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Part 2
Joyce straightened the table cloth for the fourth time and stepped back to inspect her work.
"The good china." Buffy observed, "He's not royalty, you know, Mom."
"I guess it's just a coincidence that you're wearing your good party dress then, is it?" She turned the table's centerpiece, a small stone statuette, a quarter turn and frowned, considering it carefully, "You never tell me anything about your boyfriends and I think it's time you started."
"There's not really anything to tell." Buffy hedged, looking herself over in a narrow, full length mirror on the wall. "A-and he's not my boyfriend."
Joyce eyed her incredulously.
"I think." Buffy reconsidered uncertainly.
"I'm tired of feeling left out of your life, Buffy." Her mother paused, adjusting the table cloth once again. "And if you really like this boy, I want to be able to share it with you."
"I know, Mom." Buffy sighed, "Just, please, don't do anything to embarrass me."
"What could I do to embarrass you?" Joyce returned, smoothing her hands over the table cloth yet again, "All I want to do is get to know him a little better, so I'll actually have an idea of who you're keeping company with these days."
"That's what I'm afraid of." Buffy murmured.
Her nervousness and frustration mounted as she continued to watch her mother fret over the tablecloth.
"Will you leave that thing alone? It's fine, Mom, trust me. A few wrinkles aren't going to make him run away screaming." She checked the mirror again self consciously and rubbed petulantly at a small series of wrinkles along the side of her dress.
The doorbell rang and both women started. Buffy reacted first, quickly going to the door and opening it. Gabriel stood waiting with both hands behind his back. He wore black, pleated pants and a burgundy, V-neck shirt that accented the auburn of his hair.
"This is for you." He held out a single red rose in one hand and smiled.
"It's beautiful." She accepted the flower gratefully and touched the blossom against her upper lip, inhaling deeply. She luxuriated in the sweet scent and the tickling feel of the silken petals against her lips.
"And this is for you." He offered a second rose, this one dusky yellow, to Joyce.
"Oh, thank you," she smiled, taking the flower in her hand, "I'll go put this in some water and get supper. Is pasta okay with you, Gabriel?"
"Sure."
She took the rose into the kitchen, leaving Gabriel and Buffy alone for the moment.
"You look great." He smiled at her a little uneasily.
"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." She toyed nervously with the rose, drawing it softly along the bottom edge of her lower lip. "You want to sit down?"
She sat down at the table, laying the rose across her lap while he took the seat opposite her.
"This isn't going to be that bad." she promised with a comforting smile, noting his tense expression, "My Mom's a pussycat, honest."
"Oh, I'm not worried about her." he smirked, "Moms love me."
Joyce returned from the kitchen with a plate of steaming linguine in one hand and a small glass jar containing the yellow rose in the other. She set the plate down in front of Gabriel and placed the rose next to the statuette centerpiece. After a short return trip to the kitchen, she brought back two more plates and, after placing one in front of Buffy, sat down next to her.
"So, Gabriel," she started before she even lifted her fork, "Are you vacationing here with your parents?"
Buffy felt her stomach take a slow, sickening roll to the left and she cringed at the question. Less than thirty seconds into the meal and her mother was already treading on forbidden territory.
"No, I'm not on vacation. I'm here by myself, staying with my uncle." He answered slowly, "I never knew my mother. And my father, he . . .he passed away. . . a-a few months ago."
His features tensed with remembered pain and Buffy's heart went out to him. She remembered how devastated he had been after his father's death and how the pain of his loss had forced him into a three month, self imposed quest, searching for . . . something.
"I'm sorry," Joyce apologized, disconcerted. "I had no idea."
"It's all right. I've had some time to get used to the idea." He assured her, reaching out to finger the small statuette, "That's an interesting sculpture. Where did you get it?"
"Oh, it's Mongolian." Joyce blurted, happy for the change in subject, "I work at an art gallery. Sometimes, I can get certain pieces for a discount. This one went up for sale last week. Isn't it marvelous?"
"It's very nice." He smiled warmly, a peculiar look in his eyes, like he was enjoying a private joke.
Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. That was one disaster narrowly averted.
"How did you and Buffy meet?" Joyce went on, "Are you starting college with her in the fall?"
"No." he slipped a neat bundle of noodles into his mouth and swallowed, "Actually, I've never been to school. My father always kept me too busy."
Joyce's fork froze, half way to her mouth.
"Excuse me?" she gaped in shock, "You've never been to school? How do you plan to get a job?"
Buffy's respite proved all too brief and her stomach lurched back to the right.
