Buffy counted to fifty after Giles left, then went to the corner and looked around. The Watcher was almost to Snyder's house. The Slayer drifted down the sidewalk, keeping well to the left of the concrete, then slipped onto the lawn of the house next to the scene of the crime and approached the ambulance parked in the dead administrator's driveway. She positioned herself at the rear of the vehicle, the open door shielding her from everyone in front of the house.

"Weirdest thing I've ever seen, I'll tell you that."

"Yeah, ME's gonna plotz when she sees this."

"How do you even categorize that? I mean, did he die from blood loss?"

"Pretty obviously."

"Well, then, where's the blood?"

"Not in his body, that's why he died. You don't have to account for where the blood went."

"Guess not. Gonna make the crime scene photos weird. Guy layin' on the floor, one stab through the heart and his throat slashed, shoulda looked like a Friday the 13th remake in there, instead you could soak up all the blood with a cotton ball."

"There was blood on his robe."

"Not enough. It should have been soaked."

"Yeah, it's strange… wouldn't say his throat was slashed, though."

"What would you say, then?"

"Cut with surgical precision."

"My ass."

"Seriously… did you look at those cuts? Nobody swung that knife. They didn't expend one extra ounce of effort."

"So, you're an expert on stab wounds."

"I've seen enough to know those weren't shots in the dark. Somebody put that knife right where they wanted."

Buffy looked over her left shoulder and saw Giles walking along the sidewalk, doing everything in his power not to look toward, trying so hard he might as well be pointing a neon arrow in her direction. She shook her head and withdrew, catching up to him at the corner.

"So," she said, "find out anything?"

"Very little." Giles unlocked the door and slid into the driver's seat. The Slayer hopped in on the passenger side and half-turned to face him, her back against the door.

"So, spill," she said.

Her Watcher checked his mirrors and kept his eyes on the road as he pulled into the street. "Believe it or not, the police were not terribly forthcoming."

"Did you offer to let 'em wear your jacket if they gave you a peek inside?" Buffy mock-recoiled from his sharp look. "Well, if you're not going to share, I did find out some stuff."

"Really?" Giles's look was even more doubtful than his tone.

"People hang out, they get bored, they talk, especially if they don't think anyone's listening. Anyway, Snyder was killed with a knife, but not like stabby-stabby."

"What do you mean?" The Citroen stopped at a four-way intersection Giles waited for a fifteen-year-old Buick to cross.

"Apparently, he was stabbed, but either that didn't kill him or somebody decided to throw in a little something extra. They cut his throat, but really neatly. Oh, and whoever did it took the blood. What?"

The librarian's face had turned a whiter shade of pale and his hand trembled on the wheel. "We need to return to the library, immediately."

Matti stopped just inside the library door. "Stefan'll be here in a minute. What's up?"

Perched on the counter, Buffy watched Giles pacing back and forth. "His blood pressure,mostly."

The Watcher stopped, pressing his palms to his forehead. "If it's all the same to you, I'll wait until everyone is here. I'm not sure I can collect my thoughts well enough to repeat myself."

Matti looked at the Slayer, who shrugged. "He's been like that since we got back. Major wiggage." The doors swung open again, and Matti was joined by her fellow Knight.

"Gerard's right behind me," Stefan said. "He pulled in right after I did." He had not much more than finished when the Canadian Watcher ambled into the room.

"Okay," Matti said, "I guess we can get started."

"Just one sec." Buffy hopped down from the counter, went to the door, and peered through the window. "Okay," she said, turning around and taking a few steps into the room. Xander, Willow, and Oz entered. Willow wore an orange, rust, and green argyle sweater over a t-shirt; Oz had on an army-green Combat Rock T-shirt and black jeans.

"What are they doing here?" Giles sputtered.

"Oh, I called Will, and she called the guys." Buffy held out a hand toward the table. "I think we can get started."

