A/N: Just wanted to let everyone know that I will soon be changing the rating of this story to 'M' and uploading the alternative version of the last chapter. Based on the reader comments, almost everyone read that one anyway. So, it will make my life much easier in the future to only have to deal with one version. FYI: If you're lazy like me, you might miss those stories because you actually have to click on the ratings drop down at the top to display them. So if this story seems to dissapear from the normal story listing that's why. Of course, I may be the only person on here that is that pathetically lazy.

The chapter title is a song by the Jimi Hendrix Experience from the album Are You Experienced (1967).

As always, I hope you enjoy. Reviews are very much appreciated.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I need to go get Sam," Dean announced as he laid his phone down on the table of the diner booth he was sharing with Buffy. "If you want, I can drop you off at your Headquarters and meet you back there later. That way, you can fill us both in on the big news."

"What about Faith?" she asked curiously. "Isn't she with him?"

"Apparently, she ditched out on him before he woke up," he replied with raised eyebrows.

"But that was her hotel room. Don't you think that's kind of strange?"

"Don't ask me," he replied, stuffing a last bite of sausage into his mouth. "She's your friend. You gonna finish that?" he asked, pointing to a slice of bacon on Buffy's otherwise empty plate. When she pushed the plate away from her, he took that as a 'no' and crammed the bacon in his mouth as well. "Man, I love places that serve breakfast all day," he rejoiced happily, his voice muffled due to his mouth being full.

Buffy shook her head at Dean's lack of table manners and took another sip of her coffee. "Faith is the love 'em and leave 'em type," she remarked thoughtfully, "but this seems weird - even for her. I mean, I wouldn't expect her to leave her own place. Kick him out, maybe… " She paused, a troubled expression crossing her features. "I'm sorry Dean, I should've thought."

"Thought about what?" he asked with a laugh. "I'm proud of Sam. He finally got used for that freakishly huge body of his. He can wear big boy pants now. Who knows, maybe she's disappointed because he got stage fright?" he added with a mischievous grin.

"Be nice," Buffy urged, trying her best not to look amused. "That's a terrible way to wake up. Poor Sam."

"Oh, he'll be fine," he replied with a wave of his hand. "It's different for guys. Every man dreams of being used and abused by a super-hot chick. He just lived the perfect Penthouse Forum experience."

Buffy turned a disappointed frown on her companion. "Seriously? So, you're basically telling me that you would've preferred to wake up to an empty bed this morning?"

"Hell no!" he exclaimed strongly, immediately looking a little embarrassed by his stringent denial. "That's a different situation," he added, attempting to sound nonchalant.

Buffy smiled inwardly as she watched Dean quickly turn his attention to reading the warning on a packet of Sweet-n-Low, apparently with great interest.

"This crap should be illegal," he remarked as he tossed the packet onto the table top and grabbed the check. "So, you about ready to get outta here?" he asked, turning his most innocent boyish grin on Buffy, obviously hoping to persuade her into believing he wasn't a total pig.

"I'm ready," she agreed, with a smirk.

XXXXXXXXXX

Dean pulled into the parking lot of Faith's hotel, where he spotted his brother standing out front, shooting the breeze with a bellhop. Sam looked up when he heard the distinct rumbling sound of the Impala's engine. He quickly said goodbye to the guy he was talking to and headed toward the car.

"Walk of shame, huh Sammy?" Dean asked as his unshaven, rumpled looking brother slid into the passenger's seat. "Well, at least you're doing it in style. This place sure beats the no-tell-motel."

His brother just shook his head and pulled down the visor, hoping to keep the sun out of his tired eyes.

"So what happened? Weren't too kinky for her were ya? Gotta say that would be a shocker. I had that chick pegged for a super freak."

"Well," Sam began hesitantly, "let's just say she's extremely athletic… and uh… imaginative. I thought we hit it off pretty well actually. This whole thing's kinda weird. I must've done something to offend her… Just don't know what."

"Failure to launch?" Dean asked, trying to sound serious when he was obviously highly amused. "They have medicine for that these days. I wouldn't know anything about it myself, but I saw the commercial with the old people in the hot tub. We could make you an appointment."

