Dawn was expounding the virtues of Russian literature (which Jess had never had much time for, because he found it too bleak) when he interrupted her and said "So. There's a wedding here tomorrow."

Dawn had to wrench her mind away from the point she had been trying to make about Chekov in order to concentrate on what Jess was saying. She had become just a little carried away with the discussion - she so rarely had the chance to talk to anyone about this kind of thing. Willow was generally busy, and besides she had always been more of a science orientated girl. Giles wasn't around all that much, and Spike had only occasionally talked about poetry, when he was in particularly maudlin mood. "Yes, I know. I've been seeing that guy flail around trying to get everything ready."

"What, Kirk? Yeah, he's not exactly the best organizer in the world."

"So, was there a point to you bringing this up?"

Jess smiled wryly. "Maybe I just got tired hearing about the Russians. I was hoping I could steer the conversation over to existentialism."

"If you did, I'd greet you with cries of hatred. I can't stand that movement."

"So, you like Russian literature but can't stand Camus. Even though you reference him. Interesting. They're every bit as bleak as Gogol."

Dawn shrugged. "Well, I'm a mass of contradictions. And I really doubt that you wanted to talk about philosophy."

"Hmm. Well, I'm giving the bride away tomorrow."

Dawn looked at him incredulously. "No."

"I haven't even said anything that needed a negative response. At least not yet."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "It was a cry of disbelief. Unless you got someone pregnant basically as soon as you were born - which is a horrific image by the way - you're way too young to have a daughter old enough to marry someone. So, either you are the world's youngest father or you stopped aging, and seeing as how you're out in sunlight it's obvious that you're not a vampire... yeah, you're not a father."

"Well, I can't fault your logic. However, I never actually said that I was anyone's father. Just that I was giving the bride away. The bride, incidentally, being my mother."

"Oh."

"Yeah, jumping to conclusions doesn't work all that well."

"Seemed to work for Canby."

Jess frowned. "Phantom Tollbooth? Seriously?"

"What? It's a good book!" Dawn said defensively.

"Yeah, if you're five."

"Well, you got the reference, didn't you?"

"Yeah, because I read it when I was five."

"No way do you remember something you read when you were five. Anyway, that's not the point. Why were you talking about the wedding?"

"Do you want to go?"

Dawn looked confused. "Why would I want to go to someone else's wedding? I don't even know your mom."

"With me." Jess clarified. "Do you want to go with me?"

Dawn didn't answer for a long moment. "Are you absolutely sure that you're not hanging out with me to make Rory jealous?"

"What? Where did that come from?"

"From you asking me to go to a wedding with you. About twenty minutes after confessing that you're still in love with someone else."

"Maybe I just want someone there that I can hold a decent conversation with. Even if they do like children's stories."

"Come on, you can't deny that it was an original idea."

"I can't help but notice that you haven't actually said yes or no." Jess said, smiling.

"Well, you haven't told me whether it's just a ploy to make Rory jealous." Dawn pointed out.

"I did, actually. You just didn't seem to be listening. Really, Dawn, first you think I'm someone's father, then you don't even listen to my answers. Maybe you should have your ears looked at."

Dawn swatted at his shoulder. "My ears are fine. And, for the record, I thought you were joking about wanting to have a decent conversationalist."

"Why?" Jess said, seriously. "I've been here for about half an hour now, talking to you. Even if your views on literature are just plain crazy. I've probably said more to you today than I did to my uncle after living with him for nearly two years."

Dawn looked at him, not entirely sure what to say. "I don't know. No one's really wanted to talk to me before."

"Really? Well, that's their loss, then."

Dawn flushed, looking down. "So, Roald Dahl?" she said, changing the subject.

"Come on, you can't compare Dahl to Juster."

"Hah! He still wrote children's books though."

"Yeah, but he also had his nose nearly cut off in a car accident. That beats Juster any day."

The pair spent some time arguing about literature - they seemed to have differing views on virtually every genre. Eventually, though, when it began to get dark, they realised that they should probably go their separate ways.

"So, you coming tomorrow?" Jess asked.

Dawn hesitated for a second, then shrugged and said "Yeah. Sure."

Jess flashed her a quick smile. "Cool. See you then."

Xander raised an eyebrow when he saw Rory coming towards him. "I know you like coffee, so much so that you feel as though you have to go rushing to Luke's to get us some, but I didn't think you liked it enough that you have to iwear/i it."

Rory poked her tongue out at him. Xander chuckled. "Anyway, we should get you home so you can change."

"Yeah, I know. I hope I can get the stain out, I like this shirt."

"I don't know. I think you look cute in coffee." Xander said, winking at her lavisciously.

Rory brandished the other cup at him. "Don't make me throw this at you."

Xander snapped her a textbook salute. "Yes ma'am! To Casa Gilmore it is!"

"You're such a goofball." Rory said, smiling.

"Oh, I know. That's all part of my charm."