The door banged open and rocked its hinges. "Next time, I ride up front," Cordelia said. "Somebody's been smoking weed in the back of that van." With a start, Buffy realized that Cordelia was wearing the light-blue dress the Slayerettes had informally christened 'the bug dress'.

All eyes turned to Oz. He shrugged, palms up. "First I've heard of it."

"Maybe it's just dirty socks," Willow said brightly.

"It's not," Cordelia said, "and if it was, even more ewwww." She nodded toward Xander. "Forget how to dress yourself? Your shirt's buttoned wrong."

"What?" He looked down and hastily began to undo the placket of his batik-printed rayon shirt. "Hey, it's not my fault. I was sound asleep when Will called me… and in the middle of a very pleasant dream, I might add." Buffy, Willow, and Cordelia all blanched. "Hey, I can have other pleasant dreams, you know."

Buffy turned to Willow. "You called Cordelia?"

Willow wrung her hands. "Actually, she called me."

"Damn straight, I did. You keep running off and leaving me," the cheerleader said, pointing an accusatory finger at Matti.

"Can we proceed with the matter at hand?" Giles leaned over the table, his hands bearing his weight. As everyone shuffled toward the table, Willow sidled up to Oz.

"Has someone been smoking weed in the van?" she murmured.

Oz gave a miniscule shake of his head. "Probably my stash."

"Oz!" Willow's mouth flew open; her hand covered it.

"Not my stash," Oz said. "My stash."

"Oh, oh, so you've been keeping–"

"Some in the van in case of emergencies."

"Are you two done whispering?" Xander asked. "Care to share with the whole class? No? Then please pay attention." He folded his hands on the table and turned to Giles. "Go ahead."

Giles favored the boy with a smoldering look. "Thank you ever so much, Xander." He addressed the rest of the people seated around the table. "As Ms. Hollis and Mr. Warner already know, school was canceled today due to the death of Principal Snyder." The students exchanged frowns and wide-eyed looks; Gerard did not look surprised.

"Did his lack of a heart finally catch up to him?" Xander said.

"No," Giles replied. "It was not from natural causes. Buffy and I went to his home earlier this morning, I'll let her tell you what she learned."

The Slayer got to her feet. "Snyder died from blood loss-"

"Duh," Cordelia said. "Vampires."

"No." Buffy shook her head. "Vamps aren't known for neatness or knives. Whoever killed Snyder used a blade and was very cold about it. There was no blood at the scene."

"How do you know this?" Gerard asked.

"I hid out by the ambulance and listened to a couple of guys run their mouths."

"So, who killed him?" Willow looked around at the other faces. "I mean, I always assumed if he was on a side, it was the Mayor's."

"And where did his blood go?" Matti asked.

"That is a very pertinent question," Giles said. "It could only be Mr. Trick or Mayor Wilkins."

"And if Trick did it, I would guess it was either on the Mayor's order or with his blessing." Gerard drummed his fingers on the table. The motion caused his gold cufflinks to wink in the light.

"The little man pissed off his boss? Assuming he was working for the Mayor." Stefan qualified his question.

"I think he was the Mayor's guy," Buffy said. "I'd hate to think anyone was that big a jerk just because."

Giles rubbed a hand over his mouth. "It could be that he angered Mayor Wilkins, but…" The Watcher's voice trailed away. "It could also be that he was no longer useful, in which case he might be a loose end that needed to be tied up, or… his death was a form of sacrifice."

"That's cold," Xander said.

"It is a condition of certain very powerful, very forbidden magics, spells that require the blood of someone close to the practitioner." The table grew very quiet.

"You think he's ready to activate the Seal?" Matti asked.

"It's possible," Giles said. "We simply don't have enough information."

Matti grimaced, then pursed her lips before speaking. "Listen, I'm not sure there's a right time to do this, so… I'm just gonna put it on the table. Stefan and I have been kind of light-fingered with our reports to the Knights, but… I think it's time for us to call it in."

