Oz pumped the accelerator twice then turned the key. The van's engine turned over, caught, sputtered, then roared to life. The passenger door opened and Josie climbed in. She said, "In case I haven't said it enough, thanks again for all you've done."
"It's not a big deal. You're sleeping over the garage." Oz put the transmission in reverse and backed down the driveway.
Josie glanced out the passenger window. "So how do you and Willow handle the Christmas thing?"
"Excuse me?" Oz shot her a quick glance.
"Well, you know, Willow being Jewish and you having such a Christmas jones."
Oz shook his head as he turned the wheel to the right. "Still in the dark here."
"Come on." Josie turned toward him. "On the road you get pretty good at sizing people up real fast. I was in your house last night. Admit it, you love Christmas."
Oz shrugged defensively. "Well, yeah. It's pretty cool if you look at it for what it is."
"How so?"
Oz took one hand off the wheel to gesture. "Think about the story. Unmarried girl turns up pregnant and what's her explanation? 'I didn't do anything wrong; it's God's baby.' I mean, do you think anybody believed her?" Josie shrugged. Oz plowed on, warming to his topic. "Come on, you know they didn't. What they did was talk about her behind her back and call her a whore. You know they did."
Josie looked a little concerned for Oz's sanity. "Interesting take. You've thought about this."
He wasn't finished. "Then they go to this other town where she has the baby in a barn, then they have to leave the country because the government decides to kill all the babies to get this one. I just think that's one wild story."
"Do you think it's true?"
He shrugged, his eyes on the street. "Who knows? Weirder stuff is true."
"Such as?"
Oz realized that he was on the verge of saying too much. This was probably not the moment to reveal his lupine nature. "You know. That plant that blooms every hundred years. Pizza with cheese in the crust. The Backstreet Boys. You know. Stuff."
Josie said, "Stuff. Yeah, that stuff can get you. Still, you're right. It's like on that old game show, you know, Hollywood Squares? They'd ask a question like 'What percentage of Americans are afraid someone has spit in their Coke' and then you could choose, like, thirteen percent, twenty-one percent, or sixty-eight percent. You never went wrong choosing the weirdest number."
"Yeah," was all Oz said.
"And then you start thinking 'Well, has anyone spit in my Coke?' and pretty soon you're really paranoid, all because of some dumb game show."
"Sort of a vicious circle."
Josie nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. It's like, one weird thing is true and then another weird thing is true and pretty soon you're wondering if maybe it's all true, you know?"
"I know." Oz fought the urge to shake his head. It felt like it needed clearing.
"Makes you wonder what kind of strangeness hides behind every normal façade, doesn't it?" Josie's words sounded more like a statement than a question.
Oz had never been so glad to see Sunnydale High looming before them.
***
"Please, please tell me you have some good news." Mr. Trick's voice was extremely calm. Delilah knew that was always a danger sign. She double-checked her notes.
"I think I do," she said. "We heard from Baghdad this morning."
"And?"
"Confirmed."
Trick turned to face her. "You're being very coy with me, Delilah. Now is not a good time for that. What are we looking for?"
She smiled in spite of herself. "Candlesticks."
He stared at her, then a grin spread over his face. "Of course. And it's confirmed?"
"Yes. Definitely an extra set of candlesticks." Her smile diminished in candlepower but did not disappear. "One of our contractors was going over a Babylonian inventory for about the thousandth time and he noticed an extra set of candlesticks on the list."
"That's it?"
"He did a little digging, found several accounts of strange goings-on surrounding this particular set, so he's trying to get a line on what happened to them."
Trick shook his head like a Rottweiler coming in out of the rain. "That is good news." His demeanor darkened. "Now if we could just get some work done around here. Man, do I hate Christmas. Doesn't even snow around here."
***
"So, anybody up for the Big Bronze Christmas Bash tonight?" Xander asked as he shouldered between Buffy and Cordelia.
Buffy thought, then shook her head. "Think I'll give it a skip. But if you go, be careful. It's not the most wonderful time of the year, if you get me."
"Suit yourself, but it's your loss little lady." Xander turned. "Cordy?"
Cordelia made a face of intense mock pain. "Ooooh sorry. I have pageant practice."
"Man," Xander whined.
"Maybe you could go with Oz," Buffy suggested.