"Hilarious," Sam replied dryly. "Anyway, how did your night go? You seem to be in an awfully good mood."

Dean smiled happily before replying, "A gentleman never talks."

"And what exactly does that have to do with you?"

"Oh, eat me."

Sam laughed. "Sorry Dean, with smooth language like yours, how could I ever doubt your credentials?"

Dean just shrugged and kept driving. It was kind of hard to argue with that logic.

Once he'd determined that his brother really wasn't going to spill any details about his night with Buffy, Sam decided to change the subject to his desperate need for a shower.

"I don't suppose you've had time to find us a room yet?" he asked. "I could really use a shower and a change of clothes."

"No, but I was thinking maybe we'd stay someplace a little less skeevy this time. I passed a Days Inn on the way over here," he offered, obviously looking for Sam's opinion.

"Works for me," he stated simply.

Sam decided not to tease his brother about the obvious reason for this step-up from their usual sleazy, just barely above by-the-hour accommodations. The Days Inn sure as hell wouldn't be anything like the fancy place Faith was staying at, but he was reasonably sure that the towels would be fresh and the sheets would be washed. There was no use risking this improvement by taking a crack at Dean. He had a feeling he was going to get plenty of opportunities for that anyway. As it turned out, he only had to wait about two minutes.

"Hey Sam, you ever try that turkey sausage?" his brother asked, seemingly out of the blue. "Is it really as gross as it sounds?"

"It's not bad," he replied, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "You kinda have to get used to it. Guess you could say it's an acquired taste. Why? Are you actually worried about cholesterol?"

"Is that a crime?" Dean replied defensively.

"No, but it does make me wonder if you're having your own 'performance issues'. Are you afraid you can't keep up with Buffy?" he prodded, barely keeping himself from laughing. "I guess it would suck for her if you got hit by the widow-maker before you even got the chance to put a ring on her finger. Have you thought about making the switch to tofu burgers?"

"Eat me, Sam."

"You're slipping Dean. You already used that insult less than five minutes ago. I think this girl has you distracted, cause I'm running circles around you."

"Right, like that would ever happen. Let's see…how about you shut up - bitch. Pretty sure I haven't used that today," he added with a satisfied smirk.

"No - jerk. Not today," Sam replied happily (torturing his brother was just too much fun). "Very original too. I can tell you put a lot of thought into it."

XXXXXXXXXX

Giles was on the phone when Buffy poked her head into his office. From her end, it sounded like he was on an international call, because he seemed flustered by his attempts to overcome some sort of language barrier. She pointed to her left and mouthed the words 'break room', to which he wearily nodded his acknowledgement. He looked like he'd had even less sleep than usual, which likely meant he'd gotten none at all. The clothes he had on looked suspiciously like the same ones he'd worn yesterday. She felt a twinge of guilt, seeing as how she'd just gotten the best night's sleep she'd had in forever. All night research sessions were never a good thing. Whatever news Giles had for her, she doubted it was of the nice and fluffy variety.

Since it was Saturday afternoon, she expected to find the break room empty. She figured she'd duck in there, grab a Diet Coke, and read the paper while she waited for Giles to finish with his call. Instead, she found Faith sitting at the table, having already claimed the paper. Her hair looked a little damp, leaving Buffy to suspect that she'd just taken a shower in the girls' dormitory.

"Hey B," she greeted, without really looking up from the paper. "Did you hear Giles has all the girls on full lockdown? They're not even allowed out on the grounds. It's a major bitch-fest over in the dorms. I'd steer clear if I were you."

Buffy was definitely surprised by this piece of news. "No kidding? That must be why he asked me to come in. Do you know what the story is?"

"No," Faith shrugged. "Haven't heard yet. He's been on the phone for freakin' ever. I think he's locking down all the mini-Slayers, even the ones in Asia and crazy, far-away places like that."

"Hmm… guess that explains why he's having a lost in translation moment in there."

