Friday
The after-school meeting at the library appeared, for all intents and purposes, as every other had. Giles stood at the head of the table lecturing about the evils of the Hellmouth, while the Scoobies sat in their usual seats and listened.
However, it was clear today’s meeting wasn’t like any previous one. Although nobody addressed the tension felt due to Oz and Cordelia’s absence, undeniably the Scoobies had this on their minds, and each was handling it a little differently.
Xander actually seemed fine. He was back to his old self, offering up his usual brand of humor and failed attempts at witty commentary, all between mouthfuls of donuts.
As for Willow, she gave the impression of doing well, even going so far as taking notes during Giles’ spiel. Yet in spite of her outward cheerfulness, if they had looked more closely, they would’ve noticed her eyes repeatedly darting over to Oz’s now empty seat, as she bravely fought back tears.
Then there was Buffy. She sat next to the resilient Willow, with her palm cradling her cheek and her elbow resting on the table, as she stared at, or more to the fact through, her Watcher.
Buffy knew she should both be paying attention and more bothered about Cordelia and Oz’s absences, but she just couldn’t shake these lingering, pesky feelings from consuming her every thought.
She figured after giving Giles the skinny two days ago, she would’ve then been able to focus on the happier things in life, like a monster shoe sale at the mall.
Except thoughts of wedged sandals and kick-ass boots weren’t helping at all. Actually, not only were these feelings a complete buzz-kill to anything smile-worthy, but every day felt even suckier than the last.
“…After referencing and cross-referencing my books and outside resources, despite the usual weekly burden of vampires and the assorted additional demons, it appears we’ve earned a short reprieve, if you will. However, this does not mean we should neglect training or patrolling. I think tonight would be a perfect time to hone your skills with the quarterstaff. Don’t you agree, Buffy?”
When Giles’ expectant gaze landed on his Slayer, this prompted each Scooby to follow suit. Despite three sets of eyes on her, Buffy didn’t acknowledge their stares or Giles’ question. That was until Willow nudged Buffy with her foot, breaking her from her engrossing thoughts.
“Huh, what?”
Buffy blinked quickly and sat up straighter in her seat, as she tried to get her bearings. After she floundered for a few moments, Willow seemed to notice and took pity on her by attempting to discreetly tilt the notes in her direction. Buffy quickly scanned the page before facing her Watcher with a renewed confidence.
“I totally agree, Giles, with the, um, no slacking on patrolling or tracing.”
After hearing her own words, Buffy’s confused expression mirrored everyone else’s. She then noticed out of the corner of her eye, Willow blushing before she whispered softly out of the side of her mouth.
“That says training, not tracing.”
Buffy pulled the notebook further in front of her and looked more closely at the page then back up at her Watcher.
“Yeah, training—that’s what I meant! No slacking with my training, not tracing. I mean tracing, that doesn’t even make any sense. Now, if we were talking about an art project, and I was being lazy by tracing something instead of drawing it myself, then that would make perfect sense but—”
Giles removed his glasses and his ever-ready handkerchief, then started gently sweeping the soft cloth over his lenses, while appearing to tamp down his displeasure. He then returned his glasses to their rightful place.
“Buffy, after your explanation the other day, I fully understand why you are having a difficult time focusing. However, it is of the utmost importance you do. A lack of concentration on your part might result in—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, me upping the expiration date stamped on my forehead. But Giles, except for a few fledglings here and there, it’s been pretty quiet on the Hellmouth. So why doesn’t this earn me the right to be a little not here? Actually, I think this should earn me the right to be a lot not here. I mean like totally not here.”
Buffy noticed Giles’ brow furrowing in confusion, before adding, “Giles, it’s Friday night, and I deserve—we deserve, some much needed R and R in the form of mindless fun at the Bronze. Who’s with me?”
Buffy beamed a smile at the two other teens at the table, hoping her excitability would be catching.
“I don’t know, Buffy. I’m not really in a go-outy kinda mood. I’m more with the stay-inny part of life right now.” Willow glanced over to Oz’s empty seat once more before returning her eyes to Buffy.
Buffy turned in her seat to face her friend and placed her hand affectionately on top of Willow’s, whose arm was resting on the table.
“Will, I know things are really awful right now. Remember last year when I was acing breakup one-o-one? You helped me with all your words of wisdom. Now it’s my turn to help you. Well, not in the same way since I’m more the doer than the thinker in this friendship. So as the doer, my way is to give you some much needed fun in the form of shaking and shimming the night away.”
“I don’t know—”
Buffy knew Willow well enough that any hesitation on her part was a good sign of possibly giving in, so she kept pressing.
“It can be a whole girl’s-night-out thing. We can go back to my house, try on a bunch of clothes, eat some chocolaty goodness, and hit the Bronze later.”
Buffy watched, as Willow appeared to think it over. Then when Willow hesitantly smiled, Buffy knew she’d earned her get-out-of-jail-free card tonight. Yay! Triumphantly, Buffy stood from the table and started collecting her belongings while addressing the two males of the group.
