Two weeks or so later found Mistoffelees and Griddlebone sitting in the sun, a book open on Mistoffelees' lap though he wasn't really paying attention to it. "Your turn."

"Hm...okay, I'm on a beach. Not an American beach - one of those island beaches where the water is way too blue. It's just before sunset, I'm lying on a towel and Gavin Rossdale is massaging my feet."

He managed to laugh at that as Tugger came up. "What you guys doing?"

Grids looked up, "Just a quick game of 'anywhere but here'."

"Amy Yip at the waterslide park," Tugger replied.

"You never say anything else," Mistoffelees rolled his eyes.

"I'm not fickle, okay? I'm constant in my affections. Amy Yip at the waterslide park."

Grids shook her head, smiling, but paused as her gaze fell on Cori on the other side of the quad, lecturing a student on something or other.

Mistoffelees's eyes followed her. "Wonder if he ever played," he said quietly.

"I don't know, he like, lived for school," Tugger replied. "I'm sure he was bitter there were only twelve grades."

"There's college Tugger," Mistoffelees continued, voice still soft. "Which he went to."

"So sixteen grades." Grids responded, "But I'm with Tugger, Cori definitely seems the sort who would have sat in math class trying to figure out how it could be...I dunno, mathier."

"I'm sure he got restless when he was younger," Mistoffelees protested, not pointing out there was graduate school too.

She raised a brow, "Misto, I'm pretty sure his diapers were tweed."

Cori approached, hesitating briefly before offering the three of them a smile, "There you are. Griddlebone, I've been meaning to speak to you about t-"

"Is that tweed?" She asked, cocking her head on one side.

"What? Oh, well, yes?"

Mistoffelees narrowed his eyes at Grids for a moment, before turning to the librarian and nodding. "Good morning," he mumbled.

Cori glanced at him, his smile softening slightly, "Good morning."

Grids glanced from one to the other, "What were you saying about tonight, Cori? Let me guess, Uprising? Prophesied ritual? Preordained death-fest?"

"The standards," Tugger replied as Mistoffelees looked back down at his book.

Cori shook his head, "Nothing so dramatic as all of that, a transport vehicle is delivering a supply of blood to the hospital."

Grids nodded knowingly, "Aha. Vampire meals-on-wheels."

"Well, hopefully not. We should meet in front of the hospital at 8:30 sharp. I'll bring the weaponry," her Watcher replied, offering her a stern look. "Just don't be late."

"Cori, have I ever let you down?"

"Do you want me to answer that honestly, or shall I just glare?" he replied dryly.

"I vote for a glare," Mistoffelees said, still not looking up.

Another voice suddenly spoke from behind him. "Morning, England," Demeter said, walking up. Mistoffelees tensed for a moment before raising his book to hide behind it.

Coricopat startled slightly at that, turning, "Oh, Miss Calendar. Hello."

"We still on for tomorrow?" Demeter asked. Mistoffelees gave up, sliding his book into his bad and murmuring that he had something to do before class and left.

"Tomorrow?" He frowned slightly, trying to remember, even as he watched Mistoffelees leave, something flickering in his grey eyes.

"I'm reviewing some computer basics with some students that have fallen behind. Mistoffelees was going to help out for extra credit," she said, glancing at where he'd retreated.

"Ha! Poor bastards, having to give up their Saturday-" Tugger started.

"Nine am alright with you?" Demeter replied sweetly.

Grids offered him a grin, "Looks like you're joining them, Tug."

Cori nodded slightly, "I see."

"Can't I get private tutoring from Misto?" Tugger squeaked in a small voice.

"Bomba will be meeting us," Demeter continued.

"Oh god. A bonus day of class, plus Bomba! A little rectal surgery and it will be the best day ever!"

Grids offered him a grin, "Careful what you wish for, this is Sunnydale."

"Don't say that," Tugger begged, as Demeter turned to Coricopat.

"Walk me to class?"

Grids just shrugged, "Could be worse. I could have jinxed you irrevocably."

"I..." He nodded, "Of course."

"Great. I like your coat by the way," Demeter said brightly as they turned to go.