"I guess I'll have to work somewhere that values what I can do more than what some piece of paper says I can do." He shrugged, unconcerned, gathering up another forkful.
"But how much can you know if you never went to school?" Joyce pressed, "Education is very important these days."
Buffy groaned inwardly. Of all the times for her mother to get sanctimonious, why now?
Gabriel put his fork down and regarded Buffy's mother seriously.
"I know enough to tell you that that sculpture isn't Mongolian." He said with a mild edge to his voice.
"What?" Joyce was taken aback.
"It's Tibetan. See those three grooves along the bottom there?" He traced a fingertip across three, almost imperceptible lines across the base of the statuette. "The monks used to place them on metal tripods outside the entrances to their temples. When the Mongols swept through the region, they collected them as trophies. Later, they started making their own cheap imitations without the grooves. This is probably worth a good deal more than you paid for it."
Joyce opened her mouth to say something, then shut it, too stunned to form a coherent reply.
"I told you that I never went to school," he winked mischievously at her, smirking, "not that I was uneducated. Could you please pass the pepper?"
"Sure." She handed the pepper grinder to him absently, a blank expression still pasted to her face.
Buffy looked down at her plate, picking at the suddenly unappetizing food. This was going to be the longest meal of her life.
A half hour later, Buffy stood with a damp drying towel in her hands while Gabriel scrubbed industriously at the last of a sinkful of dishes.
"Well it could have gone worse, I guess." Buffy lamented aloud, accepting a dripping plate from Gabriel and drying it with the rough dish towel. "I mean there could have been an earthquake in my living room or something, right?"
"Don't worry about it, Buffy." He borrowed the end of her towel and dried his hands. "Like I said, Moms love me. She'll come around."
"I don't know." She answered dubiously, "She's having a hard time getting comfortable with the whole Slayer business, meaning that she's not. New things sometimes bring out her insanely overprotective side."
The kitchen door swung open and Joyce brought in the last of the dishes. She looked to Buffy, then, uncomfortably, to Gabriel before setting them on the counter.
A tense silence gripped the room as she paused before him, about to speak. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully before committing them to sound, the way a person does before delivering bad news. Gabriel stood his ground calmly while Buffy held her breath, waiting for yet another awkward moment to unfold.
By some stroke of divine providence, the doorbell rang. Joyce hesitated before leaving to answer it.
"You better make a run for it now while you have the chance." Buffy advised, leading Gabriel by the arm toward the back door. "Maybe you can make a clean getaway under the cover of darkness."
"Buffy," he stopped, shaking his head, "I am NOT running away from your mother. We just got off to a bad start, that's all."
"This isn't your fault." She apologized, leaning over the sink. "She's just mad at me because of the way things went with Angel. I know from her point of view it must have seemed pretty horrible, but now she thinks every guy I meet is going to break my heart."
"I'd never break your heart." He promised, his voice soft and serious.
She smiled to herself, stepping a little closer to him without realizing it. He touched the fingertips of one hand along one of her arms. She looked up at him, breathing in deeply, her body instinctively moving half a step closer.
There was a sharp bang from the front room and Buffy jumped, startled.
She quickly turned and pushed through the door into the dining room and found the front door wide open with a note pinned to it by a thin nail. Buffy plucked the note from the door and the blood drained from her face as she read it.
"What is it?" Gabriel peered over her shoulder.
"Spike." She breathed fearfully, "Last time he was here, my mother invited him in. Now, he has her."
Gabriel dashed out the door without an instant of hesitation. "Come on, he hasn't had time to get very far. Maybe we can catch him. Where would he take her?"
"Angel's mansion." She quickly caught up to him, "or maybe the old factory."
"Lead the way."
Joyce struggled against the ropes that bound her to the old wooden chair. She was positioned against the back wall of a room in Angel's old home, not far from her two captors. One, a dark haired woman, circled her curiously, singing softly to herself while the other brooded impatiently, sitting backwards in his own chair. Orange light flickered from the fireplace, casting harsh shadows about the room.
"Can I eat her, Spike?" the dark haired woman asked politely.
"Not until the Slayer shows up, Dru." Spike waggled an admonishing finger at her, "We can't set a trap if I let you eat the bait."
"Ohhhh!" she moaned in disappointment, slumping into a chair next to his and staring at Joyce with hunger burning in her eyes. "But she looks so tasty."
Joyce's eyes flew wide with terror and she worked at her bonds with frenzied energy. Spike watched her absently as she fidgeted, boredom apparent on his face.
