Sunnydale might be on a Hellmouth, but Giles was convinced the Sunnydale Municipal Airport was Hell itself. On the walls painted a dull institutional color were cheery posters reminding one there were many places more fun and exciting than where one was at present. The baggage claim was a further distance from any gate than Giles would have thought possible for such a small airport and to clinch matters, there was a vampire waiting for him in the passenger lounge. "Tara's not with you?"

"And hello to you, too, Rupert." Spike indicated the direction they were to take for the long trek to the baggage claim. "She thought about it, but Red wanted to have dinner and since they're trying to work things out…"

Spike lapsed into silence, but there seemed no further explanation necessary. Tara and Willow were both young; that they might find one another's company more enjoyable than Giles' was no surprise. Not that Giles should expect a hero's welcome on his return, anyway. He'd fairly snuck out of town the last time (even if he thought a hasty exit would be the least painful for all involved) and it had truly been his own uneasiness at the possibility of getting trapped if he returned even for a festive occasion that had kept him from Xander and Anya's wedding.

But Xander had left Anya at the altar, Anya had disappeared and Giles' presence had been required, even if only for the mundane reason of seeing to the business of the shop. This was why he was standing at the infernal baggage claim with Spike on a Saturday evening.

A thousand questions burned through his brain, but he had no idea where to start. That Willow and Tara were attempting to repair their relationship after Willow's rather spectacular fall on her face with the forgetting spell was welcome news and likely as good a place to start as any. "How is Willow, ah, doing with the magic?"

One booted foot resting on the edge of the baggage carousel, hands buried in the pockets of the ever-present duster, Spike shrugged. "Reasonably well, I suppose. Found herself some support group called 'Spellcasters Anonymous' of all things. Serenity Prayer and the like, I suppose. Reckon most of that little group would probably run screaming if they knew some of the things Red's done."

Giles frowned, not at all encouraged by the news. "It's something, I suppose, and that she willingly decided to seek help before more damage was done."

The sideways look Spike shot him was unsettling. "You haven't heard, then? No one bothered to write? Call you?"

Giles shook his head as the vampire muttered, "Bloody idiots," and began patting at his pockets for a cigarette. "Seems that Tara moving out removed the last of the controls on Willow. Don't know all the details -- not being privy to the inner circle and all -- but she ended up at a magic pusher, guy name of Rack. Bad news. Customers think they're getting all sorts of power, but he's really using them to feed himself. Rips open all sorts of conduits that should be handled gently or not opened at all."

"And you know about this exactly how?"

Spike abandoned his tobacco quest, hands returning to pockets. "Learned about him when I first came to Sunnydale. Uncovered every power source I could trying to figure out how to cure Drusilla. Anyhow, Red gets strung out on what Rack's pulling through her and has to go back for another fix. Only this time she has Dawn in tow. Leaves the girl sitting in the waiting room while she plays for hours. When Red does come out, it's late and her little venture has had the side effect of conjuring up a nasty demon who follows them, looking for a tasty nibble.

The warning light began to flash and there was a grinding as the conveyor groaned to life. Without sparing a glance at the luggage that was beginning to slide down the chute, Spike continued his tale. "Fortunately, Buffy had gotten worried about them having gone missing for so long and we were out looking for her. Caught up with them as Red crashed the car she'd stolen to help them escape -- which she was driving by magic, by the way -- and the demon decides Dawn would be a tasty snack. Buffy starts to take down the demon, but the thing goes up in flames. That was Red's doing and you could see the power crackling off her hands even after. That yours?"

Giles nodded as the garment bag came into view and Spike leaned in to grab it with deceptive ease before continuing. "Niblet had a broken arm and I ended up taking her to emergency while Buffy dealt with our addict. Since then, Red's been going cold turkey, drinking water and seeing her support group. Doesn't come into the shop unchaperoned and the few times she has been in on my watch, you better believe I keep an eye on what she's browsing through. Haven't seen her for nearly two weeks, not since I gave Harris his disinvite."

There was a hint of a grin, the first Giles had seen since he'd walked off the plane. "Disinvite?"

"Yeah. Told him he wasn't welcome in the shop while I was there. Reached a point where I'd had enough of his yap."

