Buffy bit her lower lip. "No. I don't. Not again."
Giles coughed softly. "Um, I need to begin pulling the volumes..."
"Yeah." Angel turned, his coat swirling behind him. "I'll keep in touch."
"Angel, wait." Buffy took a step toward him, her hand raised. He turned back, one foot on the bottom step. "B-Be careful," she said. He cocked his head and then turned and went up the stairs. He looked down from the landing.
"You be careful too," he said, and he was gone.
Buffy turned to her Watcher, her eyes glistening. "Well, I, uh, I guess I better get on the patrolling thing."
"Yes," Giles said, nodding. "That's probably best... Buffy," he said as she reached the door. She looked over her shoulder. He cleared his throat. "Are you... Is there anything you need from me?"
The Slayer brushed her hair back from her forehead. "If I knew what I needed, you'd be the first person I'd ask."
***
Mr. Trick looked at the monitor as he stroked his cheek with a worried forefinger. Delilah looked at Mr. Quisling, who shrugged and raised his eyebrows.
"Sir," Delilah said, "is something wrong?"
Trick's head shook almost imperceptibly. "Damn Watchers."
"Sir?" Delilah sounded confused.
Trick's attention swung from the monitor to his aide de camp. "I hate it when people can't keep their shit together. Damn organization's coming apart at the seams, fools killing each other, all sorts of purges..."
"Isn't that to our advantage?" Mr. Quisling asked.
"No, it's not." Trick glowered at his protégé. "It's another destabilizing element. I like my enemies to be content and predictable." He turned to Delilah. "What about that curse thing?"
She consulted her Palm Pilot. "Well, we're sure that it's a ritual for dissolving the Seal, however, there are numerous codices and conditions that are proving difficult to translate."
"Make sure they get it right," Trick purred. "Last thing we need's a slipshod ritual translation."
***
The varnished floor of the Sunnydale High gym was a deep caramel sky reflecting hundreds of halogen stars and the players from Sunnydale and Brookhaven described their orbits through the hardwood solar system with celestial precision. Percy West circled around a screen and took a pass from Mike Haven. Percy's legs were already gathered beneath him as he caught the ball. He rose into the air and sent a perfectly arched jumper through the twine, the ball dropping out of the sky like a shooting star with backspin.
Willow clapped her hands twice as the net twisted around the rim and the crowd exploded, the noise rocketing around the gym. The SHS Razorbacks might not be having a great basketball season, but they had brought their 'A' game tonight. Midway through the second quarter Brookhaven, a contender for the state playoffs, only led by 31-28. The disgusted Brookhaven coach signaled for a timeout and lit into his players even before they were off the floor.
The Sunnydale cheerleaders raced onto the floor and assumed formation. They paused for a beat, knees bent, then Cordelia barked "Okay!" As one their arms shot out perpendicular to their bodies, the right straight, the left bent at the elbow back toward the body.
"Pretty good, aren't they?" Oz said.
"Yeah." The corner of Willow's mouth quirked. "Cordelia makes sure of that."
"She is curiously intense about it." Oz sat silently for a moment. "It's kind of like the eight hundred pound gorilla, isn't it?"
"What? Oh, yeah." Willow's attention was jerked away from the players returning to the court. "But I don't see... I mean, what can we do?" She kept her voice low.
Oz shrugged. "Not much, I guess. Seems odd, though."
Willow's lips tightened. "We'll deal with it when it's time. There's nothing we can do now, so I choose to just let it go."
"Kind of blasé, even by our standards."
Willow glanced around. The crowd ignored them, its attention focused on the game. "We're underdogs, but underdogs can win. David beat Goliath."
"Yeah." Oz exhaled. "But he only fought him once. How many times can we come out on top?"
Marcus Jones grabbed the rebound of a Brookhaven miss and made the outlet pass to Percy West. Percy took two dribbles and zipped the ball to Kyle Broughton on the wing. He drove baseline and drew two defenders to him, then dished the ball between them to Percy sprinting down the lane. Percy took one long stride and jumped. The ref blew his whistle as Percy dunked the ball over the defender who had belatedly spun away from Kyle. The gym was in pandemonium as the referee indicated that Percy's dunk was good and he would receive one free throw.
"How many times?" Willow asked, her hands clapping wildly. "As many times as we need to, I guess."
***
"Hey, look at that." Faith nudged Xander in the ribs and pointed through the screen of trees. He saw a black car, he thought it was a Mercury Marquis, drive slowly through the gate and accelerate away from CTI.
