"Okay, okay, pipe down!" Suarez raised a hand. "Let's get this show on the road."
"Dog and pony show?"
"Ha, ha, Robertson, you're a card. Actually, you're two cards, a jack-ace. Now, we're all aware that this is a pet project of our dear friend in the Mayor's office–"
"You mean the Mayor's chair!"
"You said it, Arakelyan, not me. Aaaaanyway, we all know Baby Huey got his nose bloodied and we have to make his fee-fees all better." Suarez glanced down at his notes. "Here's the thing… there really is something here." He clicked the presentation pointer. "You see here the basics of Baby Huey's report… single white female, roughly five and a half feet tall, you see that's translated into meters on the screen for our more continental members, somewhere in the neighborhood of one-hundred-ten to one-hundred-twenty-five pounds, dark hair, tattoo on the right upper arm, apparently working free-lance, attracts potential johns, then takes their money, beating them up in the process." He clicked the pointer. "Feeding this into the database, we get nine reports matching this description and modus operandi. Yeah, I get it, big deal. Here's where it gets interesting." Pointer click. "Look at this cluster. The green dot is Baby Huey's reported location. Now, see how the others cluster in this–" pointer click and a circle appeared "-area. This being Vegas, and being that working the street is technically illegal, and using our normal rule of thumb, we could have double that number."
"Your point?"
"My point, Kasabian, is that we actually may have an investigation here. Sure, we're on this so that Big Brother can tell Baby Huey that the mean woman is being hunted, but we actually do have a string of assaults." Pointer click. "Couple of these guys have concussions, one guy has three broken fingers, one has a broken arm." Suarez placed the pointer on the table. "We might get to do some actual police work. First, Robertson and Arakelyan, I want you to get hospital reports and cross-reference this area–" pick up the pointer and click back "-with ER treatment, specifically focusing on the type of injuries we see in the reported attack. Why? Because this is still a fairly large area. If we get more data, I'm guessing we can create a denser cluster that will allow us to predict rather than just respond, and if we can predict, we can set a trap. Then, Big Brother can tell Baby Huey that the bad girl has been punished, and we all get gold stars. That okay with you guys? All right, get to it on the hospital info."
Giles blinked and looked up. The thudding at his front door continued. He placed a finger in his book and walked cautiously to the door. A quick peek through the side window and he threw open the door.
"Buffy," he said. "Is everything all right?"
"Uh, I'm not sure, so… " She stared at her Watcher. "You still have on a tie? Do you, like, wear one until you're ready for bed, and then…? Never mind." She waved a hand. "Don't freak. This may be nothing, but, uh…" She stepped to one side and Angel took her place in front of the door.
Giles stiffened, but said nothing. Angel was likewise silent, his head slightly bowed. The second hand of the clock on the wall was very, very loud.
"Giles," Buffy said, "can we come in?"
Giles licked his lips and looked from Angel to the Slayer. "I… I don't know…" He swiped a hand across his forehead; the palm came away covered in sweat.
"It's important, Giles," Buffy said. "And it's a little too complicated to explain standing out here on your porch."
Giles felt his breath coming shallow and fast. "All right," he said, stepping aside. "You may come in. You both may come in." The librarian's eyes burned as the duo stepped across his threshold and sat on opposite ends of the sofa. Giles moved stiffly to an armchair and lowered himself into its embrace.
"Thank you," Angel said, rubbing his hands together and looking at the floor. "I would say how sorry I am, but I know… that doesn't help much."
"I appreciate the gesture," Giles said, sitting very upright. "On an intellectual level, I know that you are not the one who…" He took a ragged breath.
"But I wear his face." Angel looked up. "I understand."
"Let's make this quick," the Slayer said. "Maybe that'll help."
Angel nodded. "Okay. Buffy asked me to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary."
"How can you do that without calling attention to yourself?" Giles asked in a voice just above a whisper.
Angel shrugged. "I'm sort of the invisible man right now. Nobody wants to be too close to me in case my… parole gets revoked. I'm ignored on the grounds that paying attention to me might draw the attention of the wrong sorts, especially if my… status is an oversight that changes."
"Wait," Giles said, "you mean…?"
