Rating: FRT Pairing: Buffy/Giles, Xander/Anya, Oz/Drusilla, Joyce/Kryten, Amy/? Spoilers: Through Graduation, then everything goes a bit cockeyed. General spoilers for the series Red Dwarf. Specific spoilers for the episode Dimension Jump. Summary: A strange and continuing adventure wherein the members of the Red Dwarf crew arrive on Earth and meet the Scoobies. Thanks: Special thanks to Gail for the quick and amazingly painless beta. Warning: Sillyfic. Very, very sillyfic. With a side of disturbing. And a dollop of romance. Dedication: To Joanna for breeding this truly psychotic plotbunny, and to my beloved Twisted Sister Fabrisse who receives all blame and all praise for the fact that this is going to be yet another smegging series. When I get to Hell for this one, I'll save you a seat at my table. Fabrisse would also like to point out that she is in no way responsible for Lister's shorts. Author's Notes: This comes courtesy of a very old challenge set by Joanna for sillyfic. Among the requirements are: an improbable crossover, an improbable romantic pairing, Anya, a Star Trek reference, a man in women's clothing, a gummi creature other than bears or worms, a talking computer with a personality, the concept of alternate universes, and Giles in a major role. She further wishes a statement as to assumptions made in the fic to avoid fanwanking. Assume that nothing beyond S3 of BtVS has happened. In fact, this takes place during the summer after Graduation. Assume that Anya has come back or never left. Either way, she wants Xander and she's got him. Assume that sometime shortly after Graduation, Willow and Oz broke up and he is now dating Drusilla, though nobody quite gets the attraction. Assume that if Spike is ever in town, he will be sans chip, sans soul, and will never, ever have either one under any circumstances. But he's not in this one. Assume that Giles and Buffy have upped their training schedule and she now spends a lot of time hanging around his place. Assume that Holly is the male version. Assume that Rimmer is a hard light hologram. Assume that little of social or literary merit is likely to take place in this series. That is all. Dave Lister emerged from his green, insectiod-shaped spaceship. He looked around at the strange scene. Lifting his wrist, he consulted his watch. "So where are we, Hol?" A bland face appeared where the digital read-out ought to be. If there had been shoulders visible, Dave thought he might have shrugged. "It's definitely a planet," Holly averred. "I can tell you that right off." "Yeah, but what planet?" "You wouldn't want to guess, would you?" "No. Just tell me where the smeg I am." "We could play twenty questions," the computer suggested. "I'll even give you a hint: it's bigger than a breadbox." "Yeah, I had that one worked out on me own, thanks." Dave switched off the computer and took another look around. The scene looked like something out of a history book - the sort he'd lovingly defaced at school. Back then, he'd mostly drawn Hitler mustaches on all the women and given all the male figures hairy palms to represent an overindulgence in self-abuse. "Hang on a minute! This looks like Earth! But where? And when?" Holly blinked back on. "See? I knew you'd suss it out," he said smugly. With a heartfelt roll of his eyes, Dave switched the computer off again. He looked around yet again. "Where are all the people?" he wondered. "It can't be completely deserted, can it?" Just then, a figure appeared. It was about the size of a small man and covered in fur. It had very, very sharp-looking teeth... and a lot of them. The creature sniffed the air nastily as it neared Dave. Lister backed up against a wall. "Nice doggy," he soothed the advancing beast. "Please, please tell me you just want to hump my leg." The creature snarled in return. It crouched. Dave tried to back up further yet, but the wall refused to cooperate. He screwed his eyes shut and waited for the end. It didn't come. Instead, there came the soft whiz of a projectile through the air and the slight whimper of the beast as he was felled by it. Dave cautiously opened one eye. Before him, he saw two young girls. One was blonde. The other was a redhead toting a tranq gun almost as big as she was. "Got him!" she crowed. "Good shot, Will," the other replied. She turned her attention to the stranger. "You okay?" Lister nodded. He didn't yet feel certain any sound he made wouldn't be a girlie, Rimmeresque scream. "You're sure?" the blonde asked. "'Cause you look a little freaked." "You think he's freaked?" came a small voice from Lister's wrist. "I nearly wet myself." "You don't have a bladder, Hol," Lister told his watch. "Exactly," the computer said with a wise nod. "Who are you and why do you keep talking to your arm that way?" the blonde asked. "Well, who are you and what did you do to the great slobberbeast?" "That's not a slobberbeast," the redhead said. "That's my ex-boyfriend. And we only tranquilized him till we can get him back in his cage. His new girlfriend keeps letting him out." "You dated Cujo?" "He's not like that all the time. Most of the time he's human - or at least a musician." "So he's...a werewolf?" The girls looked at one another with raised eyebrows. They turned back to Dave and nodded. "Yup," the blonde said. "That's about the size of it." "Brutal." "So," the blonde continued, "want to help us get Lassie home?" "Yeah, why not?" The blonde girl took hold of the werewolf by the shoulders, Dave took its back legs. The redhead shouldered her weapon and led the way. * * * * * Giles growled in frustration at Willow's laptop. He'd been trying to search the internet for information on a museum in Brussels. He resisted the urge to toss the offending machine through his front window. "Brussels! Brussels!" he yelled. "I don't want bloody porn sites written in Urdu!" He'd barely managed to find his way back to a less compromising screen when the door burst open. "Hey Giles!" Buffy called. "We brought our stray home. Oh, and we picked up a helpful stranger." Giles slammed the laptop shut and glared at his Slayer. "You do realize that yours is a secret as well as a sacred calling, don't you?" "Oz is heavier than he looks," she shrugged. "Besides," Willow added, "he's not from around here." "What difference does that make?" "He wafts from star to star, bringing destruction with him," crooned a voice from the shadows. "And now he brings my doggie home to Mummy." "Yes, thank you, Drusilla," Giles said wearily. "Perhaps someone would be so kind as to let me know who this man is and where he's from?" "Lister, Dave," the man in question said, extending his hand. "I'm from the future, off the mining ship, Red Dwarf. Well, Starbug just now. Holly and me came down as a scouting party." "And Holly would be...?" Giles asked as he took the proffered hand. "Ship's computer with an IQ of six thousand," came a tinny voice just above Lister's wrist. "Really? S-six thousand?" "I wouldn't worry, Brainman," Buffy said blithely, "Nobody can find the obscure like you." "I resent that remark," the computer said. "I can be as obscure as the next aardvark." "Computer senility," Dave whispered conspiratorially. "He's all right most of the time, though." "You say you're the scout party," Giles said. "What of the rest of the crew. How many are you?" "Well, there's me, Rimmer - he's an insane hologram, Cat who's... a cat, only bigger and more human-shaped, and Kryten. He's a Series Four Thousand Mechanoid and me mate. We've been trying to get back to Earth for six million years. Now, here we are. And only a couple hundred years before I was born. Brutal." Willow watched Giles massage the bridge of his nose. "I'll make some tea," she suggested. "I'll tie up our stray doggie," Buffy said. "Bathtub, Giles?" She dragged the unconscious wolf behind her. "If you must," he sighed. "Just be sure to draw the shower curtain. And somebody escort Drusilla out of here. It isn't my turn to watch her." "Where's Xander?" Willow asked from the kitchenette. "Off with Anya. I begged them not to tell me what they were up to, but she did. Repeatedly. In appalling detail." "I guess I'm on vampduty tonight, then," she sighed. "Xander always sticks me with it on wolfie nights." "We bay at the moon together and the stars all dance a happy jig," Drusilla crooned. She stopped her twirling suddenly in front of Lister. "My Oz is soft and furry and violent. What are you?" "Ehm, not so furry as him and a lot less inclined to eat people, thanks very much." "I could make it so you long for the kill as much as we do," the vampiress crooned as she ran her fingers through Lister's dreadlocks. "I could make you crave blood. Would you like that?" Giles yanked Drusilla away. "He's our guest," he said firmly. "No turning him. Willow, would you kindly remove this creature?" The redhead took aim with her tranq gun. The vampiress hissed and slid into game face, but made no move to avoid the dart. "I don't like this game anymore," she whined as the drugs took effect. A second later, she slid to the floor and Willow dragged her out none too gently. "Tea?" Giles offered. "You wouldn't have a lager, would you?" Lister asked. "Do you have someplace to stay?" his host asked as he rummaged in his refrigerator for the requested beer. At last he found one and handed it over. "Ta. I guess I could just nip back up to the Dwarf, but I've been looking for Earth for six million years. I'd like to kip down here on the planet tonight, if I could. Have a curry, watch