It was almost noon before Giles heard anything from the three girls. He was beginning to wonder if he had been something of a one-night stand, musically speaking.
And it was, of course, then that the telephone rang.
"Hello?"
"Yo, Libraryman. Ready to rock and roll?"
"Erm. Who's this?"
"Oh, brutally rebuffed! It's Lisa, Sir Giles."
"Oh."
"…Although you might know me more as 'a friend of Laura's'."
"No, of course I remember y--"
"Don't sweat it, daddy-o. Are we still on for tonight? You really going to be our guinea pig?"
"Well, yes, I suppose--"
"Rock on. We'll pick you up in ten minutes."
"T-ten minutes…?"
The dial tone that greeted Giles' last question wasn't much of a shock. The conversation hadn't lasted ten seconds. As he messed with his hair and examined his reflection in the mirror, Giles wondered what exactly La--the three girls had in store for him. They hadn't really been serious about the feather boa, had they?
Eight minutes and twenty-two seconds later, the now-familiar blue convertible screeched to a halt outside Giles' apartment building. He peered out of the open front window and Laura yelled from the backseat of the convertible, "Hey there. Are we too late? Has some other band snatched you up?"
"No, I'm still available. Y-you caught a lucky break," he shouted back reservedly, a little worried at what the neighbors might think. Laura grinned at him.
"Don't I know it. Now come on, Sir Giles. Or do you need an escort?" she asked, laughing.
"N-no, that's all right. I'll be down in a moment." And with that, Giles' head disappeared from the window.
In the car, the three girls giggled happily. "He's kinda cute, in that lost-puppy-dog way," Gina said suddenly. Lisa and Laura both grinned.
"It's the accent, I think. And the way he takes off his glasses," Lisa said thoughtfully. Laura nodded in agreement.
"And the whole…lets us do whatever we want to him in the name of fashion thing," she added.
"Yes, there's that."
"Oh, most definitely."
They all waved as Giles appeared from the apartment front doors and jogged toward them, his sweater draped over one arm. The three girls all sighed inwardly.
"But he's not as sexy as William," Gina said suddenly.
"Right. He doesn't have that whole 'I'd kill you if I got the chance' vibe. How could he even stand a chance?" Laura deadpanned. Gina wasn't allowed an opportunity to retaliate as Giles had reached the car by this point. He surprised them all by not waiting for a door to be opened, but managing, if a bit awkwardly, to vault into the backseat beside Laura.
"Nice one," Lisa said appreciatively.
"I give it a 5.7," Gina sniffed, still a little miffed at Laura for insulting Spike.
"Oh, 6.0 all the way," Lisa said as she put the car into gear.
"Bah. A 5.3 from the Russian judge," Laura grinned, taking the sweater from Giles as he sought after his seat belt. "I'm very hard to please," she explained. "And this," she said, holding up the sweater, "is what we're not going to see anymore of. No more sweaters and no more ties," she said, taking the sweater and pulling it over her head. "You're not getting this back until after the show tonight. We're going to make you a star," she said happily, poking Giles in the chest.
"Sounds right to me," he said suddenly, letting one arm dangle outside the convertible door. "Where are we going first?"
"Gotta pick up our other guest guitarist. Then we're going to go, as Gina would say, play," Lisa said as the car sped off. Giles nodded and settled back into his seat.
"…Wait, Oz is coming too?"
***
As in any small American town, there is one boutique in Sunnydale which drives parental figures insane with illogical fear. And drives their teenage children insane with the desire to walk through its doors.
This was, of course, the boutique the Extended Cecelia Song went to first.
***
"These would be fun," Gina said, holding up a pair of jeans that were more holes than fabric. "What say ye, Guitarzans?" she asked Oz and Giles.
Giles looked up from the orange vinyl pants he was scrutinizing with a look of vague fear on his features. "Definitely not."
"Oz?"
"What, are you kidding me?"
"Fine." She threw the jeans down petulantly. A store employee rushed to pick them up.
"Out of curiosity," Giles began, "just how many nicknames do you have for us?" he asked as he picked up a pair of fingerless gloves.
"Hard to tell," Gina said. "We made a list last night."
"Did you now?"
"It's Sunnydale," Lisa said. "What else were we supposed to do, go to the park and feed the pigeons?"
Giles cleared his throat, unwilling to start an argument. "I think I'll go…find a newspaper."