"Keep squirming like that and you'll only entice her." He warned pointedly.
Joyce stopped moving instantly, her eyes darting fearfully between her captors' faces.
"They should be here by now." Spike grumbled, rising sharply to his feet. "You're sure you figured out the spell we need from that book we stole from the old library? Everything is ready?"
Drusilla jerked her fingers back away from Joyce's throat and quickly folded her hands together in her lap, looking innocently up at him.
"I put out all the party favors." She grinned, holding the Orb of Thesulah in one hand, "But I want to cut the cake." Unconsciously, she reached out again toward their captive.
There was a loud thump and the front door crashed open. Gabriel dove through, rolling and coming up in the center of the room with a wooden stake in each hand. Drusilla jumped back, hissing angrily, and Spike moved protectively to her side. Buffy came running through the doorway, leaping over a dusty chair and kicking Spike in the chest, driving him back against the fireplace.
"Mom!" she went immediately to her mother's side and started tugging at her ropes.
"Oh, Buffy, I'm so glad to see you." Joyce leaned forward so her daughter could get at the ropes around her wrists.
"Try and remember this the next time I ask for the car, okay?" Buffy commented wryly as she fumbled with the tight knots.
Gabriel smashed his fist into Spike's throat and spun into a roundhouse kick that caught the vampire in the side. The seventh son reached into the fire and drew out a flaming length of wood, sweeping it before him in a wide swath. Drusilla backed away, trembling, her eyes locked fearfully on the burning brand. With a snarl, Spike grabbed up a blocky end table and whipped it overhand with all his strength. The piece of furniture bounced painfully off Gabriel's shoulder, knocking him to the floor. The burning wood skittered against the stone hearth and guttered down and went out.
"Come on, Dru!" Spike shouted as Gabriel hopped to his feet and tackled him, "Quit whimpering and do the damn spell already!"
Drusilla, staring paralyzed at the combatants, snapped back to attention. Digging the Orb of Thesulah out of her pocket, she intoned the words to a short spell and sprinkled a handful of sand over it. Dull yellow light flared inside the orb, casting stark shadows across her face from below.
Buffy lost her patience with the last of the ropes binding her mother and snapped it cleanly. Pulling her mother up, she shoved her hastily toward the door. Joyce stumbled a few feet and hung, unsure, in the doorway.
"Run, Mom!" Buffy shouted and turned back, coming face to face with Drusilla.
"The candles are lit, dearie." The mad vampire giggled, "Now it's time to blow them out."
She tossed the orb and Buffy instinctively caught it in her hands. The light inside it flared brightly and a wave of disorienting weakness washed over her. She dropped weakly to one knee with a groan, the orb slipping from her fingers and rolling away along the floor. Drusilla stumbled dizzily and collapsed against the wall with a squeak.
Spike wrestled out of Gabriel's tenacious grip and saw her fall.
"Dru!" he cried, backhanding Gabriel viciously and scrambling to his lover's side.
"Buffy!" Gabriel and Joyce both cried out.
Gabriel ran to Buffy as she sank the rest of the way to the floor, and squared off with Spike, bracing himself, his hands open and ready. Spike matched his stance, rage burning in his eyes, but made no move. Between them, Drusilla and Buffy lay side by side, dazed and weak.
"I'm within a foot of bagging my third Slayer." Spike glared at him, inching dangerously close to Buffy.
"And I'm within a foot of separating your head from your shoulders." Gabriel bared his teeth threateningly, ready to intercept him.
"Then it looks like we've got a stalemate." Spike crouched slowly and gathered Drusilla into his arms.
"For now." Gabriel agreed darkly, mirroring his movements and scooping up Buffy's limp form.
Both men backed carefully away from one another, each holding his respective interest in his arms and keeping his eyes locked warily on the other. Gabriel paused in the open doorway, Joyce standing just behind him.
"This isn't over." He promised, his eyes narrowed angrily.
"Yeah, whatever, punk." Spike sneered condescendingly as he and Drusilla retreated deeper into the mansion.
Gabriel backed out the door, curling Buffy's half-conscious body against his chest and tugging on Joyce's sleeve with one finger.
"We'd better get you to my uncle's place." he advised, "You'll be safe there."
Giles walked across the kitchen and took the steaming teapot off the stove. Gabriel and Buffy were in the next room relaxing on an antique couch, leaving him and Joyce alone.
"Would you care for more tea?" Giles offered, as he poured himself another cup.