"No," Angel said, "I have no idea how I got out of hell or why I'm here, which makes me someone to be avoided… and when everyone's busy not noticing you, they don't notice you."
Giles thought, then nodded. "All right, we'll assume that you're not being manipulated."
"You know that there have been random attacks all over Sunnydale, every night."
"Yeah," Buffy said. "It's running us ragged."
"Well, those are Trick's doing… and some of his people are a little upset that there isn't more killing." Angel rubbed his palms together. "These sorties are still happening, but lately there's always been a presence at the docks, even if there are larger squads elsewhere in town, always at the docks… and they're not trying to stir up trouble. I mean, every so often, there'll be a skirmish, but even then, it's two groups from Trick's HQ, the group that fights and the group that's watching. They don't mix."
"Do you have any idea as to the meaning of this behavior?" Giles asked.
"I think that Trick's trying to keep the Reverend running from pillar to post… Do you remember Florestan?"
"Yes," Giles said. "The demon who works for Mayor Wilkins."
"Yeah. I got wind that he visited UCS, a certain professor, so, a few nights ago, I visited the U, did some walking around, observed said professor… ' Angel leaned back in his chair. "And I wasn't the only one. The Reverend had someone hiding in the bushes."
"Were you seen?"
Angel grinned. "Not a chance. Anyway, I have a name for you… Dr. Herve Calderon, PhD."
"What does this mean?" Giles frowned and leaned forward.
"I don't know… but when I put together the docks and Florestan visiting this professor, my gut says that they're expecting the Seal."
Matti Hollis looked up and saw Rupert Giles standing at the top of the stairs. "Mr. Giles, what brings you to the gym?" she called, her voice booming in the empty space. Giles jumped a little, then descended the stairs cautiously. He stopped at the out-of-bounds line.
"You do know you can cross that?" Matti said.
"What? Oh, yes, um, I, uh, I seldom… visit this part of the building."
"Yeah, I noticed," Matti said. "Still traumatized from the old school days?"
"What?" Giles smoothed his tie with a nervous hand. "I will admit that physical education was not, not my favorite class."
"The other boys put you in a locker?"
"What? No, no… I, uh, I was sent to the headmaster's office."
"Why?"
"There were complaints."
Matti put a hand on her hip. "About… ?"
Giles cleared his throat. "That I was rather too… enthusiastic during rugby."
Matti looked stunned for a moment. "You are just a fountain of surprises. So, what can I do for you?" She looked around. "Class'll be out here in a minute."
"I need to ask for a favor."
"Well, after that little bomb you just dropped, how can I say no? What do you need?"
Giles touched his glasses. "I have received information that Mr. Trick might be concentrating on the docks. It even appears that he might be using his nightly activities as cover."
"That tracks. It would be a good idea, hide the signal inside the noise. We're so busy keeping the populace safe that we might miss that little bit."
"Then, here is my favor… could you possibly attempt to verify this information? Trick is supposedly keeping or sending a group to watch the docks every night, not to fight, but to watch."
"Sure." Matti glanced over her shoulder as girls began to straggle out of the tunnel. "If we verify the intel, do you want us to…?" She raised an eyebrow.
"What?" Giles's eyes widened. "Oh, no, no. I think it would be best if Trick did not know that we knew, don't you agree?"
Matti shrugged. "Yeah, but I wasn't the one who was too 'enthusiastic' about rugby." She turned and made a circling motion above her head; the students began to assemble along the end line. "Mind if I ask why you want us to verify this info?"
"I'm not sure if I trust the source," he said.
"Fair enough. Talk to you tomorrow. Ladies! Let's look alive!"
"Look up somebody online? No sweat. Piece of cake." Willow popped a grape into her mouth. "Who is it?"
Buffy used her fork to poke at the lunch tray. "A professor at UCS."
"Anything else? Social Security number?"
Buffy squinted. "I know he's a guy."
Willow nodded. "Okay, that narrows it down. Anything else?"
"His name is Calderon."
"Oh, you should have said that first," Willow said. "Done and done."
"Will, do you ever have any… misgivings about these little… forays?" Xander asked.
Willow swallowed. "No, it's pretty harmless. I'm not going to end up playing global thermonuclear war… or even crash someone's credit rating." She grinned. "I do it for the pure thrill of the chase."