"Should we follow it?" he whispered.
Faith looked at him, laughter flickering in her eyes. "Only if you got a set of wheels stashed somewhere." She turned back to her vigil. "Nah. Let 'em go." Xander's face burned and he was glad they were in the dark.
"So," Faith whispered, "what this Seal shit?"
Xander shrugged before he realized it was a useless gesture in the blackness. "Another special production courtesy of the Hellmouth, I guess. You get used to it after a while. You know, like people in San Francisco get used to the fog."
"Or the way you get used to the rats in Boston," Faith said.
"Boston has rats?" Xander turned his head toward her.
Faith laughed bitterly. "Until I was five I thought I had a really twitchy puppy. Boston has more rats than people."
"Brrrr." Xander shuddered. "I think I'd rather deal with the Hellmouth."
"You get used to it. Hey, there go a couple of likely suspects. Let's have some fun." She rose up and slipped away in the dark.
"Hey," Xander hissed. "We're supposed to do surveillance. Surveillance doesn't involve fighting and killing. Oh, crap," he said, pushing himself upright to follow her. "Wait a minute."
***
Giles stared at the pitifully small stack of books sitting on the counter. He knew that he couldn't be fluent in every subject under the sun, but he still felt a vague depression over his astounding lack of knowledge or even information about the Seal of Solomon. He had to admit that even his texts didn't tell him much more than the facts Willow had shared. Or maybe he was in a funk because it seemed that almost everything he thought he knew seemed to be turning on its head.
The two streams of thought converged and he reached for the phone. He dialed from memory and listened to the burring ring on the other end of the line. No one answered. Giles furrowed his brow. The receiver clicked in his ear and a voice said, "Who is this?"
Giles held the phone at arm's length and stared at it. The voice sounded tinny as it repeated, "Who is this?" The raspy sound of breathing shook him from his trance and he slammed the phone into its cradle. He stared at it for a second as though it might turn into a viper and launch itself at him, fangs bared. He pressed his hands against the counter to quell their trembling. When the shaking subsided he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, then straightened his glasses and hurried out of the library.
***
Cordelia sprinted off the floor and took her place at the end of the line of cheerleaders. The gym was awash in the white noise of an agitated throng. Brookhaven had already broken their huddle and the five players milled around the lane. The ref went to the Sunnydale bench to remind them that the time-out was over. The other official stood at in front of the scorers' table, ball cradled on his hip. Mike Haven stood beside him. Cordelia wasn't a strong student of basketball strategy, but everyone in the gym with a functioning brain cell knew the ball was going to Percy West. With seven seconds left the score was 69-66 in favor of Brookhaven and Percy had scored twenty-six of Sunnydale's points. The ref blew his whistle and handed the ball to Mike. The cheerleaders took a knee, pom-poms on the floor. Players began scrambling and Coach Ibsen started screaming something about one box. Percy tried to shake free but his man stuck to him like styrofoam packing peanuts. Mike grimaced and passed to Marcus Jones. Marcus took one dribble and passed to Percy, who caught the ball with a hand in his face. He up-faked, then power dribbled around his man into the lane. He stopped and pump-faked. The Brookhaven center shot into the air, buying the fake big-time. Percy left his feet a split-second later, leaning into his opponent to draw contact while launching an off-balance jump shot. The ball spun through the air, kissed the glass and dropped through the rim, but there was no whistle, no foul, and the Sunnydale crowd lapsed into stunned silence as the horn sounded and the scoreboard read Sunnydale 68, Opponent 69. Cordelia spun away from the court, a disgusted look on her face.
"That so sucks," Ashley Burton whined.
"Tell me about it," Cordelia grumbled as she snatched her gym bag from underneath the bleachers.
"Hey, the guys played really good," Andrea Pierce said.
"So what?" Cordelia said. "That's just another way of saying 'Nice try, losers'." She jammed her poms into the bag. As she pulled the zipper closed she looked up and saw Giles talking to Ms. Hollis. It looked like a pretty deep conversation. Cordelia made a face and turned away. Did the whole fighting the undead thing have to seep into every part of her life?
"So?" Ashley said impatiently, hands on hips.
"What?" Cordelia asked, annoyed.
"Are you going to the Bronze?" Ashley said.
Cordelia glanced over her shoulder. Ms. Hollis was still talking to the librarian. Cordelia shook her head like a fighter after a standing eight count and looked at Ashley. "Yeah," she said. "After I shower and change."