Another sign things were not going well, but Giles figured Xander was a subject not to get caught up in. Snagging another of his bags, he asked instead, "How is Buffy? And Dawn, of course."

If he hadn't been watching Spike's face, he might not have noticed the tensing of the jaw muscles. "Doing as well as can be expected. I'm convinced there's something wrong with the spell Red used to bring her back, but some seem to think otherwise. Working in a dreadful burger place to keep body and soul together. Body's holding on, but the soul seems to be losing the battle. Any more?" he asked, gesturing at the two bags they'd already pulled off the conveyor sitting on the ground alongside Giles' carryon.

"One more. Considering I have no idea how long I'll be here, I thought it best to be prepared. A burger place, you say?"

"Doublemeat Palace. Know you're familiar with it; I remember seeing the wrappers in your trash."

That Spike was familiar with some of his habits was a fact Giles had forcibly purged from his mind some time ago. Unfortunately, he'd been unable to do the same with the Doublemeat Combo. "She couldn't find something else?"

"My point exactly. You talk to the girl; maybe she'll listen to you."

The last bag came by and was retrieved. Between the two of them, it was a simple matter to carry the luggage out to the airport's parking structure, lit by orange lights that made Giles look dead and Spike deader. They also threw Spike's face into sharp contrast highlighting cheekbones and lines of stress Giles had not noticed before. He considered asking when Spike had last fed, but decided that was information he did not need to know or that Spike would give willingly. Instead, he turned the conversation to inconsequentials until they reached the car. As expected, it was Spike's old DeSoto waiting for them, looking as disreputable as ever. "Have you ever considered trading up?"

"What? And give up a classic? I'll have you know the old girl's still got plenty of life in her. Made it to Brazil and back a couple of times, which is more than I can say for that old Citroen you used to drive."

"It was a perfectly serviceable vehicle, I'll have you know."

Spike grinned. "Try saying that in Fyarl; it sounds even funnier. Besides, I noticed what a 'serviceable' vehicle you traded up to: red, shiny, shaped like a…"

Giles shut his ears to the rest of the sentence. Another memory he'd tried to forcibly expunge: the cocky blonde dressed in an absurd brown suit grinning at him, Giles thinking the boy was his son. He settled onto the broad front seat, his luggage stowed in the back. The interior was surprisingly clean, the carpet even showing signs of having been vacuumed at some point in recent memory.

His surprise must have shown on his face. "I give Dawn and some of her friends a ride from time to time. Wouldn't do for Social Services to find her consorting with beer bottles, now would it?" Spike said as the engine roared to life, spewing lord-knew-what pollutants into the air. "Probably should excavate the trunk some day; haven't done it in years."

"Surprised you haven't, especially if you're taking Dawn about. Teenage girls seem to have a great many, ah, things they carry. The room might be helpful."

"Only if I could store a few of them in there. Especially that Janice character. Her mum seems nice enough, but I'm not sure the girl's a good influence on Dawn."

The words sounded more than faintly parental and Giles found no response as they passed through the parking structure gate after paying the fee. "'Sides," Spike continued, "I think most of it's Dru's junk anyway. Don't know if those are memories I want to dredge up."

It was the second time he'd mentioned Drusilla's name since Giles' arrival, both times casually, both times sounding if there were memories he was trying to put in their proper perspective. It was a bit strange to hear; as his interest in Buffy had grown, Spike had become a bit reticent in mentioning his past. Even Spike seemed to understand mentioning the old girlfriend in front of the potential new girlfriend was Not a Good Idea. Of course, that understanding had only truly come after Spike had learned chaining up the old girlfriend and the potential new girlfriend came very firmly under the heading of Bad Idea.

As they moved onto the highway towards downtown Sunnydale, Spike shoved a tape in, ending the need for conversation. Giles relaxed as the sounds of the Velvet Underground filled the car; one memory he hadn't forcibly rid himself of was the discovery that he and Spike shared some similar tastes in music and an evening passed in companionable silence drinking beer and going through old albums.