Xander shook his head. "No. I've been going too many places with Oz lately. I suspect that people are starting to talk."
"About you? I seriously doubt it." Cordelia turned down another hallway.
"Hey!" Xander followed her. Buffy grinned and turned the other way.
And ran smack into Josie. They each took a quick step back, hasty apologies flying. When the apologies were finished, all that was left was awkward silence.
"So," Buffy finally said. "How are you getting along?"
Josie shrugged and made a face. "You know how it is."
"Yeah," Buffy said. "I do."
"Listen, I may be out of line here, but did I do something wrong?"
Buffy frowned. "No. Why?"
"Oh, it's just that whenever I'm around you I get this real strong vibe that you'd like me to be somewhere else."
Buffy ducked her head. "Sorry. It's not you. Well, it's not anything you did."
Josie squinted in puzzlement. "Could you either explain that or get me a copy of Cryptic for Dummies?"
"I just... You hit a little close to home, that's all."
"How?"
Buffy looked around, wondering why the hallway suddenly seemed so empty and how she'd gotten into this conversation. "I... Last summer I ran away. Not exactly a cherished memory."
"Wasn't fun, was it?" Josie looked sympathetic.
"No, it wasn't." Buffy hugged her books to her.
Josie tried for encouragement. "But you came back."
"Yeah," Buffy said. "But it's not like it's the Rose Parade now."
"It never is. The Rose Parade's made for TV." Josie turned and Buffy fell into step as they walked down the hall. "Is that why you're bagging the Christmas party tonight?"
"What? No." Buffy shook her head. "I just... I don't like Christmas. It gives me the wig."
"How so?"
"It's a con. All Christmas is really about is shopping and spending money." The Slayer held out a hand, palm up. "'Peace on earth, good will toward men'? How about 'No payments 'til February'?"
"So it's the commercialization that bugs you?"
Buffy shrugged. "That sounds too much like A Charlie Brown Christmas. I'm down with presents; I'll take as many as I can get. I just think it's hypocritical to wrap it in something bigger, to try and ennoble shopping with all this other stuff." She had to smile. "Let me be free and honest in my desire to amass goodies."
Josie's long hair bounced in time to her steps as she looked at the Slayer. "You're not that shallow."
"Who says?" Buffy demanded in a tone of mock outrage.
"Oh, I'd say Xander... Willow... Oz... Cordelia... your mom... You've got a lot of people who think the world of you." She fell silent and arched her eyebrows, inviting comment.
"Not everyone feels that way," Buffy said.
"Everyone can't," Josie said. "Besides, it won't happen."
"What?" Buffy said.
"You won't end up alone. Like me." Josie stopped and turned to face the Slayer. "That's what you're scared of, isn't it?"
Buffy's lips tightened. "Since we're being all honest and everything, why are you here? Sixteen, no family, what brought you to Sunnydale?"
Josie looked perplexed. "What makes you think anything 'brought' me here?"
Buffy's voice was cold. "I also don't believe in things happening by accident."
Josie looked as though she was about to make a sharp reply, but instead said, "Okay, here's how it goes. I do have some knowledge of my family. Some of my roots are in this area. I thought returning to the old ancestral home might give some ideas, some sense of direction."
"Has it?"
Josie shook her head. "Sadly, no." She lifted her hand in a little wave. "Sorry if I pried. I gotta go."
Buffy watched the girl disappear into the mass of students, then shook her head and headed toward her own class.
***
"Busy?" Buffy leaned over Willow's shoulder, peering into her friend's locker.
"Not exceptionally," Willow said. "Why?"
"Thought I'd drop by Giles' place before I go home. I want to talk to him about Josie. You want to come with?"
Willow nodded energetically. "Me in." The afternoon was warm as they strolled along the sidewalk. "What are you going to ask Giles about?" Willow asked.
"Patrolling's been crazy. Every hellbeast that can find its way out of a crypt is on the prowl. I want to know if Josie has anything to do with it."
Willow stopped and grabbed the Slayer by the arm. "Do you think she does?"
Buffy crossed her arms. "I think she showed up just around the time this all started. Plus she gives off that whole mysterious knowing vibe. I hate that."
"But what about Oz?" Willow's eyes grew big and round. "If she's evil--"
"Will, I promise you that if Josie's evil and she even thinks about hurting Oz, I will kick her ass. Okay?"