"Thank you, light tweed," Cori glanced at Grids.

Tugger watched them leave with a dark expression

Griddlebone shook her head slightly, "At least he waited til Misto wasn't here?"

Tugger sighed and nodded. "Still. I'm just ticked. Probably shouldn't be but I can't help it. And I'm not looking forward to being in a room with Miss Calendar and Misto tomorrow. Watching him is gonna be painful."

She nodded, "Good luck. I'll provide fudge afterwards if you guys like."

"My hero," Tugger said, finally smiling again.

"Well, we'd better head to class."

"Class, yes, those things that come at regular times," Tugger said, rising. "Let us go then."

She rose, sighing and shouldering her bag, "Do you think he'll ever be alright?"

"Misto? Sometime, yeah. The problem now is rather than working through his issues and wallowing or mourning or whatever he needs to do, he's pretending he's okay when he's not. Sometimes it's a cute habit of his. Right now it's just painful."

"When do you think he'll actually stop ignoring it?"

Tugger paused. "A year? At the rate he's going, ages."

She sighed, "Well, I guess we keep supporting him however we can then."

"Fudge, Pizza, movie nights," Tugger ticked off. "And making sure he gets to the Bronze and drinks too many Italian sodas."

"Sounds like a plan," Griddlebone agreed, nodding, as they walked through the school halls.

o.o.o.o

Demeter glanced over at the librarian as they walked away from the students. "Thank you for loaning me that book, by the way. It was wonderful."

"The..? Oh, right, I'm glad you enjoyed it."

She frowned slightly. "Hey, everything alright with you there?"

"Hm? Of course, why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, for once you're responding slowly, you barely appear to be listening to me, you have dark circles under your eyes, and even books don't get you excited anymore. What's up?"

"Oh, I haven't been getting as much sleep as usual is all. I'm fine, really," he offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"You sure?" she asked, flicking her blonde hair back. "I mean, little paranoid considering where we live. And you really don't look so great."

"Really, I'm fine. Like I said, I just haven't been sleeping well, that's all."

"Any reasons? Isn't tea supposed to help sleep?" she asked, voice teasing.

He managed a smile in response to the teasing, "Did you hear about the incident on Halloween?"

"Somewhat? I was home though, so I just heard a couple crashes and nothing really came to bother me."

"Good. It was a bit of a disaster, but came out alright in the end."

"I'm glad it turned out. Is that what's been bothering you?"

He nodded, answering quickly, "Yes, it was disconcerting to say the least."

"What happened?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Anyone who bought a costume from a particular shop ended up turned into that costume." He answered, "Mistofelees chose a ghost costume, and Griddlebone was an eighteenth century noblewoman."

Her eyebrows rose. "Ghost? As in dead? And... well damn. That must have been great to have the slayer out of the game. At least Halloween's a slow night."

"Well, it is traditionally," Cori replied dryly.

"Not a slow night then?" she shook her head. "Damn."

"It's difficult to classify it as 'slow' when there are so many devilish costumes. I don't believe there were any fatalities, thank God."

"Well, if nothing went wrong, what's the problem?" she asked, tilting her head. "Okay, it went wrong, but Misto's breathing and no one was killed."

"Does anything have to go wrong?"

"No," she said. "But it bothers you so much, I suppose I'm trying to work out why."

He hesitated for a long moment, "I knew the man behind it."

"A bad blast from your past?" she asked, trying to tease and not aware how close to the mark she was hitting.

"To put it mildly."

"Anything you care to talk about?" Demeter asked, tilting her head to the side.

He considered and then shook his head, "Not at the moment."

She frowned at that. "Alright. Well, if you ever do, you know where to find me I guess. We're we still on for this weekend?"

"I believe so. Are we?"

"I am if you are. Would you like to go out or stay in?"

His mind flickered to Mistoffelees and felt betrayal on either answer, "Go out, I think."

She blinked and nodded. "Hey, it works for me. Meet at seven?"

"Seven sounds good." He glanced up as the bell rang, "I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah," she said, almost leaning in for a kiss but the bell rang and a whole host of students swarmed by. "See you at seven, Saturday."

