"That makes me Blessed." Oz looked across the game board at Xander. "Your turn."

"Yeah." As Xander picked up the dice, the phone rang. Both boys looked at the phone. It rang again.

"Should we… get that?" Oz asked.

"What? Uh…" Xander furrowed his brow. The phone started to ring again but was cut off in the middle. A muffled conversation could be heard from another room.

"I guess your mom got it." Oz gestured at the dice in Xander's hand. "You gonna?"

"I, uh, I'm not sure." Xander looked at the board. His eyes didn't seem terribly focused.

"Are you Oz?" Jessica Harris stuck her head around the corner.

Oz looked around the room, then back at her. "Yeah."

"The phone's for you. You can pick it up in here."

"Thanks," Oz said, but she was already gone. He went to the phone and lifted the receiver ffom the cradle. He opened his mouth, but stopped when Xander raised his hand.

"Mom, hang up."

Oz heard a click. Xander gave him a distracted thumb up. Oz kept an eye on him as he spoke.

"Yeah, it's me." He listened. "Playing Arkham Horror. What? No. Hard to say. Not really. Sure. You need- I can do that. Be careful." He hung up.

"Anything important?" Xander stared at the board, his head tilted slightly to one side.

"Willow. She's doing research, Giles and Buffy are going out later to fight some kind of giant maggot monster."

"So, it's a day ending in 'Y'."

"I haven't found anything." Willow closed the book and pushed it away from her in frustration.

"So, a big jack squat for what's causing the rain." Buffy boosted herself onto the library counter. "Any luck on the whatevers, Giles?"

"No." The librarian rested his head in his hand. His fingers kneaded his forehead. "Although the more we find nothing, the more I'm being brought 'round to Willow's thesis. There's simply no way for us to possess no information if this has previously occurred. Therefore-"

"Insert eye roll here," Buffy said dryly.

"-therefore, it stands to reason that this has either never happened before, which seems unlikely, or it happened in a time or place where no records were kept."

"So we got a bagel," Willow muttered.

"What?" GIles said.

"A bagel." Willow glanced from Giles to Buffy. "You know, round, with a hole in it, a zero?"

"Well." Buffy jumped down from the counter. "We learn by doing. We'll know more after tonight."

"Do we have any sort of plan other than direct assault?" Giles asked.

Buffy shrugged. "I stick to what I'm good at. Besides, they don't seem fast, and there aren't any arms or legs or tentacles, at least that I could see." She scrunched up her face. "I think I'll need something besides stakes."

Giles nodded. "Let me look in the armory." He stood up, stretched, and went into the office.

Willow looked over her shoulder, then leaned toward Buffy. "Have you thought about asking Angel for help?"

Buffy sighed. "I did, but it's a bad idea. The vamps I killed last night were really messed up by whatever's in the rain."

Willow considered this. "But Angel's got a soul. That might help."

"Or it might make it worse," Buffy pointed out. "I'm worried enough about Giles. I don't need to worry about Angel on top of that, plus, I really don't want those two in the same space."

Willow's eyes widened. "Oh, that's right, and with the rain…"

"Uh-huh." The Slayer balled her fists together, then pushed them apart, fingers extending, as she made an exploding sound.

Willow grimaced. "Good point."

Buffy glanced at the office door. "I gotta run to the bathroom. Be right back."

Willow headed toward the office. She almost ran headlong into the Watcher, who was laden with armaments. Willow's eyes widened.

"Giles," she hissed, "what are you thinking?"

Flustered, Giles stammered, "What? I-I don't… wh-"

Willow pointed. "A sword? You brought out a sword?"

"Well, yes, I thought edged weapons might- Oh." Giles's eyes widened. "Yes, yes, you're quite right." He made a quick turn, almost dropping the load of arms.

The library door opened, followed by Buffy's voice. "Where did you guys go?"

"I'm in the office," Willow said. "Helping Giles with the weapons." The Watcher reappeared, holding, among other items, an axe. Willow gave him a quick thumbs-up as she ushered him through the door.

"Hey." Buffy whirled to face them. "What do you- Hey, Lizzie!" She picked up the battle axe and hefted it in one hand. "Wow, I haven't seen you in forever." She twirled the axe, flipped it, caught it, and balanced it on her index finger, blade up. She flipped it again; the head rested on her index and middle finger.

"Lizzie?" Giles asked, glancing at Willow.

Willow watched the Slayer handle the axe. "Borden. You know, 'took an axe and…" She shrugged.

Giles touched the hinge of his glasses. "Oh. Well, at least it's nothing morbid."

Buffy rested the axe on her shoulder. "What else you got?"

Giles gestured at the assortment on the counter. "Crossbow, knives, cudgels."