Willow relaxed and smiled. "Okay." She took a couple of steps and stopped again. "Hey, why are we going to Giles' house? Why didn't we just stop by the library?"
Buffy shrugged. "He was gone. Left the minute school was out."
"Hey," Willow said. "Did you see Xander's new snow globe? This one's really cheesy." They traded views on Xander's penchant for collecting holiday kitsch until they reached Giles' apartment.
They had to knock twice before the door opened. Giles peered around the corner at them.
"Uh, hello," Buffy said. "Is anything wrong?"
"What? No, no. What could possibly be wrong?" If a voice could be fidgety, Giles's was.
"So, could we come in?" Buffy asked.
Giles dithered for a moment, then caved. "All right. Come in." The door swung open. Buffy entered, with Willow close behind. Giles closed the door.
Buffy's eyes widened. "Giles," she asked, "why are you wearing that?"
Giles looked from Buffy to Willow and back again. "I do not," he said, "have to explain what I choose to wear in my home."
"Yeah, but that?" Buffy waved a hand.
Giles drew himself up. "This is an historically accurate reproduction of a nineteenth century dressing gown."
"Yeah, well, it makes you look like an historically accurate reproduction of a nineteenth century doofus." Buffy was very amused.
Willow raised her hand. "Um, can I just ask why?"
"It's part of my costume."
"Costume?" Buffy and Willow spoke in puzzled unison.
Giles reached into the pocket of the scarlet silk robe and pulled out a small book. "For my performance of Dickens' A Christmas Carol." Blank looks met this announcement. "On Christmas Eve," he elaborated. "At the Vandivort?"
"Oh." Willow jumped as though she'd just discovered a snake in her pocket. "The community theater downtown."
"Yes." Giles returned the book to his pocket. "I'll be doing a one-man reading. Patrick Stewart's been doing one for years."
"So, you'll be shaving your head?" Buffy was the soul of innocent curiosity.
Giles pursed his lips and gazed up at the ceiling. "I do hope that these assaults on my dignity were not your sole reason for calling."
"No," Buffy admitted. "This was just a pleasant surprise."
"I'm glad I was available for your sport," Giles retorted. "Now, what do you really want?"
***
Faith ground the heels of her hands against her eyes to try and fight off sleep. The sun was drifting down toward the horizon and its orange glare splashed directly on her face. Not even the trees around her blocked it. The CRT complex spread out below her. She raised the binoculars to her eyes and scanned it again.
She'd pretty much bagged school. She spent her days doing recon here and her nights slaughtering every supernatural creature that crossed her path. Then she hit the Bronze or a private party until close to dawn. Sometimes she found someone willing to take her home. Waking in a stranger's bed was no Meg Ryan moment, but she would do anything to stave off that inevitable moment when she returned to the ValleyView, anything to insure that when she did go there she would collapse into unconsciousness the minute her head touched the pillow. The twenty-hour days were taking a toll.
But she would stick it out, stick it out until she found a way to get inside and put a stake through the heart of that murderous bastard Mr. Trick. She dreamed about that moment, that pluperfect instant just before she leaned on the stake and sent him back to Hell.
The sun slid below the hills and she saw two parties leave the complex. Six vampires in each group, probably going to get food for the others. Faith put her binoculars in the case and picked up the stakes that lay beside her. She tucked them into her pants at the small of her back. Trick and his buddies had best be prepared for short rations.
***
"So, you've met a stranger, Xander claims Trick was stalking her, and from this you've extrapolated some grave danger?" Giles's voice held no little disbelief.
"Other than that crack about the straps, yeah, pretty much," Buffy replied. "Something's not right about this girl."
"And you believe this based on your 'spider sense'." Giles inclined his head toward Buffy.
Buffy ignored his skepticism. "She makes it dance wacky. Her vibe is definitely supernatural."
"Really?" Giles packed a heavy meaning-per-pound ratio into that one word.
"Oh, yeah." Buffy took a deep breath. "This is going to sound so weird, but when she left the coffee shop, just for a minute, I thought she... glowed."
There was a moment of silence, then Giles said, "That does sound strange."
"Glowed?" Willow's eyebrows threatened to disappear into her widow's peak. "You mean, like a light bulb?"
Buffy considered this for a moment, then shook her head. "No, it was more like one of those glow sticks you get at a concert."
