•••

"Bugger all!" "Giles slammed his soft leather briefcase into the stairwell. "Buffy!"

The blonde Slayer stepped out onto the second floor landing. "You bellowed?"

"Please, remind me again why I want to help rehabilitate Faith?"

Buffy shrugged. "Masochism?"

The older man slumped down onto the stairs, looking rather rejected. "That must be the answer; otherwise I would have ceased subjecting myself to such torture long before now."

Buffy walked down the stairs to six next to her Watcher. "What happened?"

"She refuses to discuss the possibility of returning to Slaying, or of even training, when she is released from prison," Giles muttered. "I cannot make her see that it is dangerous for a Slayer to do such a thing; there are many who would jump a the chance to fight an out-of-practice Slayer."

"Did you tell her that the Council won't let her just walk away?" Buffy inquired.

"I might have mentioned that," Giles conceded.

"Hmm. She won't like being told what to do," Buffy commented. “At least, she hasn’t so far.”

“I realize that,” Giles replied shortly. “However, it is one thing for her to be resistant to the idea of taking up studies. She cannot avoid what she is-a Slayer!”

“Why don’t you hand her off to that Brian guy you brought in from the Mothership?” Buffy suggested. “He doesn’t seem to have enough to do; he follows me around all the time and won’t even help out in the office!” More than once she’d tripped over the young Watcher as she tried to work. He just stared and took notes, not even offering to assist her, Willow and Dawn.

“Perhaps, although I doubt he will have any better luck than I,” The older man murmured. “Where is Dawn? I promised to visit the mall with her today,” Giles continued.

“She’s at the police station, trying to convince some detective that he didn’t see a bunch of demons attacking a Girl Scout troop,” Buffy replied.

“Did a bunch of demons attack a Girl Scout troop?” Giles asked, worried.

“Yes,” Buffy said, “But only after the Girl Scouts harassed them into buying five cases of cookies.”

“And that was reason enough? I assume you handled the demons,” Giles stated.

“Yup,” Buffy replied. “Told them to donate the cookies to the local shelter and stay away from little girls in green clothes.”

“You *WHAT*?” The Watcher shouted. “They were attacking children!”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “No, they were seeking retribution. The Girl Scouts used underhanded tactics to force the demons to buy the cookies; they made it look like the demons had damaged the cases, and the demons had to buy them or the cops would rough them up. Only thing is, the Girl Scouts set them up with Trefoils.”

“And this is so damning why?” Giles grated out.

“Azyakka demons have a deadly allergy to shortbread cookies,” Buffy said. “When they got the cookies, they realized that not only had they been bullied by a bunch of kids, they’d been sold their equivalent of poison. They wanted retribution.”

“Ah,” Giles murmured. He wasn’t sure he liked the way she’d handled it, but he held his tongue. The past few years had been enlightening for the Watcher; when he’d first arrived he’d been shocked by the changes he’d seen in Buffy’s attitudes toward demons, humans and her predestined duties. In the time since then he’d seen her change even more and while occasionally he disagreed with her, over all he was quite impressed, although the shock had yet to wear off.

Buffy no longer held the ‘humans’ first attitude that marked her youth. Gone was the time-honored training that all Slayers endured, namely that of learning to identify and kill demons while saving humans. Oh, Buffy still did a lot of that, but she refused to live such a simple life anymore. Giles wasn’t sure if it was the lingering influence of Angel and his group’s nonhuman make up, Buffy’s relationship with Lorne, or the presence of Wolfram & Hart. Regardless of cause, Buffy had shaped herself, and thus the reputation of the Slayer, into someone who defended innocents, be they human or demon, and pursued the evil and unjust, regardless of species. She didn’t slay humans, making sure the cops got them somehow, or they got payback in some non deadly form. She still slayed most of the demons she pursued, but that was mostly because death was the way most demons were used to being punished. Only a few demonic communities in Los Angeles had any sort of formal judicial system in place to handle crime; the ones that did had already learned to work with the Slayer when she came to them. The vast majority of the demon population, however, knew that when they crossed the Slayer, death was the most likely outcome.

“If it is not too much trouble, could you tell Dawn that I will be in my office, should she still want to take this odious trip to the mall?” Giles murmured as he rose.

“Sure,” Buffy said, waving him off. Her computer bleeped and she went to answer it. /Damn. Vision, and nobody’s here but me and Giles./ “Hold up a sec, Giles.”