Buffy blew out her breath and frowned. "I'm not sure how well any of those will work. I mean, the knives cut, but they're small." They all stared at the arsenal, thinking.

"Oh." Willow looked up, a grin spreading over her face. "I'm having an idea. Giles, can you get us in the chem lab?"

"I-I think so," he stammered.

"Then I've got a full-blown inspiration. Let's go." She raced out of the library, leaving Buffy and Giles in her wake.

"Do I ever do that?" the Slayer asked.

"What, rush off without telling me what's going on?" Giles looked down the hallway. "All the time."

The doors of the Citroen slammed and three drenched individuals did their best to get comfortable. Giles stuck the key in the ignition and cranked the engine.

"You've got the gloves?" Willow asked.

"Yes," Giles said, working the choke and turning the key again. The engine sputtered, coughed, then caught.

"Remember, don't get any of it on you, although…" Willow looked out the window at the torrent pinging off the gray car's sheet metal, "this probably would dilute it. Still, better safe than sorry. Make sure you're close to the whatevers when you-"

"Yes." Giles looked over his shoulder as he put the gearbox in reverse. The Citroen shuddered as it made its slow recess through the flooded parking lot.

"And the nozzle will degrade, so be careful about spraying, and when it quits working, it's done. Don't try to unclog it. It won't work. It's probably melted."

"Willow, please stop throwing instructions at me. I won't be able to remember them all anyway." The tendons stood out on Giles's neck.

Buffy looked up from wringing water out of her hair. "Not so much fun when the teacher becomes the teachee, is it?"

Giles shot a look at the rearview mirror. "Student. The word 'teachee' doesn't exist."

"Says you." Buffy turned to her redheaded friend. "Walk me through this again."

"Remember when you said something about throwing salt on giant slugs?" Willow's voice was barely louder than the rain pounding on the ancient automobile's roof. "It hit me in the library. Muriatic acid. Muriatic means salt or brine. It's a corrosive, so I think that a pretty strong solution will burn the whatevers." She bit her lip. "If they can be burned."

"Well, we'll find out about that." The Slayer leaned forward over the seat. "So, you call Oz and check in on Xander. After we get rid of the critters, we'll swing by Ms. Hollis's, pick you up, and take you home or to Xander's house. Right?"

Willow nodded once. "Right." They rode in silence the rest of the way to Matti Hollis's house, the thumping of the rain the only sound.

Giles slewed the car into the driveway, a rooster tail of water spewing from the wheels. Willow jumped out of the car, then turned back, leaning through the opening.

"Be careful." Water bounced off her raincoat and sprayed into the car.

Buffy winked. "Always, mom."

Willow flashed a quick grin, slammed the door, and sprinted to the porch, gouts of water splashing up from her footfalls. The door opened; Buffy and Giles saw Matti Hollis framed in the light.

"Let's go," Buffy said. "That sprayer is gunking up as we speak."

Willow hung her raincoat on the stand and watched fat drops of water plunk onto the tile, then slid her boots off her feet. She turned, aware of the heaviness of awkward silence.

"So," Matti said, getting up from the chair, "would you like a soda, bottle of water, anything?"

"W-Water is always nice," Willow stammered. Matti nodded, then went into the kitchen. Willow hurried to the sofa and sat down. She glanced around the room and took in the neutral-colored, squared-off sofa and armchair, the scarred wooden rocker, the dark rug in the middle of the hardwood floor, the two torchiere lamps that cast a warm glow, and the small TV in the corner. She clenched her fists in her lap.

"Are you okay?"

Willow jumped as Matti leaned down, a bottle of water in her extended hand. The teenager took the offered drink with a slightly trembling hand. "I'm fine."

Matti sat down in the rocking chair and twisted the cap off her bottle. "You look a little green around the gills."

"Well, it's just, I don't know you, I mean, I know you from school, but I don't really know you and then I find out you're a, a… what?"

"Chevalier du Croix."

Willow took a quick sip of water and nodded. "Yeah, that thing. It's a lot to take in."

Matti studied her. "Are you really nervous?"

Willow nodded. "A little."

"Let me make sure I'm understanding you. You have, today, discovered the bodies of your friend's parents-"

Willow's nose wrinkled. "I don't think Cordelia would exactly want you to call us friends."

"I'll make a note. You went to the library, planned an attack on some sort of God only knows what creature, but you're nervous sitting here in my living room."

"Well, that's different." Willow began to pick at the label on the water bottle.

"How so? Enlighten me." Matti leaned forward, elbows on knees, and Willow was uncomfortably aware of the teacher's size.

"The… the first thing, that was, that… that just was. The other, that's a problem to be solved." A small smile twitched the corner of Willow's mouth. "I'm pretty good at problem solving, at least certain problems."

