A/N: I've had a pretty poor response to the last chapter. This chapter has been long in the coming because of it. I'm not so snippy as to stop writing because I don't get reviews, but if I don't get a good response I don't get enthusiastic about the next chapter, and it muddles along slowly. I'm reasonably sure that there are more than five people reading this, and I'd like you lot to give me some feedback. Once more, thanks to Ultrawoman and Ezekeiel Rage, both of whom do an exceptional job.

Disclaimer: I would totally worship a giant chicken with a pink butt. Totally.

XXX

Best laid plans

William was in pain. It was horrible. He'd never felt anything this terrible in his life, he was sure of it, and it was all Rupert's fault. His training regime had begun the day before, after school in the back room of the Magic Box. It had comprised mostly of stretches and a few simple weapon drills, and William had been a little stiff only now his muscles burned with cramps, and any motion made him ache.

With a low moan, William grabbed the four books on weapons that Rupert had asked him to get from the school library and tottered painfully towards the door. Turning the corner, he collided with a moving pile of books, falling down in shock and watching the stack of books fall the other way, revealing a slight young woman with glasses that appeared far too large on her thin face, making her look slightly owlish. Short brown hair surrounded her face, making her head seem a touch too large for her body.

"Oh, I'm so--"

"I'm terribly--"

"--couldn't see over the books--"

"--watching where I was going--"

"--should have been more careful--"

"--all my fault, really--"

"--hope I didn't hurt you--"

"--hope you and your books are okay--"

"--shouldn't have been going too fast--"

"--all the time--"

"--made you late--"

"--your afternoon--"

"--you mad? I'd be mad if I were you--"

"--really all my fault--"

"--I'm sorry" the pair finished their rambling apologies at the same time, before both blushed and began to pick up books. They gathered half each, and the girl looked at the pile of books in William's hand resignedly, before gesturing shyly that he could give them to her.

"Why don't I carry these?" he asked gallantly. The girl's eyes opened comically wide.

"But you were just coming out of the library," she exclaimed quietly, shaking her head. "I don't want to be in any trouble."

"It- it's no trouble," William assured her, balancing the books precariously in one hand and adjusting his glasses He tilted his head towards the library and she passed him with a grateful smile. William followed, wincing in pain when his sore muscles pulled painfully.

The pair wound their way through the messy library, coming to a halt at the back of the room, where the slight girl dropped all her books on an empty table.

"You can just leave them there," she whispered, pointing to the space next to the stack she'd just put down. "Thanks for that."

"No trouble at all," William reiterated. "I'm William Giles," he added as an afterthought, recalling that it was considered polite to introduce oneself to a lady.

The girl stared at him for a blank moment, obviously mortified. "I'm…" William smiled reassuringly. "I'm Beth. Elizabeth, really, but everyone calls me Beth." They shook hands, and William's eyes drifted to the book on top of the first pile.

"Wordsworth?" he asked, more to himself than her. She tucked her hair behind her ears and ducked her head a little.

"I- I like poetry," she said softly, eliciting an interested look from the English boy.

"Really? Do you prefer free verse or more structured works?" he asked, excited to finally find someone with whom he could share this interest. Dawn and Spike were the only other options for William. Spike was excluded from that list because William valued his fingers. Dawn because… just because.

"I like them both, but probably free verse. It's expression at it's best," Beth whispered animatedly. William smiled warmly.

"Of course, but there is a mathematical symmetry and beauty to more structured verse which, I feel, more than-- is that the time?" he asked suddenly, catching sight of the clock on the wall. Beth nodded. "Bugger! I'm late then," he told the slightly shocked girl. He looked at the piles of books on the table. "Do you know which books would be mine?" He waited for her nod before continuing. "Then perhaps I could see you in here tomorrow at lunch time?"

"Oh. Okay," Beth murmured, eyes large as William frantically hobbled off to meet Giles.

XXX

Giles swung the staff at William's head in a tight arc, the wood clacking loudly as the boy managed to bring his staff up to block only to be caught by Giles' follow-through, hooking the back of William's knee. The young man sprawled on the floor uncomfortably while he caught his breath before heaving himself to his feet.

"I think we've done enough for today, Will," Giles said, taking pity on the boy's obvious pain. He got a grateful smile in return for his kindness as William put away his part of the training equipment. It was really quite surprising, how well William adapted to combat. Though, Giles mused, it probably shouldn't be. After all, Spike was, at one stage, William.

What was remarkable was the lack of complaint from the young man. Giles pushed him almost as hard as he had Buffy, back when she still trained with him, and while he was obviously in pain and the pace was often punishing him, he never complained. It was a highly refreshing change for the Watcher. Giles felt a rush of paternal pride as he watched the young man surreptitiously rub his sore muscles, his knowledge of the pain he'd be in tomorrow not deterring him once.

As the elder man undid his safety equipment he felt a sharp pull on his muscles, causing him to realise he wasn't in the best shape either. Ever since Buffy and Spike had taken to patrolling together-- no, before that. After he got fired from the Council he'd stopped honing himself, trusting that Buffy would be able to look after herself well enough. It was remiss of him, both as her Watcher and as her friend.

"Rupert?"

"Yes?" Giles replied after starting out of his reverie. William had a thoughtful look on his face, one of those that rarely boded well.

"Christmas is coming up, and I was wondering if I could have a job here at the Magic Box so I could get some money and you're easier to approach about this sort of thing." At Giles' look, he elaborated. "Anya can be scary."

Giles suppressed a snort of laughter, amused at Will's fear and relieved at the mundane problem he wished to resolve --after all, living on a Hellmouth does promote a healthy case of paranoia-- and ushered the young man into the main part of the shop.

"Well, we'll have to okay it with Anya as you'll be working mainly with her," Giles told him, enjoying the apprehensive expression on his face wholly too much. "I'm sure we'll be able to put you to work."