"Hey, is it okay… is it okay if I sit here?" Oz appeared behind Xander, tray in hand. Buffy and Xander exchanged glances. Willow looked down at her tray.
"Sure," Buffy said. Xander pulled out a chair. Oz eased in. "So," the Slayer continued, "how was your break?"
"Mostly positive," Oz said. "Three shows, two good, one terrible."
"The band was not terrible." Xander held up a hand. "The crowd, the crowd was terrible. The band was good."
"Are you, like, their head groupie now?" Buffy said, grinning.
"What? No." Xander shrugged."I–"
The intercom screeched into life. "Teachers, would you dismiss the following students to attend a meeting of the prom committee in Ms. Rooney's room…" A list of names followed; a half-dozen people got up and made their way out of the lunchroom.
"Is that it? Is that the whole list?" Xander said.
"It seemed pretty thorough to me," Buffy said.
"Oh, no." Willow looked up from her tray and scanned the room. "This is bad. This is very bad."
"Really?" Buffy looked around the table. "What am I missing?"
"That's the thing," Xander said. "There's a name missing." He turned his head and the group's eyes followed to a figure sitting on the far side of the cafeteria.
"Are you guys serious?" Buffy "So, Cordy's not on the prom committee."
"But prom committee's been Cordelia's birthright since, like, fourth grade." Willow shook her head. "This is very not good."
"It's true," Xander said. "In sixth grade, she gave an entire presentation in Ms. Bunch's class."
"I heard about that," Oz said. "Weren't Backstreet Boys going to play?"
"Yeah, and the theme was 'Up Where We Belong'."
Buffy looked highly skeptical. "In sixth grade?"
Willow nodded. "Cordelia was nothing if not intense."
"And did you notice whose name was on the committee?" Xander's head nodded.
"Ewww, you're right." Buffy bit her lip. "Harmony."
"Do y'think the pressure's just gonna build up over there until she explodes?" Xander mused.
"Well, if you think it'll be that bad, maybe we should leave before it's just brains and blood on the walls," Buffy said as she stood up. The other three rose as well.
"You just got here," Willow said to Oz.
"It's okay." He shrugged. "I'm finished."
"Was that the most uncomfortable walk down the hall ever?" Xander said. He and the Slayer were beside the drinking fountain in the west hallway; Oz and Willow had just left the company, headed in different directions.
Buffy shrugged, her mouth pulled into a moue. "There was a definite sense of chilliness, but I think that's to be expected."
"I just don't get it. Why the tense? It's not like Oz…" Xander swallowed hard.
"Cheated?" The Slayer cocked an eyebrow.
"Something like that," Xander mumbled.
"Exactly like that." Buffy took a quick drink from the fountain, then headed down the hall. Xander hurried to catch up. "Willow gave Oz her heart. The only other guy she ever did that to basically ignored her until he ended up playing tonsil hockey with her sworn enemy." She side-eyed Xander. "Oh, and the evil internet Moloch, can't forget that. Will's been ignored, a lot, by people who should know better."
"Okay, so I'm a jerk when I don't have feelings for Willow, I'm a jerk when I do have feelings for Cordelia. Let me stand still so you can twist the knife with a little more gusto."
"But Oz is… different. He appreciates her, at least she thought he did. To decide to bail on their college plans to tour with Dingoes… yeah, to you and me, it's no big deal, but it is to Willow. It's like, she gave Oz everything, and she thought he'd done the same thing, but now, it turns out he was holding something back."
Xander shook his head. "Wow. Now I think he's a cad."
"He's not a cad." Buffy poked him with a forefinger. "You are a cad. This is… a bump in the road. They'll figure it out."
"Point of order, I don't think it's accurate to refer to me as a cad." Xander spread his arms. "I'm dirt, but I'm not filth."
Buffy stopped and twirled to face him. "You're right. What you did was bad… but I gave my heart to a guy who tried to murder us and end the world… so if Oz is at one end and Angelus is the other… you're sort of in the middle.'
"Yeah, but I think I'm in the middle, shading toward Oz, right? Right?" He ran down the hallway after her. "Right? Hey, c'mon, Buffy."