Giles stopped in the doorway. “What is it?”

She scanned the e-mail. “Job, emergency one. Wanna go stake some vamps in Echo Park?”

Giles sighed. “The sun is not down yet,” He reminded her.

“No, but it will be in three hours, when the vamps are gonna be swarming a barbecue.” According to Xander’s vision, there were going to be around twenty vampires, all intent on slaughtering a family reunion.

“As you wish,” He said, moving over to the weapons room. “I find it interesting that you receive so many of your most critical jobs via e-mail.”

Buffy looked over at her Watcher. “Giles, it’s 2007. Dawn orders pizza by instant messenger. Willow refills her prescriptions via e-mail. We shop by text-messaging on our cell phones. Some of our best clients prefer to use e-mail. Why? Because a lot of them are snitching on their own kind and they don’t want to be found out; they’d get killed.”

Giles looked suitably chastised and went about the business of selecting a few stakes. He still got a bit surprised sometimes at the selection and quality of the stakes and weaponry Buffy had inherited from Angel. Traditional Watcher mentality stated that weapons should be of good quality, maintained meticulously, and respected faithfully. Angel, however, had added an element of aesthetics to his collection, choosing blades with mirror finishes, inscriptions and other such decorations. The stakes, too, were carved with designs and words, as though to differentiate each one. “It would seem as though Angel had an affinity for the baroque,” Giles murmured, holding up one particularly gaudily decorated stake.

Buffy peered over. “Beech. Don’t use that one; it’s the last we’ve got. Besides, vamps don’t care if it’s pine or piñon.”

“Ah,” Giles said, setting the stake aside. “Beech? Those are rarely used, except against—“

“Parghfa demons, I know,” Buffy said. “Junior year, just before Christmas.” She walked over to Giles and picked up the stake. “Angel and the others carved them all as some sort of bonding thing. Each kind of wood got a different design. I guess it helped for the ones that looked really similar.”

Giles nodded and resumed his arming. This time he made sure to select only the more mundane woods. He quickly realized that the oak stakes were all carved with a design of winged phalluses. His first and last thought on the artwork was that he wouldn’t have thought that Spike could carve.

•••

Dawn got home to a quiet hotel, but she was expecting that. Lorne was out working some of his business contacts, ever trying to improve the club. She’d gotten Buffy’s message about the vampires while on her way back home and had continued on to grab a bite and check her mail. She still had plenty of time to meet up with the others, and besides that she needed to leave a message for Willow. The redhead had left her phone and pager at the hotel, so she was incommunicado at the university.

The young woman grabbed a banana and a bologna sandwich and then headed up the stairs. A quick trip into the office told her that all her e-mail was utterly mundane, so she jotted a note to Willow, stuck it on her computer screen, and ran to her apartment for a change of clothes. The cute little blouse and skirt she’d worn to the police station just weren’t cut out for slaying, no matter what Buffy thought. For Dawn, fighting was done in blue jeans, long sleeved shirts and leather. Lots of leather. No heels. She preferred her motorcycle boots most of the time.

Checking one last time to make sure all the wards were in place and hadn’t been tampered with, Dawn returned to her car and drove over to Echo Park. She hoped Willow got the message either early enough to join them before the fighting started, or late enough she knew to just visit with Lorne.

When Dawn reached the park, she scanned the area, looking for where Giles and Buffy were stationed. They signaled her and she took up a spot in the third position in the triangle. The sun would be down in less than ten minutes and the party they were protecting was in full swing. Dawn wished she could join in; the food smelled divine, the music was addictive and there were bunches of kids playing games and stuff. Sighing, she returned her attention to the task at hand: dusting vamps before the interrupted the event. Fun could be had later, even if it was at Caritas and not in the park.

The last rays of the sun were just dying when Dawn spotted the first vampire. He was leading a whole pack of them, waltzing over a low hill as though they owned the park. She backed up a bit, making her presence less obvious. The vampires didn’t even notice her—or Giles and Buffy—as they zeroed in on the partygoers. The demons paid for their inattention; the leader burst into a cloud of dust as Buffy launched a stake at him.

“Dawn!” Buffy shouted, directing her sister towards a trio of vamps heading for some children. Dawn staked the first through the back before jumping up to leap over the second. She landed right on the third, falling onto the ground as the vampire turned to dust from her stake. She flipped as she landed, holding a stake up in her hands. The third vamp was already reaching for her, so she just nudged the stake up a bit and impaled the demon, remembering to close her eyes and breath out through her nose as the dust covered her face.