"And what will that do?" Buffy demanded.

Matti looked at Stefan, then back to the Slayer. "A couple of tactical teams, I hope, at least."

"Tactical teams?" Giles furrowed his brow.

"Weapons and magic," Matti said. "Maybe help us get the Seal, eliminate Mr. Trick and the Mayor at least."

Gerard leaned forward. "I do not see how that would be a bad thing. We are such a small force at the moment."

"Yes," Giles said. "Call them." He leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. "If only we had more information."

Willow held up a sheepish hand. "I, uh, I might be able to help with that."

"I really do feel bad about Bob." Richard Wilkins leaned back in his with a faraway look in his eye. "At least as bad as I can feel."

"I understand that he had faithfully performed his function, but ultimately there are sheep and wolves." Florestan turned from the window.

"And poor Bob was, in the end, a sheep. You're correct." Wilkins sat up abruptly and tapped his fingers on the desk. "He fulfilled his destiny. It's really quite an honor from one perspective, to supply the blood of a friend."

Florestan crossed to one of the visitor chairs and sat down. "And now we must procure the blood of an enemy."

"Oh, well, there's no shortage of those. Much harder to come up with a friend. That's what put Bob in the crosshairs. Enemies is a fertile field. We just have to pick one and make our plans."

"We really do not even have to do that. The blood of an enemy is readily available," Florestan said. The Mayor looked confused. The demon shook his head. "The Slayer?"

Wilkins's face brightened. "Oh, that would be perfect… pretty hard to get to though, don't you think?"

Florestan's face was blank for a moment. "Not the Summers girl… the Slayer you already have in your possession. The one you purposely brought back for an unknown reason."

"Huh," Wilkins said. "I never thought about that."

Florestan chose his words carefully. "Well, now we have a… legitimate purpose. It would be… high potency and low risk."

Mayor Wilkins was silent, the fingers of his left hand still tapping his desk. "I don't think so," he finally said.

The demon's lips compressed into a thin line. "And why?"

"There are plenty of enemies to get blood from. I have plans for her."

"Plans?"

"Yes." A light grew in the Mayor's eyes. "When this is over, what better emblem of my position?"

Florestan's eyes narrowed warily. "Sir?"

"Think about it. Is there a more powerful statement that there's a new sheriff in town than my own Slayer?" Wilkins nodded, lost in a reverie.

"She wouldn't have to be alive for that."

"What?" Wilkins came back to the present.

Florestan shrugged. "You could have her stuffed and mounted. Put her in the den."

The Mayor considered this for a moment. "No, I mean, that's appealing, but… I think alive is better." He waved a dismissive hand. "Blood of an enemy comes from somewhere else."

"Willow?" Giles's voice was dangerously calm. "What do you mean?"

The redheaded witch winced. "Well, you remember that thing, the thing I was doing, that you told me I shouldn't do, and I said I wouldn't, well… I've… kinda been doing it anyway."

Xander blinked. "That just sounds dirty."

Giles held out his hand toward the boy. "Quiet, Xander. Willow, are you saying that you have been… ?" He arched an eyebrow.

Willow nodded, her shoulders hunched. "I been."

Giles rubbed his forehead. "I see." Giles rubbed his forehead. "After I expressly told you that this was dangerous, that it was beyond your capability, you still-"

"Rupert." Matti cut in. "Is this the time?"

"No, Giles is right," Cordelia said. "If anybody would know, it's him. Remember last year, when that guy he knew in high school showed up, and then that guy Ethan-"

"Thank you, Cordelia. That's quite enough." The Watcher put his hands on his hips and gathered himself with visible effort.

"Do you think you can learn anything useful?" Gerard's index finger rested on his upper lip. Giles looked at him, shocked. The Canadian Watcher shrugged. "Why would we rule out assistance from any quarter? It's not as though you are asking Willow to embark upon a dangerous path. She has already been treading it herself."