"Oh." Willow's hands jumped around, the way they always did when she was excited. "So she was fluorescent instead of incandescent."
"I guess," Buffy mumbled.
"If that's true, then there should be something written about it." Giles ignored their deconstruction of Josie's supposed luminescence. "Willow, keep your eyes open. Observe her behavior. Take note of anything that seems in any way ritual. I'll do some research, see if I can find anything on glowing girls." He got to his feet.
"And me?" Buffy asked as she and Willow headed for the door.
"You should continue to patrol. The crowds at this time of year can be an irresistible treat for the undead."
Buffy pouted. "I always have to be the responsible one."
"Yes, well, it's your burden to bear in life." Giles started to step outside, remembered his costume, and remained inside the threshold.
"Have fun rehearsing," Willow said. Giles bowed and closed the door.
***
"Here, let me get that." Josie took the trash bag from Oz. "I'll earn my keep."
"You should stop this," Oz replied. "My parents are thinking of adopting you." Josie smiled at him and went out the back door into the night. The plastic trash can, a thirty-gallon job, stood against the back fence. She sensed movement in the shadows as she dropped the bag inside. One of the shadows was a little darker, a little more solid than the others.
"I know you're there," she said. The shadow hissed at her. "Come out where I can see you," she demanded.
Angel stepped into the light. Josie frowned.
"Angelus," she said. "I'm surprised to see you."
"I don't go by that name any more," Angel said through gritted teeth.
Josie smacked herself on the forehead. "That's right. I'm sorry, really I am. I shouldn't have called you that."
"Why are you here?" Angel asked. "Is it time?"
"Oh," she said, "now you know who I am?"
"I know. Now that I've seen you, I know." Angel was doing his best to keep from cringing.
"Well, I guess that's to be expected." Josie moved her shoulders up and down. "For what it's worth, it's not time. At least, not as far as I know." Angel nodded slowly, starting to fade back into the shadow. "Hey," Josie said, "your... whatever Buffy is to you, I think she could use some help tonight. At some place called the Bronze."
A complex array of emotions played across Angel's face, then he turned and sprinted away. Josie watched him go, then turned her face to the sky. "What's that?" she said. "Oh, you're very welcome." She turned and began walking toward the street. "Is a lousy 'thank you' so hard?" she groused.
"It's not a big deal. You're sleeping over the garage." Oz put the transmission in reverse and backed down the driveway.
Josie glanced out the passenger window. "So how do you and Willow handle the Christmas thing?"
"Excuse me?" Oz shot her a quick glance.
"Well, you know, Willow being Jewish and you having such a Christmas jones."
Oz shook his head as he turned the wheel to the right. "Still in the dark here."
"Come on." Josie turned toward him. "On the road you get pretty good at sizing people up real fast. I was in your house last night. Admit it, you love Christmas."
Oz shrugged defensively. "Well, yeah. It's pretty cool if you look at it for what it is."
"How so?"
Oz took one hand off the wheel to gesture. "Think about the story. Unmarried girl turns up pregnant and what's her explanation? 'I didn't do anything wrong; it's God's baby.' I mean, do you think anybody believed her?" Josie shrugged. Oz plowed on, warming to his topic. "Come on, you know they didn't. What they did was talk about her behind her back and call her a whore. You know they did."
Josie looked a little concerned for Oz's sanity. "Interesting take. You've thought about this."
He wasn't finished. "Then they go to this other town where she has the baby in a barn, then they have to leave the country because the government decides to kill all the babies to get this one. I just think that's one wild story."
"Do you think it's true?"
He shrugged, his eyes on the street. "Who knows? Weirder stuff is true."
"Such as?"
Oz realized that he was on the verge of saying too much. This was probably not the moment to reveal his lupine nature. "You know. That plant that blooms every hundred years. Pizza with cheese in the crust. The Backstreet Boys. You know. Stuff."
Josie said, "Stuff. Yeah, that stuff can get you. Still, you're right. It's like on that old game show, you know, Hollywood Squares? They'd ask a question like 'What percentage of Americans are afraid someone has spit in their Coke' and then you could choose, like, thirteen percent, twenty-one percent, or sixty-eight percent. You never went wrong choosing the weirdest number."
"Yeah," was all Oz said.
"And then you start thinking 'Well, has anyone spit in my Coke?' and pretty soon you're really paranoid, all because of some dumb game show."
