Disclaimers found in Chapter One

Chapter Five

The Penny Drops

"I've got a lovely bunch of co-co-nuts," Buffy sang softly. She wiggled her hips, waving the dishrag. "There they are all standing in a rooow—oof!" A particularly jaunty step backwards brought her up against something hard. She froze, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Refusing to turn around, she closed her eyes. "Giles?" she asked, a bright flush already suffusing her face.

"Yes?" The amusement in his voice confirmed it—he'd seen the whole thing. She cringed, hoping that he'd at least come in after she'd finished "I Just Can't Wait To Be King."

There had been a chorus line and everything.

She groaned. "Please go out and come in again," she pleaded. "And let's pretend this never happened."

"Would that really make you feel better?" he asked, laughter lacing every word.

"No," she admitted, finally turning around to meet the twinkling green eyes. It was almost worth the humiliation, just to see the smile on his face. Of course, she reflected sadly, this was probably going to set her seduction plans back considerably. "But it would make me feel better if you stopped laughing."

He appeared to make a conscious effort to do so, but he was not having much luck. "I'm very much afraid that's not going to be possible," he told her, his grin widening in spite of himself. "But I must ask—do you take requests?"

"Giles!" She buried her face in her hands. "Have some pity!"

"Perhaps something in the Elton John oeuvre," he suggested mercilessly.

She hit him in the arm. "Cut it out!" Casting around for a subject change, she asked desperately, "Why are you home so early, anyway?"

He allowed her the escape, still smiling. "I actually found something that might be useful," he told her. With a decidedly un-Gilesy look of mischief in his eyes, he added slyly, "Although, had I known there was going to be a performance in progress, I should never have gone in at all."

She glared. "Focus, you big meanie. What did you find?"

He gave in, moving to fill the teakettle. "It might be nothing. It's a…a spell, of sorts. There's a mention of something called the Mandelusian Orb in some of my books. It's referred to as a sort of mystical channel of youth. I've ignored it, up to now, because the spell required to utilize the Orb has been lost for centuries. However, today an occult store based in LA called the shop. They were looking for a Mandelusian Orb, most of which have been lost for nearly as long as the spell itself. Apparently he has an order, and he sold the only one he had just over a week ago." He gave her a significant look. "He also mentioned that he sold it to the same customer who is now requesting a new one. He couldn't fathom what this young man could want with a second Orb, since the first one is worthless as anything more than a pretty prism. He attempted to offer the customer a different Orb, but the man was quite insistent."

Buffy processed this. Something about it was tickling at the back of her mind, but she couldn't place it. "A young man?" she asked.

"An unpleasant youth, he said—but human, which is why I came home. You mentioned seeing a demon, did you not?"

She hesitated. "I saw three shadows," she finally replied. "And the Blue Light Special. That's all."

What was she supposed to be remembering, here? Human. Three shadows. The answer danced around in the back of her mind, taunting her.

Giles sighed. "A dead end, most likely. The Orb is supposedly useless. Even if anyone had managed to find the spell, it would take a powerful sorcerer to use it. And with Ethan tucked away in Nevada, I simply don't know of any others who could possibly have a reason to try to hurt you or your friends. And the young man was, after all, in LA. It's not an impossible trip, but certainly lessens the likelihood that the two things are related. Certainly no one has attempted to purchase one of these orbs at the Magic Box."

That didn't feel quite right. She knew the answer to this…if she could only think—

"Where are the children?" Giles asked suddenly, seeming to notice their absence for the first time.

"Dawn has them upstairs," she replied. When he glanced at the clock in surprise, she nodded wryly. "She ditched class—apple doesn't fall far, does it? Said she wanted to come home and help out. I suspect she was trying to get out of her history test." He shot her a disapproving look, and she grinned. "Oh, she's grounded," she assured him. "But in the meantime, I'm happy to let her help out all she wants."

Just then, Dawn meandered down the stairs, stopping guiltily when she spotted Giles. "Oh," she said lamely, "hi, Giles."

"You should be at school," he reproved gently.

The younger girl flushed, but didn't back down. "You should be at work," she retorted.

"Yes, it's quite a day for playing hooky," Buffy interrupted, heading off an actual confrontation. "You're both grounded. So what does everyone want for dinner?"

Giles and Dawn went from Standoff Mode to Co-Conspirator Mode in a matter of seconds, trading a look Buffy refused to try to decipher.

"The first person to insult my cooking goes hungry," she announced, glaring at the guilty-looking pair.