some zero-g football, hang with some real Earth people. Like that." He popped the top on his beer and allowed the foam to spill onto the immaculate floor. He didn't notice the way his host's faced went pale. Giles did his best to find something to latch onto in his distress. "Zero-g football...? I'm afraid I don't recognize the sport." He sidled surreptitiously toward the roll of paper towels he knew he had in the kitchen. Dave continued to spill beer on the floor. He was now chugging the entire can in one go, fermented hops sluicing down his chin as he drank. Buffy came out of the bathroom and watched curiously. At last, Dave finished the beer, upended the can on top of his head, and belched contentedly. "Got another?" he asked, a chipmunk smile gracing his face. "No, no, I'm afraid not," Giles said quickly. "So, back to the ship tonight, eh? Well, I expect you'll find your footing soon enough. In the meantime, please go elsewhere." "He's been in outer space for six million years, Giles. Can't he stay here tonight?" He wanted to say no. He was desperate to say no. But damn it all if Buffy's eyes hadn't gone wide and sad. Any moment now her lip would tremble and he'd be lost. He struggled to recall the mess this complete stranger had just made of his floor, the appalling concept of a computer in a watchstrap spouting surrealism at him, the website he'd never be able to search for if there was anyone else on the premises. Buffy's lip quivered. "Oh, all right," Giles sighed miserably. "He can stay." Buffy squealed happily and gave her Watcher a gentle, but enthusiastic squeeze on the arm. She mentally berated herself for taking such a flimsy excuse to touch him, but she couldn't help herself. Since Angel left, she'd been discovering just how nice it was to spend time with Giles, who could walk in sunlight without catching fire and exploding into dust. She'd decided that was a very attractive attribute in a man. She gave in to temptation and squeezed his arm again. * * * * * Kryten prepared Starbug 2 for take off. As he flipped switches and double-checked readouts, Rimmer interrogated him about the situation. "Holly's sure this is Earth?" he asked. "Really Earth?" "He's quite certain of it, sir." "Yes, but let's not forget that last week he was certain we'd found an inexhaustible supply of fuel for the engines which turned out to be a pair of Lister's undershorts that had fallen behind a bulkhead and mutated." "It might have worked, sir." "No it couldn't," Rimmer said. "Those shorts could have fertilized half the arable soil in Europe, but they hadn't become rocket fuel yet." "Man, I took one whiff of those, and *I* nearly fertilized half the soil in Europe," Cat added. "Chipmunk Cheeks' shorts are fearsome at the best of times, but give them a few million years to ferment and they'll scare Frankenstein." "I admit, Mr. Lister's delicates may leave something to be desired in the olfactory sense," Kryten admitted, "but a Mechanoid can only do so much with laundry that actually moves under its own power. The little things kept running away. I finally had to hit them with a polo mallet just to get them to hold still long enough so I could pre-treat the stains." He flipped the final switch. The engines roared to life. "Right. Fasten your seatbelts, sirs. We're going to Earth." The small spacecraft whined and shuddered as it took off into the star-studded blackness. For some time, conversation was limited to what was necessary to pilot the ship. At last, though, they guided Starbug 2 into the atmosphere. The three companions took a good look. "So that's Earth?" Cat asked disdainfully. "That's what all the fuss has been about?" "You don't understand, Cat," Rimmer said. "It's Listy's home; where he comes from." "Yeah," the feline agreed, "and now I see what's been wrong with him all along. Just look at that place! No sense of style whatsoever." "How can you tell?" Kryten asked. "We haven't even landed yet." "Trust me, I can smell it as far away as Lister's breath. This has got to be the planet responsible for nylon boxer shorts and hooded anoracks." "Is that all you care about, you gimboid?" Rimmer asked. "What about Earth's scientific discoveries? What about its heroes? What about Morris dancing and Hammond Organs?" "Earth invented those things?" "Yes, and so many more like them." "Man, this place is worse than I thought." "No time to worry about that now," Kryten said nervously. "Something's just appeared on Starbug's navicomp, and it's headed straight for us!" "Evasive maneuvers!" Rimmer barked. "Not working, sir. It seems to be following us, no matter where we turn!" "Anybody else getting a really nasty case of déjà vu?" Cat asked. "Hold on, sirs! Collision imminent!" A pristine ship of incredible sleekness sliced through the atmosphere directly into the path of the bug-shaped, dented shuttle. There was a hideous grinding noise as the two vehicles scraped across one another and Starbug 2 plummeted to the ground. Moments later, the other ship performed a perfect u-turn and landed elegantly beside the shuttle. Ace Rimmer, resplendent in his gold lame space suit, emerged from his ship, shook out his shoulder-length tresses, and went to see what he could do for the crash victims. * * * * * When Oz came to, he noticed two things. The first was that he was chained up in Giles' bathtub - again. The other was the savage muttering he could hear just outside the shower curtain. "Hey," he said quietly. The muttering stopped. A hand pulled the shower curtain part of the way back. Giles peered in. He looked rumpled and disgruntled. Half his face was covered in shaving cream, and the other half in bits of toilet paper where he'd obviously nicked himself repeatedly. "Good morning, Oz," he said steadily enough. It took a practiced eye to see how close to the edge the Englishman was. Oz had had practice. "Did you sleep well?" "Like I was tranquilized, apparently. You?" "Not too badly. I suppose you'd like to be released now?" "When you've got a minute," he shrugged noncommittally. "You know, we've got to stop meeting like this. People are beginning to talk." Giles produced a key from the pocket of his robe and unfastened Oz's restraints. He then handed a neat pile of the boy's clothes to him. "We, um...we have a houseguest this morning," Giles said. "Male or female?" "Male." "There something you want to tell me, Giles? 'Cause I'd be cool about it." The older man glared and returned to his shaving. He flinched at a crash from the living room and nicked himself yet again. "Believe me, I have no desire to spend a moment more than necessary with him. And if that's what humanity's future holds, I'm glad I won't be here to see it." "Pretty grim, huh?" Oz allowed himself a flicker of a half-smile since Giles' back was to him. He finished dressing and stepped out of the tub. "It can't be that bad. Can it?" Another crash. "It's worse." * * * * * An hour later, the Scoobies were gathered in Giles' living room for a meeting. Xander and Anya shared one chair in an embarrassing attitude. Buffy perched demurely next to Giles on the sofa. Willow took a seat on the floor with her legs crossed tailor-style. Lister took the other chair. Of course, he sat on the back with his feet precariously planted on the arms. Oz watched Drusilla from his barstool. The vampiress rolled on the floor, her dress riding up her thighs obscenely as she gnawed on a gummi rat. "So you see," Giles explained solemnly, "Dave Lister is the end of humanity as we know it." "Speaking for humanity," Xander said, "I feel we should all be deeply ashamed." "Xand!" Willow scolded. "You shouldn't say that." "Tell me you're not thinking the same thing, Will." "Maybe. But I didn't say it." "Still," Anya said, "we are all thinking it. He's pathetic. He's ugly and unkempt." "Is anyone ever just 'kempt'?" Buffy asked. "I've never had anyone come up to me and say 'hey, you're looking really kempt today'." "Y'know, I always wondered about that," Lister said cheerfully. "Be that as it may," Giles said desperately trying to drag the council into some semblance of order, "we need to decide what to do now." "If I could make a suggestion? Maybe a long shower and a trip to the mall," Oz said. "Make him look and smell a little less like eau de homeless guy," Xander agreed. "Giles? Wallet." Buffy held out her hand expectantly. Giles gaped. "What?" "Well, a whole new look for the last chance of humanity doesn't exactly fit into my allowance. You're the gainfully employed one. Fork over." "May I remind you I am no longer gainfully employed since I blew up the school for you?" "Also in the service of humanity. Think of all the cosmic brownie points you're racking up." "You're seriously good with the karma," Oz agreed. Giles sighed and handed over his money. "We really ought to be working out how to send him back where he came from," he reminded the assembly, "not giving him a makeover." * * * * * "Is everybody all right?" Kryten asked. "Well, I am," said Rimmer. "Thank God." "No," Cat complained. "My cravat is all crumpled and I think I broke a nail." A figure appeared in the hatchway. "Mr. Ace, sir!" Kryten exclaimed. "Oh, my it's good to see you!" "Put it there, Kryten," Ace Rimmer - for it was he - said as he extended his hand to the Mechanoid. "My God you're looking great. And is that WD-40 I smell? Kritey, you old dog!" "Hey buddy!" Cat crowed happily. "Cat." Ace shook hands with the feline. "Silver and cerise? It's a bold fashion statement, but if anyone