"See you then." He offered her a faint smile and made his way to the library. He really needed to just give in and call in sick one of these days. He pushed the door to the library open and froze, apparently today would have been the day to do so if the two uniformed policemen and their commanding officer standing inside were any indication.

The police woman gave him a long look. "Charles Coricopat?"

He looked her over, nodding slightly, "Yes, that's me."

"Detective Winslow," she said, flashing her badge. "You're going to have to come with me."

His tone grew wary, "Why?"

"There was a homicide last night on campus. The victim has no identification but he was carrying this slip of paper," she said, holding up an evidence bag with a slip of paper. "Which has your name and address on it."

He frowned at the slip of paper, "My name?"

They were interrupted as Bombalurina came through the doors, "Well, evil just compounds evil, doesn't it. First I'm sentenced to a computer tutorial on Saturday, now I have to read some computer book. They have books about computers? Isn't that the point of computers, to replace books?"

Cori's jaw tensed, "Bombalurina, I'm a little busy just now..." He motioned to the police officers.

"Oh, great. Can you help me with a ticket? It's totally bogus, a one way street, I was going one way -"

"Bomba!" Coricopat's tone was sharp.

"What? Why does everybody always yell my name? I'm not deaf. And I can take a hint." She paused, looking between the other people in the room, "What's the hint?"

The librarian smiled thinly, "To come back later."

"Oh, right. Later, after you've visited decaf-land." She flounced out.

Cori sighed, turning back to the officer in charge, "My apologies. Where is it you want me to go?"

"The morgue," the police officer replied, looking deeply unimpressed. "To try and identify the body if you can. If you'll follow us please?"

"Of course," he nodded, following the officers out.

At the morgue, the assistant glanced over at him. "Have your breakfast this morning?" he asked conversationally.

Cori shook his head, "No."

"That was probably a good idea," the attendant said, pulling the sheet off the body. Cori paled, recognizing the man and the method of his demise.

"Did you know him?" Winslow asked.

"Yes. I mean, I did. His name is Philip Henry. He was a friend of mine in London. I haven't spoken to him in twenty years..." If Philip had come all the way to California to seek him out then, well, Coricopat really didn't want to think about the "then".

"Can you think of a reason he'd want to contact you after all that time? Or end up dead for that matter?" the detective asked.

The Englishman's gaze was drawn to the tattoo on the dead man's forearm, but he shook his head, "No. I can't."

Winslow looked at the same tattoo. "You have any idea what that tat stands for?"

Another shake of his head, "No. No I don't," he lied easily.

o.o.o.o

Grids checked her watch, 9:03. Cori was beyond late. She was waiting for him outside of the ambulance bay, but she hadn't heard from him since that morning and it was starting to get concerning. Scratch that, it was concerning. She finally left her lookout post long enough to drop a quarter into the payphone and call his apartment. She got a busy signal in response, frowning she pressed zero. "Operator can you check a line for me?" Headlights swept over the booth and she quickly rescinded that, "Never mind, sorry..." She hung up and slipped back into the shadows, watching as a van pulled up, the words "medical transport" stenciled on the side.

The driver got out and moved over to have an intern sign for the large ice chest that another one unloaded from the van. The driver got back in and drove away as Grids watched the interns carry the ice chest back toward the hospital door. She frowned, "Since when do doctors take deliveries?" The interns picked up their pace, passing the door and heading for the side of the building. Grids took off after them, quickly closing the gap.

Once out of sight of the main road, one of the interns ripped one of the blood bags open, taking a swallow as a vampire stepped out from the car they were heading toward. "Hey! No sampling the product!"

Grids moved quickly forward, slipping a stake out of her sleeve as she neared. Three of them, she liked the odds. Would have liked them better if she had some back-up, but it would do.

As the vampires bickered about the product, another shadowy figure suddenly descended on them, tackling the first vampire from behind.

Grids ran the last distance, stake at the ready, but she pulled up just shy of staking the newest arrival as she recognized him, "Mac!"

"Grids! Good to see you. Behind you," Mac said, throwing out each sentence quickly.

