“Xander! Will you please take care not to spill any jelly on that book! Really, I don’t know why I allow you to eat while you research...”

Giles felt more irritable than usual. He took his glasses off and cleaned the lenses. It had been too long since the last apocalypse or big bad, and he knew that something big was up--he felt it in his bones. He had come to pay attention to this sixth sense, his ’spidey sense’ as Xander called it, whatever that meant. He’d been aware of it for the first time when the Master had shown up on the Hellmouth, and since then he’d felt it every time trouble was about to rear its ugly head.

Tonight was no exception, and he could feel it coursing throughout his body, stronger than ever.

The Scoobies glanced at each other, aware of the watcher’s unusually quick switch from nagging to introspection. He hadn’t even noticed that Buffy’s latte had left a ring on his copy of Encyclopaedia of the Undead...

Worried, the Slayer decided to try and pull him back to the present. She got up and closed her book, postponing the latte stain lecture to another day. “Giles? Hello! Earth to Rupert Giles...” She waved her hand in front of his face until he acknowledged her presence.

Giles shook his head, and looked at the young woman standing before him. Putting his glasses back on, he spoke up. “Oh! Sorry about that. I was just thinking...”

His apology was interrupted by the phone ringing.

Anya, being nearest to the phone, picked it up. “Good evening Magic Box, we’re closed right now so we unfortunately can’t take your money. How may I be of assistance?” She furrowed her brow, and held the phone out to Giles. “It’s for you. It’s someone English.”

Giles sixth sense hummed steadily. This is it, this is the apocalypse I’ve been expecting. “Rupert Giles here.”

A shiver ran down his spine as a voice he’d hoped never to hear again spoke up. “Ah, Rupert. Good to hear from you. It’s been too long...”

The watcher took the phone in his hand, and made his way away out of Scooby earshot. “Not long enough. Cut the pleasantries, Travers--why are you calling?”

The pompous voice chuckled. “Always a man of business, Rupert--no time for false niceties. That’s why I like you.” Abruptly, the humour in Travers‘ voice dissipated. “Something’s come up, something of dire importance...”

As his former employer began to explain, Giles’ stomach felt like it was filled with lead. “Oh dear. Just a moment.”

He turned to the group of teens, who were trying very hard not to show that they were eavesdropping. “Er, why don’t we call it a night? You’ve been working very hard lately, and you deserve a break. Don’t worry about the books, I’ll put them away before I leave.” He’d hardly finished speaking before the last retreating figure slammed the door shut, and he was alone.

Giles turned his attention back to the interrupted conversation. “Now, about this prophecy...”

***

As they entered the Bronze, the Scoobies felt the beat of the music flow through them, washing away their stress. Giles had been working them hard, and they had been more than happy to oblige when he’d suggested calling it an early night. They’d decided that spending an evening at their favourite hangout was the best remedy. As Xander often quipped, “Milk might do a body good, but dancing is good for the soul...”

They found an unoccupied table and Xander headed to the bar for some much needed refreshments.

“So, were either of you able to make out who was on the phone with Giles?” Willow was the first to speak. “I was too far away, but it seemed pretty serious.”

“I heard him call the man Travers before he walked away to where I couldn’t hear him.” Anya sighed. “All this secrecy is silly, if you ask me. It‘s another of those human traits I don‘t think I‘ll ever catch on to, like tact--I don’t see what’s wrong with just saying what’s on your mind. All this bottling up of emotions can’t be good for you, you know. Anyway, it’s not like we know who this guy is, anyway.”

Ignoring the ex-demon’s prattling, Willow and Buffy zeroed in on the essential part of what she’d told them: “Travers?!”

Just as he was returning with their drinks, Xander overheard the girls talking; he let out a yelp, nearly spilling the colas in his hands. “Aargh--Travers? Where?!”

Buffy grabbed her drink before he did spill it. “Don’t worry, Xander--he’s not here. Anya was just telling us that that’s who Giles was on the phone with.”

The young man’s face didn’t change. “Yeah, but Travers here, or Travers back in merry ol’ England--either way it’s gonna be bad news, Buff. I doubt he called to share a Hallmark moment with Giles.”

“Well, we don’t really know that, do we?” Willow’s face fell under the gaze of her friends. “Well, we don’t! He could be calling to... to... to offer Giles his old job back!” She smiled broadly, proud to have thought of something logical. Her smile waned as the others looked at her skeptically. “OK, maybe not. But does anyone have a better idea?”