can pull it off, it's you." Ace turned and stood face-to-face with his twin. Rimmer grimaced in envious fury. "So, Arnie," Ace tried, "how's death treating you?" "You!" Rimmer exclaimed. "You smashed our ship again. And here you are to be all wonderful and perfect at us *again*? Well, laddie, no one's falling for your flowing tresses in the wind incredibleness this time. Are we, lads?" "Take no notice of Mr. Rimmer, sir. He's been particularly crabby and anti-social since we found Earth." "Earth, eh?" Ace said. "Always wanted to see Earth. Pity we're out of our timestream. Can't corrupt the lines and all that. Wouldn't be sporting." "See! That's what I told Doo-Doo Breath when he had the idea of coming here in the first place," Cat said. "I told him: nobody will be wearing the same sort of clothes you are. They'll all laugh at you. But did he listen? No." Holly's face appeared on the computer screen. "How's it going, dudes?" he asked. "Everything okay?" "Fine," Rimmer answered with scathing sarcasm. "Everything's just tickity-boo. Captain Queerbait has just crashed our ship again, the timeline's been permanently corrupted, and now we have to look at your ugly face. What could possibly be wrong with that?" "So, everything's fine, then. Good." "Have you and Mr. Lister found civilization?" Kryten asked. "Well, we've found some people. I don't know that you can call it civilization. Dave doesn't. Turns out there isn't an Indian takeaway for miles." "Lister can't get a curry?" Rimmer asked. "Things are looking up already." "What about a custom tailor?" Cat asked. "I've been wearing all my things for millions of years. I need to get the latest styles." "I don't think that'll be a problem," Holly said. "You've been gone long enough, most of your wardrobe has come back into fashion." "'Fraid there's a slight hitch, though," Ace said as he confidently lit a cigarette. "Timeline's been buggered with this caper of yours. If it doesn't get straightened out, my crate'll never take off again." "So you can't fly about dimensions winning awards for being handsome and amazing?" Rimmer asked. "Marvelous! Things just keep getting better and better." "But if your ship doesn't fly, how are you going to get back to your mission?" Kryten asked. "Why, if you can't fix your ship, you'll be stuck here in the past with us." Rimmer looked wildly around the room. "No," he said. "No, he can't stay. He can find his own planet." As the others all stared at Rimmer in disgust, he clenched his hand into a fist and bit his knuckles in frustration. Kryten looked sympathetically at Ace. "Don't worry about him, sir. He'll be fine as soon as we find Mr. Lister." The Mechanoid turned to the screen. "Holly, would you please give us the co-ordinants of Mr. Lister's position?" "Well...it's a bit tricky, but I'd say he's positioned on a chair in a way he's likely to fall off it soon. I don't know why you wanted to know that, though. I could just lead you to him." * * * * * Giles' Citroen wheezed and shuddered as he pulled it into a parking space at the mall. He, Buffy, Lister, Willow, Xander and Anya all clambered out. Several passers-by stared as if a clown car had suddenly appeared. "And yet, they never see the vamps," Buffy muttered under her breath. "Sunnydalians always notice the wrong things." She looked up with a sunny smile for her Watcher. Giles groaned inwardly. He knew that expression boded him no good. "Giles?" "Yes, Buffy," he sighed. "It's almost lunch time. Should we stop and eat first?" "Oooh, we could go to Chuck E. Cheese," Xander said. "Are they even still around?" Buffy asked. "Yeah," Willow said, "and they're lots of fun...or, they were once I knew the rat wasn't real." "Her sixth birthday? Not a pretty sight," Xander added. "Be glad you weren't there." "At least they didn't make my parents pay to have the carpet cleaned." "You mean you vomited?" Anya asked bluntly. "I vote to go somewhere Willow didn't vomit." "Yes, and let's not go to a restaurant which features a plague-carrying rodent as its mascot, please," Giles begged. "Speaking of which, Willow, have you made any progress with Amy yet?" "Nope. Still a rat. But I got her this new thing yesterday. It's this cute plastic ball I can put her in so she can roll around the room on her own and not get squished, 'cause the plastic's purple, so you see it, and it's a lot bigger than Amy. It's so adorable to watch her exploring the place. Only... I sort of left her at your place. Sorry. But she'll be okay, I'm sure. Plenty of room to roll around. Do you have any cheese?" "I thought we were going out for lunch," Anya said. "I think she means for Amy," Xander interpreted. "Who's Amy?" Lister asked. "Not another werewolf?" "She's a witch," Buffy explained, "who sort of turned herself into a rat. Accidentally. Or maybe on purpose... y'know, Will, I'm sort of glad now that she didn't do us first. I don't want to live in a Habitrail." "Most likely, neither of you would have been caught," Giles said. "You would probably have ended up living in a sewer." "I spend enough of my time down there. So, no Chuck E. Cheese. Where to, oh fearless leader?" "Are you sure there isn't anyplace we can get a vindaloo?" Lister asked hopefully. "I haven't had a curry since yesterday." "I'm afraid there is no Indian restaurant in Sunnydale," Giles sighed. "It's been hellish. No tandoori, no rogan josh, no palak paneer..." "No papadoms?" The two Englishmen sighed unhappily and shook their heads. "I miss takeaway curries," Giles admitted. "You never said you liked Indian food," Buffy said. "None of you ever asked. And there was none to be had in town." "That never stopped you bitching about not being able to get Smarties and Jelly Babies." "This is different. Curry... curry is an almost sacred thing," Lister said. "It's very personal. Sort of like... inflatable love dolls." "Inflatable...wha...?" Xander stood speechless after that effort. "Love dolls," Anya explained calmly. "Sexual aids. Lots of men buy them, but nobody ever talks about them. There are ones shaped like women, like men, like sheep..." "Yes, thank you," Giles interrupted. "And for the record, I have never owned an inflatable... woman. Or sheep." "So, you went for the guy, huh?" Buffy teased. At his answering glare, she patted his shoulder comfortingly. "I know, I know, don't ask, don't tell, right? Your secret's safe with me. So, do you still have blow-up Bruno, or do I know what to get you for Christmas now?" "Perhaps Chinese food?" She smiled at her Watcher's change of subject. "Sounds good," Xander said. "I'm up for it," Willow agreed. Giles lead the way to Szechwan Palace. * * * * * "You're sure this is the place?" Rimmer asked with a sneer. "This is where Holly said to go, sir," Kryten assured him. Cat looked around himself. The Spanish style apartment complex had heavy, decoratively carved doors to all the units, and someone had strung christmas lights from the plants. "It's a little dull," he said, "but you'd be surprised how much a mirrored disco ball would class the place up." "Ah, this appears to be the spot," Kryten said brightly. He approached the door. "Not so fast, Kritey," Ace exclaimed with a toss of his exquisitely highlighted locks. "It might be a trap. Better let me take the blow, if there turns out to be one." He shoved Rimmer aside and strode confidently to the door. "Stand back, everyone." The others all took several steps to the rear. Ace knocked. The door opened and a short young man with spikey green hair poked his head out. Hey," he said laconically. "Where's Skipper?" Ace demanded. "With Gilligan on the island?" Oz hazarded. "Oh...damn my nipple nuts! Kryten exclaimed. "I should never have let poor Mr. Lister go out alone. I tried to tell him Earth is a dangerous place." Ace hauled Oz up by his shirtfront. "If anything has happened to Dave, you're going to regret it," he said heroically. "Oh, Dave," Oz said calmly. "You mean Lister, don't you? He went to the mall. Buffy's getting him new clothes and a haircut." "Merciful heavens!" Kryten sobbed. "It's worse than I thought. They're torturing him!" "Better and better," Rimmer said with a small smile. "This is a disaster," opined Cat. "They'll never know what to get him. Nobody has a sense of style like mine." The young man's eyes flickered up and down, looking the feline over. "You're not wrong about that," he said. "I like the fishbone earring. It's cool." "Now listen here, matey," Ace said, "you're going to lead us to this... mall place, and help us find Dave. And if he's been harmed in any way, by God, I'll -" They never did discover what, by God, he was going to do. A purple plastic ball rolled out the door. Ace grabbed Cat and threw himself on the startled moggy. "Kritey, Arnold, get down!" he yelled. "It's a bomb!" The hologram and the mechanoid hit the decks. The purple ball continued rolling away. Oz stared at them. "It's not a bomb," he said at last. "It's Amy. Could one of you get her? I can hear Drusilla singing, and I need to get the lyrics down. She comes up with the coolest stuff." Before any of the others could react, Oz had gone back inside and shut the door. * * * * * "Pass the sweet and sour pork," Xander mumbled around a mouthful of chow mein. Willow ducked his chopsticks for the fifteenth time. "Could you look where you're pointing those things?" she snipped in exasperation. "You're gonna put somebody's eyes out." "Only if Lister doesn't give us all the fashionable Duke of Gloucester look first," Buffy said as she