"Yeah, it's somethin' big. I'm sure Willow knows what's up, but she bailed before I got here. Think she went home to grab a shower and a change of clothes. Anyway, she should be back soon. If Giles doesn't get off the phone by then, she'll give us the lowdown. "

"Guess we'll just have to wait then," Buffy replied, taking a seat at the break table. She looked over at Faith, who appeared to be studiously reading an article about unemployment and its effect on the stock market. Not exactly a subject she would expect her to have much interest in.

"So, how'd it go with Sam last night?" she asked curiously.

Faith looked momentarily taken aback by the question, but quickly regained her usual nonchalant posture. "It was fun," she stated simply. "Why? Did he say somethin'?" she asked, her tone a bit suspicious.

"I haven't talked to him," Buffy replied, observing Faith curiously. "He called Dean to come and pick him up a little while ago. Both of them should be getting here fairly soon."

"That's cool," Faith remarked casually, her face still buried in the paper.

Faith was definitely acting strange. As far as Buffy could remember, the girl had never missed an opportunity to dish about one of her conquests. In fact, she usually provided way more down and dirty detail than she wanted to hear. She couldn't imagine that Sam had tried anything offensive. Honestly, she wasn't sure Faith could be offended in that way. The secret gossip-girl inside of her was dying to grill Dean about what his brother had told him on the subject – just as soon as they'd dealt with this pesky new Slayer emergency.

XXXXXXXXXX

After fifteen extremely dull minutes spent watching Faith pretend to read every single article in the business section of the paper, Buffy was relieved to see Xander entering the room.

"Hey," she greeted, giving her friend's arm a concerned squeeze as he sat down beside her. "Is everything good with you and Allie now?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're fine," he replied distractedly, reaching across the table to snatch the Sports section of the newspaper from the pile Faith had in front of her.

"Sorry about all that Xan," Faith remarked, sounding rather uncomfortable (apologies weren't exactly her strong suite). "I didn't mean to, ya know, mess anything up."

"It's all good," he replied politely, not looking up from the baseball stats he was apparently busy memorizing. "No worries."

Buffy decided that Faith wasn't the only friend of hers behaving strangely today. Xander was definitely not his usual jokey, talky self. Instead, he was jumpy and pale, acting like someone who'd seen a ghost. Apparently the entire balance of the universe was thrown off if she managed to have a good night. She may as well just join the crowd and pretend to be fascinated by the literary marvel that is the Cleveland Sun Times. Lucky for her, the obit section was up for grabs; that should take her a few hours to get through.

She'd barely started on the B's when Giles entered the room accompanied by Willow, Vi, and Rona. Willow smiled brightly at Buffy, silently questioning her about the events of the night before. She returned her smile and nodded slightly in reply.

"So where's Andrew?" Xander asked suspiciously. "If we all had to come in on a Saturday, I don't see why he doesn't have to suffer."

"Believe me, he'll be here," Willow replied. "He's beyond giddy about the girls being incarcerated." She emphasized the last word loudly, apparently for Giles' benefit.

"No one is incarcerated," he remarked in an irritated tone.

"Anyway," she continued after rolling her eyes at the Watcher. "Andrew has declared himself the official entertainment… the emcee of the new Cleveland branch of the USO. He's gathered his limited edition Star Wars DVDs and now he's out on a snack run. He said something about buying a footbath and a karaoke machine too. He's pulling out all the stops."

"Impressive," Xander remarked.

"So what's the scoop?" Vi asked as she pulled out a chair from the table. "I think those girls are going to riot if we don't tell them something soon. No offense to Andrew, but I don't think Star Wars and popcorn is gonna cut it."

"No doubt," Rona agreed. "Carrie has a hot date tonight and she's acting the bitch even more than usual."

"I suspect Carrie will be one that will not have to remain confined for much longer," Giles replied, causing everyone but Willow to turn a questioning gaze upon him. Instead, she glared at him with a sour expression on her face. He started to elaborate, but was interrupted when Buffy's phone began ringing.

"It's Dean," she beamed happily before pressing the answer button and stepping across the room for some privacy. She returned to the table a moment later.