She stumbled to the ground as the vampire-driver slammed into her back, knocking her down. The remaining Vamp dove for her, to be greeted with a stake in his heart.

The car suddenly screeched before driving away at top speed. Mac cursed under his breath.

Grids got to her feet, brushing herself off, and glanced at Mac, "How did you know about this?"

"It's delivery day," he replied with a shrug, glancing at the box that the blood was in, scooping it out. "Everybody knows about it. They only ruined one bag."

"Can you do me a favor and make sure the hospital gets the rest?" She asked, her gaze going to the ruined bag.

'Sure I can. Any reason you want me to?" he asked.

"I'm worried about Cori. He was supposed to meet me here. Like more than half an hour ago."

"Maybe he's just running late," Mac said with a shrug, rearranging his black leather coat to sit right.

"Cori? Who counts tardiness as the eighth deadly sin is 'just running late'?" She shook her head, "Maybe, but I don't buy it."

"Right, you have a point. I can finish up here, no problems."

"Thanks. I'll see you later. Take care, Mac," she offered him a smile, leaning up to give him a peck on the cheek before slipping away, heading for Cori's apartment. He wished he'd had time to turn his head into that kiss, but nodded, waving after her before hefting the container of blood to get it to the hospital.

o.o.o.o

Grids was about halfway to Cori's place when she ran into Tugger, "Oh, hey."

"Grids!" Tugger said, turning slightly with a bag of what looked like groceries in hand. "How's it hanging?"

"Not as well as I could hope. Cori didn't meet me tonight."

"He didn't show?" Tugger frowned.

She shook her head, "No. I'm worried, I was just on my way to go check on him."

"Want any company?"

"I wouldn't say no to it."

"Works for me," he said with a shrug. "Company's always a good plan after all."

She nodded, "Then we'd better get going." She started toward Cori's place, "I called him a little bit ago, but I couldn't get through-the line was busy."

"Seriously?" Tugger shook his head. "Stranger and stranger."

They finally reached Cori's place, pausing outside his door when his muffled voice could be heard: "Are you certain she didn't leave a forwarding number? I've been on the phone for hours, this is a matter of life and –" Grids cut off anything further that he was going to say by knocking. The door opened slightly a few minutes later to reveal Cori, sans jacket and vest, his hair looking like he'd spent the last six hours running his fingers through it.

"Grids, Tugger, it's late, are you all right?"

"Was gonna ask you the same thing," Tugger said, looking him up and down.

"Yes, fine, of course. I'm afraid I'm rather busy at the moment. I'll see you Monday." He started to shut the door, but was stopped when Grids stuck her foot against the doorjamb.

"Cori, did you forget about the hospital? Vampires? Bags of blood in handy carry out packets?"

He looked her over quickly, "Oh. Are you all right? Were you hurt?"

"No. I'm fine. What's wrong?" She withdrew her foot, hoping he'd maybe let them in of his own accord.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong, I'm in the middle of an extremely important matter and I'm sorry but I'm just going to have to say good night now." Cori's tone was hurried and he closed the door in their faces, locking it. Moments later his voice could be heard on the telephone again, though even more muted this time. "Are you still there? Yes, any number, a relative, anything..."

Tugger blinked at the door. "Okay, that is not normal behavior. Is it cos of Misto you think? Or something else? I can't decide which I'm hoping for more."

Grids just stared wide-eyed at the door, shaking her head, "I don't know what that is. I don't think it's just Misto, though is it bad I hope it is?"

"Well, that means we're not going to be dealing with death, just heartbreak."

"Exactly." She sighed, "Come on, nothing more we can do here tonight."

"Alright. Any plans for the rest of the night?" Tugger asked.

She shook her head, "A basic patrol and then bed I think. You?"

"Nothing really. Home, room."

"Sounds like we've both got great evenings planned. Well, I'll see you later." She offered him another smile.

"Yeah. Good luck with patrol," he said, waving his free hand.

"Thanks, good night!" She waved, slipping away.

"Just another exciting night," he murmured, shaking his head before heading home.