The trip to the Hilton Sunnydale was relatively quick and the valet relatively slow to approach the DeSoto. When the man finally gathered up the courage, Spike was already out of the car and loading Giles' bags from the back seat onto the sidewalk. "Just dropping off."

The bellhop moved more quickly, likely in an effort to get the old heap away from the hotel as soon as possible so it would stop bringing down the property values. "So, tomorrow at one?" Giles asked as the bags were trundled into the lobby. "It won't be a problem with your sleep?"

"Giles, my sleep schedule went to hell months ago. One is fine with Tara, she'll meet us there."

With that, Spike slid back behind the wheel and roared away. Giles paused on the sidewalk for a moment, watching the tail lights disappear. On the surface, he'd appeared normal enough -- as normal as one might expect for a chipped vampire -- but there'd been something just a little bit 'off'. It wasn't until he was safely ensconced in his room that Giles realized what was missing: the swagger.

***

The swagger was missing the next afternoon as well. Giles had spent two hours at the round research table with Tara, papers spread out across the surface while Spike busied himself with minutiae about the shop, speaking only when Giles or Tara asked him a question. "Have you thought of a career in retail once you finish school?" Giles asked Tara only half-jokingly as he put aside another stack. He hadn't time to examine all of the records, but what he had seen so far put to rest any doubt in Anya's choice of caretakers.

Tara offered up a gentle smile, much as she had most of the afternoon. "I'm not the only one who's responsible. Spike takes care of things when I'm in class, which is most mornings and a few afternoons. The customers seem to like him."

It wasn't the first time Tara has mentioned Spike when Giles had complimented her efforts. He wasn't purposely trying to ignore Spike, but neither was he certain exactly how to proceed in that area. Watcher warred with store owner, one side telling him he was a fool for trusting a vampire around potentially dangerous objects while the other took note of the careful records written in a looping hand. He thought of appointments, meetings and how he'd manage without an assistant during the morning hours.

"Don't let Glinda sell herself short," Spike called from behind the counter. "She's the one who's kept me from killing idiots like the Mandy-bot."

"Mandy-bot?"

Tara smiled. "I'm afraid Spike isn't terribly fond of Mandy from the Chamber of Commerce."

Yet another forcibly expunged Sunnydale memory. Pink suit, blonde hair, insanely perky attitude...Giles adjusted his glasses on nose. "Quite an appropriate description, I must say. Shame you stopped him."

"Oh, the bird give you trouble too?"

"The general irritating sort." Deciding enough had been said on the subject, he picked up the next piece of paper. "Sunnydale Glass? What did we need them for?"

Tara's glance over to the counter was impossible to miss, as was Spike's sudden deep interest in his work. Frowning, Giles read the invoice more closely. "Counter glass. Why did we need to replace the counter glass?"

"There…was an accident," Tara said. "Nothing serious…"

"When something's broken in this shop, it's usually quite serious. What was it? A demon? Some evil Buffy was fighting?"

"Buffy wasn't anywhere near it." Spike's voice sounded tight.

"It was just an accident, Giles. We got it cleaned up right away."

Giles didn't respond, focused on Spike. He was shifting papers from one stack to the other, looking anywhere but where Giles was sitting. "What sort of accident?"

Spike finally looked up. "I tossed a bloody book through it, alright? I'm evil. You can take it out of whatever you're going to pay me."

"It was a bad day," Tara offered. She kept glancing at Spike, concern evident on her face. There was more here than met the eye, but Tara wasn't the type to betray a trust and getting Spike to talk was going to be difficult.

Tapping the pages, Giles pondered his options. He could just let it go, make Spike pay for the work as he had offered. That Spike had offered to cover the cost with no prompting or coercion was unsettling in and of itself.

Unsure how to proceed, he decided some tea would be in order to help the cognitive processes. Making his way to the small tables where the supplies were kept, he noted with interest the jar of instant coffee, tin of cocoa and the decided lack of tea bags. Another item caught his attention, however. "Why do we have these?" he asked, holding up the bag of mini-marshmallows.

"Those are mine," Spike admitted. "I happen to like them in my cocoa."