"I'm going to meet him and Sam out front. Be back a minute," she announced before practically bouncing out of the room.

"Are you guys sure that's the real Buffy?" Rona asked curiously. "I've never seen her that excited about anything."

"She's real," Willow confirmed, "You've just never seen that version before. She's kinda been stuffed in the back of a closet for a few years."

"At least five," Xander added.

XXXXXXXXXX

When she returned with the Winchesters, Buffy found that she'd lost her spot at the small table. Everyone but Giles was now sitting. She introduced the guys to Rona and Vi, telling them they were the demon hunters who'd made them aware of the situation with The Mother of All/Eve. The two girls offered their hands for the brothers to shake. Vi explained that they were the live-in 'den mothers' for the Slayer school. While this was going on, Faith appeared to be trying to melt into the background. She seemed extremely uncomfortable now that Sam had arrived. She flashed him an awkward peace sign before quickly turning her attention to Willow who was now sitting beside her.

Since there was no more room at the table, the three stood against the counter of the small kitchen that made up a part of the room. Dean leaned back, one boot propped against the cabinet door and an arm crooked casually on the counter behind him, playing absently with the end of Buffy's long braid. It was obvious to anyone watching that the two were more than just professional acquaintances.

Giles, who was standing at the front of the room holding a very ancient looking book, cleared his throat loudly in an effort to call the room back to attention.

"I'm sure you're all curious to learn why I called you in," he began. "It seems that we were able to find some information regarding Eve and naturally the news is not encouraging. Late last night - or rather, very early this morning - I stumbled upon a passage in this book on Slayer lore. Honestly, I was so exhausted I believed I had picked up the Treatise of R'lyeh… but that's neither here nor there," he added with a wave of his hand. "The important thing is the bit of prophecy I've uncovered." He opened the book he was holding to a page he had bookmarked and began to read.

"And in these days, Eve shall find the chosen one who has not yet known the touch of man. Upon her possession of the pure vessel, her power shall be that of legions. Her descendants shall rise and take their places at her side, the waters shall run red with the blood of God's children, both the righteous and the wicked shall fall…" Giles paused, removing his glasses to rub at his bloodshot eyes. "It goes on and on," he continued tiredly. "The usual apocalyptic prattle. Honestly, I sometimes wonder if all of these creatures don't employ the same ghost writer."

"Now that would be one hell of a gig," Xander commented jokingly (it seemed the news of impending doom had brought him back to himself). "Talk about job security. There must be millions of those wacko prophecies out there just waiting to be written and it sounds like you can get by on cutting and pasting. You could raise a family on that kind of income."

"So," Buffy began haltingly, "this 'pure vessel' thingie… are we talking about a… uh, virgin? Do you think Eve wants to possess a Slayer who's… inexperienced?"

Giles nodded. "That seems to be the obvious conclusion, which is why I have temporarily confined all of the girls to quarters - both here and internationally. Until we can find some method of…" he paused, looking distinctly uncomfortable with the topic. "Some method of sorting them," he continued. "Until that time, we need to ensure that all of the young Slayers are kept safely out of her reach. At the moment, we have no way of knowing where Eve may be conducting her search."

"Well, I'm pretty damn sure she's looking here," Dean remarked confidently. "It's actually freakin' obvious," he gritted out, sounding frustrated with himself. "I should've seen it."

"What do you mean?" Giles asked. Buffy and Sam also turned questioning gazes on him.

"In the last couple of weeks, three girls have disappeared here in Cleveland. All around sixteen, seventeen-years-old and according to the paper, all 'churchy types'. Didn't think much of it at the time, but now I'd be willing to bet my left nut that all the disappearances happened within blocks of this place. The bitch is circling her prey."

Buffy didn't stop to consider the significance of this revelation; she was more interested in how he knew about those disappearances in the first place. Had he been keeping tabs on the Hellmouth? Did that mean he had thought about her over these past few months? She was starting to see that what Dean did was way more informative than anything he might say.

