Part 6:

Buffy moved to the rhythm of the music, rubbing against the solid coldness of her lover, and did not have a care in the world. Why had she been so bleak these last few weeks? Because of Xander? Amy? Assassins? School? The changes in her own body? None of them were all that important, were they? They would still be there in the morning so she might as well take the night off to have fun with Angel.

Thankfully her lover seemed to have no problems with that at all. Which was kinda strange as she remembered him being something of a stuffed shirt now and then, always putting duty and obligation before his own happiness (though seldom hers). Not tonight, though. She had seldom seen Angel so lively and certainly was not about to complain.

Something else was strange, though. They had entered the Bronze looking for some partying, but the party going on all around them was not the kind she had expected. What were all these old people doing here anyway? Not that she cared much as long as they did not get in the way of her fun.

One of Angel's hands wandered beneath the thin material of her top and chased all wayward thoughts from her mind.

"Like that, me love?" Angel asked her with a heavy Irish brogue to his voice. It sounded incredibly sexy. A moan escaped her as his fingers found one of her nipples.

"Me like," she whispered, her nimble fingers quickly unbuttoning his shirt to return the favour. His skin gleamed like marble in the flickering lights and Buffy traced her tongue across his cool flesh, enjoying the taste of him. A growl built low in her throat as she felt the blood just underneath that pale marble surface. The blood was calling her with a sweet siren's voice.

"Want a taste?" Angel's fingers brushed across her lips and she eagerly sucked the digit in to her mouth, running her razor-sharp fangs across his skin until it broke. A few droplets of his sweet, sweet blood ran down her throat and Buffy pressed closer against him, wanting to taste more of him. Much more.

Suddenly the music stopped, only to be replaced by a middle-aged man bellowing into the microphone. Loud booing could be heard from the few teenagers present, though the older guys seemed to find the whole thing just peachy.

"What is this, senior citizen week?" Buffy looked disgusted. "They're ruining our night out."

"Want me to make it up to you?" A voice asked from behind her. Buffy turned to look at a man in his thirties, dressed in what might have been hip clothes about half a century ago. He was leering at her. "Nice young thing like you needs a real man to have fun with."

"So what are you doing here?" Buffy hissed at him, but the man seemed ignorant of the danger he was putting himself into. Angel narrowed his eyes, which were flashing amber.

"Spunky kid," the man continued undressing her with his eyes. "Maybe daddy needs to put you across his knee."

Moments later the man found himself sprawled across the floor, the people around him quickly stepping back in fear. His jaw was clearly broken, blood spilling from his split lips. Before he even had time to recover he was grabbed by two strong hands.

"What was that about putting someone across your knee?" Angel asked him, even as he draped the man's back across his own knee and started pushing down on his neck and hips. "You should really mind your manners, mate. Me thinks you need a little reminder of how to treat the ladies."

Buffy leaned over the helpless man, smiling.

"You owe me an apology," she sang in a teasing voice as Angel applied more and more pressure to the man's back. He groaned in pain.

"What was that? Didn't understand you."

#

Xander could not believe his eyes. What was going on here? If this night had not been strange enough before it sure was now. He had seen that man come on to Buffy, obviously out of his right mind what with Angel hovering so close to her with a very possessive look on his face. He was too far away to hear what they had been saying at first, even without the music it was still too loud, but everyone quickly went silent when Angel suddenly punched the guy, breaking half his face.

No matter how little Xander might still think of Angel he knew the vampire would never intentionally use his inhuman strength for something like this. It was not like that guy had been about to attack them.

Then Angel draped the guy's back across his knee, bending him at a very unnatural angle. Buffy did not do anything to stop him. Quite the contrary, she seemed to be enjoying herself.

A part of Xander almost cheered, thinking he had been proven right after all. Angel was still a monster and now he had turned Buffy into one as well. Was that not what he had always told everyone? A moment later he shook his head, violently pushing those thoughts away. Something strange was going on here tonight and it was not just Buffy and Angel. Something was causing everyone to act crazy and it had apparently infected them, too.

None of that really mattered for that guy whose back Angel was about to break, though.

Considering that neither Buffy nor Angel were too fond of him at the moment even when they were in their right minds Xander figured that what he was about to do might very well qualify as his most stupid act ever. Still, someone had to stop them from doing something that they would regret the moment they regained their sanity.

It looked like it was up to him.

#

"Giles?" Faith pounded against the Watcher's door but received no answer.

"Looks like he isn't home," Willow said. "Where could he be this time of night?"

Faith quickly reached below the door mat and produced a key, earning stares from the rest of the Scoobies.

"How come you know he has a key hidden there and we don't?" Cordelia asked.

"He's my legal guardian," Faith shrugged, "or will be soon. I thought it couldn't hurt to insure myself access."

Quickly unlocking the door they went inside, stopping once they saw the state of the living room. Clothing was strewn everywhere, most of it tweed, discarded like so much garbage. Two large boxes stood close to Giles' stereo, filled with records. More records were spread across the floor, along with some photographs and an honest-to-good acoustic guitar. The room smelled of cigarettes.

"Did we enter the wrong apartment?" Willow asked, looking around in shock.

"Wow," Faith said, digging through the records. "Giles has some vintage stuff here."

"Cool collection," Oz commented, squatting next to her.

"Hello," Cordelia interrupted them. "Can we postpone the musical discussion until we find out why all the adults in town are suddenly going retro on us?"

"Adults," Willow whispered. "Buffy and Angel are adults, too."

"Oh great, does that mean they will be running wild as well?"

None of them found themselves particularly calmed by that idea.

"This is definitely not good," Faith said, standing up again. "Not good at all. We have to find out why everyone is going whacko on us. Any ideas?"

The only thing she got was a lot of blank looks.

"Let's go to the Bronze," she sighed, again wondering how she had suddenly inherited the reigns of command of this little group. "I figure this is where all the wacky wayward wonder years guys are going to party."

#

Joyce Summers realized two things at the same time. One, she was out of chocolate, which was definitely not a good thing. The second was the fact that, despite wearing the hottest outfit she could find (one from her daughter's closet no less, meaning it was about two sizes too small for her, which was definitely a good thing considering her plans for the night), she was not attracting any guys at the moment.

There were quite a few of them out on the streets, which was puzzling for some reason she could not quite put her finger on. Somehow it seemed wrong for many people to be out after dark. She did not spend much thought on it, though. There were more important things to worry about.

"Why do they call you Ripper?" a sweet female voice asked somewhere behind her. Joyce turned around to see a guy in jeans walk down the street, a woman on each arm and a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

She recognized the guy. Rupert Giles, the school librarian. Didn't he usually wear tweed? Well, considering what she had found herself wearing earlier tonight (just because she was forty-two did not mean she had to dress the part, damn it!) she did not really have any stones to throw.

She was angry with Mr. Giles for something, that much she knew. She just was not quite sure what it was. Something to do with Buffy and all that responsible parent thing she had going. God, how had she ever ended up like this? Divorced, living alone (except for Faith, who was bunking in her house. Now that girl knew how to dress sexily), agonizing over how Buffy had moved out and was now actually older than she was.

Buffy was living with a guy and no doubt they had regular sex. Something Joyce found herself terribly short of. Giles had not noticed her, walking on with the two sluts on his arms. Joyce sniffed; these two could not be older than thirty-five or so. What did they know about satisfying a man?

Convinced that Giles (or Ripper, the girls had called him Ripper) would be heading to where the party was she decided to follow him.

TO BE CONTINUED