“Xander, if you want, you can meet up with us later at the Bronze. And Giles, don’t worry, we can train with your giant toothpicks tomorrow. Now Willow, we have important girl things to do!”
Buffy was already making a bee-line for the exit while Willow stood, filled and closed up her backpack, and slid her arms into the straps of the bag. She draped her folded jacket over her forearm, and after giving Giles and Xander a small apologetic smile, jogged to catch up with Buffy.
All during the girls’ brief exchange and ultimate departure, Giles and Xander remained silent, but their expressions spoke volumes—one wore a look of utter confusion, the other a goofy grin.
“Well, sorry Giles, it looks like you’re flying solo tonight. Buffy had me at, “shaking and shimming the night away.” See ya!”
With that, Xander grabbed his jacket and backpack and hurried out of the library.
Giles watched the last teenagers’ exit before heading to his office. Once inside, he shut the door, walked over to his desk, and sat down. He leaned over and pulled out a small, pewter flask from the bottom drawer. He unscrewed the cap and forgoing a glass, swigged the hard liquor straight from the container.
“Bloody teenagers,” Giles groused while he loosened his tie, leaned back his chair, and propped his feet up on his desk.
For the first time in over a week, Buffy felt as if the burdening weight from all these mind-consuming thoughts and wretched feelings was finally gone.
This was so what I needed!
Xander was already sitting at their usual table when Buffy arrived an hour later with a still slightly hesitant Willow in tow. They were fashionably late, from a combination of Willow not wanting to change and Buffy searching for the perfect outfit.
In spite of the dozens of outfits Buffy offered Willow, she still couldn’t convince her to stray from the dark green denim overalls and stripped long-sleeved shirt she wore to school.
Buffy, on the other hand, had ditched her previous outfit and, after digging through the deepest recesses of her closet, had found what she now wore: a form fitting black leather skirt, an equally fitting deep crimson top, and knee-high black leather boots. To finish off the look, she chose an upswept hairdo with a few loose tendrils framing her face, bold, smoky eye makeup, and cherry-bomb lip-gloss.
Buffy knew she’d found the look she was going for after Willow almost choked on her own tongue when shown the final result. Now, why Buffy wanted this look was totally another question, and one she didn’t want to think about as she raised her arms above her head and let the sights and sounds of the Bronze flood her senses.
As she continued to dance, an overwhelming feeling swept over her. She had never felt anything like it before. It was as if every inch of her skin were on fire, and only another’s touch could quell the burning. Well, not just anyone, but a certain someone. Who this someone was, she hadn’t a clue.
With each song, this feeling consumed her further. Soon, it was as if each of her movements was deliberately made for the sole purpose of enticing this person to stake his claim. Several times, she’d felt the presence of a few brave boys attempting to get close. Yet none of them was whom she wanted, so they only received a cold shoulder. After awhile they soon took the hint and backed off.
Still she danced; her movements were like a siren’s song.
Then, like receiving a jolt of electricity, the unmistakable tingles alerting her that a vampire was nearby stilled her instantly. The Slayer inside rose up and tamped down the seductress, as she began intently scanning the room, searching for the vamp in question. Soon her gaze landed on a shadowy alcove.
Without wasting a moment, Buffy pushed her way through the writhing throng of dancing teens and headed over to that area. She only made it half-way to her destination before Angel stopped her.
“Buffy, we need to talk.”
Angel’s presence didn’t deter Buffy’s pursuit as she stepped around him and continued forward. Equally determined, Angel spun around and blocked her once more. This time he grabbed her by the upper arms, stilling her, before letting go.
“What?”
Buffy was well aware that her brash one-word question was drowned out by the music’s steady bass, but she was sure with his sensitive vampire hearing, Angel heard her irritation loud and clear.
Waiting for his answer, Buffy glared at Angel, her frustration rolling off her in waves. He responded by giving Buffy his classic apologetic/concerned look. Then, as always, she felt a twinge of guilt for being super bitchy, which ultimately led to her, against her better judgment, relenting to Angel’s request.
Buffy gave the shadowy alcove a parting glance while heading back to the table. Once there, she offered Willow and Xander a few parting words to ease their concern, before grabbing her clutch and heading toward the exit with Angel trailing behind.
On their way out, neither Buffy nor Angel noticed the owner of the intense predatory gaze from the shadows, emerging and following them.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
*waving* Hey! You have to forgive me for my impatience. I was planning to post this, and the remainder chapters, every Wednesday. However, my leg started to cramp and I just got so bored. So here it is, a day early! Before you go, a few things. Big thanks, as always, to my lovely betas Sanityfair and Diebirchen. Also another thanks to Sotia and Adrianiling for fixing my translations (stupid on-line translators screwing up my story!) Well, enough said, get to reading!
Chapter End Notes:
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