"I'm sorry," Giles began, "but I'm not sure I see the relevance of this information. Many young ladies disappear on the Hellmouth. That's not an unusual occurrence, unfortunately."

"That's not all," Dean said as he walked over to the break table and scooped up the pile of newspapers. He rifled through them for a moment until he found what he was looking for and then held up the article for everyone to see.

Police Still Searching for So-Called 'Flaming Bandits'

"I noticed this stuff started-up a few weeks ago too," Dean explained. "Somebody's been knocking over pawn shops all over town. Funny thing is, whoever's behind it doesn't bother taking the guns or the high-end electronic equipment. They don't even try to crack the safe… Only thing they give a crap about is the gold and when they're done, they torch the place."

Everyone except Giles and Sam look very perplexed by this additional information.

"Let me guess," Xander said. "It's a leprechaun with some pervy thing for underage girls? Ye can't have me gold or me Lucky Charms," he added in a bad imitation of an Irish accent.

"You think?" Sam asked his brother, ignoring Xander's joking around. "No way. Dude, how many of those things can there be?"

"Can somebody fill us in?" Faith asked impatiently.

Giles rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I believe that Dean is – very colorfully - trying to tell us that we have a dragon in Cleveland. However," he added with a smile, "fortunately for us, that is quite unlikely. No one has seen an actual dragon in this dimension in over seven centuries."

Sam held his hand up. "Uh, that's not exactly true. We saw one about six months ago."

Giles almost dropped the book he was holding and had to fumble clumsily to keep his grip on it. He seemed very disturbed and astonished by this piece of news; he started to ask for more information, but was cut off by Buffy.

"I'm completely lost," she admitted. "What does a dragon have to do with somebody robbing pawn shops… or virgins… or with anything really? I mean a dragon… seriously? Do I need to keep an eye out for Hobbits when I'm on patrol too? Sorry," she added, offering Dean an apologetic shrug. "That's just majorly weird… even for the Cleveland."

"Traditionally," Giles explained, jumping in before Dean could reply. "Dragons are known to abduct virgins and to harbor an obsession for hoarding gold. One would be perfectly suited to aiding Eve in her search."

Dean nodded. "And believe me, they know if a chick's been de-hymenated. It takes more than a promise ring to fool one of those bastards."

Willow frowned at this observation. "That's just rude," she snapped.

"What?" Dean asked defensively. "It's true. I'm just sayin'"

"Well you could be more respectful," Willow grumbled.

"Setting the matter of taste aside," Giles began, "he does bring up a very valid point. If Eve is employing a dragon to find her vessel, we must be doubly sure that we know which of the girls is and is not…" he paused, searching for a word. "Let's say - intact."

"Intact?" Willow exploded. "Well, that's it. I'm not going to sit here any longer and pretend that this whole business of who is and who's not a virgin isn't just completely gross and inappropriate. We've been over this Giles and you know how I feel. Intact? Seriously? You're actually going to use that word? So, I guess if a girl has a little experience then she's not whole, she's broken or something. I can't believe you! For the entire span of human history, societies have used the concept of virginity to oppress women… a-and you honestly have the nerve to ask me if I can do some kind of spell to separate the pure ones from the whores?" she stammered in fury. "I guess the idea of just asking the girls is entirely out of the question. We all know the word of a potential whore isn't reliable. Well, I told you earlier and I stand by my conviction – No way in hell!"

Giles' face had turned red with frustration. "For heaven's sake, Willow," he groaned impatiently. "No one here is calling anyone a whore. I don't know why you refuse to listen to reason. We've been over this again and again. Many teenagers - both male and female - tend to be untruthful about their level of sexual experience. You know this! We simply cannot afford to take any chances where this issue is concerned. If Eve gets her hand on the proper vessel, it could very well be the end for all of us… whores included," he added in a tone of biting sarcasm.

Willow stood up and narrowed her eyes on Giles. She looked like she was seriously considering turning him into a toad. "Y-You…"

"Whoa," Buffy said, stepping between the pair. "Take it down a notch, you two. This conversation is getting way too fighty. How long has it been since either of you have had any sleep?"