"What happens to the second person?" Dawn had the nerve to ask. Buffy threw the dishrag at her.

"That person has to eat it," she threatened.

Dawn looked at Giles. "I get to go first," she declared, without missing a beat.

Giles glared. "I'm your elder—I should get to go first."

"Hey, why should I have to be the one to eat it?" Dawn demanded.

Buffy threw up her hands in defeat. "You both deserve to have to eat it," she remarked. "You're mean."

"You do realize," Giles observed mildly, "that you have just become the first among us to openly insult your cooking. Therefore, by my calculations, you must go hungry. Since you're not eating, we'd never dream of asking you to cook. Dawn, I believe you and I shall order a pizza."

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "I hate you both," she informed them.

Dawn ignored her. "If you go out to pick it up," she advised, "pick up something for desert, too. The bakery next to the pizza place has awesome pies. Get a pumpkin one."

"You like pumpkin pie?" Giles asked innocently. Too innocently. He stood to go, casting a merry glance at Buffy on his way out. "Personally, I find myself with an almost unbearable urge for coconut."

He disappeared before Buffy could find anything to throw at him. What had gotten into him today?

Dawn gave her a quizzical glance. "What was that all about?" she asked curiously.

"Go back upstairs and babysit," Buffy evaded, picking up the discarded dishrag from the table. "I'm cleaning."

"The kids are napping," her sister replied, smiling blissfully. "Isn't that a wonderful sentence? The. Kids. Are. Napping." She tilted her face up to the ceiling. "They're silent, and they're asleep. And right now, I love my life."

Buffy chuckled. She'd felt that same way every day since this whole thing had started. "Well, the kids are asleep, and the kitchen is plenty clean enough. What do you say we go watch some TV?"

"Can we watch The Lion King?" Dawn asked, making her way to the door. "I haven't gotten to watch it since Giles brought it home."

Buffy gritted her teeth. "Try it, and I'll slay you," she growled. "I'm never watching that stupid movie again."

Giles couldn't stop smiling. All the way to the pizza parlor, and then to the bakery, where he manfully fought the urge to bring home a coconut pie, just to watch Buffy's face.

He knew his behavior was unlike him—but then, what wasn't, these days? He was changing diapers, bathing toddlers, fondling his Slayer…he flushed.

He should be more concerned about their situation, he thought ruefully. After all, they still had no idea what they were dealing with, and the Scoobies were losing valuable time from school and work. Not to mention the fact that Buffy had been fired for calling in three days in a row. Which was a relief, he had to admit—thinking of her working in that place had made his blood boil—but he knew it would put her already-shaky financial situation right back into trouble. He sighed. There was a lot to worry about.

And yet…and yet, he was having fun. It couldn't be denied.

Buffy was a revelation. She reminded him a little more every day of her former, carefree, silly self. He hadn't realized, until now, just how much he'd missed her laughter. Watching her dance and sing around the kitchen today had lifted his spirits like nothing else in the world.

Because she had thought she was alone.

He'd been afraid to trust the changes he was seeing in her, he realized. Afraid that she was putting on a show for him. She had admitted that she wanted him to come home—what if she had been putting on an act, to convince him? The laughter, the hugs—even their encounter this morning, and her apparent enjoyment of his touch—what if they were all a performance? An attempt to appear "normal"? The sadness in her eyes was unmistakable at times, which he had told himself was to be expected. But it hadn't changed the fear he'd been clinging to—the fear that, when no one was looking, she was still finding ways to self-destruct. To kill herself, slowly but surely, in a subconscious hope that she would actually die. Again.

And he would have to watch it happen.

Again.

He wasn't afraid of that anymore. He pulled the Jeep into the driveway, allowing a smile to creep across his face.

She'd been dancing.

Something had changed between Buffy and Giles.

Dawn studied the two surreptitiously over the open pizza box on the table. The children sat at the counter, happily pelting one another with pieces of cookie, which none of the adults was even trying to stop anymore. As long as they weren't openly attacking one another or injuring themselves, they could do whatever would keep them happy and out of trouble.

Kitchens—and toddlers—could always be cleaned later.

Buffy playfully swatted Giles' hand away from the last piece of pizza. "You've had four already," the Slayer announced. "I've been counting."

"Well, you certainly shouldn't get to have it," Giles objected. "You haven't eaten half of what's on your plate."

Buffy surveyed the three narrow pizza crusts littering her plate. "What do you mean? I've eaten all of it!"

Giles gave a long-suffering sigh, and picked up one of her crusts. "Open wide," he said, speaking slowly, as if to one of the children.

