"This is London, huh?" Buffy asked looking around the foggy airport beyond the window. "No wonder the watchers set up vamp-slaying HQ here. Do you Brits know what the sun looks like?"
"Oh, how very drole," Giles rolled his eyes before cleaning his glasses. "I'll have you know last summer I was here we had a while three days of sunshine."
"And I bet the vamps stayed put for all three of them," Buffy nodded in approval.
"I bet it was hard for them," Dawn mused. "Y'know, it's all misty during the day then the sun comes out and they're stuck drinking nightclubbers like a filthy colonist vampire."
"I wonder if the punning's genetic," Willow laughed putting her arm around Dawn. "Screw Summers' blonde hair, I know you're Buffy's sister because of the punning."
"Best paternity test out there!" Xander declared. "DNA means nothing when we can just ask you to make jokes about horrifying demons out for our blood."
The girls and Giles sniggered. Xander's dark eyes darted around the cluster by the luggage carousel before joining in the laughter. "What?"
"Paternity is to determine the father, Xander," Willow explained.
"Oh, that's right, laugh at the dumb guy," he rolled his eyes. "But we'll see who's laughing when you and the Buffster are tens of thousands of dollars in debt with a fancy piece of paper and I already have a job, apartment and two-point-five kids." Xander's eyes fell on Dawn. "Not that school is bad! University good, book good, make Dawn not talk like Frankenstein."
"But Frankenstein's monster was eloquent," Willow said before her blue eyes grew twice there regular size. "Never mind."
"Remind me again," Giles sighed. "Why I brought all of you with me?"
"Miss the Giles's defence tribunal!" Willow gasped. "Not a chance."
"I for one can't wait to get my hands on Travers," Buffy scowled. "After that stint this January I swear I'll-" she looked at Dawn and engaged in some backpeddling herself. "Give him a stern talking to. No one messes with my family."
"Is it true that the legal drinking age in England is sixteen?" Dawn asked, beaming.
"Asks the girl who just turned fourteen in May," Buffy raised a challenging eyebrow.
"It's a myth anyway, Dawn," Giles said. "The legal drinking age is eighteen-" Giles clapped a hand to his forehead realising he was surrounded by nineteen-year-olds not allowed to drink in their own country. "Oh for god's sake, don't do anything stupid."
Buffy smirked remembering all her wonderful fun with alcohol back in September and Willow's less than Willowish sorrow-drowning. The two girls exchanged a knowing smile, though Xander seemed to be considering his odds of avoiding an angry barman hell-bent on making rowdy uni students go B.C.E. Buffy jabbed an elbow in her much taller friend's ribs to indicate Dawn-who now matched Buffy in height, which was just not fair.
"Beer bad, Dawnie," he said. "Beer bad, school good and Frankenstein apparently more eloquent than Xander."
Dawn burst into laughter, Buffy judged it to be half-fueled by Xander's humour and half-fueled by the passion that can only be found by a teenaged girl with a crush.
"Giles, Giles, Giles," Buffy beamed from his arm. "Have you ever know us to do anything stupid?"
"Many times, yes," he answered. "I suppose I'll have to claim the rooms the council booked for us."
"Sounds good," Buffy said taking the bags she and Dawn frantically packed. "We might be here a while."
"Yes, you've got a bit of luggage, don't you?" he said. "We'll only be here for two months."
"The Bufster needs something to kill the vamps with," Xander appealed. "Grumpy old British man."
"And shoes to match my outfits!" Buffy smiled.
"Yes," he sighed, achieving a level of exasperation Buffy had only ever known Giles and her mother to reach. "I imagine whatever harbinger of doom the signs pointed to will quake in fear at your well appointed ensemble."
"Hey," Buffy smirked. "Slayers don't pack light."
