School was finally out for the summer. The girls were doing family things and training as much as possible. Buffy tried to let them have more of a personal life than she did. She felt that they worked better if they played harder. Riley, Tea and Mary were going to fly to LA for the summer and help at Angel Investigations. Cordelia had mentioned she would like some slave labor. Faith had reassured Buffy that they would train and not be answering phones all day.

            Eva was going on vacation with her family, and promised to keep a lookout of more Slayers. She had a pocketful of phone numbers to call just in case, and a supply of stakes. Buffy had sat her down and made sure that it was understood that being out after dark was an open invite for vamps to try and snack on her.

            "If you absolutely have to travel after dark, take a car, or make sure you're armed." Buffy was unhappy but Eva was firm, she wanted to go on this vacation. Buffy wished her and 'Dooncan's girrrls' the best and hope that they would all come back.

            She was depressed for a bit, and she sat and talked at length with Duncan and Richie. She was brutally honest with them about the girls chances. Methos had been in the meeting as well.

            "Last summer, when we began getting the potentials from all over we ended up with about 23. In the first few months of training, we lost two. In the next few months of battle with the first, we lost five more. In the final battle we lost another 4, and they were full slayers." Buffy sighed at the remembered faces of the girls she had gotten close to, despite wanting not to. "I am officially the oldest living slayer. Ever. Giles says it is because I gathered a support system of friends and family, when no other slayer had been allowed to. We are our girls support system, and I hope that we made them strong enough." She sighed and wiped her suddenly wet eyes. Duncan handed her the kleenex box, "Here Buffy."

            "I don't think I really need the box." She said with some asperity and took a kleenex.

            Duncan watched as she composed herself, "As immortals we live with a lot of loss. We mourn and don't forget. It's all we can do." He said quietly and Methos grunted in assent. His hand holding Buffy's, deep in thought.

            A few weeks later Methos decided to sell his house in London after someone had expressed interest in it. He had flown to London and was supposed to be gone for several days, dealing with the sale, taxes etc. Buffy had decided to stay with Mac and Richie, being alone didn't have a lot of appeal for her.

            Duncan was putting away groceries, chatting with Buffy and Richie who were seated at the bar. Richie was illustrating a practical joke that someone had played and Buffy was practically gasping with laughter.

            "Mac?" Richie looked in concern at Duncan who was frozen in place.

            "I think I threw my back out!" he said in amazement, then groaned. Richie and Buffy helped him lie down on the floor and Richie quickly tossed the rest of the stuff in the fridge before closing the door.

            Buffy held out her hands to Richie, "Hold my hands. I'm going to 'carefully' walk on Mac's back."

            "Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Richie asked doubtfully.

            "Don't be a sissy. It's not like I'm going to kill him or anything." Richie gave her his hands and shrugged, "Okee dokee."

            Mac snorted, then moaned. Buffy was starting to rub off on Richie in the most amusing ways. He moaned again when Buffy stepped on his back and started to slowly walk.

            They all could hear the crunches of the vertebrae getting realigned. Mac was about to say something when they felt the buzz of an immortal. "Methos!" Buffy said brightly. Before she could move, the door opened and there stood Methos. Hawaiian shirt, green shorts, sandals and a straw hat and a puzzled look on his face as he surveyed the scene before him. Buffy was standing on Duncan's back, and holding Richie's hands.

            "Well, what is this?" His eyebrows were raised in amusement.

            "It's my back." Came Mac's voice out of the carpet. Buffy carefully got off and they helped Mac stand. He turned to face Methos and laughed.

            "What in the hell are you wearing old man?" he asked incredulously.

            Buffy giggled and threw herself into Methos arms. He caught her with a grunt and kissed her.

            "I'm glad you're home." She took his straw hat and sailed it to Richie.

            "Hey, I'll have you know I spent good money on that hat." Methos protested.

            Buffy cupped his handsome face in her hands,  "You were so robbed!"

            The men broke up at this and Duncan came up to shake Methos' hand. "So did you sell it?" Duncan asked. Methos sat on the couch with a sigh, Buffy lying in his lap.

            "Yes. The sale went through on Monday and the paperwork finished yesterday." Methos said.

            Now Richie had started throwing the grapes that Mac had bought at Buffy who was trying to catch them in her mouth. There was juvenile laughter and giggling as grapes rolled every which way. She sat up to get better control when one went into her shirt, inside her bra.

            Richie laughed and even Duncan chuckled at Buffy's annoyed expression as she tucked her fingers in to fish it out.

            "Oh, let me." Methos said, heat in his voice.

            "No! No perverted games on my couch Methos." Mac stated emphatically, then laughed again as Buffy said, "Ah Ha! I've got it!" She held up the offending grape, which Methos snatched and popped into his mouth.

            "Mine!" he said and smiled as Buffy rolled her eyes.

            Duncan stretched gingerly and smiled, "Buffy, I think I might keep you around. My back feels much better."

            Buffy saluted, "I'm here to serve!"

            Richie cleared his throat and looked at Duncan. Duncan nodded in resignation, "Joe called."

            "What did our favorite Publican want?" Methos inquired. (a/n Over in the British Isles a Publican is someone who owns or runs a pub, or bar as we Yanks call it.)

            "He heard you were here."

            Richie looked at the confused Buffy. "Joe is Mac's and my watcher. Our watchers technically just watch and chronicle our lives." He explained.

            "Like a peeping Tom?" Buffy asked indignantly. Methos laughed at this and Duncan smiled wryly. "No. More intrusive than that."

            "Who is your watcher?" She asked her lover who shrugged. "Duncan?" he asked innocently.

            "Nay! Not me." Duncan held up his hands in self defense.

            Methos looked at Buffy with a grin, "What can I say. I hid out so well that there is only a partial record of my life. I've been a watcher, a story for another time, I just don't have one. Duncan does keep some records that he passes on to Joe, but that's it."

            Duncan nodded his head, "By the way, Joe want us to visit the bar, and he's a little hurt that we haven't gone since you arrived."

            "Did you tell him I was busy?"

            "Yes, but we still need to go. Tonight."

            "Damn interfering old man." Methos whined and Buffy looked at him in surprise. "Whining?"

            "I can, it's my right." He sulked and Buffy laughed.