leaned still closer to Giles. "You might leave me some room to maneuver," Giles huffed half-heartedly. He really was having difficulty eating, but he was willing to put up with that if it meant Buffy's safety. He just felt a need to keep up his grumpy reputation. "And what do you know about the Duke of Gloucester?" "We studied Lear in English," she shrugged. "I could've done a much more efficient job of getting rid of him. I mean, why didn't they just kill him? Poking someone's eyeballs out isn't gonna shut him up. Cutting out his tongue would have been much more effective." Willow turned a bilious shade of green. "I think I'm gonna barf," she said in a small voice. "Eieeew!" Buffy said. "That's so gross, Will." "Yeah, I get what you're saying," Lister said to the Slayer. "In this film I saw, Mutant Death Cows of the Tenth Dimension, the mutant death cows have the heroine and they've decided to milk her to death, but they don't realize that human females don't need milking every day... or that cows can't milk anything because they don't have thumbs or milking machines. But all they really needed to do was lock her up in one of the stalls and all unload a pile of cowpats simultaneously, and she would have been toast." "Exactly my point," Buffy agreed cheerfully as Willow, Xander, and Giles put down their chopsticks. "Does anyone mind if I finish off the Mongolian Beef?" Only if I can have the rest of the Mu-shu Vegetables," Anya said. The rest of the company shook their heads. Giles pointedly inspected the check. Buffy, Anya, and Lister scarfed down the rest of the feast. * * * * * "Here, ratty, ratty, ratty," Cat called as he crept along the perimeter of the apartment complex. "Come to papa. I promise I won't eat you - unless you want. One squeak for yes, two for no." He stood and blew out a breath in frustration. "I give up. That rat ain't never coming out! This is stupid, and it's gonna crease my trousers the wrong way." He brushed off the knees of his suit and adjusted his jacket. He was just removing a speck of dust from his shoulder when a small movement caught the corner of his eye. Instantly, every hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. He crouched again, sniffing the air for more of the scent of rat. The smell was changing oddly. He sniffed again. Definitely, something was changing. He followed the scent until he found the source. There, behind a bush, he found the shards of the exploded purple plastic ball, and a very naked teenage girl. "Um...hi," she said. "Could you find me something to wear? And then maybe something to eat that isn't cheese?" * * * * * Ace strode confidently down the street, Rimmer and Kryten following behind. "This way, lads," the hero proclaimed. "I can feel it." "And the fact that old woman gave us directions to the mall had nothing to do with it?" Rimmer groused. "Gimboid." "Oh," the mechanoid wailed, wringing his hands, "I should never have allowed Mr. Lister to go out on his own! It's all so shiny and clean! He'll be terrified." * * * * * "Ah, here's just the place," Giles said, gesturing to his favorite menswear store. "Clean, classic lines, and a good selection of neutral colors. You'll find plenty of ties, braces, and cufflinks to choose from, as well." Lister stopped dead in his tracks. There was nothing but wall-to-wall gray, beige, black, and brown as far as the eye could see. Out of the corner of one eye, he thought he spotted a touch of navy blue, but feared it was an illusion. The place was filled with dress shirts, two and three-piece suits, neckties, woolen trousers, and tweed blazers. "Ehm, where's the Hawaiian shirts?" he asked nervously. "Down the mall a ways at Manny's Surf Shack," Xander said. "Hawaiian shirts?" Giles huffed. He pulled Xander to his side. "Which of us would you rather dress like, Dave?" he asked. Lister looked from one to the other. As much as he appreciated what Giles was trying to do for him, there was no contest. "Him." He pointed to Xander. The young man and his girlfriend grinned and lead their new friend away. Buffy stayed and did her best to comfort her Watcher. "Maybe not everybody is really meant for tweed," she said awkwardly. He smiled ruefully at her. "I rather think what you mean is that tweed is dreadfully dull, stuffy, and unfashionable." "Well... okay, that is what I meant," she admitted. "But not in a bad way." "There's a good way to be dull and stuffy, is there?" "You're not so stuffy," she shrugged. "And dull is not a word I've been using to describe you lately, in case you haven't noticed. It's okay if you want to still wear tweed sometimes. It's sort of... in the comfort zone." Giles stood pondering for a moment, hands in pockets, eyes gazing vaguely into the distance. At last, he looked down at his companion and smiled shyly at her. "So, if a stuffy, middle-aged fellow was thinking of breaking his tweed addiction, where would you recommend he go to look for something new to wear?" "I think I know just the place. Come with me, Watcherman." Buffy took his arm. The glint in her eye did little to reassure Giles that he was making the right decision, but it was too late. He swallowed hard and allowed his Slayer to pull him to his doom. * * * * * Amy huddled in the outlandish jacket her strange companion had handed her. It sparkled in the sun. Still, she supposed it was better than wandering around naked in an unfamiliar part of town. She was none too sure of the freaky guy who had found her, either. His canine teeth were too sharp and his manner of leering at her entirely too disturbing. Then there was the way every nerve in her recently rodential body screamed at her that he was dangerous. Then again, he was the only person she'd seen so far, and he seemed to know where to go. She decided to ignore her instincts and follow him - despite her urgent desire to flee. She wasn't sure why the door he lead her to looked so familiar. She couldn't remember having come to this apartment complex before. Still, there was something about it she felt she knew. Her rescuer knocked on the heavy, ornately carved door. She breathed a sigh of relief when a head she knew poked out. "Oz! It's good to see you." "Hey, Amy," he greeted her with no particular show of surprise. "Nice to see you human again." Cat grabbed her and snarled at Oz. "She's mine! I found her! Get your own ratwoman! She's my shiny thing and you can't have her." Oz shrugged. "If it's okay with her, it's okay with me. Come on in. Amy might want some real clothes, and I know Buffy always leaves some sweats here for when she trains." "Buffy trains with you...?" Amy tried to make sense of things in her own mind. She failed. "Nah, this is Giles' place," Oz explained. "She's here all the time." Nothing was any clearer, but Amy decided that if it meant she could have something a little more than a stranger's jacket to wear, she would be happy to get inside. Besides, where Oz was, Willow couldn't be far away, she decided. Plus Mr. Giles had been nice to her several times. Maybe he could help her explain to her father what had happened to her. She wasn't at all prepared for the strange woman in the red and black evening gown twirling around the living room laughing. The woman came to a halt before her and began to speak in an hypnotic tone of voice. "One blind rat, all on her own. Have you learned to see again? Would you like a vision of your future?" "Um... not right now, thanks. I think I'll just take some clothes and a chance to call my dad." To Amy's surprise, Oz slipped an arm around the strange woman's waist. "Isn't she cool?" he marveled. Things had definitely changed. * * * * * "Come on out," Buffy called. "I want to see how it looks." "Just a moment," Giles replied. "Nearly there." She blew out a frustrated breath and meandered over to the racks again. How long could it take for a man to get dressed? She felt like she'd been waiting forever for him to try on a couple new outfits. She smiled when she remembered the look on his face when she'd brought him to a classy, upscale menswear store instead of The Gap or some similar mass manufactured purveyor of trendiness. Sure, she thought it might be interesting to get him into tight jeans and a tee shirt, but she knew she'd have an easier time selling him on a more adult version of comfortably casual. Ever since the discovery of what Giles and her mother had done on the infamous Band Candy night, Buffy had found herself more and more intrigued with watching Giles' body. She'd started noticing things; things that made her uncomfortable, but made her want to notice more at the same time. Things like how long his fingers were, and how well he wore a pair of pants. Things like how expressive his eyes were, and how thrilling his voice could be when he spoke softly to her. Not that she expected anything to come of her latest obsession, but a girl could dream. And speaking of dreams, she'd had one recently that had really, really made her want to just go over to his place and see what would happen if she kissed him. "Yeah, like that would have been smart," she said to herself. "And like he wouldn't have thought you were totally insane." She fingered a dark blue shirt and wondered how it would look on him, especially if he wore it with the first couple of buttons open so she could see a tantalizing tuft of chest hair peeking out. She bit her lip to keep from whimpering.v "Well, do you like it?" came a voice from behind. Buffy wheeled around, and gasped slightly. Her eyes went wide. "Is it