The idea of William the Bloody, Scourge of Europe and Slayer of Slayers having cocoa, much less having little marshmallows with it was too much. "Tara, would you be a dear and fetch me some tea from the Expresso Pump? The Ceylon, if possible."

Tara was not a stupid woman. She knew what he was about; he could see it in the way she stood and the way she caught herself before throwing one more look at the counter. Things had changed while he was gone. Before, Spike had never shown any signs of closeness to Tara; now she was acting like a mother hen toward a chick. Perhaps it was merely her maternal nature, but that hadn't come out over the summer when Spike had been radiating pain at anyone who came within viewing distance. Perhaps it was working in close proximity to one another, though that wouldn't account for the mutual admiration society he'd seen while they were discussing their handling of the shop.

Despite her protective air, she left them alone, shutting the shop door firmly behind her. "I think you and I need to talk," Giles said.

"I said I was sorry for the glass. Let my temper get the better of me. It's not like you haven't seen me break things before."

Everything about the scene screamed wrongness. Spike had always faced his accusers, thrown up a wall of sarcasm and withering remarks. He'd walked into situations he'd known were hostile and brazenly tried to manipulate things his way. He did not hide behind shuffling paperwork, head down and shoulders hunched. "I'm more interested in why your temper got the better of you."

Spike didn't look up. "It's over, done. Doesn't matter why."

Irritated, Giles removed his glasses and rubbed at them with his handkerchief. "I'm still somewhat fatigued from jet lag, so this is probably not as diplomatic as it should be, but since it was my bloody counter that was broken, I bloody well have the right to know why."

Spike's head jerked up, a sudden flare of anger turning blue eyes darker. "You really want to know? I got tired of hearing Harris and Red self-righteously flap their mouths about things they don't know a damn thing about and snapped."

"They were here when it happened?" Giles wasn't surprised there had been a confrontation; things between Xander and Spike had seen a cease-fire during the summer, but the hostilities had begun to escalate once more after Buffy's return, neither side behaving particularly well. "Was this when you decided to 'disinvite' him?"

"No, that was…" Spike stopped, let his head drop back and took a deep breath, releasing it in a sigh, none of which seemed to do anything for the tension in his body. "Bloody hell, you'll hear it anyway. Probably better me than Xander."

It took only a second for the pieces to fall into place. "You finally convinced Buffy to sleep with you."

Spike blinked. "Well, I was going to actually try to avoid that part, but, yeah. Always knew you were quick on the uptake."

"And Xander has, not surprisingly, taken exception." With an effort, Giles managed to keep his tone calm, though the idea of staking suddenly seemed very attractive.

"Got it in one," Spike said with a faint hint of his usual sneer. "Red as well. They've both been worrying at her, trying to convince her it was a bad thing. Don't seem to give a damn what she thinks or what might make her happy."

"And is Buffy happy?" Giles didn't bother to hide his annoyance.

He'd expected a smirk; what he got was a glower. "Do I look like Buffy's happy?"

"You shouldn't be surprised if she's having second thoughts now that it's public." Giles replaced his glasses and stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket. "I must say that I don't approve of the liaison and if Buffy asks my opinion, I shall tell her so."

"And doesn't the moral high ground sound lovely, Rupert." With a look of disgust, Spike dropped the papers he held, not bothering to notice that several them fluttered to the floor as he stalked from behind the counter. "The irony of this is that the girl and I were quits before they found out. Didn't seem to matter to them."

"You've known Xander for what, almost five years now? Are you surprised he'd be angry at you over this?"

"I'd be surprised if he wasn't. Should have taken a bite out of the whelp when Angel gave me the opportunity. I can live with them hating me; it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. What I won't have is Red and Harris hounding Buffy about what's gone on, worrying her and making her feel something less than she is."

Spike had begun to pace, putting Giles in mind of a panther in a cage; if one got too close or careless, he was still dangerous. "The girl needs is support and she's getting precious little from her so- called friends. What I hear from Dawn…what I've heard from Buffy… Tara's doing what she can, but you know havin' those nearest and dearest rake her over the coals is bringing her down."

There was a proprietary air to his words: I don't like them messing with my woman. "If Buffy has ended it, then it is hardly your concern," was Giles' instinctive reply.