"And now?" Matti leaned back, to Willow's relief.

Willow took another sip of water. "I'm not really at ease in social situations." A fragment of the bottle's label drifted to the floor.

Matti laughed, not an ironic chuckle, but an honest-to-goodness, full-throated laugh that caused Willow to jump. "Willow Rosenberg, you are truly a piece of work."

"Thank you?"

Matti took a long swig from her water. "Well, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, so let's talk shop. I know about you guys. Anything you'd like to know about me? Within reason."

Willow looked up at the ceiling. "Is it within reason if I ask what Giles meant when he said there were lots of groups like the Watchers?"

Matti smiled. "And if I say no, you'll just look it up on the internet, am I right?"

Willow ducked her head. "Probably. Yeah."

"Well, hell, at this point, why not? Ask away."

"Just how many organizations are there?"

Mattie shrugged. "Nobody knows. There's a ton, that's for sure, but most of them are less than a hundred people. There might be fifty just in the Indian subcontinent."

"Whoa." Willow blinked. "Are they all independent?"

Matti nodded. "Very much so. It makes a certain sort of sense if you think about it. Monsters in Nepal aren't the same as the monsters in, say, Chile. Polynesia has different concerns than, I don't know, Belorussia."

"Are the Watchers really the biggest?'

Matti made a 'tsk' sound. "Well, let's say that the Watchers are one of a handful that have a global presence, plus they're better organized than most. Bookkeeping and British efficiency, say wot."

Willow snickered at the teacher's terrible English accent. "So what about the… can I just say 'Knights'?" Matti nodded. "So, what's their deal? Your deal?"

Matti tapped the water bottle on her knee. "The Chevalier du Croix can trace their history back to the twelfth century. Third Crusade, which, yeah, the Crusades sucked, but lots of like-minded folks from different traditions met each other."

Willow pursed her lips. "By 'like-minded' you mean…"

"Oh yeah. The folks who know about the things that go bump in the night. Saladin's court magicians and several of the priests who traveled with the Crusaders set up lines of communication and shared knowledge. The Crusader states provided a very convenient clearing house, even if both sides had to be pretty hush-hush." Matti took a drink. "So, we, the Knights, tend to focus on central and eastern Europe and the Middle East. We're very big in the Balkans."

"But you're American," Willow pointed out.

"'Focus', child." Matti smiled. "After all the French were in North America even before the Brits, and, in case you didn't notice, chevalier is a French word."

"So, do you have, like, a squad or something in Sunnydale?"

"No way. We're pretty thin in the Western US. Seattle, Portland... " Matti looked up as she thought "...small contingent, very small, in Denver."

"Not L.A.?"

Matti shook her head. "No. There's folks in L.A. who mind that store, and we all tend to be pretty territorial."

Willow frowned. "Then why are you in Sunnydale?"

Matti took a deep breath and stared at the bottle balanced on her knee. She rocked a few times. "I don't think that's within reason."

Willow's eyes narrowed. "You said the Knights are in the Middle East. Do you know something about Solomon's Seal?"

Matti looked directly at the girl. "I must say, I am very impressed. I can neither confirm nor deny your statement."

Willow smiled. "Understood. If everyone is so worried about turf, why are the Watchers everywhere?"

Matti sighed. "The Slayer. Their calling is to identify, train, and guide the Slayer, which gives them a global portfolio."

"One girl in all the world," Willow said.

"Yeah, when you say it like that, which the Watchers love to do, it sounds a lot more-" Matti giggled "-pretentious."

Willow snickered. "If Giles is any indicator-"

"Child, Rupert Giles is Flava Flav compared to the average Watcher."

They both laughed. Willow scooched forward on the sofa. "Are the Knights allies with the Watchers? Are they frenemies?"

Matti rolled the water bottle between her palms. "Feelings about the Watchers tend to be… extreme. Not much neutrality. A lot of people get kinda pissy, I mean, most of us are slogging it out on the ground and the Watchers, honestly, most of them aren't at risk, and their order has this super weapon. It creates some feelings."

"But you're not fighting each other."

"No, we're more like the CIA and FBI. We're on the same side, but there is a certain amount of tension. We can't avoid each other, we're connected-"

Willow's eyes shot open wide. "Wait…" Her eyes tracked back and forth as thought she was reading a text. She turned to Matti. "Do you have a computer?"

Matti arched an eyebrow. "I'm a dues-paying member of a secret society. Of course I have a computer and, yes, it is hooked up to the internet."

"Can I use it?" Willow stood up quickly.

"It's in the nook next to the dining room."

"Thanks." Willow dashed off. Matti followed, her long strides eating up the floorspace.