XXX

"You want me to take you out on a date, love?" Spike asked incredulously.

"Yes, a date," Buffy reiterated. "Is that so hard?" she pouted as they wandered back to the Magic Box from patrol.

"Not hard at all, pet," the vampire assured her. "Just a bit of a surprise is all."

"Oh?" the Slayer exclaimed sharply. "So I wouldn't want to be taken on dates, then? I suppose I just want to go to your crypt and get 'shagged'?"

"I didn't say that," Spike replied carefully, half afraid of the volatile Slayer. "I'd love to take you out on a date, love. I'm just not sure how to handle your mum."

"What do you mean, handle my mom?" Buffy asked, her anger already forgotten.

"Well, it's not like I can go up to her and say, 'I'm here to pick up your daughter for a night on the town and a nice, long shag', can I?" he asked with a sardonically raised eyebrow. Buffy stifled a giggle.

"Can't you just use your old timey manners?" At Spike's blank look, she elaborated. "You know, from William's time?"

"William's a bloody ponce. Closest thing I ever got to courting someone was with Dru, and I don't think your mum would appreciate those manners. She doesn't seem to be the sort who'd appreciate a still warm human heart."

XXX

Dawn took a large, calming breath and checked her outfit one more time. Her best pair of jeans, her favourite top, the pair of shoes that looked killer even though they really, really hurt to wear. Right, okay. Everything still on, no walking through the cafeteria with no clothes on. Pinch, check. Not a dream ergo not a nightmare. She worriedly checked her hair in the trophy case reflection one last time, before walking through the large double doors.

"Do we have any of that microwave cookie mix?" Dawn asked as she rummaged through the pantry, the left-overs from her binge thus far strewn across the table; an empty bag of cookies, a hollowed out pint of ice cream, an empty box of pop tarts and a plate with the chocolate smears, all that remained of some brownies.

Buffy looked at the mess on the table, then at her sister. "Ask him out, already."

As she walked through the big, crowded room -- a small part of her mind noting, with no small satisfaction, that she had caught the eye of a few of the boys in the room -- she felt an unpleasant sensation in the pit of her stomach. It was like there were a bunch of butterflies in there, all of whom had just been on the roller coaster and were now throwing up and flying around in circles, bumping into one another drunkenly.

Dawn didn't know why. She was only going to ask him out for a coffee or something. Test the waters, so to speak. Like dipping your toe in the bath water to see if it's hot or cold or just right. And it's not like she and William had never had coffee before. Okay, so it was, but that was mostly because they didn't drink coffee. Well, Dawn didn't. Maybe Will did, and that's why he didn't speak to her any more? Maybe he thought she was prejudiced against coffee drinkers!

When she laid eyes on the young man in question, sitting in his usual spot against the wall, absently scribbling in some book or other, the hysterical feeling ebbed away, leaving plain old nervousness in it's place.

"Hey Will," the Key murmured as she sat down with a plop next to the quiet boy. An odd collection of expressions was plastered on his face, predominantly shock and confusion.

"Err, hello," he stuttered, eyes flicking behind glasses, checking her out. Feeling an extreme rush of feminine pride, Dawn preened a little under William's embarrassed flush. Nothing like reducing a guy's vocabulary to boost an ego.

"I was just wondering what you were doing after school today," she began, rushing on when she saw his mouth open, "because I was thinking that it might be cool if we went out and got coffee or something." William's mouth opened and closed without making a sound. "Of course, if you don't want to you don't have to. I just thought you might like to, is all," she finished defensively, feeling very apprehensive.

"It's not that I don't want to," William began apologetically. "It's just that I have plans today. I'm going to that bookstore down the road from the Magic Box with Beth, today. We agreed to meet up there at four o'clock so she could give me back my books."

"No problem," Dawn managed to breathe, feeling decidedly faint. She felt the rosy warmth of an unwanted blush begin to creep up her body. Great, that was all she needed to make this humiliation complete. "I'll just be… going."

Ignoring William's goodbye, Dawn focused intently on managing to make her way out of the cafeteria without embarrassing herself further.

XXX

"You guys, we should probably stop being supervillians now," Jonathan complained nasally, earning himself two hard stares. Well, to be more accurate, one hard stare and one weird squint.

"You wimping out on us, Sparky?" Warren, owner of the hard stare, asked.

"No, no. No. It's just, the Slayer's already caught us once and I really don't want to go to the Big House again…"

"I kind of liked it there," Andrew mused, giving up on his weird squint. He blinked, realising a long, horrified silence had followed his last comment. "What? The food was nice."

"She won't catch us," Warren countered, having decided to ignore Andrew's opinion. "This time, we'll be prepared."

"What do you mean, prepared?" Jonathan asked suspiciously

"We're going high tech, shorty. We're going to wire up everywhere the Slayer'll go, so we'll know where she is at all times from right here in our very lair."

"Cameras?"

"You know it short-stop. In every room of the house." Warren grinned smugly at the obviously awed expressions on his compatriot's faces.

"Even the shower?"

XXX

"We need some more useful tools," It rumbled, casting a derisive glance at black-robed, ritually scarred figures standing guard at the oak door.

"Couldn't agree more, mate. And I know of some who just became available."

XXX

A/N: Try and remember, folks. While I am creative (or so I like to think) and I very much do enjoy writing, the only reward I get from these stories comes in the form of reviews. If you've read this much of the story, I can only assume you've enjoyed yourself and I ask one thing in payment. Leave a review. Doesn't have to be long, or detailed, or insightful. Just a little something to let me know you're reading, and what you like or would like to change. If I don't get my review fix here, then I'll start a new project that'll take over the majority of my writing time searching for it. Keep me motivated, boys and girls.