"That's not pizza, that's crmmph—" Buffy's sentence broke off, as Giles took advantage of her open mouth to shove a pizza crust inside. Buffy glared. He grinned unrepentantly, tucking a gentle finger under her jaw to push her mouth closed. His touch lingered a moment longer than was necessary.

Buffy's gaze softened for a moment before she seemed to remember herself, and opened her mouth wide, treating them all to a charming view of partially-chewed pizza crust.

Giles shook his head. "Very mature," he observed, amused. He reached up, casually brushing a crumb from Buffy's chin.

Dawn's own jaw dropped open.

That's what had changed between them! They were all…touchy. And jokey. It was unlike her sister, at least lately, but it was really unlike Giles-

Her eyes widened. Was it even remotely possible that these two were figuring things out on their own? It didn't seem possible—Buffy was not exactly Emote-O-Gal these days, although she had admittedly been getting much better since the whole invisible thing. And Giles—Giles was, like, the Most British Man in the Whole World. She didn't think these two would acknowledge a genuine emotion if it were staring them in the face.

Which, actually, had been her Master Plan. She'd been chasing them around behind their backs with a camera for the last two days, fully intending to shove their fledgling relationship right under their noses—or up them, if necessary—until one or both of them was willing to admit what was really going on.

It was beginning to look like that would be unnecessary. She was almost disappointed.

Oh, well. At least she'd end up with some great blackmail photos for the rest of the gang. Bright side to everything. Maybe she should start a Hellmouth Hall of Fame photo collection, she mused. Enough weird things happened around here to fill a dozen albums.

"You know what I just realized/" she remarked idly, forgetting for a moment that she wasn't supposed to be sharing her Master Plan with her victims, at least until she was sure they were on the right track. "We need a photo album."

"A photo album?" Buffy asked around the last of her pizza crust. "We have a bunch of photo albums, Dawn."

"Yeah, but wouldn't it be funny to have a Hellmouth album?"

Giles looked appalled. "You'd like us to start photographing demons before we kill them?"

Dawn giggled. "Well, no, but now that you mention it…" She shrugged. "I just thought we could take pictures of some of the funnier stuff—like the guys being babies, stuff like that." She turned to Buffy. "It would have been really funny if we could have gotten pictures of Invisible Buffy. Put a hat on your head, maybe give you some flowers to hold—"

"Invisible Buffy!" Her sister's sudden shout made Dawn jump a mile. At the counter, Xander squeaked in surprise, and Tara looked like she might start to cry.

Giles was looking at her sister oddly. Dawn couldn't blame him. Had Buffy lost her mind?

"It's the three idiots! They've been stalking me!" The Slayer sounded positively overjoyed by this. "I'm such a loser!" she added happily. "I knew there was something I should have known! I can't believe what a dummy I am!"

"Buffy, really," Giles observed, blinking, "this free-association monologue of yours is fascinating, but it's not making you look particularly…er, stable. I do hope you have a point?"

Her sister drew a deep breath. "Sorry." She looked at Giles. "It's just—I know who did this! At least, I'm pretty sure I do."

It clicked. Dawn smacked her own forehead. "Oh, my god, you are a loser!" she told Buffy. "And so am I!"

Giles raised an eyebrow. "Is anyone planning to actually tell me who did this?" he asked mildly.

Buffy patted his knee. "Sorry, Giles. There are these three guys—nerds, actually—one of them is that kid Jonathan, from high school." She gazed expectantly at her Watcher, who nodded, clearly waiting for her to go on. "Anyway, they've been stalking me, doing all kinds of stupid stuff—spells and demons and weird lint that makes time go all wonky. Remember? You thought I was nuts." She nudged him irritably. "Anyway, a little while ago they made this weird gun thing out of a diamond or something, and turned me invisible. I almost died—remember I mentioned a story about Buffy pudding? That was it." She stopped to take a breath, then smiled brightly. "Anyway, I know they're behind this. It's exactly the kind of irritating thing they do. And Warren? The leader of the gang? He definitely qualifies as an 'unpleasant youth'."

Giles gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment, before nodding. "And do you know where to find these three…er, nerds?"

Buffy deflated. "Well, no," she admitted. "But I will. At least now I know who I'm looking for."

The Watcher hesitated. "Are you certain, Buffy? As I said, it would take a very powerful sorcerer, and three young boys—"

Buffy shook her head. "It's them, Giles. I don't know how it's them, but I know it's them. And when I find them, you can ask them all the questions you want. Once I finish pounding them into the floor."