"Wall Street Journal, New York Times, Washington Post, or local?" the cashier at the front desk suddenly asked as Giles made a beeline for the exit. He stopped short.
"Pardon?"
"You want the Post, Wall Street, Times, or local? We got most big names here," said the clerk, chomping on his gum as he regarded the older man casually. Giles took off his glasses slowly, staring at the pierced and tattooed young man nervously. "Dyed hair and tattoos don't automatically mean someone's ignorant, dude," the cashier said boredly. "Just a little lacking in the common sense department," he grinned, a glint of metal shining in his mouth as he continued. "Now, Post, Wall Street, Times, or local?"
Giles recovered from his impromptu education remarkably quickly. "Er, local, I think would suffice." He murmured his thanks as the clerk presented him with the daily edition of Sunnydale's newspaper.
"No prob, man. And if you don't mind me saying, you'd be better in dark colors than anything on that rack," the clerk said, pointing to the rack of clothing Giles had been looking through. Laura suddenly appeared at Giles' side, gazing at the clerk with interest. Kindred spirit flashed to kindred spirit and the two regarded each other with respect.
"How long you worked here, kid?" she asked.
"Long enough to know your friend isn't going to manage the N*Sync look."
"Yeah, I know. I was thinking of an early punk sort of thing, you know? Safety pins and ripped jeans?"
"Nah, he's too nonviolent for that. Never work."
"How so?"
"You can just tell, man. Bet the guy's never been in a bar brawl in his life."
"Actually, you'd be surprised…" Giles began. The two looked at him in disbelief. "Um. Right, well, yes, I'll just…have another look around…" he said, retreating back to the rack of clothing.
***
On the other end of the store, Oz held up a pair of leopard-print purple pants. "What do you think?" he asked a nearby Lisa.
"Oh, yeah, definitely."
"You think?"
"Sure. If you're openly homosexual." She walked over to him and gently took the pants out of his grasp. "Three cardinal rules: stay away from the colors pink and purple, avoid glitter at all costs, and dragons are never as cool as people pretend they are." Oz nodded sagely. Lisa rummaged through a stack of clothing and pulled out an old top hat. "This, however," she began, "has definite potential." She put the hat on Oz's head and went back to the stack of clothing, diving into it with vigor. Oz stared at her from under the brim of the hat incredulously.
***
"You don't think he could pull off the Billy Idol thing?"
"Not without a bleach job and a facelift."
"Oh, now that was a bit harsh," came a muffled Giles voice from behind the dressing-room curtain. "I was told several times during my day that I could pass for Billy Idol."
"Yeah? Tell me, did those people who told you that ever exhibit other strange behavior? Walking into doorways, talking to plants, that sort of thing?" the clerk, whose name was Henry, asked sarcastically. Giles poked his head out of the curtain.
"You don't happen to be related to a Xander Harris, do you?"
Laura shoved him back into the dressing room. "Come on, Giles, we don't have all day."
"I'm not coming out in this."
"Well, if you're worried about coming out, I have some excellent leopard-print purple pants and a feather boa you might like."
"Young man, the percentage of strange-looking adolescents in this town is not so depleted that your disappearance would leave your employer with no one to hire. Remember that before you insult me."
"…Did you understand a word of that?" Henry asked Laura, who was standing a few feet away from the dressing room and giggling. She cleared her throat.
"Giles, please come out and let me see."
"Absolutely not."
"Oh, come on."
"I look an ass."
"What's the difference?" Henry muttered.
"I heard that, you little git."
"Bet you look dead sexy, Giles, come on. If not we can always find something else."
"All right, I'll come out. But get that miserable little boy out of my sight."
Laura motioned for Henry to make himself scarce. He rolled his eyes and went over to Oz and Lisa to referee their "discussion" about orange vinyl pants.
"He's gone now."
"Promise you won't laugh."
"All right, I promise."
Giles' head poked out of the dressing room curtain to make sure Henry was gone. He sighed. "All right." He stepped out of the room.
Laura choked.
"Oh, that's it, I'm going out to the car," he fumed, rushing back into the safety of the dressing room, pulling his shirt over his head as he fumbled to close the curtains. Laura walked over to the dressing room and helped him with the curtain.
"Well…maybe crushed velvet isn't your style."
"Well spotted. I look like Austin bloody Powers."