"Yes, please." Joyce answered from her seat at his kitchen table. As he refilled her cup, she wrapped her hands around it and let the warmth seep into her palms. "I guess I won't have to worry about the caffeine keeping me awake."
"No," he agreed, replacing the pot on the stove, "I imagine not. I still can't believe that Spike would attempt something so bold without a particular reason. Are you sure you don't remember anything that might shed some light on this?"
"I don't think so." Joyce frowned, "It all happened so fast. After that woman knocked Buffy out, we ran and came straight here." She paused to peer into the next room at her daughter sitting on the couch, resting her head against Gabriel's shoulder, subdued and quiet. "I hope she'll be all right."
"I'm sure she'll recover in no time." Giles assured her, taking the seat opposite her, "This was probably just a bit of a fright, that's all."
"Well, it was certainly frightening for me." She sighed and took a tentative sip of her tea.
"Of course, both of you will stay here until we can revoke Spike's invitation to your home. I'll take the couch and Gabriel can set up the cot for himself. You and Buffy can take our rooms. After tonight, we could all use the rest."
As he sipped from his teacup, he glanced into the next room at his nephew.
"How do you feel?" Gabriel stroked his fingertips through Buffy's soft blonde hair as she curled drowsily against his shoulder.
"Drained." She answered tiredly, "And my head is killing me. Is-is Mom okay?"
"Yeah," he smiled, "She's in the kitchen with Uncle Rupert. Probably a bit shaken up, but that's all."
"You took a bad fall back there." He watched her with concern, "What happened?"
"I don't know." She squinted, holding her head, "Drusilla threw this glowing ball at me and when I caught it, I felt like I was being yanked out of my body. Then I snapped back and everything went all blurry."
She struggled to sit up, but her body did not want to comply. After two unsuccessful efforts, she surrendered and sat back against him.
"I feel so weak and tired." She rubbed gingerly at her temples. "And my head . . .it feels like somebody put a blender between my ears and turned it on frappe."
"Here, let me see if I can help." He took her hand in both of his and began tracing a fingertip softly along her palm.
"What are you doing?" she inhaled sharply, feeling the electric tingle of his touch all the way up the length of her arm.
"Acupressure." He smiled, drawing a second caressing fingertip slowly back from her wrist to the center of her palm. "It will make you feel better. Is that okay?"
"I-I guess so." She leaned her head against his shoulder and allowed her eyes to sag shut as his careful ministrations evoked relaxing waves of calm within her.
Tracing his two fingers along the inside of her forearm, he nestled them softly into the crook of her elbow and pressed down slightly.
"Ouch!" she exclaimed, sitting up slightly and her eyes snapping open, "That . . .feels nice."
"I TOLD you." He reminded her with a wry smile, "Now relax or you'll mess up your meridians."
"I hate it when that happens." she mocked quietly, laying her head against his shoulder and allowing her eyes to close again with a contented smile.
He continued to move his fingertips up along the outside of her arm, pressing down and holding at strategic points, until he reached her neck.
"This s'posed to m'k me sleepy?" she mumbled with a slurred, drowsy voice as he massaged the base of her skull and the back of her neck.
"Yeah," he whispered gently into her ear. "But I bet you don't have a headache anymore, do you?"
She rolled toward him and pressed her face sleepily against his chest. "Mmmm, I like my meridians."
He sat with her for a long time, calmly stroking his fingers through her hair until her breathing slowed and he was sure she had fallen asleep. Carefully, he slipped out from under her slumbering body and eased her into a comfortable position. He smiled softly as she stirred and mumbled something unintelligible under her breath. She looked so beautiful sleeping soundly like this. But his heart grew heavy as he looked more closely, focusing his special vision.
He walked to the kitchenette's doorway and hovered there uneasily. Joyce and his uncle were carrying on a subdued conversation over tea. The pot sat almost empty on a cool burner of the stove.
"Uncle, could I have a word with you?" he asked quietly.
"How is Buffy? Is she all right?" He handed his nephew a lukewarm cup, which he accepted gratefully. "Here, have some tea."
"She's fine. She finally went to sleep just a minute ago." Gabriel took a long swallow of his tea, stress and exhaustion showing on his face.
"What about you?" Giles inquired, "Joyce said Spike gave you a bit of a drubbing."
"Nothing serious. Just a bruised shoulder." He replied nonchalantly, although Giles could see that the joint was already stiff and swollen, "I would have dusted him if we didn't have to escape at the last minute like that."