Giles nodded. "In that case," he suggested, "I recommend we get bath-time over with as soon as possible, so that you can patrol."

Patrol wasn't going very well at all. She'd been walking for an hour, but without Willow's computer-savvy assistance, she didn't even know where to begin looking for the Nerd Herd's hideout. She rolled her eyes. She wasn't even going to get the satisfaction of staking them after she found them.

A telltale tightening in her stomach alerted her to the vampire's presence a moment before she saw him. He was…a fashion nightmare. She gaped. Red leather pants that clung like a second skin, a white velvet button-front shirt, left partially open at the collar to reveal pasty white chest, and a pair of what looked like white vinyl boots. She cringed.

"Slayer," he growled, obviously aiming for 'sinister and threatening'. He landed somewhere near 'mildly constipated.' She smothered a laugh.

She flicked her wrist, allowing the stake to fall comfortably into her hand. "Slayee," she greeted calmly.

The vampire raised an eyebrow, and made a slight gesture with his hand. Three of what could only be described as his 'henchvamps' stepped out of the trees nearby, moving in on her from all directions.

The leader—if you could call him that—sneered. "Four on one," he observed. "I don't like your odds."

She made a sympathetic sound. "Oh. You must be pretty new, then, huh?"

The vampire directly behind her lunged. Buffy never took her eyes off the leader as she thrust the stake backwards, dusting her attacker without turning around. The other two vamps moved quickly, coming at her from both sides. Twisting, she grabbed one by the arm and pulled, stepping backwards just in time to send him flying into his partner. She swept out her foot in a low roundhouse kick, taking them both to the ground, and staked them in quick succession. Dusting off her hands, she turned back to the leader.

"Do you like my odds any better, now?" she asked innocently. When she saw he was going to run, she grabbed his arm. "No?" She shrugged philosophically. "That's okay. I don't like your outfit."

She dusted him easily, shaking her head. "That was just pathetic," she muttered. "I mean, white vinyl boots?"

"You're still dropping your shoulder." The wry British voice startled her. "Also, you're still insisting on conversing with them, I see."

Buffy grinned at him and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. 'Plunge and move on, plunge and move on.' Tell me, Giles. Was that in the handbook?"

He had the grace to look embarrassed. "Yes, well…"

"What are you doing out here, anyway?" she demanded. "Did you leave Dawn alone with the kids?"

He nodded. "They were sleeping—she said she could handle it. I wanted to let you know that the store owner in LA called again. He left a message at the Magic Box, letting me know he had found the Orb, and the young man was coming back to pick it up tomorrow. So, the boys you are looking for are, in all likelihood, not in Sunnydale at the moment."

Buffy nodded. "Thanks for the heads-up," she told him. "In that case, I hereby declare patrol finished for the evening, and recommend heading for the house before the kids wake up and Dawn totally loses her cool."

"Agreed."

They walked in companionable silence, but Buffy's thoughts were racing. They were alone. This would be an excellent time to put those seduction plans into action.

Unfortunately, she could not think of a single thing to say.

It was ridiculous, really. She was not unfamiliar with the concept of flirting. But then, this was Giles. Giles. The absurdity of the whole situation struck her anew, and she felt a moment's fear.

Flirting with Giles could have major repercussions. For one thing, he was her Watcher, and arguably the most important person in her entire life. If she just blurted out her feelings, he was liable to stutter his way right back to England on the first outbound flight. She couldn't handle the thought of any more awkwardness between them.

This was a bad idea. In fact, she couldn't believe she'd ever even thought this was a good idea. It was…this was Giles.

On the other hand…this was Giles.

Giles who had fought for her, and protected her, and spent countless sleepless nights frantically researching ways to save her life. Giles, who had attempted to face the Master in her place. Giles, who had skewered the Mayor for threatening her, and been fired from the Council for her, and had held her in his arms when her mother died. Giles, who sang like an angel, and snuggled in his sleep.

This was Giles.

Screw flirting, she was going to kiss him. She was just going to grab him and kiss him, that was all, and he would just have to deal with it.

She was going to have to hurry—they were home already, and if she waited any longer, they would actually be inside the house. She drew a deep breath.

"Buffy?"

The voice from the shadows took ten years off her life. She jumped a mile, whirling around, and felt Giles do the same.

Her stomach dropped when the figure emerged from the darkness. Oh, this was bad. This was very, very bad.

She closed her eyes. "Hello, Dad."