Several months away from the Hellmouth and Giles had forgotten how quickly vampires could move. One moment Spike was almost on the other side of the shop; the next, he was in Giles' face. "You expect me to act like Angelus or Captain Cardboard and go running when things get messy? I love her, Watcher. Deny it all you want, but doesn't change the truth of it and I'm not going to abandon her like every other man in her life."

Spike backed away, but the accusation was still there in his eyes. Giles had left, too. "You give a damn about her, don't go judging her or telling her you don't approve. She's confused and frightened as hell. No matter what Tara says, whatever Red did to bring her back, something went wrong."

His words echoed Giles' own thoughts and fears regarding Buffy's return, fears he'd come to believe no one else shared. Before he could speak, however, ask Spike what led him to this conclusion, the bell over the shop door reappeared, signaling Tara's return. She got only few steps in before she stopped, taking in the scene with wary eyes. "Everything alright?"

"All's right with the world," Spike said with a cocky grin. He moved away from Giles, bending down to scoop up some of the pages that had dropped to the floor. "Watcher-boy was just reminding me he doesn't think I'm good enough for Buffy and that he'll stake me if I hurt her."

Tara's brows drew together. "Spike, I'm sure he didn't mean…"

Spike held up his hand. "It's fine." His words were sharp, revealing emotions at odds with the façade he presented. A moment's struggle, then both face and voice softened. "Just worried about her because he cares. Would think less of him if he didn't."

Tara put the tray with the three cups from the Expresso Pump on the circular table and deliberately made her way to stand in front of Spike. She didn't say a word, but her expression spoke volumes. "I'm not shutting you out," he protested. "Giles and I understand each other. Have for a long time."

Tara looked unconvinced, but let the matter drop. Retrieving one of the cups from the tray, she offered it to Giles. "The Ceylon, just as you asked."

Giles felt a sudden urge to answer, "Thank you, Mother," but resisted. He'd seen this mood a few times before, when the steel emerged from the softness underneath. That steel must have served her well in recent months, just as it had when she made the decision to leave her abusive family behind to come to Sunnydale.

She passed a cup to Spike, then settled back into her chair with her own drink. "Do you want us to stay on? To help with the shop, I mean."

The question was not confrontational, but it was direct. Giles did not answer immediately, still absorbing the last bit of his conversation with Spike. Watcher and businessman argued one final time and the decision was made. "Yes. Both of you."

Once again Spike looked at him with surprise. "And you haven't even counted the money in the till."

"Perhaps Tara's a good influence on you. You might be redeemed yet."

A snort. "Never."

"Also, I might want your help on the matter we were discussing."

Eyes and lips narrowed just a touch and he nodded grimly. Allies, then. At least for the moment.

He turned toward Tara expectantly. There was no hesitation as she agreed. "Do you want me to continue handling the arrangements for the Chamber of Commerce mixer here in two weeks?"

Giles almost dropped his tea. "Here? Who volunteered us for…"

"It was a surprise to us, Rupert," Spike said as Giles trailed off. His smirk was somewhat marred by the hint of a whipped cream mustache from the hot chocolate he was drinking.

"Apparently Anya set it up before the wedding. I've been working with Mandy on the details."

Giles could have kissed Tara for that. He hated the idea of hosting a mixer at the shop, but there was little he could do to cancel with only two weeks notice. Could they arrange a nice, convenient apocalypse, perhaps? "If you could continue, I'd appreciate it. I'd prefer to deal with the Mandy-bot as little as possible."

For the first time since she'd re-entered the shop, Tara showed a hint of a smile. "If the two of you keep calling her that, I'm going to slip up one day."

"Just let me know if she's coming this week. I'll make arrangements to see my accountant that day."

"Which reminds me, Giles -- what's a W-2? Colleen was asking about it."

Thank you, Anya. How am I going to explain an undocumented alien vampire to my accountant? And when did said vampire meet my accountant? Giles resisted the urge to clean his glasses. This was one situation that wasn't going to go away if he didn't look. "I'll speak to her. Anya, unfortunately, forgot there are certain procedures on must follow when taking on employees. Since you're staying on, some arrangements will have to be made."