all right?" There he stood, looking just as perfect as she'd hoped. The soft beige knitted silk sweater she'd chosen coordinated perfectly with the linen trousers. He'd pushed the sleeves up slightly, revealing a bit of well-muscled forearm. The lighter colors made him look younger without making him look as if he were trying to look younger. Actually, he looked even better than she'd thought he would. "All right?" Buffy gulped when she could find words. "Um... yeah, not bad. Not nearly as fashion-challenged as you were half an hour ago. You're getting these." "You don't think they make me look... a bit... silly, do you?" "Not exactly the first word that comes to mind," she assured him. "Now try something in blue." "Blue? Why blue?" "I...just think you might look good in it." She handed him the shirt she'd been stroking. As he took it, his fingers brushed against hers and they both blushed slightly. He smiled uncomfortably. She pulled back her hand. "I'll...um...just go try this on, shall I?" "Yeah. Great. I'll...stand here and wait. Y'know, act as your fashion consultant." "What on Earth would I do without you?" "I don't know. Dress like a dinosaur forever?" "Quite possibly...but let's not find out, shall we?" "Not if I can help it." With another smile, he disappeared back into the dressing room. Buffy heaved a sigh. Whether it was one of relief or disappointment, she couldn't say for sure. * * * * * Rimmer glared at yet another person staring at him and his little party. "What's the matter with these people?" he asked. "Haven't they ever seen a hologram, his wonderfuller-than-thou twin from an alternate dimension and a mechanoid before?" "You're right," Ace said, lighting up a cigarette directly in front of a no smoking sign. "We're making a spectacle of ourselves. Better split up, meet back here in an hour. Cover more ground that way. The more places we look, the better chance we have of finding Skipper and saving him from a fate worse than death." "And if we don't find him?" Kryten asked. "We will. No choice. Can't let Dave down." "Of course not," Rimmer sneered. "If Listy's the damsel in distress, you get the usual reward for saving her. Well, I just hope you've got plenty of condoms." Ace ignored his double's bitter aspersions to his sexuality and continued planning. "If you can come up with some sort of disguise, do it. Kritey, there's a hat shop over there. You may need to liberate some merchandise." "But sir, wouldn't that be stealing?" "Dammit, man, Dave's in danger! There isn't time to worry about the niceties. We'll pay them back later. They'll understand. Bound to. As for me, I'd better find someplace to stow my jacket. It's making me too conspicuous." He pulled off the offending article to reveal the gold mesh singlet underneath. "Best I can do. I'll see you back here in one hour, with or without Dave." Tossing his locks one last time, Ace shoved his jacket behind a potted palm tree and strode purposefully down the mall. Kryten moved toward the hat shop in what he clearly thought was a casual way. It wasn't. Entirely too much eye rolling and whistling was involved. Rimmer watched them go and shook his head. "Holly!" he barked at his wrist. "What is it Arnold?" "I need some new clothes. Something that won't get noticed here. And make it snappy; I don't have all day." "Right," Holly said affably. "I can do that." A moment passed. "Well...?" "Well what?" "Have you done it?" "Oh, you want it now, do you?" "Yes, I smegging want it now, you dribbling collection of shorted wires and bat droppings." "I'm a what?" "You heard. New clothes, now." "All right, Arnold. Done." "And about bloody time, too," Rimmer huffed. He looked down at himself. His eyes went wide. "Holly! Holly!" His watch remained a watch. "Come back here, you smeg-faced git! You can't leave me like this!" A picture appeared on the watch face. It was a skutter making a rude gesture. "I swear, I'll get you for this, you idiotic mass of fried circuitry," he muttered as he chose another direction to look for Lister, his lacy dress and Shirley Temple ringlets flowing behind him. * * * * * "Brutal!" Lister preened for his reflection. He grinned to see himself resplendent in a bright red Hawaiian shirt printed with multi-colored surfboards and hula girls. Then there were the comfortably baggy dark green cargo pants. Perfection. "Not bad," Xander grinned. "Of course, I would have gone with the yellow hibiscus print, but I think this one works for you." "Yeah, it's not bad." "And it's quite inexpensive," Anya added helpfully. "Now, about your hair...." "What about it?" Lister asked. "Well...it's matted. And it looks like it hasn't been cleaned in a very long time." "I'm not big on washing if I can help it. Delicate chest. And the matting's on purpose. Have you never seen dreadlocks before?" "Dreadful-locks, I call them," the girl sniffed. "Women don't find them attractive." "Yet I find them strangely compelling," Xander mused. "Still, as Anya says, the ladies don't go much for the look. Maybe it's time to clip them down a little." Just as he said that, two teenage girls passed. They looked at Lister as if he was an ice cream sundae they couldn't wait to taste. "Dreads," one of them sighed. "That is so cool." "Mm-hmmm!" the other agreed. "And so sexy." Lister turned and smiled at the girls. They blushed, giggled, and scampered off. He looked back at Xander and Anya. "No way am I getting me hair cut. Dreads are clearly the way to pull in this place." * * * * * Amy slipped gratefully into the sweat pants and tee shirt Oz provided her with, courtesy of Buffy. The clothes were too small, but at least they covered more of her than that silver jacket had. She wondered exactly why Buffy kept a change of clothes at Giles'. She knew, certainly, that Giles was Buffy's Watcher. Willow had explained the whole thing to her a long time ago. But that didn't explain spare clothes. That sounded... dirty. That sounded like maybe the rumors that had flown up and down the hallways of Sunnydale High were true after all. Maybe those two had been having sex all this time. At any rate, she decided, it wasn't really her business. Still, if she got the chance to find out, she was going to take it. Smoothing down the borrowed tee shirt one last time, she opened the door and left the bathroom. "Okay," she announced, "Here I am. All dressed and ready to find out how long I haven't been me. A day? Two? A week?" "Try months," Oz said. "Months? How many? Ohmigod! What about finals?" "I wouldn't worry about them until next year." "Why?" "Because it's July." Amy slid bonelessly into a chair. "July?" she managed at last. "But... but... it was January when..." "When you did the rat spell. Yeah. Will's been taking real good care of you." "Spelling's easy," Drusilla intoned, "ever so much easier than punctuation. Your spell led to a period of dancing stars and howling wolves. I liked it." Oz looked at Drusilla with a surprisingly tender non-expression. "Isn't she cool?" "Kooky's more like it," Cat mumbled under his breath. "Man, and I thought Holly was a sad case." He turned his attention back to Amy. "So you haven't always been a rat?" "Um...no. Most of the time, I've been a girl." "What else can you be?" he asked eagerly. "Ever thought of being a lady cat? Not that I'm picky. I think you smell real good with that little touch of rodent about you." Amy whimpered. Obviously, her transition back to humanity was going to be trickier than she thought. * * * * * "How's this?" Buffy looked up at Giles, now dressed in a royal blue shirt and black Dockers. It was almost perfect. Almost. "How are you breathing with your shirt buttoned all the way up? Here, let me fix that." She reached up to undo the top button. Giles took her wrist firmly in his hand. "Buffy, what are you doing?" "Trust me. It'll be good, I promise." He looked wary, but slightly relaxed his grip on her. Without breaking eye contact, she slid the button out of the hole and moved on to the second one. "Rule number one of dressing cool," she said in a suddenly husky voice, "choking is bad. Let yourself breathe." Giles wasn't certain he could follow that particular instruction with Buffy's hands doing exactly he'd been dreaming about lately, and her wide eyes focused on his. When a small hand moved to caress the exposed skin, ruffling a bit of his chest hair, he stopped her again. "What are you doing, Buffy? What is this?" Her stomach did a double backflip and landed on a banana peel. She pulled her hands back as if they'd been burned. "I - I'm sorry, Giles. I - I - I didn't mean to...." She dropped her gaze to the floor. If he was angry or upset with her, she didn't think she could take it. Strong fingers coaxed her chin until she was looking into the green depths of his eyes again. "I'm not angry," he said softly. "I'm just...I don't know what you mean by this. And I'm not entirely sure you do, either." Her eyes flashed fire at him. "So I don't know what I want? Is that what you think? I'm just some little girl who doesn't know her own mind?" She firmly ignored the voice in her own head that told her that was exactly what she was. "I know what I don't want. I don't want to be alone anymore." "If all you're looking for is a safe harbor, don't come to me, Buffy." His voice was still quiet, but no longer gentle. "In this regard, I'm not a safe person. I won't settle for holding your hand until you decide you're ready to find some pretty boy to fall in love with. I'm glad you know what you don't