"Urp." Willow's lip curled.

Gerard turned to her. "Can you learn anything without putting yourself in any peril?"

"Any more peril," Giles said, but they ignored him.

"I think so," Willow said. "At the very least, I can tell if anything has changed. I mean, that would help, wouldn't it?"

"Don't see how it would hurt," Matti said.

Giles tried to look stern, but landed on worried. "Well, since I am outnumbered, you will at least do this with supervision. Come here after school tomorrow."

Willow drew in a breath and cringed. "Yeah, well, if I'm gonna do that, I… I need to bring somebody else in. He won't be in any danger," she added hastily when she saw the looks on the adults' faces, "but I need him to anchor me."

Giles closed his eyes. "Very well, but it would be best if we did not reveal any more about Sunnydale's secrets to him."

Willow bit her lip. "Uhhhhhhh…"

Gerard leaned forward. "Perhaps we should end here for the day. It has been an eventful morning. You-" he pointed to the students "-should go home. We will stay here and… try to plot a course. Willow, bring this young man with you after school tomorrow."

"Works for me." Xander stood up. "Planning's not my strong suit and my tummy is growly." Oz, Willow, and Buffy followed his suit and the quartet headed for the door.

Buffy turned back. "Cordelia, you want a ride?"

The cheerleader stared at her for a minute, then said, "No, I'll just wait."

Matti looked back and forth between the girls. "You should probably go, Cordelia. It may be a while."

Buffy spoke quickly. "If it's going to be very long, she can come to my house for lunch."

Matti nodded. "That's a great idea." She turned to an open-mouthed Cordelia. "I'll pick you up at Buffy's when I'm through here."

Cordelia stared at her coach, then stood. "Okay, since I'm eleven." She scowled and stomped toward the door. "I get shotgun. You guys have to ride in the back of the cheeba-mobile."

Trick watched the door of the bar. This was not as easy as it sounded, because there were actually two doors: one from the lobby of the hotel and one from the street. He was in a corner booth, so he had both doors in a ninety-degree sweep and a good view of the establishment's clientele: mostly well-dressed, affable, and anonymous. Parents visiting their children at the U just up the avenue, some students play-acting at being adults, salespeople, the sort of permanent roadshow that frequented this sort of mid-high-end hotel and its on-site watering hole. Trick sat deathly still, but his eyes were in constant motion. The door from the lobby opened, and Trick flagged down a server.

"Auchentoshan Three-Wood, neat, and a Bruichladdich Bere Barley with a water back. Thanks." He winked and she walked away as Florestan slid into the booth. Trick waited a moment and swept the room again before speaking. "So, are we socializing now?"

"Hardly." Florestan smiled as the server placed Trick's drink order on the table. "Thank you." As she left the table, the demon pulled the scotch and water closer. "No, but we need to have a serious discussion about where we stand."

Trick took a sip and rolled the whiskey around in his mouth before slowly swallowing. "I thought we were pretty clear on that. Has something changed?"

Florestand tipped a little water into his drink. "I had a discussion with the Mayor today. I suggested that take advantage of his inexplicable decision and get the blood of an enemy from the imprisoned Slayer."

Trick took another sip and nodded. "Ah, yes, dear Faith. Seems like an inspired choice."

"I thought so myself." Florestan took a swallow. "He rejected it."

"What? Why?" Trick's voice stayed low and level; his brow furrowed slightly.

"He thinks it will be a better idea to keep her as a trophy, to display her as a symbol of his power after his revolution is complete."

Trick nodded and bowed his head. He was quiet for a beat, then his head came up, look of disbelief on his face. "He's a Star Wars fan."

"What?" Florestan stopped, his glass halfway to his mouth.

A bitter smile crossed the vampire's face. "It's a kink. Return of the Jedi. He wants her to be Leia in the gold bikini. He's going to sit on the throne of hell with her at his feet, with a collar around her neck." He shook his head in disbelief. "I wonder if he remembers it's Jabba the Hutt holding the chain."