They walked back to Rory's house, Xander carrying the basket and coffee and Rory trying to keep as much of her shirt off of her without actually taking it off.

"You know, I could take a look at that, if you like. I'm not a doctor or anything, but I do know a little something about burns." Xander said, gesturing at his chest.

Rory fought down the sudden nausea she felt as she remembered the burn on Xander's chest and how he had gotten it, and instead said "That's got to be the most delicate way anyone has ever tried to get me too take my shirt off."

Xander froze for a second in misstep, then carried on. "So, did you know that Luddites were a group of people who opposed the industrial revolution? They were also known as machine breakers."

"Yeah, I did. And that's got to be the worst subject change ever."

"Incidentally, I could've asked to see if you had any gang tattoos."

"Okay, what are you talking about now? I don't think Luddites had gang tattoos."

"I'm not talking about Luddites any more. Gang tattoos was the excuse your mother used to get me out of my shirt."

Rory grimaced. "Oh my God! Why would you mention that!"

"What? That your mother saw me shirtless before you did?"

"Shut up, or I-I-I..."

"You'll do what?"

"I'll think of something later." Rory said grumpily.

"Oh, I'm quaking in my boots."

"You're not wearing boots."

"I'm quaking in my shoes, then. Boots just sound so much more dramatic."

"It's also a chain of pharmacies in Britain."

"Okay, so that makes it less dramatic." Xander said. After a moment, he said "So, have other people tried to get you to take your shirt off in less circumspect ways?"

"Oh, yes."

Xander looked at her, horrified. "iThey have!?/i"

"Yup. They're always trying it. They call me Shirtless Rory on campus."

Xander spluttered. Rory burst out laughing. "Gotcha."

Xander eventually managed to get his composure back. "Ah. I see. That was revenge."

"It was." Rory acknowledged.

"You're evil. You know that, don't you?"

Rory nodded, smirking. "I try my best."

"So you haven't taken your shirt off for anyone else?"

"No. No, I haven't taken my shirt off for anyone else, and I have no intention of doing so."

"Hah! You said else! That means you're planning on taking your shirt off for me!" Xander crowed triumphantly.

"You - that was a leading question!" Rory said, turning a bright red.

"Yes. Yes it was. And you fell for it."

Rory thought for a second about launching a flurry of strikes at him, but that hadn't worked out quite so well the last time she had tried it. So instead she stepped up close to him, nearly but not quite close enough to touch. She looked up at him, eyes wide. "Well, Xander. My shirtless form is all for you."

Then she ran away giggling as Xander remained standing where he was as though paralysed, with a stupefied expression on his face.

After about a minute, he managed to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "You're evil!" he bellowed.

"I know!" Rory called back over her shoulder.

Xander caught up with Rory before she made it to her house. He threatened to throw coffee at her, she called his bluff. He threatened revenge. Rory smiled coyly and said that he was welcome to his revenge any time he felt like it. Xander spluttered incoherently.

"You're evil!"

"So you keep saying." Rory said, opening her front door and going inside.

Xander remained uncertainly outside.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Rory said. "Come in!"

"Are you sure? Do you really want me to?"

Rory didn't hesitate. "Yes. Come in. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want you to."

Xander came in. "I thought it might be part of some evil plan."

"I think I've had my fill of evilness for today. Wait here while I go and get changed."

"Into something more comfortable?" Xander called after her as she made her way up the stairs.

"Shut up, Valley Jesus!" Rory called back.

Xander followed her, intending to loiter around in the hallway so that he didn't have to shout to carry on the conversation. "What? Surely something not drenched in coffee has to be more comfortable?" he said innocently.

"Yeah, I'm isure/i that's what you meant." Rory said sarcastically. "Get your mind-"

She stopped, suddenly dizzy. She gripped the edge of her chest of draws to keep herself upright until it went away. She shook her head to clear the lingering sensation of discomfort. "Whoa." she said softly.

"You alright in there, Rory? I don't want to barge in there heroically only to find you without any clothes on." Xander paused. "Unless of course you want me to?"

"No, Xander I'm fine." Rory said. "I guess I just need to eat something. I felt a little dizzy."

"Yeah, well, try not to spill it all over yourself, okay?"

Rory rolled her eyes. "I'm sure I can manage that."

Away in his hotel room in New Haven, Ethan nodded in satisfaction. The spell was working just as he'd hoped - something that he hadn't been entirely sure of, Stars Hollow being what it was.

Now it was only a matter of time before things started to get interesting.

Ethan gingerly picked up the bust of Janus and tucked it under his bed, and settled down to scrubbing out the symbols he'd chalked onto the floor. He didn't need them anymore, although he wasn't relishing having to cut his palms every night for the next few nights. Still, how else could he get his blood?

Giles didn't think that he could change. Well, Ethan would show him. He would show him what a truly unreformed chaos magician could do. He'd show Giles change the likes of which he'd never seen.