He wasn't certain where to go next. Buffy, W-2's, Employment Development Department, resurrection spells gone wrong -- all were beginning to tangle in his head. Taking a deep breath, he tried to sort through the threads, deliberately looking away from his companions to focus on a distant spot…

…which was occupied by a display of books carrying illustrations of cartoon monsters on their covers. "Why did Anya decide to start carrying D&D material?"

His questioned elicited a hint of a groan from the other two. "It sells. Does well with the teenagers," Tara said. "They seem to enjoy buying it from a 'real' magic shop. We haven't ordered any more while she's been gone, but there have been some people asking about some new items. I didn't think it would be right for us to go ordering a bunch of new things. We've mostly just re-ordered standard supplies, kept the herbs and other ingredients stocked."

Giles nodded absently, wondering what other changes he would find as he delved into things. He'd done his best to be a silent partner and let Anya run the store as she saw fit -- and the profits certainly justified her actions -- but if he was going to be here for any length of time without her, it wouldn't hurt to make a few little changes. "If we've got customers for them, we should probably order the bloody things. I want to move them someplace a little less prominent, though. After all, it's only a sideline."

"Can we move the Ann Rice novels to the same dark corner?" Spike asked. "The crap's taking up some prime real estate."

Giles frowned and stood. "We're carrying Anne Rice? I can't believe it." He made his way to the shelf Spike indicated and found titles such as Blood and Gold, Merrick, Queen of the Damned, The Vampire Lestat, and the ubiquitous Interview with a Vampire all tastefully arranged around the skull that occupied the center of the shelf. "Good lord. She's turning us into Barnes and…"

He broke off as he noticed something strange within one of the eye sockets of the skull. Moving closer, he realized there was a lens staring back at him. Cautiously, he slid his fingers into the other eye socket and gently felt the hard body that indicated some kind of device was there. Doing his best to be casual, he walked back to the table. "Did Anya say anything about surveillance equipment?" he asked quietly, his back to the bookcase.

The puzzled looks on both Tara and Spike's faces gave him the answer. "There is a camera in the skull next to the Anne Rice books. I'll ask Xander if he knows anything, but I think someone may be spying on us. I'll ask Willow to do what she can to trace the signal."

Certain they were aware of the implications, Giles cleared his throat. "I think we've covered enough ground for one afternoon. I'm going to go visit Buffy. Spike, I presume you're opening tomorrow?"

"Uh, yeah. Better toddle off and sleep the rest of the day like an evil bad thing's supposed to do." He rose to his feet, but not without casting a surreptitious glance toward the camera. The idea that their earlier conversation could have been monitored had to be running through his mind. What other conversations had been caught and why was someone interested?

When Spike had disappeared into the basement, presumably taking the tunnel route back to his crypt, Giles turned to Tara. "Care to come along? There are still a few questions I'd like to ask you."

"Do you really think someone's watching us with a camera?" Tara asked once they were settled in his rented car.

"I think it may be a distinct possibility. Before I left, Buffy complained of strange happenings and that she suspected she might be under surveillance. I'm afraid I never followed up on it, what with other happenings and then I…left."

"You couldn't know," Tara said.

"But I should have suspected, should have been more observant. Instead, I left her alone and adrift, ready to…" He broke off, not wanting to continue. Drove her into the arms of yet another vampire. Aren't I a wonderful Watcher?

"They're both hurting," she said. "He loves her and she's very confused, but part of her wants to be with him."

Her words surprised Giles. Clearly Tara was far better informed of the situation than he had imagined. "You approve?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Not really. Not like they are now. But I'm not going to go out of my way to make them feel worse about it. They need to work it out themselves. It's…hard."

Giles reached over to pat her hand, the only comfort he could offer. When Buffy, Willow and Xander had been in high school, he could find amusement in the trials and tribulations of their relationships (except when Angel became Angelus, of course); now, as adults, it was sad to think of them with shattered relationships. He felt a tremendous urge to try to fix everything, but even if that was the right thing to do, he had no idea where to start.