"With better teeth," Laura provided helpfully. She scrutinized the outfit Giles was hastily taking off. "Yellow is definitely not your color."
"Thanks so much. I amend my previous comparison. I look like a cross between Austin bloody Powers and Big Bird. Why are you watching me change?" he asked as he finally managed to take off his frilly lace cravat.
"Sheer voyeurism. Gotta get my kicks somehow." Laura grinned as she held up the glasses Giles was searching the dressing room for. He took them from her, grumbling his thanks.
"You stay here, Secret Agent Man. I'll find something less…Burt Bacharach and more Mick Jagger," she said, shutting the curtain and walking off.
"Wonderful," Giles sighed, slouching onto the bench. "Another nickname."
***
"You're not making me wear that!" Oz yelped as Lisa and Gina cornered him in the back of the store. Lisa was holding a sequined My Little Pony shirt in one hand and had a death grip on Oz's wrist with the other.
"Oh, come on. It's retro and cool," Gina said, enjoying the drama. Oz gave her a death glare.
"If you're a thirteen year old girl," Oz shot back quickly, scrambling for a way out. "Come on, guys, that's not fair! Besides, you said to stay away from glitter!" he yelled at Lisa, who was advancing on him with a twisted grin on her face.
"Oh, this isn't glitter. These are sequins. All the difference in the world," she smirked. Oz looked pleadingly up at her.
"You can't be serious."
"Sure I can. Just not often."
"I-I'd rather go naked than wear that!" he said, pointing to the shirt with fear in his eyes. Henry's head shot up from the financial pages he was perusing and he rushed over to the trio.
"Actually, the au naturel look is very in this year and--"
"Back off, Hank. He's got a girlfriend."
Henry pouted. "Figures. Oh well," he said, taking the shirt away from Lisa and holding it up to Oz's chest (by this time, Oz's face was an interesting study of a combination of fear and slight disgust). "No. Too much pink. Can we just try that little naked idea our boy here had?" he asked, turning to Lisa and Gina and smiling persuasively. The three "girls" raised their eyebrows simultaneously and turned to Oz.
"No. That was just a figure of speech. Exaggeration. I like pink. I mean…give me the shirt," Oz stammered, taking the shirt away from Henry and running into the dressing room at full speed.
"Well done, Henry," Lisa said, impressed, as she watched Oz tear into the dressing room.
"A woman's work is never done," he said, pretending to flip his hair as he waltzed back over to the front desk.
Giles' voice suddenly boomed from the other end of the store. "No, I will not wear a backwards baseball cap!" Lisa and Gina burst into giggles.
***
"Just call me Azrael Abyss," Giles muttered as he surveyed himself in the mirror. He liked the black leather pants…but the black shirt and the black coat and the black shoes and the black gloves and the black jewelry were a bit much.
"You look very--"
"Morbid?" Giles supplied.
"Well, I was going for 'mysterious'."
"I look like Spike," he muttered. Laura glanced at him quickly.
"What was that?"
"Oh, nothing. I rather like the pants, but can we…make me…not so very depressing?"
"Sir yes sir. Let's go find something yellow for you to wear."
"Truly you are an evil evil woman."
"I know."
***
Oz stared at himself in the three-way mirror, a look of horror on his face. He hesitantly touched the plaid bell-bottoms Lisa had forced upon him, and then he pulled at the polyester polka-dot shirt Gina had thrown into the dressing room.
"Oh, I think that's cool," Lisa said. "You look very offbeat and quirky. Girls love that."
"I look like a carnival puked on me," Oz said flatly, examining the platforms on his feet.
"Oh, you know, this month's Vanity Fair has a huge article on Carney fashion. Apparently it's quite the rage in Milan…" she joked. Oz stared at her.
"I look like a strung-out Bozo."
"Nah, your hair's not red enough."
"No way I'm going anywhere like this. Except maybe hell, since this is the dress code," he said loudly, holding the shirt out, unwilling to let it touch his skin.
"All right, enough dramatics from you. We'll find something else."
"Thank God."
***
Three hours and several arguments later, Giles and Oz had brand-new outfits. Laura and Henry had insisted Giles show their genius to the others by modeling his new clothes, and the members of the store had burst into applause as Giles had reemerged from the dressing room sans khakis and glasses but avec black leather pants, an emerald v-neck top and modified wingtips.
"Tres chic, mon ami," Henry said, brushing invisible lint off Giles' shirt before Giles forcibly removed him from his personal space.