want, but don't come to me until you know I'm what you do want." He let go of her chin and smiled a comforting, Gilesy smile at her. Somehow, she couldn't stop trembling. "Now," he said in a more familiar tone, "does this meet with your approval? Shall I get these?" She nodded wordlessly. He smiled again and went to change back into his old clothes. Buffy's hand moved involuntarily to the wrist he'd held moments before. She felt as if her world had turned upside down in the last minute. "Hey Buff! Look what I found." She hadn't even noticed Willow bouncing up to her, hands full of plastic bags. The redhead rummaged in one and pulled out a bright pink hat with yellow crocheted flowers and an oversized, sparkling ladybug. "Neat, huh? And it was on a really great sale. I can't believe how cheap it was. Seems like all the best stuff is marked way down." The girl frowned at her friend's lack of enthusiasm. "What's up, Buff? Lister refusing to see the light of tastefulness, Buffy style?" "Will, is there somewhere we could go and talk? I really, really need some advice." "With or without ice cream?" "With. Definitely with. Possibly sundaes." "Oh...that's big." Willow frowned. "This isn't an Angel thing, is it?" "No," Buffy groaned. "It's a Giles thing. And a me thing. And possibly... an us thing. As in a Giles and me thing. Not a you and me thing." "Love you, Buffy, but there'll never be a you and me thing. Not like that." She wrinkled up her nose. "And I'm betting a you and Giles thing isn't such a good idea, either. Come on. Let's get some scoops and Dr. Willow will listen to all your darkest secrets." She put an arm around Buffy's shoulders and steered her out of the store. * * * * * Kryten sneaked down the mall. He sidled up against walls and storefronts, pulling his "borrowed" fedora lower over his forehead as he went. In addition to that, he'd managed to make off with the trenchcoat someone had set down on a bench. Still, people kept looking at him. "This being sneaky is harder than it looks," he muttered to himself. He spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Something with dreadlocks and a red Hawaiian shirt. "It's Mr. Lister! Oh thank heavens! He's alive!" "Kryten?" came a desperate whisper from the potted palm to his left. "Kryten? Can you hear me?" "Mr. Rimmer? Is that you? What an amazing disguise!" He inspected the fronds admiringly. "You look absolutely vegetative, sir! How do you do that?" "Shut the smeg up, you inane pile of fetid transistors!" Rimmer fumed. "I'm behind the tree. You've got to talk to Holly. Get him to put me back so I don't look like Leslie Caron in Gigi." "I don't know, sir," the mechanoid said with an appraising look. "I rather think it suits you. Besides, there's no time for that. Mr. Lister's over there. We've got to go save him. Sir, you don't know what they're doing to him! Why, the new clothes smell is obvious from here! What if they try to give him a shampoo and a manicure? They may even attempt to exfoliate him!" "And while I'm sure that might make him disappear entirely, I really don't give a toss about it. What about me? What about my plight?" "Plight, Sir? Is it really as bad as all that?" "I'm a hologram of a grown man and I could win a Mary Pickford impersonation contest. I call that a plight." "Holly," Kryten sighed, "would you please restore Mr. Rimmer to his usual appearance before he annoys us to death with his ceaseless whining?" "Okay, dude." In a flash, Rimmer was back in his green uniform and his short back and sides haircut. He patted himself down and sighed in relief. "Well, that's better, I must say," he preened. Now I look the way a man's supposed to look." "Are you quite certain about that, Sir?" Kryten asked. "Yes, I'm certain." The hologram fixed the mechanoid with an icy stare. "Now, what say we pop off and find some decent food? Perhaps something in a steak and kidney pudding, followed by spotted dick with custard? Anything that isn't Indian." "But, Sir, what about Mr. Lister?" "Ace Smartypants can track him down and save him." "I haven't seen Mr. Ace for some time, Sir. You can do what you like, but I'm going to save my friend!" As the robot sneaked off theatrically, Rimmer sighed to himself. "You're just asking for trouble, Kritey," he sighed. "Isn't he, Holly?" "Yes, you are, Arnold," his watch replied. "I wonder what he meant by that," Rimmer said as he stepped out from behind the plant. When several passers-by sniggered and a woman covered her small child's eyes at the sight of him, he looked down. He shook with rage, dived behind the plant again, and glared at his watch. "Holly, you total, total git! What have you done with my trousers?" * * * * * "...and I don't know what to do, now, Will. I - I think he might be interested...but I think he's a lot more sure than me. You're smart. Tell me what to do." "I think maybe you've done too much already," Willow said with a sad shake of her head. "You can't unsay what you said, or undo what you did. It's going to make things weird." "I couldn't help myself," Buffy moaned. "He looked so... so edible." "Is this a... y'know... urge thing? Like... urges?" "Big urges. The biggest. But I think there might be more. I'm just not sure how much more. The urge is there bigtime, but it's not all there is." She blushed and poked at her banana split with her spoon. "It's not just that I want to... y'know... go to sleep with him. I think... I think I want to wake up with him, too." "I hate to ask this, but how much of that is because you didn't wake up with Angel?" Willow asked. "Because he wasn't. Angel. After." "Thanks for bringing that up." "I'm not trying to be mean, Buffy. I care about you, and about Giles. I don't want either one of you to get hurt, and hurt is about the only possibility I'm seeing here." "I'm not exactly planning to hurt Giles. Really not on my agenda." "No, I know that," Willow said. "But think about it. Giles is a whole lot older than us. Not that he isn't pretty good looking, and all that, 'cause, well, I've been crushy girl, too. But he's old enough to be our dad, Buffy. And he's your Watcher." "Ex-Watcher," Buffy pointed out. "He got fired, so technically, he's ex. And I don't work for the Council, either, anymore." "But you still Slay, and Giles still trains you. It was hard enough having a relationship with Angel and working with him. Getting together with Giles could really make things awkward with the work thing. And what about when you break up?" "When? When we break up?" Buffy exclaimed. "Will, we haven't even started dating, and you're worried about the fallout of the ending?" "Exactly! See? Even you're talking when and not whether. That's not good. And what if you died? What would Giles do then?" "I died once, already. He survived it pretty well." "Yeah, but he didn't know you were dead until after you were alive again. What if you died longer? What if you died forever? That's what happens to Slayers. Don't get me wrong, I'm in no hurry. If you lived to be a hundred, I'd party with you... if I was still alive, too. But chances are, Giles is going to be around longer than you are. What happens to him when you're gone?" "So what you're saying is don't even think about trying?" Buffy said in disbelief. "You think it's that horrible an idea?" "I think it's complicated and probably a harder thing than you think," Willow corrected her. "Have you even thought about what your mom will say?" Buffy groaned and dropped her spoon into her dish. "Do we really have to bring my mom into this?" "Do you really think you could keep her from finding out about it?" "It worked with Angel. I just didn't say anything, and she wasn't upset about it... until he came and spilled the beans to her about our... y'know... what we did. But he was evil then. Giles won't be evil. I'm pretty sure he won't. Then again, I wouldn't have believed Angel would turn evil just because we... y'know. Did... what we did." "Had sex, Buffy. If you can't even say it, you probably shouldn't be doing it with a guy like Giles." "I can say it. I could say it to him. Just not you or my mom. Will, I want this. But I know it could cause a lot of problems. What do I do?" "If you have to ask me, I think that's sort of your answer, isn't it?" * * * * * "Mr. Lister, Sir!" Kryten called. "Mr. Lister! At last, I've found you!" Dave found himself engulfed in a mechanoid embrace. "Cheers, Kryten! Didn't know you felt that way," Lister laughed. "Xander, this is Kryten. And Kryten, this is Xander. He's brilliant at finding Hawaiian shirts, and stuff like that. I'm gonna make him my personal shopper." "That way, Dave doesn't have to go to the mall again," Xander grinned. "I don't think he likes it here, much." "But Mr. Lister, you're...you're...so shiny," Kryten sputtered. "Are you sure you're okay?" "Yeah. It's not bad. So, is Rimmer with you? And Cat?" "Mr. Rimmer is hiding behind a potted palm, and Cat is back at the house Holly said you went to when you first came to this planet." "Ooh boy," Xander said. "Maybe we'd better go to the parking garage and wait for Giles as soon as Anya gets back from the bathroom. I wouldn't want to leave anyone alone with Oz and Drusilla longer than necessary." He looked Kryten over once more. "Y'know, I never met a robot before. Well, I did, but I never met a nice one before. You're nice, right? And you don't kidnap women or drug snacks?" "Mr. Xander, Sir! Whatever do you take me for?" "Just checking," he shrugged. "Around here, you can't be too careful about