"Sort of a vicious circle."
Josie nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. It's like, one weird thing is true and then another weird thing is true and pretty soon you're wondering if maybe it's all true, you know?"
"I know." Oz fought the urge to shake his head. It felt like it needed clearing.
"Makes you wonder what kind of strangeness hides behind every normal façade, doesn't it?" Josie's words sounded more like a statement than a question.
Oz had never been so glad to see Sunnydale High looming before them.
***
"Please, please tell me you have some good news." Mr. Trick's voice was extremely calm. Delilah knew that was always a danger sign. She double-checked her notes.
"I think I do," she said. "We heard from Baghdad this morning."
"And?"
"Confirmed."
Trick turned to face her. "You're being very coy with me, Delilah. Now is not a good time for that. What are we looking for?"
She smiled in spite of herself. "Candlesticks."
He stared at her, then a grin spread over his face. "Of course. And it's confirmed?"
"Yes. Definitely an extra set of candlesticks." Her smile diminished in candlepower but did not disappear. "One of our contractors was going over a Babylonian inventory for about the thousandth time and he noticed an extra set of candlesticks on the list."
"That's it?"
"He did a little digging, found several accounts of strange goings-on surrounding this particular set, so he's trying to get a line on what happened to them."
Trick shook his head like a Rottweiler coming in out of the rain. "That is good news." His demeanor darkened. "Now if we could just get some work done around here. Man, do I hate Christmas. Doesn't even snow around here."
***
"So, anybody up for the Big Bronze Christmas Bash tonight?" Xander asked as he shouldered between Buffy and Cordelia.
Buffy thought, then shook her head. "Think I'll give it a skip. But if you go, be careful. It's not the most wonderful time of the year, if you get me."
"Suit yourself, but it's your loss little lady." Xander turned. "Cordy?"
Cordelia made a face of intense mock pain. "Ooooh sorry. I have pageant practice."
"Man," Xander whined.
"Maybe you could go with Oz," Buffy suggested.
Xander shook his head. "No. I've been going too many places with Oz lately. I suspect that people are starting to talk."
"About you? I seriously doubt it." Cordelia turned down another hallway.
"Hey!" Xander followed her. Buffy grinned and turned the other way.
And ran smack into Josie. They each took a quick step back, hasty apologies flying. When the apologies were finished, all that was left was awkward silence.
"So," Buffy finally said. "How are you getting along?"
Josie shrugged and made a face. "You know how it is."
"Yeah," Buffy said. "I do."
"Listen, I may be out of line here, but did I do something wrong?"
Buffy frowned. "No. Why?"
"Oh, it's just that whenever I'm around you I get this real strong vibe that you'd like me to be somewhere else."
Buffy ducked her head. "Sorry. It's not you. Well, it's not anything you did."
Josie squinted in puzzlement. "Could you either explain that or get me a copy of Cryptic for Dummies?"
"I just... You hit a little close to home, that's all."
"How?"
Buffy looked around, wondering why the hallway suddenly seemed so empty and how she'd gotten into this conversation. "I... Last summer I ran away. Not exactly a cherished memory."
"Wasn't fun, was it?" Josie looked sympathetic.
"No, it wasn't." Buffy hugged her books to her.
Josie tried for encouragement. "But you came back."
"Yeah," Buffy said. "But it's not like it's the Rose Parade now."
"It never is. The Rose Parade's made for TV." Josie turned and Buffy fell into step as they walked down the hall. "Is that why you're bagging the Christmas party tonight?"
"What? No." Buffy shook her head. "I just... I don't like Christmas. It gives me the wig."
"How so?"
"It's a con. All Christmas is really about is shopping and spending money." The Slayer held out a hand, palm up. "'Peace on earth, good will toward men'? How about 'No payments 'til February'?"
"So it's the commercialization that bugs you?"
Buffy shrugged. "That sounds too much like A Charlie Brown Christmas. I'm down with presents; I'll take as many as I can get. I just think it's hypocritical to wrap it in something bigger, to try and ennoble shopping with all this other stuff." She had to smile. "Let me be free and honest in my desire to amass goodies."
Josie's long hair bounced in time to her steps as she looked at the Slayer. "You're not that shallow."
"Who says?" Buffy demanded in a tone of mock outrage.