The Revello Drive house looked much as he remembered it, the picturesque normality belying the inhabitants. He hesitated as he emerged from the car, wondering how he'd be greeted. Buffy had been none too happy when he'd announced his departure and they'd had no opportunity to speak after Willow's forgetting spell had been broken. His last memory of her before the spell had descended was of her telling them all how hard it was for her to be there, how much it had hurt.

Would he even be welcome?

Tara was already heading up the walk and he followed her, something Spike had once said echoing in his head: We band of buggered...

It didn't take long for the door to open, revealing Dawn, who had quite disturbingly grown several inches in his absence. "Hi, Tara… Giles!"

She threw her arms around him, her head coming much closer to his chin than he remembered. "I knew you were coming, but I didn't know you were going to be here today. Buffy will be so thrilled!"

"Couldn't let too much time pass without visiting." He felt himself relax a little. At least the Dawn hurdle had been passed without too much trouble.

"Buffy! Giles is here!" Dawn's voice echoed up the stairs as she dragged him into the living room. Almost immediately, footsteps were heard, but it was Willow galumping down the stairs. Another round of hugs, but Giles noticed he took second place to the nervous greeting Willow offered Tara.

Buffy followed after a minute, much thinner and more serious than he remembered. It had only been a few months, but the events of that time had clearly taken their toll. There were a hundred things he could have focused on, but only one came to his lips. "You've cut your hair."

A flash of a smile and then she was across the space between them to wrap him in a hug that threatened to crack his ribs. "I was going to be so mad at you," she said, voice partially muffled by his jacket. "Give you all sorts of grief for going away, but I'm just glad you're back."

He patted her gently on the shoulder, glad for the ache in his side, glad she wasn't angry. There was an urge to simply whisk her and Dawn away from here, back to Bath where they could rest and heal, just two girls enjoying life. Unfortunately, she was a slayer, he was a watcher and no matter how much he might want to protect Buffy, she had a sacred duty which tied her to this place. "I'm not back for good," he warned. "Just until I can get the shop settled."

She released him slightly, enough so she could look up at him. "I'll take what I can get at this point."

He patted her again, trying to offer what assurances he could with the gesture. He knew full well the Magic Box wasn't going to be his only concern while he was in Sunnydale. It wasn't just that Buffy was his slayer; despite his protestations she needed to stand on her own, he'd spent a fair amount of time fretting over what she might be doing. Based on the evidence he'd seen so far, he might not have been wrong to do so.

Stepping back, he took another look. "You're, ah, looking well."

"She's too thin," Dawn complained. "It's those Doublemeat Burgers."

"Dawn, Giles doesn't want to hear about the good old Doublemeat."

Buffy's annoyed-struggling-to-be-patient air brought a smile to Giles' face. "Actually, I was going to invite both of you to dinner so we could catch up." He glanced over to where Willow and Tara had their heads together. "Why don't we go outside and let them have some privacy."

A glance in their direction and Buffy let Giles lead the way onto the front porch. "Any idea how long you'll stay?" she asked as she settled herself on the rail.

"At least until we hear from Anya. I don't suppose you've heard anything?" He sighed at the shake of her head. "I really wish Xander would have spoken up earlier about his reservations. We could have avoided this mess."

"You wouldn't have had to come back to Sunnydale." Buffy's eyes dropped toward the boards of the porch while Dawn studied the dead plant in the hanging basket over her head.

Giles frowned. The haunted look he'd seen before his departure was still there. "Dawn, do you think I might have a moment with your sister?"

Dawn looked from Giles to Buffy and back again. For a moment she looked as if she might protest, but then there was a light of understanding. She hopped down from the railing and started for the door, only to turn back and give Buffy a hug.

"She's grown," Giles commented.

"Every day, it seems." Buffy shook her head. "That was one of the hardest things to wrap my mind about. Suddenly, she was taller than me."

"Younger sisters have a tendency to do that when you're not looking."

"And I certainly wasn't looking." She sighed. "It all hurts, Giles. No matter what I do, what decisions I make, they seem to be the wrong ones."

Giles stood and held out his hand, sensing that away from the house might be the best place to continue this conversation. "Why don't we take a walk?"