Try as they might, Lisa and Gina could not coax Oz to give them a sneak preview of his outfit. After the My Little Pony and Heroin Chic Bozo incidents, Oz had ordered Lisa and Gina to stay at least two feet away from him at all times (and Henry at least twenty) because he was going to find something by himself. All he would say about his clothes was that they would all be pleasantly surprised and completely overshadowed by his fashion expertise.
At which point the three girls laughed heartily and set out to find their own costumes for the night's show.
***
A ten-minute drive away (five minutes if Laura were behind the wheel), Buffy, Willow and Xander were lounging in the Summers' living room, watching cartoons.
"How d'you suppose all those ACME products got to the middle of the desert so fast?" Buffy wondered aloud as she sprawled on the couch.
"Not only that, how d'you suppose a coyote got the funds to buy a…snowmaking machine?" Willow asked after a moment's speculation.
"Guys. It's a cartoon," Xander said. "It doesn't necessarily obey all the rules of reality," he continued sarcastically. Buffy and Willow flinched. "…Besides, the real question is why, if this coyote possesses enough brains and money to keep chasing the roadrunner, does he not give up and go to McDonald's?"
They all sat in contemplation for a moment.
"Mom?"
"Yes, Buffy?" came a voice from the kitchen.
"…How much does an anvil cost?"
***
"Oh dear."
"What?" came a muffled female voice from behind a dressing room curtain. Giles looked up from his seat on the sofa near the rooms.
"Well, it seems we had a few killings last night. Sad how these things happen," Giles said, turning the page of his newspaper to follow the main story. "Three college students at UC Sunnydale--apparently they turned up for your little feature last night and the next time someone saw them, they were dead. How depressing."
"Yeah. Our music killed someone. That'll be great for business," came a decidedly Lisa-esque voice.
"N-no, the police said the deaths appear to be from…extreme exhaustion. They can't find any marks on the bodies. How strange."
"That is strange," Gina said as she walked out of the dressing room. "Three college guys just keel over? Sounds fishy to me."
"Gina, come and zip up this dress," Laura said suddenly. Gina frowned and walked over to Laura's dressing room.
"Randall Dettweiler, Scott Fargus, and Christopher Robin, all sophomores at UC-Sunnydale…" Giles read again, trying to make sense of the new turn of events. Perhaps I should alert Buffy…
"Probably because of the Hellmouth," Gina said flippantly. "Strange things are afoot at the Circle K." Oz and Giles both froze and stared at her. "What?" she asked, a little testily.
"You know about the Hellmouth?" Oz asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Well, yeah. Duh."
"Gina!" Lisa hissed, scowling at the girl.
"What? Obviously they know about it, so why are you yelling at me?" Gina scowled at the entire room.
Laura walked out of the dressing room and shrugged. "So we all know about Sunnydale's not-so-little dark secret. Bonus, now we don't have to pretend to be normal."
Everyone glanced at Henry, who was busily restocking the shoes Giles and Oz had strewn all over the store. He wasn't paying attention; they all breathed an inward sigh of relief.
"How do you guys know about it, then?" Oz asked. The three girls glanced at each other. "We're…not exactly normal," Gina began tentatively.
"To borrow a phrase, 'duh'," Giles said. "Y-you aren't…demons, are you?"
The three girls burst into laughter. "Do we look like demons?" Laura asked. "We're…witches. That's all."
Oz looked relieved. "Oh. Hey, Willow's a witch too; maybe you guys could get together, do magical things. Spells and stuff."
"Oh. Well, we're really busy. But otherwise…" Gina said.
"It was just an idea."
"It was a good idea," Lisa said to the dejected Oz.
"…Yeah."
"Right, back on the ranch," Laura said suddenly. "These three dead guys. Think maybe something big and bad got a hold of them?"
"No, fortunately, that something's left town," Giles mumbled. "It could be another sort of demon, though. I'll have to tell Buffy about these deaths--"
"Buffy? The blonde chick? What's she gonna do, run around in circles screaming?" Lisa snorted.
"She's the Slayer."
All three girls looked dumbfounded.
"…Well all right, maybe she won't run around in circles screaming."
"Yeah, that's pretty much the demon's job," Oz said, grinning a little at the shock on the three girls' faces.