“Not really, but I’m hoping the Council isn’t planning on making another of their ‘Test the Slayer’ visits. Last time? Not so much fun. Knowing them, it’s probably another apocalypse.” Buffy had a gut feeling that the last idea was the most probable. How many apocalypses was one girl supposed to live through? Couldn’t Evil take a long, long, coffee break?

The silence at the table was broken when Anya suggested that they get up and dance. “They’re actually playing half-decent music, tonight. We might as well take advantage of it. Come, Xander.” She didn’t wait to see whether or not he wanted to dance. There was never room for discussion.

Xander raised his shoulders in an ‘oh well’ gesture, and followed his girlfriend into the crowd.

Willow finished the last of her Shirley Temple, hopped off her barstool, and looked at Buffy. “Well, I’m with them. I need to unwind. Coming?”

The Slayer’s gut still twisted with the feeling that something very bad was in the works. “Nah, I have to go to the washroom. I’ll sit this one out, Wills. Go out there, and I‘ll join you when I come back.”

***

On her way back from the ladies’ room, Buffy caught sight of a familiar silhouette at the pool tables.

She held to the shadows, watching him play against some poor college kid. ‘Play against’ wasn’t the right term; ‘beat the pants off of’ was more exact. It was obvious that the kid had never played much pool, as he missed what should have been an easy shot. This gave Spike the opportunity to sink his last balls, followed by the eight ball. She watched both men shake hands, followed by the younger man paying Spike. The vampire turned away from her, and sauntered to the table that held his drink. She decided it was time to make her presence known.

The blonde vamp beat her to it, though, and he addressed her with his back still to her. “You can come out, now, Slayer. I know you’re there.” He picked up his pack of smokes, and pulled one out.

She walked out to the pool table and stood there, hands on her hips. “Spike.” She spat his name out like it was poison.

He turned around, cigarette dangling from his lower lip. “Come to make sure I’m not cheating?” Fishing in his pocket for his lighter, he looked her up and down, smirking. “I see the Council still isn’t paying you--otherwise, you’d be able to afford a whole outfit instead of just half of one.” Leering, he added, “Not that I mind, pet.”

Buffy glared at him, and brought her arms out in front of herself in a self-conscious motion. “Shut up, Spike. You’re such a pig.”

“Ooh! Great comeback. Did you just come here to nag me, or is there a reason for your presence?” He lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply. Leaning back against the pool table he crossed his arms, mimicking the Slayer’s pose. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer.

Buffy caught herself looking at him. Wow--has he always been this fit? Why haven’t I ever noticed that chest, and those arms... Aargh! Spike is *not* sexy, he’s evil... and disgusting! Snapping out of it, she snorted. “Oh, yeah. Like it’s all about you. I just happened to be coming back from the washroom when I saw you taking that kid’s money. You really don’t have any scruples, do you?”

Spike looked at her like she’d grown a second head. Quietly, so that only she could hear, he pointed to himself and said: “Hello? Vampire, here. Conscience-free and enjoying every minute of it. If some college prat wants to bet me money that he can beat me, that’s his problem.”

He took another drag from his cigarette. “How else do you think I get money for smokes and beer? Work the night shift at the local burger joint?” He snickered at this last thought, finding much humour in it. “Anyway, you Scoobies are too poor to steal from anymore. I have to get my spending money somewhere else. You should be grateful.”

Buffy was incensed. “Oh, so we should thank you, now that you aren’t stealing from us?! What planet are you from, anyway?” She had to physically restrain herself from popping him one on the nose. That might work in an empty cemetery, but she doubted that hitting a patron in a crowded club wouldn’t go over well with the bouncers.

She leaned in towards him with a deadly look in her eye. “I’d better not come across you during patrol tonight, because this’ll be the last pack of cigarettes you’ll ever smoke.” She pulled the cigarette from his lip, and threw it to the ground, crushing it under her high-heeled boot.

“Hey!” Spike watched her retreating form with a scowl, lighting another smoke. “Bitch. Thinks she‘s better than the rest of us...”

***

Buffy found her friends on the dance floor, and let them know that she’d decided to go patrolling early. After her little confrontation with the vampire, she found herself needing to blow off some steam.

Staking a few vampires would do the job just fine...

Author's Note: Hey guys, hope you're enjoying! As usual, please read and review; they make the chappies come that much faster! This one's a bonus, even though only two fine readers reviewed chapter 1 (*pout*)...