"Oh, I'd say Xander... Willow... Oz... Cordelia... your mom... You've got a lot of people who think the world of you." She fell silent and arched her eyebrows, inviting comment.
"Not everyone feels that way," Buffy said.
"Everyone can't," Josie said. "Besides, it won't happen."
"What?" Buffy said.
"You won't end up alone. Like me." Josie stopped and turned to face the Slayer. "That's what you're scared of, isn't it?"
Buffy's lips tightened. "Since we're being all honest and everything, why are you here? Sixteen, no family, what brought you to Sunnydale?"
Josie looked perplexed. "What makes you think anything 'brought' me here?"
Buffy's voice was cold. "I also don't believe in things happening by accident."
Josie looked as though she was about to make a sharp reply, but instead said, "Okay, here's how it goes. I do have some knowledge of my family. Some of my roots are in this area. I thought returning to the old ancestral home might give some ideas, some sense of direction."
"Has it?"
Josie shook her head. "Sadly, no." She lifted her hand in a little wave. "Sorry if I pried. I gotta go."
Buffy watched the girl disappear into the mass of students, then shook her head and headed toward her own class.
***
"Busy?" Buffy leaned over Willow's shoulder, peering into her friend's locker.
"Not exceptionally," Willow said. "Why?"
"Thought I'd drop by Giles' place before I go home. I want to talk to him about Josie. You want to come with?"
Willow nodded energetically. "Me in." The afternoon was warm as they strolled along the sidewalk. "What are you going to ask Giles about?" Willow asked.
"Patrolling's been crazy. Every hellbeast that can find its way out of a crypt is on the prowl. I want to know if Josie has anything to do with it."
Willow stopped and grabbed the Slayer by the arm. "Do you think she does?"
Buffy crossed her arms. "I think she showed up just around the time this all started. Plus she gives off that whole mysterious knowing vibe. I hate that."
"But what about Oz?" Willow's eyes grew big and round. "If she's evil--"
"Will, I promise you that if Josie's evil and she even thinks about hurting Oz, I will kick her ass. Okay?"
Willow relaxed and smiled. "Okay." She took a couple of steps and stopped again. "Hey, why are we going to Giles' house? Why didn't we just stop by the library?"
Buffy shrugged. "He was gone. Left the minute school was out."
"Hey," Willow said. "Did you see Xander's new snow globe? This one's really cheesy." They traded views on Xander's penchant for collecting holiday kitsch until they reached Giles' apartment.
They had to knock twice before the door opened. Giles peered around the corner at them.
"Uh, hello," Buffy said. "Is anything wrong?"
"What? No, no. What could possibly be wrong?" If a voice could be fidgety, Giles's was.
"So, could we come in?" Buffy asked.
Giles dithered for a moment, then caved. "All right. Come in." The door swung open. Buffy entered, with Willow close behind. Giles closed the door.
Buffy's eyes widened. "Giles," she asked, "why are you wearing that?"
Giles looked from Buffy to Willow and back again. "I do not," he said, "have to explain what I choose to wear in my home."
"Yeah, but that?" Buffy waved a hand.
Giles drew himself up. "This is an historically accurate reproduction of a nineteenth century dressing gown."
"Yeah, well, it makes you look like an historically accurate reproduction of a nineteenth century doofus." Buffy was very amused.
Willow raised her hand. "Um, can I just ask why?"
"It's part of my costume."
"Costume?" Buffy and Willow spoke in puzzled unison.
Giles reached into the pocket of the scarlet silk robe and pulled out a small book. "For my performance of Dickens' A Christmas Carol." Blank looks met this announcement. "On Christmas Eve," he elaborated. "At the Vandivort?"
"Oh." Willow jumped as though she'd just discovered a snake in her pocket. "The community theater downtown."
"Yes." Giles returned the book to his pocket. "I'll be doing a one-man reading. Patrick Stewart's been doing one for years."
"So, you'll be shaving your head?" Buffy was the soul of innocent curiosity.
Giles pursed his lips and gazed up at the ceiling. "I do hope that these assaults on my dignity were not your sole reason for calling."
"No," Buffy admitted. "This was just a pleasant surprise."
"I'm glad I was available for your sport," Giles retorted. "Now, what do you really want?"