The neighborhood was awash in normality: children playing across the lawns, grass being mowed, dogs barking. Giles and Buffy walked along in silence for several minutes. "I gather life has not been uneventful since I left."

"You mean between Xander leaving Anya at the altar, Willow OD-ing on black magic and nearly getting herself and Dawn killed, money being so tight I have to work at the Doublemeat Palace to not even make ends meet and three nerds trying to completely ruin my life? No, nothing's going on to speak of."

Her arms were still tightly crossed, shoulders pulled in but he could feel the anger rolling off her in waves. "I'm having to deal with Social Services, trying to convince them not to take Dawn away from me, which is not helped by the fact she's been a total klepto. All I seem to do is work, patrol and try to figure out how to keep things going."

She stopped speaking for a minute, but Giles said nothing, hoping she would continue. "I can't connect with my friends. I'm only just starting to connect with Dawn again. The only thing in my whole life that makes me feel alive is…"

Buffy fell silent once more, but only for a moment. "I've been sleeping with Spike."

She spoke the words as if she were announcing the end of the world. She looked like it, too, as if she were afraid he'd hate her for what she'd done. In some ways, the drama both she and Spike seemed to attach to this was ludicrous. He couldn't tell her that, though; not when she seemed to be waiting for the kick. Instinctively, he put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed gently, Buffy responded by hugging him once more. "You don't know how glad I am you're back. Everyone else…"

She didn't finish the sentence; didn't have to. Even if he hadn't spoken with Spike, the way she held on told him all he needed to know. "Have you tried telling them to mind their own business?" he asked.

That got him another squeeze before she let him go. There was a smile on her face now; sadness touched the edges, but a smile all the same. "You're not going to wag your finger at me?"

"If I didn't feel compelled to do it over Angel, why should I feel compelled to do it over Spike?" he gently urged her to begin walking again, continuing their way along the sidewalk. "Besides, Spike can be useful at times and there are far more serious things to worry about than your choice of boyfriend."

"He is not my boyfriend." The words came out a little too quickly. "He was just there and he listened and he'd do almost anything for me and he wouldn't leave and he's…did you know vampires can gain weight? I didn't realize it until I saw Angel just after I came back. He's put on a few pounds."

Giles was certain he did not want to know how Buffy's brain had leapt from Spike to Angel's physical appearance. "Actually, I had heard the possibility discussed."

"They can. That's probably why Spike uses the training room in the morning."

Explanation received, whether he wanted it or not. "Buffy, have you had any further troubles from the people in the van you thought were following you?"

Her face hardened. "You mean the Nerds? Oh, yeah. Lots of trouble. I want to take them down, Giles. They've committed murder and tried to frame me for it."

"You're joking. You're not joking. Buffy, did you call the police? This isn't a matter for the Slayer. This should be handled by a human agency."

"Wonderful idea, except there's no way to link them to the body. It's a mess. They use magic and science…they came up with a ray gun that turns things invisible. Why these guys want to take over Sunnydale instead of working for Microsoft is beyond me."

"So they're perfectly capable of putting surveillance cameras inside the Magic box."

Buffy stopped walking. "What?"

"I was at the shop earlier this afternoon, going over things with Tara and Spike. I happened to find a camera inside the skull that's next to the Anne Rice books. I'd like to have Willow take a look at it, see if she can trace the signal back to its source. I think we should also make a discreet search for other cameras."

Giles turned to face her. "If we do find other cameras, we should take them to the police. If nothing else, they can be arrested for illegal surveillance and likely for breaking and entering to get the cameras into position."

She was silent for a long moment. "And if they decide to send a demon after the police? What then? I tried to find them and they summoned up a…Glag Gark Whatchamacallit."

"A…do you mean a Glarghk Guhl Kashama'nik? Good god, Buffy. Did it…?"

"Poke me? Yup. Thought Sunnydale was a hallucination. Almost drove me to murder my sister and friends." She fixed him with a level stare. "So tell me again how the police are going to be able to handle these guys?"

Giles sighed. He hadn't been hit on the head, but there was no doubt about it; he was definitely back in Sunnydale. "I think you'd better tell me everything…"

On to Episode 7: Searching

Back to Episode 5: Reactions III