"Spike is not an easy kill, as I'm sure you know. We'll get him one of these days." Giles sympathized, "Are you sure your shoulder is alright?"
"It'll be fine in a day or two." He assured him, "But that's not what I'm worried about."
"What is it?" Joyce looked at him, concern tensing her features, "Is something wrong?"
"I looked at Buffy, I mean REALLY looked at her, and it was like she was just an ordinary girl." He looked to his uncle gravely, "Her powers are gone."
"What do you mean, 'gone'?" Giles exclaimed, stunned.
"I mean gone, as in no longer in her possession." Gabriel clarified, "Someone's stolen them. And I'll give you three guesses on who."
"Dear God, you don't think Drusilla. . .?" Giles considered grimly, "This is terrible."
"What?" Joyce's expression shifted from concern to a mixture of fear and near-hysterical confusion, "What's terrible?"
Giles slipped his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose with a strained sigh.
"When a human with extraordinary potential, like Buffy or Gabriel, becomes a vampire, he or she is transformed into being of great power." He took a sip of his tea with a shaky hand, "These 'Master Vampires', as they are called, are atrocious engines of destruction. I have only ever encountered one in my life and his power had been crippled, thank heaven."
"But Drusilla wasn't born with the power." Gabriel frowned in thought, "She couldn't just change into a master vampire just like that, could she?"
"I don't know." Giles shook his head, "There are too many variables. I've never even heard of this type of thing ever having happened before. Who knows what effect a Slayer's power would have when infused into a vampire body?"
"I can feel the whole world inside my head, Spike." Drusilla grinned, her eyes closed, as she spun in slow circles around the room with her arms spread wide.
They were in the old bedroom they had occupied while they were living in the mansion alongside Angelus. Drusilla's worn and bedraggled doll lay lifeless on the bed, its limbs spread haphazardly. Spike leaned with his back against the wall, next to a black-painted window, watching his dark lover curiously.
"You're sure it worked, then?" His eyes followed her erratic movements eagerly. "I thought you might have been done for after you were knocked flat like that."
"I never knew it could be like this. So much power." She caught the doll by its tattered dress as she spun and carried it along with her. "Miss Edith thinks that it looks very becoming on me, don't you agree Spike?"
"Everything looks good on you, Luv." He smiled.
"Hmmmmhhh," she sighed, pleased at the compliment, "I can see things now, Spike, things that were never there before. The air is sparkling right in front of my eyes."
She crouched facing into the corner, crossing her eyes at a small, shiny black spider as it crawled about in its web.
"Look," she whispered, noting a small, struggling fly trapped in the web, "It's feeding time. I can hear it screaming, like a tiny bell in my head."
"What say we go test out your new powers, Dru," He suggested, subtly easing her away from the tiny display of carnage. If left alone, she would have stayed there entranced for hours. "We can scare up something for US to eat."
Drusilla's hand shot out faster than his eye could follow and grabbed him roughly by the hair on the back of his head. Pulling him close with a steely grip, she wrapped her arm tightly about his waist, pinning his upper limbs. Leering, she bent his head to the side and exposed the length of his neck, her face transformed into a vampiric mask.
"Um, Dru," Spike struggled uselessly against her incredible strength, a worried quaver in his voice, "this isn't what I meant."
"What's the matter, Spike?" she pressed her cheek close to his ear and drew her pointed teeth across the tender skin of his neck. "Don't you like it when I'm hungry for you?"
Carrying him easily with one hand, she dragged him up and tossed him back across the old bed, crawling eagerly up on top of him. With a lascivious grin, she tore open the front of his shirt and caressed the palms of her hands roughly against his chest.
"Drusilla!" he exclaimed in amazement, "I haven't seen you like this for ages!"
"Quiet, Spike!" she grabbed each of his wrists and pinned them roughly over his head, burying her face in his neck, "I'll tell you when you can speak."
"I can't believe this." He marveled quietly to himself, as she nipped and giggled against him, "I'm about to get shagged by the Slayer."
Birds chirped happily and the sun beamed with beautiful warmth as Buffy, Gabriel, Xander and Willow made their way purposely down the street. Each of them carried a bag stuffed with weapons, consisting mainly of sharpened wooden stakes and holy water.
"Let me get this straight," Xander scratched his head in confusion, "You lost your powers last night and now you WANT to find vampires? Does Giles know you're doing this?"
"I told him we were going over to Willow's, which was true." She said over her shoulder, "I just didn't mention where we were going afterward."