"I've got an idea," Laura said. "We booked you two an appointment at the salon down the street in about twenty minutes. You two finish up here, go down there, tell Jacques we sent you, and we'll go tell Buffy about the three guys. No inconvenience that way."
Giles looked skeptical. "She might not believe you."
"Well, tell us something that'll make her believe us!"
Giles ran a hand through his hair, concentrating. "You're sure you want to get involved?" he asked the girls.
"Hell yeah! This is the most excitement we've seen in a week!" Lisa said.
"All right. Here, give Buffy this," he said, and handed Laura a ring from his index finger ("How very Three Musketeers," Lisa whispered to Gina), "and tell her about the deaths. Tell Willow and Xander to start researching, tell them to look for anything that can kill without leaving any visible marks."
"Can do, Sarge," Laura said and saluted.
"Be back in a bit," Lisa said, throwing a credit card at Henry and skipping out of the store. Gina brought up the rear, jumping around excitedly while shouting "Field trip! Field trip!"
Oz walked up and stood beside Giles. "…Think they're really witches?" he asked the older man.
"They're…something, all right," he said dazedly, cleaning his glasses on his shirt. "We'd better get to the salon."
"Yeah, I'm sure Jacques gets testy if you're late for an appointment."
***
"Shit, Gina, I told you to go easy on him!" a voice echoed slightly, bouncing off the dormant houses in one of Sunnydale's residential districts. "And now look what you've done."
"Well, he wasn't the only one dead, Lisa. Pot calling kettle black."
"Both of you shut up. We can handle this. Just need to stash Blondie and her groupies somewhere convenient and out-of-the-way. Can't have a Slayer around to mess things up," Laura said calmly as she avoided the cracks in the sidewalk leading up to the Summers' home. She twisted Giles' ring around her finger, watching as it caught the sunlight of the waning afternoon. She rang the doorbell.
An older woman answered the door. "Hello?" she asked hesitantly.
"Hi," Laura said, putting on her brightest responsible-studious-you-can-trust-me smile. "Is Buffy home?"
"Yes, she is…may I tell her who's here?"
Ooh, very smooth. Not inviting us in and finding identification--the woman's a pro. "Oh, sorry. This is Lisa, and Gina, and I'm Laura. We're acquaintances of Buffy's. Mister Giles sent us," she said, lowering her voice a bit. "There's a bit of trouble he wants her to be aware of."
Mrs. Summers nodded. "Oh. Well, I'll go get her then. Come inside, girls." She motioned for the three to sit on the sofa as she went downstairs.
A few minutes later, Buffy, Willow and Xander appeared in the room.
"Hey, girls. Miss me?" Xander asked, squeezing between Lisa and Gina on the sofa.
Lisa rolled her eyes. "Oh, you have no idea," she grumbled, shifting uneasily as Xander wrapped an arm around her and Gina's shoulders.
"What do you want?" Buffy asked testily. "We were in the middle of something important."
Willow gave Buffy a Look. "Since when is 'seeing if the coyote will finally get the roadrunner' important?"
"Since always," Buffy snapped, folding her arms as she glared at the three girls. Laura regarded her coolly.
"Thanks for the warm reception there, Princess. So sorry to disturb your television habits, but Giles has something he wants you to work on."
"So Giles sent you."
"Yes."
"He didn't come himself."
"He was detained."
"Right. What did you do to him?"
Laura smirked a little. "I'm afraid you're too young for the details." She grinned as she saw Buffy's poker face turn into a scowl. "Ooh, don't like that insinuation much, do ya? Don't want Laura as a 'Mummy' figure for your twisted little fantasy family?" she debated bringing up the ring on her hand, but decided Buffy would probably have a coronary.
Buffy took a step toward the redhead, but Laura held up her hand and Buffy halted.
"I'm afraid I don't have time for any adolescent power plays. Giles sent me, deal with it, he wants you to check out a few deaths."
"What sort of deaths?" Willow piped up. Gina turned to the girl.
"He wants you and Xander to research for things that can kill without leaving any visible marks," she said.
"But that's impossible!"
"Actually, no," Lisa said. "We know of a few who can manage that."
"You do? Well, tell us about them! What are they? Where are they?" Xander asked.
"Oh…all around you…" Gina said in a sing-song voice. Xander gave her a strange look.
"What?"
"Sorry about this, Xander. I'm afraid you're going to miss the show…" Lisa said.
"Huh? Why would I m--"
And suddenly everything was darkness.