Giles coughed softly. "Um, I need to begin pulling the volumes..."
"Yeah." Angel turned, his coat swirling behind him. "I'll keep in touch."
"Angel, wait." Buffy took a step toward him, her hand raised. He turned back, one foot on the bottom step. "B-Be careful," she said. He cocked his head and then turned and went up the stairs. He looked down from the landing.
"You be careful too," he said, and he was gone.
Buffy turned to her Watcher, her eyes glistening. "Well, I, uh, I guess I better get on the patrolling thing."
"Yes," Giles said, nodding. "That's probably best... Buffy," he said as she reached the door. She looked over her shoulder. He cleared his throat. "Are you... Is there anything you need from me?"
The Slayer brushed her hair back from her forehead. "If I knew what I needed, you'd be the first person I'd ask."
***
Mr. Trick looked at the monitor as he stroked his cheek with a worried forefinger. Delilah looked at Mr. Quisling, who shrugged and raised his eyebrows.
"Sir," Delilah said, "is something wrong?"
Trick's head shook almost imperceptibly. "Damn Watchers."
"Sir?" Delilah sounded confused.
Trick's attention swung from the monitor to his aide de camp. "I hate it when people can't keep their shit together. Damn organization's coming apart at the seams, fools killing each other, all sorts of purges..."
"Isn't that to our advantage?" Mr. Quisling asked.
"No, it's not." Trick glowered at his protégé. "It's another destabilizing element. I like my enemies to be content and predictable." He turned to Delilah. "What about that curse thing?"
She consulted her Palm Pilot. "Well, we're sure that it's a ritual for dissolving the Seal, however, there are numerous codices and conditions that are proving difficult to translate."
"Make sure they get it right," Trick purred. "Last thing we need's a slipshod ritual translation."
***
The varnished floor of the Sunnydale High gym was a deep caramel sky reflecting hundreds of halogen stars and the players from Sunnydale and Brookhaven described their orbits through the hardwood solar system with celestial precision. Percy West circled around a screen and took a pass from Mike Haven. Percy's legs were already gathered beneath him as he caught the ball. He rose into the air and sent a perfectly arched jumper through the twine, the ball dropping out of the sky like a shooting star with backspin.
Willow clapped her hands twice as the net twisted around the rim and the crowd exploded, the noise rocketing around the gym. The SHS Razorbacks might not be having a great basketball season, but they had brought their 'A' game tonight. Midway through the second quarter Brookhaven, a contender for the state playoffs, only led by 31-28. The disgusted Brookhaven coach signaled for a timeout and lit into his players even before they were off the floor.
The Sunnydale cheerleaders raced onto the floor and assumed formation. They paused for a beat, knees bent, then Cordelia barked "Okay!" As one their arms shot out perpendicular to their bodies, the right straight, the left bent at the elbow back toward the body.
"Pretty good, aren't they?" Oz said.
"Yeah." The corner of Willow's mouth quirked. "Cordelia makes sure of that."
"She is curiously intense about it." Oz sat silently for a moment. "It's kind of like the eight hundred pound gorilla, isn't it?"
"What? Oh, yeah." Willow's attention was jerked away from the players returning to the court. "But I don't see... I mean, what can we do?" She kept her voice low.
Oz shrugged. "Not much, I guess. Seems odd, though."
Willow's lips tightened. "We'll deal with it when it's time. There's nothing we can do now, so I choose to just let it go."
"Kind of blasé, even by our standards."
Willow glanced around. The crowd ignored them, its attention focused on the game. "We're underdogs, but underdogs can win. David beat Goliath."
"Yeah." Oz exhaled. "But he only fought him once. How many times can we come out on top?"
Marcus Jones grabbed the rebound of a Brookhaven miss and made the outlet pass to Percy West. Percy took two dribbles and zipped the ball to Kyle Broughton on the wing. He drove baseline and drew two defenders to him, then dished the ball between them to Percy sprinting down the lane. Percy took one long stride and jumped. The ref blew his whistle as Percy dunked the ball over the defender who had belatedly spun away from Kyle. The gym was in pandemonium as the referee indicated that Percy's dunk was good and he would receive one free throw.
"How many times?" Willow asked, her hands clapping wildly. "As many times as we need to, I guess."
***
"Hey, look at that." Faith nudged Xander in the ribs and pointed through the screen of trees. He saw a black car, he thought it was a Mercury Marquis, drive slowly through the gate and accelerate away from CTI.