Meanwhile back inside the apartment, Cori hung up the phone, calling the number he'd been given, "I'm sorry to disturb you, I realize it's five in the morning there but I'm trying to reach Deirdre Page. My name is Charles Coricopat, she knows me, it's very important..." He listened, paling at the answer, "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't know... when did she pass away? Oh dear, that recently. We were friends when we were young... my condolences."

Cori hung up again, sinking down into a chair at his desk. He picked up the glass of scotch he had poured for himself and took a drink before turning to a list he had—Thomas Sutcliffe, Philip Henry, Deirdre Page—he crossed Deirdre's name off, just as he had done with Thomas and Philip. His gaze focused on the final two names on the list: Franklin Rayne and Charles Coricopat. He rose, moving into the bathroom and to the sink. He rolled up his sleeves, staring at the tattoo on his forearm: identical to the one that had been on Philip's arm in the morgue. He splashed water on his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror, "So. You're back."

o.o.o.o

"This is not right," Bomba whined as she made her way down the hall, "School on a Saturday? That throws off my internal clock."

"When are we gonna use computers in real life anyway?" Tugger asked and Mistoffelees rolled his eyes.

"Home, school, work, games."

"I like games," Tugger perked for a moment before shaking his head. "No, computers are on the way out. I think paper's about to make a huge comeback."

"And the abacus," Mistoffelees said, rolling his eyes again.

"Yeah. You just don't see enough abaci laying around," Tugger said with a grin as they reached the door, meeting Demeter there as she was unlocking it.

Grids approached them quickly, "Hey, everyone."

They all arched their brows. "What are you doing here?" Tugger asked.

She glanced at Tugger, "I..." She bit her lip, she'd forgotten both Demter and Misto were supposed to be there.

He blinked at her. "Hey, wanna demilitarize the zone between me and Bomba then?" he asked, as they were assigned seats, gesturing to the fact she was in the same row as him.

At the front of the classroom Demeter glanced over at Mistoffelees who was setting down the notebooks he'd brought. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

The teen glanced up. "Yeah?"

"Do you know if anything is wrong with Coricopat?"

Mistoffelees blinked, trying not to gape. "How so?" he asked, voice softer than usual.

"Well, I don't know. He seems off lately, tired, and like, we seemed to be doing well and now I have no idea what he's thinking, or even if he's interested."

It took Mistoffelees a long moment to formulate any sort of answer. "I, really wouldn't know. Usually it's just research and occasionally tea, I really am not subject to his inner workings. Sorry."

Grids sank into the chair between Tugger and Bomba, looking at Demeter, "Strange I was going to ask you that question," she said, referring to how Coricopat was doing.

The teacher glanced over to Grids, missing Mistoffelees' shoulder sag. "Oh?"

She nodded, "We were supposed to meet last night, he didn't show so I went by his place. He...he looked terrible. Tugger'll vouch for it." Her voice was quiet, cautious as she kept an eye on Misto.

"You went by his place?" Mistoffelees asked, eyes moving to Tugger who nodded.

"He looked like hell. Hell warmed over in a microwave," the taller teen replied.

"I-I think he may have been drinking," Grids murmured.

"Tea?" Mistoffelees asked, faintly. Tugger glanced at him and shook his head. "Damnit."

She glanced around, "So, anyone have any ideas?"

Bomba shrugged dismissively, "He was perfectly normal yesterday when I saw him talking to the police."

Mistoffelees knocked his notebooks over. "What?" he shrieked.

Grids gaped at the other girl, "And you waited until now to tell us because...?"

"I didn't think it was important."

"He was talking to the police and it wasn't important?" Mistoffelees demanded, looking far more disturbed and angry than Demeter.

Bomba eyed him, "I said he seemed normal."

"Talking to the police is never normal," Mistoffelees replied, hands flickering.

"What were they talking to him about?" Grids asked.

"Oh, I know this one...something about a...homicide," Bomba nodded definitively.

"A homicide?" Mistoffelees shrieked and Tugger was up before his friend got any further into a panic.

"Right, I vote calling him about now."

Grids nodded, "I'll go do that." She slipped out of the classroom and to the library.

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