people." * * * * * Ace Rimmer darted behind a mall directory and peered out stealthily. The coast looked clear. He sprinted down the corridor, feinting left, then heading to the right. No one would expect that. Behind him, he could hear the two security guards he was dodging close on his heels. Then, disaster! Two more guards appeared straight ahead. Trapped! He glanced in all directions, hoping to find an escape route. He smiled inwardly. At the last moment before five bodies could crash, Ace dropped and rolled to his left. As all four security guards went down in a tangle of arms, legs, and other assorted body parts, the intergalactic hero scrambled to his feet a yard from them and sped into the door marked 'Ladies'. As soon as the door was closed behind him, Ace took a deep breath, pulled out a cigarette, and lit up. "Smoke me a kipper, boys," he smirked. "I'll be back for breakfast." "Hey! You can't smoke in here!" came a stern voice behind him. Ace turned to find himself faced with a pretty little brunette. She stood with her hands on her hips glowering adorably at him. "Well, smother me in tandoori sauce and bake me to a crisp if you aren't the prettiest little filly I ever did see," Ace said. "What's your name, gorgeous?" "It's Anya, and I don't like you," the girl replied. "You don't belong in here. I'm almost sure you have a penis, and are therefore a man. That means you should be somewhere else. Go away." "Wedding tackle all present and accounted for," he replied smoothly. "If you'd ever like a demonstration, just send up a smoke signal, Anya. Anywhere, anytime, I'm your man." "No, Xander's my man," Anya said as she folded her arms across her chest. "You're an annoyance. Now get out of here so I can use the toilet." "Sorry, but I can't oblige. Security's after me. Had to take cover. No choice. I'll leave as soon as I can. Hate to inconvenience a woman - especially one as delicious and spunky as you." There was a furious knock on the door followed by a barking voice. "Security! Stand back! We're coming in! You've got to the count of three!" "Sorry, Anya. Gotta ask you to keep mum about me." "Why are they after you?" "No time to explain. I'm just trying to save a friend. You've got to help me." "One!" "Why should I help you?" Anya retorted. In lieu of a verbal reply, Ace took her in his arms and kissed her enthusiastically. A stunned nanosecond later, the girl responded. The interplay of his tongue against hers felt wonderful - not to mention more skilled than Xander. She whimpered low in her throat. "Two!" That broke the kiss. "Quick, into one of the stalls and kneel on the toilet," Anya ordered. "I'll take care of the rest." With a toss of his highlighted locks, Ace followed instructions. Anya turned to face the door. "Three!" Four security guards tumbled into the room only to find themselves faced with one very cheesed off girl. "Can't any of you read?" she demanded. "This is the ladies' room. As far as I can tell, none of you are ladies - or even women." "We're looking for a guy," one of the guards explained. "He's assaulted two store clerks, screaming something about stroking nipples in rest homes. He's out of his blow-dried mind and he's dangerous. We saw him go in here." "What does he look like?" Anya asked. "About average height, skinny build, brown, shoulder-length hair with highlights God didn't intend, wearing gold, faggy pants and a mesh tank top. You seen him?" "Do you really think someone who looked like that could come in here without my noticing? Do you think I'm blind?" Anya sniffed suspiciously at the lead guard. "Have you been ingesting or smoking hallucinogens?" "Hey! we ask the questions around here," the guard said angrily. One of his companions surreptitiously tossed a joint out of his pocket and kicked it into a corner. "well, if you're done asking stupid questions, why don't you go?" the girl prompted. "I came in here to make use of the facilities, and I'm not going to while you're standing there." The four guards backed sheepishly out of the room, mumbling apologies as they went. As soon as they were gone, Ace left the cubicle he'd been hiding in. "Can't thank you enough for that, Anya," he said. "I have to go save Dave now, but you've been amazing - and I don't mean just the tonsil hockey. Wish I had time for a rematch, though. Damn good sport. Oh, what the hell!" He leaned down and kissed her again. Several breathless moments later, he released her and headed for the door. One thought finally surfaced in Anya's mind as his hand reached the handle. "Wait a minute! You said the person you're looking for is called Dave?" "That's right." "Not...Dave Lister?" "How did you know that? Have you seen him?" "Seen him? My boyfriend and I just helped him buy all new clothes. Ones that smell less offensive than the ones he was wearing when he arrived." Ace turned on her dangerously. "You may be one prime cut of delicious, but if you've hurt Skipper, by God I'll make you wish you'd never been born." "Skipper? I thought you were looking for Dave Lister. And why would I hurt him? Now that he's less smelly, he's not too bad." "Take me to him, and don't try any funny stuff." "Take you there how? Those security guards are probably still right outside the door." "Damn! Didn't figure on that," Ace said. "Do you know any karate? Kung Fu? Kickboxing?" "No. Why would I know those?" "Too bad. Could have been useful. Still...have you ever seen It Happened One Night?" "Seen it? I was at the premiere." "Remember that move Claudette Colbert used to hitch a ride? Can you do that?" Anya looked pointedly down at her miniskirt. "How high do you want me to lift it?" she asked sarcastically. "How high will it go?" "Look, just stay here while I get him. We can figure out how to get you out later. You'll be safe here until I get back." The words were barely out of her mouth when the door smacked into Ace's nose and a distraught Buffy hurried into the room sniffling miserably. "What's the matter with you?" Anya asked gruffly. "It's...it's n-nothing," Buffy hiccoughed. "I'm okay." "Okay," Anya shrugged as she left. "Not *that* okay," Buffy said, watching her go. "A damsel in distress," Ace surmised. He pulled a gold lame handkerchief from his trouser pocket and offered it to the girl. "There, there," he said. "What's the matter? Intergalactic white slavers after you? They've got good taste - I'll give them that - but we won't allow it to happen." "Who the hell are you?" Buffy sniffed. "Ace Rimmer, interdimensional superhero, at your service. Who can I pummel within an inch of his miserable life for bringing tears to those beautiful baby blues?" "My eyes are green." "As the most precious emeralds," he agreed. "And I so don't need help from someone wearing Hammer's Goodwill donations." "That's where you're wrong, little lady. Whatever the problem, whether it's space Nazis, headhunters, evil geniuses, rabid crocodiles, or hairdressers from Hell, chances are I can take care of it. Someone as pretty and delicate as you needs a man to protect her. Only right." "What's wrong with my hair?" Buffy raised a hand to check her tresses. "And I can take care of myself, y'know." "But when you can't - and that day will come - call on me. I'll save you." With that he took her in his arms to kiss her. Unfortunately for Ace, nothing had prepared him for a woman completely immune to his charms. He landed on the floor on his back a moment later, stunned and confused. "Men!" Buffy exclaimed. "Men...stink!" Ace watched in a daze as she stomped out of the room. "My God, what a woman!" * * * * * By the time Giles had finished paying for his purchases and returned to his car, he was more than ready to leave the mall. It wasn't a place he liked being at the best of times, and this trip had been the worst in recent memory. Had Buffy really made a pass at him? Had he really turned her down? Of course, he couldn't leave until everyone else came back to the parking garage. A moment later, he spied a bright hat that he knew had to be a new purchase of Willow's. Nobody else wore quite such colorful clothes. Even in Sunnydale, she stood out as particularly garish in her fashion choices. Giles smiled slightly to himself. He would never admit it, but Willow's peculiar sartorial taste amused him. Her somber expression, however, didn't match the brightness of her costume. "Hey Giles. Anyone else here yet?" "No, actually. I seem to have lost them all. Even Buffy." "Yeah, about Buffy," Willow said nervously, "um...she sort of told me...she wanted to walk home. So there would be more room in the car for Dave and his new stuff." "Willow, are you quite alright? You seem a bit uneasy. Did...did Buffy say anything else?" "Anything? I - I don't think she used that word, specifically, though I could be mistaken. Not like I can remember every single word she used." Willow's evasions and deep scarlet blush told Giles everything he didn't want to know. "Oh dear lord!" "No...Giles...she only just told me blurry outline stuff. Nothing real... specific, y'know. I don't even know if you guys did any stuff that I don't want to know about." Giles pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses and prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him. It failed to do so. Willow continued to ramble, unabated. "But if you ask me - which I know you didn't - it might be better if you don't. It's only been a little time since Angel left, and I think Buffy's really not so sure what she wants. Not that I think you're not good