Florestan shook his head. "I do not like this."

"Do you see me turning cartwheels? It's a dumbass decision, but he's payin' the band, so he gets to call the tune. You're right, killing her would provide the blood of an enemy and take her off the board, but he's not gonna do it, at least not now. If you want to try and go around him and kill her, be my guest."

The demon swirled his glass. "This makes the odds much worse."

"Please," Trick scoffed. "This was always a long shot and we're in better shape now, because we've actually got… the thing. We've hitched ourselves to this wagon, and now we've gotta try and drag it home. We can't just walk away, it's not like they won't find out about this, and I don't think we'll get any points for pulling out early. No, we're in this all the way down the line." The vampire poured the rest of his drink down his throat.

"So, that's it?" Florestan asked, an edge to his voice.

Trick stood up and shook his shoulders to settle his suit. "You just make sure you got all your ducks in a row. I'll get you the blood of an enemy, and a little bonus to boot."

"I wonder what they'll say at school tomorrow?" Buffy watched a squirrel run across the yard. She and Cordelia were in the wicker loveseat on the Summers' front porch. A bowl of Oreos provided a buffer zone between them.

"About what?" Cordelia asked.

"You know, why isn't the principal here? I mean, you can't just say "Oh, he's taking a sick day'." Buffy bit into a cookie. Her legs were folded up, her ankles crossed. "They could say he stole a bunch of the school's money and ran… Oh, Cordelia, I'm so sorry."

The brunette looked away to her left, her posture stiff. "It's true."

"No, I just mean… I would never… It just popped out of my mouth, it was so stupid of me. Please, I'm sorry."

Cordelia looked back at her, and the Slayer could see a fierce sadness in those eyes. "I know you didn't do it on purpose. Harmony would, but you're not Harmony."

"Gee, thanks for the small compliment." Buffy tried for a light, joking tone.

Cordelia shrugged and a small smile touched one corner of her mouth. "Not so small."

Joyce Summers opened the door and leaned out. "Would you girls like some lunch? I've got tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches."

"And just like that, I'm in fifth grade again," Buffy said, unfolding her legs and standing up.

"After school tomorrow, at the library. And don't be late… or a jerk. Just be there." Willow hung up the phone. She looked at the receiver, then picked it up and dialed a familiar number. "Hey, Xander, it's me… Willow me… really funny…" She was quiet for a minute, then said, "Tell me everything's gonna be okay."

Joyce opened the door, saw Matti Hollis standing there, and stepped outside onto the porch. "They're up in Buffy's room."

"Everything go all right?" the Knight asked.

Joyce weighed her answer. "It's been a little… cautious, might be a good word, but they're talking, and that's good."

A tight smile crossed Matti's face. "Thank you for improvising."

Joyce shook her head. "Think nothing of it… and thank you for taking care of Cordelia."

Matti shrugged. "What was I supposed to do?" She glanced up at the roof of the porch, as though she could see through it into the Slayer's bedroom. "They're her friends, whether any of them know it."

Joyce turned as the door opened behind her. Cordelia stepped out; Buffy was a pace behind.

"Ready to go?" Matti asked.

"Yes, please," Cordelia said. She trotted down the two steps, then turned back. "Thank you for lunch, Mrs. Summers."

"You're welcome, Cordelia. It was lovely to see you. Please, I hope you come back soon."

"See you at school tomorrow," Buffy said.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "How could we not, in this podunk town?" She jogged out to the 4Runner. Matti shook her head and said good-bye to Joyce, then went to the vehicle. As the SUV pulled away, Buffy assayed a small wave. Her mother looked down at her.

"How did it go?"

Buffy scrunched her nose. "Little stiff, but mostly tension free… or at least tension lite."

Joyce nodded. "That's good. Now, let's go inside, and you tell me what's going on."