"Almost exactly thirty-two hours," Giles replied. "I've begun keeping track."

Willow grudgingly nodded her agreement, still angrily glaring at the man.

"That means both of you left the land of reason at least twelve hours ago," Buffy stated firmly. "You need to go home, get some sleep, and we'll take care of things here. I don't want to see either of you in this building for at least eight hours. If we have to, we'll just keep all the girls in for tonight. We can revisit this extremely disturbing 'sorting' question tomorrow. Until then, nothing - no matter how big and scaly - is getting past all the protective charms Will's put on this place."

Dean grinned at Buffy in admiration. "I like it when you take charge," he said. "Very hot."

"It's not that simple Buffy," Giles disagreed, touching her on the arm to draw her attention away from the hunter for a moment. "There's another very urgent matter to address. We don't have a proper weapon. If we are indeed dealing with a dragon, we must use a sword that was forged with dragon's blood. We could try the scythe, but I don't believe it will be effective."

"Well, that's a classic catch-22," she commented dryly.

Giles sighed. "Yes it is. Such weapons are incredibly difficult to obtain. There are maybe five left in the entire world. I need to get in touch with some of my European contacts immediately. The Council used to possess Excalibur," he added bitterly, "but unfortunately that was incinerated along with practically everything else the Council possessed."

"Keep your pants on Simon Cowell," Dean interrupted smugly. "I have one in the trunk of my car."

Giles gazed at the hunter with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "You're telling me that you're carrying around a priceless dragon sword in the boot of that ancient vehicle of yours?"

"She's not ancient," he declared gruffly. "She happens to be a classic example of fine Detroit steel. You English guys are just jealous because you have to drive around in sissy little wind-up toys."

"Give me the keys," Sam said, shaking his head at his brother. "I'll go get the sword."

XXXXXXXXXX

A few minutes later, Sam re-entered the room carrying the sword, which was wrapped in what appeared to be several shop towels. He set the bundle down on the table where everyone gathered around to stare at it expectantly.

"I say. This is rather exciting," Giles commented. "I feel as if we should have an orchestra playing for the unveiling." He leaned in closer to examine the wrappings. "Is that axle grease?" he asked incredulously.

"Probably," Sam shrugged as he unceremoniously pulled off the rags to reveal the jagged remains of the sword.

"Where's the rest of it?" Rona asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room.

"Who knows?" Dean replied evasively. "That thing's at least a zillion years old. Stuff gets broken over the years."

Giles, who looked like he was very close to being sick, gingerly picked up the sword and began examining the markings on the hilt. "This is… or I should say was the actual Sword of Brunswick," he announced mournfully. He looked up from the weapon and gazed at the Winchesters with fury in his eyes. "You bloody prats blasted it out of its enchanted stone!" he spat accusingly.

"Why the hell would you try to pin that on us?" Dean asked, attempting to sound genuinely insulted.

"Yeah right," Sam laughed sarcastically, "the sword in the stone. Hilarious. Stuff like that only happens in fairy tales. Hold on a minute…" he said, easily recognizing Dean's 'avoidance face'. He gaped at his brother in amazement. "Dude, you didn't? Did you?"

"I had to," Dean defended. "That son of a bitch was really stuck. There was no other way to get it out of that stupid-ass rock."

Giles appeared to be on the verge of having a stroke. "You were supposed to find a worthy champion to pull it free, not blow it to bits with dynamite!"

"It was C4 actually," Dean corrected. "And yeah, maybe I used a little too much," he admitted, "but it still works. That's what matters."

Giles removed his glasses and gripped the bridge of his nose tightly. He seemed to be attempting to prevent his head from actually exploding.

"Hey," Dean remarked to the room in general. "Who else here has a dragon sword handy? That's right, nobody. So, how about some thanks?"

The Watcher looked at Dean and opened his mouth several times to reply, then gave up and hung his head in defeat.