***
Faith ground the heels of her hands against her eyes to try and fight off sleep. The sun was drifting down toward the horizon and its orange glare splashed directly on her face. Not even the trees around her blocked it. The CRT complex spread out below her. She raised the binoculars to her eyes and scanned it again.
She'd pretty much bagged school. She spent her days doing recon here and her nights slaughtering every supernatural creature that crossed her path. Then she hit the Bronze or a private party until close to dawn. Sometimes she found someone willing to take her home. Waking in a stranger's bed was no Meg Ryan moment, but she would do anything to stave off that inevitable moment when she returned to the ValleyView, anything to insure that when she did go there she would collapse into unconsciousness the minute her head touched the pillow. The twenty-hour days were taking a toll.
But she would stick it out, stick it out until she found a way to get inside and put a stake through the heart of that murderous bastard Mr. Trick. She dreamed about that moment, that pluperfect instant just before she leaned on the stake and sent him back to Hell.
The sun slid below the hills and she saw two parties leave the complex. Six vampires in each group, probably going to get food for the others. Faith put her binoculars in the case and picked up the stakes that lay beside her. She tucked them into her pants at the small of her back. Trick and his buddies had best be prepared for short rations.
***
"So, you've met a stranger, Xander claims Trick was stalking her, and from this you've extrapolated some grave danger?" Giles's voice held no little disbelief.
"Other than that crack about the straps, yeah, pretty much," Buffy replied. "Something's not right about this girl."
"And you believe this based on your 'spider sense'." Giles inclined his head toward Buffy.
Buffy ignored his skepticism. "She makes it dance wacky. Her vibe is definitely supernatural."
"Really?" Giles packed a heavy meaning-per-pound ratio into that one word.
"Oh, yeah." Buffy took a deep breath. "This is going to sound so weird, but when she left the coffee shop, just for a minute, I thought she... glowed."
There was a moment of silence, then Giles said, "That does sound strange."
"Glowed?" Willow's eyebrows threatened to disappear into her widow's peak. "You mean, like a light bulb?"
Buffy considered this for a moment, then shook her head. "No, it was more like one of those glow sticks you get at a concert."
"Oh." Willow's hands jumped around, the way they always did when she was excited. "So she was fluorescent instead of incandescent."
"I guess," Buffy mumbled.
"If that's true, then there should be something written about it." Giles ignored their deconstruction of Josie's supposed luminescence. "Willow, keep your eyes open. Observe her behavior. Take note of anything that seems in any way ritual. I'll do some research, see if I can find anything on glowing girls." He got to his feet.
"And me?" Buffy asked as she and Willow headed for the door.
"You should continue to patrol. The crowds at this time of year can be an irresistible treat for the undead."
Buffy pouted. "I always have to be the responsible one."
"Yes, well, it's your burden to bear in life." Giles started to step outside, remembered his costume, and remained inside the threshold.
"Have fun rehearsing," Willow said. Giles bowed and closed the door.
***
"Here, let me get that." Josie took the trash bag from Oz. "I'll earn my keep."
"You should stop this," Oz replied. "My parents are thinking of adopting you." Josie smiled at him and went out the back door into the night. The plastic trash can, a thirty-gallon job, stood against the back fence. She sensed movement in the shadows as she dropped the bag inside. One of the shadows was a little darker, a little more solid than the others.
"I know you're there," she said. The shadow hissed at her. "Come out where I can see you," she demanded.
Angel stepped into the light. Josie frowned.
"Angelus," she said. "I'm surprised to see you."
"I don't go by that name any more," Angel said through gritted teeth.
Josie smacked herself on the forehead. "That's right. I'm sorry, really I am. I shouldn't have called you that."
"Why are you here?" Angel asked. "Is it time?"
"Oh," she said, "now you know who I am?"
"I know. Now that I've seen you, I know." Angel was doing his best to keep from cringing.
"Well, I guess that's to be expected." Josie moved her shoulders up and down. "For what it's worth, it's not time. At least, not as far as I know." Angel nodded slowly, starting to fade back into the shadow. "Hey," Josie said, "your... whatever Buffy is to you, I think she could use some help tonight. At some place called the Bronze."
A complex array of emotions played across Angel's face, then he turned and sprinted away. Josie watched him go, then turned her face to the sky. "What's that?" she said. "Oh, you're very welcome." She turned and began walking toward the street. "Is a lousy 'thank you' so hard?" she groused.