"Should we follow it?" he whispered.
Faith looked at him, laughter flickering in her eyes. "Only if you got a set of wheels stashed somewhere." She turned back to her vigil. "Nah. Let 'em go." Xander's face burned and he was glad they were in the dark.
"So," Faith whispered, "what this Seal shit?"
Xander shrugged before he realized it was a useless gesture in the blackness. "Another special production courtesy of the Hellmouth, I guess. You get used to it after a while. You know, like people in San Francisco get used to the fog."
"Or the way you get used to the rats in Boston," Faith said.
"Boston has rats?" Xander turned his head toward her.
Faith laughed bitterly. "Until I was five I thought I had a really twitchy puppy. Boston has more rats than people."
"Brrrr." Xander shuddered. "I think I'd rather deal with the Hellmouth."
"You get used to it. Hey, there go a couple of likely suspects. Let's have some fun." She rose up and slipped away in the dark.
"Hey," Xander hissed. "We're supposed to do surveillance. Surveillance doesn't involve fighting and killing. Oh, crap," he said, pushing himself upright to follow her. "Wait a minute."
***
Giles stared at the pitifully small stack of books sitting on the counter. He knew that he couldn't be fluent in every subject under the sun, but he still felt a vague depression over his astounding lack of knowledge or even information about the Seal of Solomon. He had to admit that even his texts didn't tell him much more than the facts Willow had shared. Or maybe he was in a funk because it seemed that almost everything he thought he knew seemed to be turning on its head.
The two streams of thought converged and he reached for the phone. He dialed from memory and listened to the burring ring on the other end of the line. No one answered. Giles furrowed his brow. The receiver clicked in his ear and a voice said, "Who is this?"
Giles held the phone at arm's length and stared at it. The voice sounded tinny as it repeated, "Who is this?" The raspy sound of breathing shook him from his trance and he slammed the phone into its cradle. He stared at it for a second as though it might turn into a viper and launch itself at him, fangs bared. He pressed his hands against the counter to quell their trembling. When the shaking subsided he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, then straightened his glasses and hurried out of the library.
***
Cordelia sprinted off the floor and took her place at the end of the line of cheerleaders. The gym was awash in the white noise of an agitated throng. Brookhaven had already broken their huddle and the five players milled around the lane. The ref went to the Sunnydale bench to remind them that the time-out was over. The other official stood at in front of the scorers' table, ball cradled on his hip. Mike Haven stood beside him. Cordelia wasn't a strong student of basketball strategy, but everyone in the gym with a functioning brain cell knew the ball was going to Percy West. With seven seconds left the score was 69-66 in favor of Brookhaven and Percy had scored twenty-six of Sunnydale's points. The ref blew his whistle and handed the ball to Mike. The cheerleaders took a knee, pom-poms on the floor. Players began scrambling and Coach Ibsen started screaming something about one box. Percy tried to shake free but his man stuck to him like styrofoam packing peanuts. Mike grimaced and passed to Marcus Jones. Marcus took one dribble and passed to Percy, who caught the ball with a hand in his face. He up-faked, then power dribbled around his man into the lane. He stopped and pump-faked. The Brookhaven center shot into the air, buying the fake big-time. Percy left his feet a split-second later, leaning into his opponent to draw contact while launching an off-balance jump shot. The ball spun through the air, kissed the glass and dropped through the rim, but there was no whistle, no foul, and the Sunnydale crowd lapsed into stunned silence as the horn sounded and the scoreboard read Sunnydale 68, Opponent 69. Cordelia spun away from the court, a disgusted look on her face.
"That so sucks," Ashley Burton whined.
"Tell me about it," Cordelia grumbled as she snatched her gym bag from underneath the bleachers.
"Hey, the guys played really good," Andrea Pierce said.
"So what?" Cordelia said. "That's just another way of saying 'Nice try, losers'." She jammed her poms into the bag. As she pulled the zipper closed she looked up and saw Giles talking to Ms. Hollis. It looked like a pretty deep conversation. Cordelia made a face and turned away. Did the whole fighting the undead thing have to seep into every part of her life?
"So?" Ashley said impatiently, hands on hips.
"What?" Cordelia asked, annoyed.
"Are you going to the Bronze?" Ashley said.
Cordelia glanced over her shoulder. Ms. Hollis was still talking to the librarian. Cordelia shook her head like a fighter after a standing eight count and looked at Ashley. "Yeah," she said. "After I shower and change."