Buffy retrieved the sword from her Watcher's lax hand and held it up in front of her for inspection. "I like it," she announced, turning an extremely charming smile on Dean. "The average sword isn't big on stealth, but this one's nice and portable. I bet I could fit it in one of my oversized purses." She then stood on her tiptoes and looped her free hand behind his neck, drawing him into a kiss.

"Dear Lord," Giles grumbled, turning his head away from the pair. "We're all doomed. We may as well just trot all of the girls out into the courtyard and let Eve have her pick. Stupid Americans," he ranted to no one in particular. "Here's a priceless relic of the ancient world, let's blow it up so that it fits in a fashionable handbag. Then we can take it to McDonalds and all have a nice cheeseburger. After, we've finished snogging in public of course."

"Okay," Vi said as she rose from the table. "I think it's time for me and Rona to drive Giles and Willow home so they can get some sleep… Especially Giles, he's had enough excitement for one day and neither one of them are in any shape to drive"

"I'll go with you," Faith volunteered. "This may be our only chance to see daylight for a while."

"I don't want to ride with Giles," Willow announced. "I can get home on my own… magically," she added, childishly sticking out her tongue at the Watcher. Closing her eyes, she held out her arms dramatically, however, nothing seemed to happen. After a few moments, she finally gave up.

"I'm still here," she said sullenly.

"Yep," Xander agreed, rising from his chair and guiding his friend toward the door. "It's sleepy-time for little Will… her batteries have gone bye-bye. Now be good and let the nice Slayers give you a ride home."

"Fine," she said, "but I get the front seat. Giles deserves to be squished in the back."

"Yes of course," he snapped. "I am the great oppressor of all womankind and I should be grateful you lot aren't strapping me to the roof."

"You said it," Willow agreed as the two followed Vi and Rona out of the room.

Before leaving, Faith paused and briefly looked back at Sam, but quickly averted her gaze when she saw him watching her. Sam stared after her, his brow crinkled in confusion. He still had no idea what the hell was going on and he'd had no opportunity to speak to her alone about it.

Meanwhile, Buffy had carelessly placed the dragon sword on the edge of the kitchen sink and was now standing on her toes, both arms looped around Dean's neck.

"I'm sorry about Giles," she said with a sympathetic frown. "He's really overworked these days. I'm seriously worried about him actually. This meltdown has been coming on for a while. Guess we'll have to wait 'till later to ask him about vampires."

"Whatever," Dean replied with a shrug. He was much more interested in the woman in his arms than in fake vampires or the limey with the stick up his ass. "He kinda reminds me of a stuck-up British version of Bobby," he remarked, "without all the flannel and the smell of rot-gut whiskey. What's a 'prat' anyway?"

"I think it means 'moron'," his brother replied.

"Oh yeah? That's new. So, he pretty much just called us 'idjits' in a different language?"

Sam slapped his brother on the back and grinned. "Exactly Dean, but it's the same language. You know – English?"

"Oh, shut up," Dean replied irritably before returning his attention to kissing Buffy. He had a feeling both of them would be working well into the night, so in the meantime he was determined to enjoy whatever fun he could squeeze in.

Xander, who seemed much happier than he had earlier, stepped forward and reached around the couple to rescue the Sword of Brunswick from the edge of the sink.

"I better get this before it falls in that leftover bowl of Fruit Loops," he remarked to Sam, pointing to the half-empty cereal bowl sitting at the bottom of the sink. "I think something like that just might break Giles permanently."

Sam nodded his agreement. "Yeah, he seems to be wound pretty tight."

"You know," Xander continued, "I have to say, I think I'm a fan of your brother. I mean it. Buffy should keep him around. He's less than a century old for one thing. And big bonus - as long as he's making priceless artifacts go boom, I don't think Giles is gonna find me half as annoying as he usually does. This could really be good for my career," he added thoughtfully. "Seriously man, I've got some major responsibilities to think about. I can use all the help I can get."

Sam raised a curious eyebrow at the other man, this guy was quite a character and it sounded like he'd just implied that Buffy had a thing for much older men. Weird. Guess you just never know.

"Okay," he replied. "This just might work out for you then. You can always count on Dean to be annoying. That's pretty much his specialty."