“I hate vampires, especially when they do that. In fact, I’ll pay anyone who develops a vampire who just explodes into *nothing* when they get staked!” She muttered, launching herself into the fray once again. She made sure to keep from getting backed into any tight spots; there were enough vamps that Buffy wasn’t going to be able to just save her if she got into a spot of trouble. Giles was holding his own, staking the demons as fast as he could, but he was hindered by his age. Oh, he wasn’t over the hill yet, but compared to Buffy and Dawn, he just wasn’t that agile anymore.

“Duck, Giles!” Buffy screamed as a vampire pulled out a long knife and began brandishing it towards the Watcher. Giles simply stepped back and waited for the vampire to finish showing off. Then he threw a stake at the demon. The rest of the fight was over quickly; Buffy finished off the last three fledges with no difficulty and the Park was soon free of vampires. For the moment, anyway.

“Thanks, Dawn,” Buffy said as she retrieved all their discarded stakes. “I take it you didn’t see Willow?”

“No,” Dawn replied. “But we did ok on our own.”

“Very true,” Giles murmured. “We should get back, though. Lorne has a surprise for Buffy at the club tonight.”

“I thought it was supposed to be a surprise. You know, the whole ‘don’t tell Buffy about it’ kind of surprise,” Dawn shot back. Buffy just grinned.

“It’s ok,” The Slayer said. “I knew Lorne was up to something. Besides, Giles didn’t tell me what the surprise was, you know.”

“Fine,” Dawn relented. “Can we swing by the mall on our way home? I need to grab a couple of things.”

Buffy frowned. “I guess so, as long as it’s quick.”

•••

“Damn,” Willow swore. “There was a vision, and I didn’t have my phone with me.”

Lorne patted her hand. “It was fine, honey,” He said. “They called in, everything went ok, and they’re on their way back now. Besides, you were busy.”

“I was reading,” She shot back, still worried. “And I have to start keeping my phone with me more. I can’t believe I keep forgetting it!”

“Perhaps,” He murmured. “But you did get a lot done today. Now we know who Wolfram & Hart have at the library. That’ll help Buffy figure out who’s behind those attacks on the physical plant staff.”

Willow nodded, partially appeased. She took her work seriously and didn’t like the idea of shirking, even if it was accidental. “So what do you have planned for the evening? And don’t bother denying it; I know you’ve got something going on. I distinctly remember you placing an order for a Frangelica torte this morning, and you’ve been stockpiling cognac for weeks now.”

Lorne managed to blush a dark green. “It’s a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise? I mean, I know it’s for Buffy; she’s the one with the Frangelica addiction around here. But what are you planning?” Willow pressed.

Lorne stared at the bar for a moment before reaching into his pocket. He withdrew a small box and placed it on the shiny surface, pushing it over to Willow. The redhead glanced from the demon to the box, eyes wide and curious. “If that’s a ring…” She began slowly. Lorne said nothing, so she reached for the container. Inside, nestled in a swath of velvet, was a bracelet—or an anklet, she guessed. It was a bit long for a bracelet. “Er, what is it?”

“A ring,” Lorne said softly. “Of sorts.”

Willow lifted the jewelry. It was a surprisingly heavy, complex chain of interlocking links, all made of hammered platinum. She felt the slightest hum of magic on the piece, which she quickly set down. “I take it that’s a bit more than a tennis bracelet?”

Lorne laughed roughly. “More than a bit more,” He replied. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea or not, though.”

Willow smiled and pushed the box back towards him. “It is. She loves you, more than she’s loved anyone else. I can tell, you know. I’ve seen her in love before, and this is different. She actually talks to you, which she never did before. Yeah, she talked to them, but it’s not the same.”

Lorne nodded.

“Besides, you’re practically married anyway!” Willow exclaimed. “But please, don’t let her pick out the bridesmaids’ dresses? She’ll go for chiffon, and I hate chiffon.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Lorne replied. “Demons don’t usually…”

“And you’d deny her a big wedding because you’re green?” Willow asked ominously.

“Not if she wanted it,” Lorne admitted.

“Good. Because she might, or she might not. Never can tell with Buffy, not on that issue,” Willow stated. “But good luck anyway. You gonna sing?”

“No. I’d mess up anything I tried,” He said jokingly.