"So where ARE we going?" he reached inside his bag and withdrew a stake, "Judging by the toys you two brought over, I'm guessing it's no place fun."
"Spike and Drusilla have set up shop in their old stomping grounds. They probably moved to a new lair by now," Buffy surmised as they approached Angel's old mansion, "but we might get lucky and catch them."
"Forgive me if I don't consider that lucky." He spread his hands and shrugged helplessly.
"Xander's right." Gabriel touched his hand to her shoulder, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," she asserted a little testily, pressing onward regardless, "I thought we went over this when you agreed to come with me. Powers or not, this is still my responsibility."
"I thought you'd say something like that." He smirked appreciatively at her.
"So that explains why you called us for back-up." Willow reasoned, mounting the first step up to the mansion's front door, "And the need for a daytime raid. But why such a big rush? You said yourself that Spike and Drusilla aren't going anywhere. Shouldn't we wait until Giles finds a way to get your powers back?"
The door hung slightly ajar, it's frame broken from when Gabriel had burst through the night before.
"They took my mother last night, Will." Buffy flicked the door open with her toe and poked her head inside, "We got her back, but I'm not going to give them the chance to try anything like that again."
Gabriel held the door while Buffy entered with Xander and Willow close behind. He followed and, together, they slowly combed the ground level, opening each door and looking inside.
"Nothing." Buffy's mouth turned down as she opened the last door. "Upstairs, anyone?"
"I'll go first." Gabriel readied a stake and started up the stairs. "If Spike is up there, he's mine."
Buffy readied herself for action as he turned the knob on the first door and threw it open. Her eyes went wide as she saw the condition of the bedroom.
"Whoa, what happened HERE?" Xander gawked over her shoulder.
The room was a shambles. The bedsheets had been shredded and there were long, deep claw marks gouged out of the wall near the headboard. One of the pillows had been cast aside into the closet while the other had apparently been ripped apart, leaving a scattering of feathers everywhere.
Buffy's face screwed up into a distasteful expression as realization dawned on her.
"Ew. Ew. Ew." She repeated in disgust as she fled for the front door. "Maybe I should have listened to you guys and just stayed away from this place. I think I'm scarred for life now."
"What?" Xander raised his eyebrows as Gabriel and Willow hurried to catch up with her. He gestured confusedly to the disheveled room. "You mean Drusilla? And Spike? Man, even the undead get more trim than I do!"
The four quickly exited the mansion and emerged into the warm, sunny outdoors.
"Well, That was a bust." Buffy lamented, "What now?"
"Might I suggest that we put our vampire worries on the back shelf for now and do something fun for a change." Xander hefted his bag in one hand, "Maybe something that doesn't involve weapons?"
"I don't know . . ." Buffy hedged uncertainly.
"Oh, come on!" Xander playfully slapped a hand to her shoulder. "It'll get your mind off things."
"Like the fact that I'm powerless now?" Buffy stopped and looked at him seriously.
"Powerless?" Xander choked, "Who's worried about that? I mean it's not like there are two psycho vampires back in town, right?"
The other three turned their gazes on him skeptically.
"Right." He nodded agreeably, "I'm shutting up."
Gabriel took Buffy's hand in his.
"We'll get your powers back." He assured her, "I promise. But the chances of finding Spike and Drusilla again are next to nothing unless they show their faces again. Maybe a little recreation wouldn't be such a bad idea right now."
She smiled and her face relaxed. The tone of his voice was so confident. She found it very calming and reassuring.
"I guess you're right." She considered, "Hey, it's the summer, I'm supposed to be having fun, right?"
"That's the spirit!" Willow chirped. "But what do you want to do?"
"It's getting pretty hot." Gabriel squinted up at the bright blue sky, "Is there any place to swim around here?"
"Yeah, Misty Falls." Xander suggested, "It's this secret place I know about. It's over by the-"
"No!" Willow blurted, cutting him off, "XanDERR!
"Oh, come off it, Will." He scoffed, "That was like ten years ago. Besides, I'm sure it's still not alive anymore."
"It that EVER the wrong thing to say in the proximity of a Hellmouth." Buffy reminded him, her face clouded with worry.
"Is there something there, Willow?" Gabriel asked, "It sounds like such a nice place."
Buffy and Gabriel both visibly calmed.
"Guess we can gear down from combat mode." Buffy chuckled, prodding Willow teasingly.
"Whuh, well, it was really BIG!" Willow insisted, "A-and it . . .it jumped!"
"I promise we'll leave the minute we see anything green and slimy." Buffy assured her.