Gina giggled hysterically. Laura grinned as he finally rejoined her at the table.
"Very nice performance, Giles. Very…Mtv Unplugged. How long have you played the guitar?" she asked, pointing to the instrument Giles was putting away.
"Quite a few years, actually. Got it ages ago. Teenage lad, mad at his father, buys a guitar to put his emotional turmoil to music. Starts a band. That whole story."
"Ah. How very Nirvana of you."
"Yes. Although…to be fair, most of our songs smelled far worse than teen spirit," Giles smiled, taking off his glasses slightly and rubbing them on the tablecloth.
"Ooh! Ten points for the pop culture reference! Knew you sneaked in a few Peoples amid the old reference volumes," Laura said.
"Oh, only because Wesley steals the library's Cosmos as soon as they come in," Giles grinned. Laura snickered.
"Really?"
"Oh yes. He doesn't think I know, though."
"How interesting."
"'Disturbing,' I'd say," Giles said calmly as he sipped his drink.
"That too. Wanna play with me tomorrow night?"
Giles choked a bit on his coffee and put his cup down. "Excuse me?"
"Well, we don't have a lead guitar in the band. And now we have someone among our acquaintance who can play a lead guitar, and…" Laura trailed off, taking the whipped cream can and using it to draw a design on the tablecloth.
"Oh. …Perform with you. Well, I'm not sure I'd…blend well with your sort of band. You know, Stodgy LibraryMan?" Giles said hesitantly. Laura stopped her artistic work on the table and looked at him sharply.
"I was kidding when I said that and you know it," Laura said, punctuating her words with the nozzle of the whipped cream can. "You've been outed with your little show up there, Giles, you can't pretend you're a Forever Tweed Englishman now. …D'you have a pair of leather pants?" Laura asked suddenly, putting the nozzle into her mouth and spraying a bit into it.
"Pardon me?" Giles said, a bit dizzy from the pace of the conversation.
"Never mind, we'll just have to dress you up tomorrow for the show. You'll play for us, won't you Giles? Please?" she pouted. "I'll…give you my precious whipped cream," she pleaded, holding out the can.
Giles stared at her. "Um…perform with you? Truly? …No thanks, I don't like whipped cream," he said as Laura shoved the can into his face.
"…Oh, you'd like it after I showed you a few tricks with it."
"What?"
"Nothing," she smiled brightly, putting the can down on the table. "So you'll play with us tomorrow? We do easy songs. You'll love them. And we'll dress you up all pretty and oh everyone'll just die. You'll be so cool, Giles," Laura said emphatically.
"Well…all right," Giles smiled, clutching his cup tightly with both hands. "It'll be an adventure."
"Oh, most definitely," Laura grinned. "But don't worry, I won't let Lisa and Gina do too many mean things to you."
"Good. Because if I end up a blonde or in alligator print, I'm holding you personally responsible," he said sternly, gazing at Laura over the rims of his glasses.
"Nah, blonde's not your color. I'll take care of you, Giles," Laura said simply, grabbing the whipped cream can again and shaking it violently in preparation for another attack on her coffee cup.
"I'm sure you will," he remarked softly as he sipped his coffee.