enough for her to want. More like I don't want either of you to get hurt, and right now I'm not sure you guys could do anything else." "Yes, thank you, Willow," he said shortly. "Your concerns are duly noted." "Are you mad at me?" she asked in a small voice. "No, of course not," he sighed. "I'd just rather not discuss this right now. Or with anyone but Buffy." "I just want to help." "Yes, I understand that. And I do appreciate it, as well. But this needs to be Buffy's decision." "So you want me to butt out?" "If Buffy asks your advice, give it...though I imagine you've already done that. But yes, other than that, I think you probably should... um... butt out, as you say." "Okay, but if you need some advice yourself, I'll be here." "I think you've already made your position quite clear." A piece of Willow longed to protest, but Giles' tone made it obvious that any further comment on the subject would not be welcome. She looked at her sneakers and tried to think of a safe topic. She was saved from the attempt by the arrival of Xander, Anya, Lister, Kryten, and Rimmer - with his trousers restored. Willow stared at the mechanoid. Giles whipped off his glasses, cleaned them vigorously, and replaced them. "Good lord!" he exclaimed. "Ah, Kryten's alright," Xander said airily. "He's a friend of Dave's. I'm still deciding about Rimmer, here. Apparently, there's another Rimmer wandering somewhere around the mall, and a catguy in your apartment." "The other Rimmer is hiding in the ladies' room," Anya explained. "I haven't figured out how to get him past security yet." "And it's kind of hard to do the stealthy with Kryten along," Xander added. "People sort of notice him around here." "Well what do you want me to do with him?" Giles asked with some asperity. "I don't run a hotel, you know, and I've already got one extraterrestrial guest. I can't put them all up." We'll figure something out soon, right guys?" Willow said, nodding significantly at her friends. "We know you can't keep them around too long. Maybe Buffy's mom would take one or two. They've got a spare bedroom and everything." "As lovely as all this planning is," Rimmer said, "you're forgetting one thing." "What's that?" Xander asked. "The fact that Rimmer here's a total, total smeghead," Lister sighed. "No, not that," Rimmer corrected him. "You're forgetting that Listy is the only one who wants to be here at all. I don't want someone to find me a place to stay here. I want to go home to Mars Colony. If Lister goes back to his roots, I should go to mine." "Mars Colony?" Willow gulped. "Sounds good to me," Xander said. "But Xand, there is no colony on Mars. We've never been there. The furthest we've sent people is the Moon, and that was way back in the Sixties." "No colony?" Rimmer asked in a small voice. "None at all?" "I'm afraid not," Giles said. "More's the pity." "Well, I'm staying," Lister said firmly. "I've been trying to get to Earth for six million years. I'm not leaving, now I've found it." A flash of gold sped past the little band, followed closely by two huffing, puffing security guards. Giles turned to Lister. "Your missing friend?" he asked. "Ace!" Dave exclaimed. "It's Ace Rimmer! What a guy!" "What do we do?" Willow asked. "This," Anya announced. She pulled a vial of pepper spray from her purse and chased after the asthmatic guards. Moments later, both were rolling on the ground, holding their faces and crying for their mommies. "Thanks, beautiful," Ace said. "Don't know what I would have done without you. Thought my ticket was punched until you came along." "I told you to stay where you were until we went back for you. Can't you follow simple instructions?" she scolded. "Now come over here and meet everyone." "I suppose the only thing to do is organize a meeting and work out what's to be done with the lot of you," Giles sighed. "My place, one hour." He handed a wad of cash to Xander. "Get pizza and donuts. This could be a long night." * * * * * An hour later, Giles' home was filled to capacity and beyond. "The first thing we need to decide is where all these people are going to stay," Giles said firmly. "I can get away with an overnight guest once in a while, but not half a dozen long-term housemates. I haven't the room, and I value my privacy. I want everyone out." "Grumpypants," Buffy muttered under her breath. A bit louder, she added her two cents worth. "I could take one or two. Maybe Crayola, here." "That's Kryten," Lister corrected her. "Yeah. Him. My mom'll love the help with the housework." "Dave can stay with me," Xander offered. "My parents gave me the basement to stay in. They'll never notice one extra guy down there. Any more, though, and it'll get too crowded." "Amy can stay at my place til her dad is home," Willow offered. "How's that for great timing? She stops being a rat just when her only family's backpacking across Europe and can't be reached. Then again, it's not like my parents are home, either." "The others can stay with me," Oz said. "My mom and dad'll be cool. They'll never notice a few more people with all the Deadheads passing through." "Fine," Giles sighed in relief. "That will do nicely." Visions of having his home to himself again danced tantalizingly through his head. Perhaps then he could continue his internet struggles in peace. "The next thing we need to figure out is how to return... the extra Rimmer to his own timeline. I suppose this will be more difficult." "Books all around?" Buffy surmised. "Books all around," Giles confirmed. "If getting him back to his own time," Lister said with a jerk of his thumb toward Ace, "involves me leaving Earth, he's going to have to get used to the here and now. I'm not leaving." "'Fraid you can't decide that, Skipper," Ace said, tossing his tresses into Rimmer's face. "Don't have the right. Buggering up the entire history of the world." "That's right, Listy," Rimmer taunted. "Don't want to create a world where Captain Gitface wouldn't be born. What would you do without the love of your miserable existence, eh?" "But if Ace is never born, maybe that means you won't be born, either," Willow pointed out. "This could change everything forever." Rimmer's face crumpled with rage. Willow gulped and scooted a little further from him. "He's right," Giles said. "We can't take a chance with the fate of the world." "I thought that was what we did all the time," Buffy said. "Only the saving thing," Xander put in. "We don't do much else with fate, do we?" "Look, I don't care about fate," Lister snapped. "I don't care about history. This is home. I'm not smegging leaving, and that's final!" He stomped out the back door and lit a cigarette. He blew out a puff of smoke and stared up at the stars. He'd spent so many years among them. Too many. "Bloody stars," he muttered to himself. "No way am I going back out there." "I know the feeling." Startled, Lister turned to find Buffy standing behind him. Her arms were folded across her chest and her expression was unreadable. "What would you know about it?" "More than you think." She sat herself down at the little cafe table and rested her chin in her hand. "Fate's a bitch sometimes." "I said I'm not leaving." "I heard you. Look, we'll try real hard to find a way for you to stay, but you might have to go. We'll do what we can. It just might not be enough." "You don't understand. I've been out there for six million smegging years, just trying to get home again. That's all I ever wanted - that and a hot dog stand on Fiji. I had this plan, see. I was gonna have the hot dog stand, and a farm and a pair of horses and Christine Kochanski was going to be with me and ride the horses in a white dress. And we were gonna have two sons - Jim and Bexley. It was me plan. All that's left of it is being here on Earth. I'm not letting anyone take that away from me. It's all I want." "Like the man said, you can't always get what you want." Buffy sighed and moved to Dave's side. "Look, I know it really, really blows, but sometimes you don't get the choice. Sometimes you have to do what's right, even if it seems like it's gonna kill you." "Yeah? And what would you know about that?" He turned on her. "Tell me what you've ever done that you didn't want to?" "I died. I sent the man I loved to Hell. Literally. I got expelled from my school for saving my entire class at the Prom. And now it looks like I'm giving up on being with the perfect guy for me because someday we might break up and have badness, and I can't chance that. There's too much at stake. Speaking of which... I'll be right back." Buffy darted into the darkness, dropping a wooden stake from her sleeve as she went. Lister could hear a brief scuffle in the shrubbery. Moments later, Buffy re-emerged, dusting herself off. "What just happened?" he asked. "I... don't suppose you'd believe me if I said that was a mouse, would you?" "No. Not really." Buffy sat again. She gestured for Lister to join her. "Okay," she said. "Not a mouse. Or a rat, or a stray dog, or a goldfish taking the air. It was a vampire." "Like Dracula? No way!" "Way. Vamps are real. It's my job to slay them. I'm the Slayer. Giles is my Watcher. He trains me and helps me with the prophecies and stuff." "So Giles is this perfect guy?" "How did you know that?" "Hey, I'm not blind. I've seen how you two look at each other. And I know a thing or two about this unrequited love thing." "Actually, requiting doesn't seem to be the problem. More like we're not supposed to - with some darn good reasons." She sighed and slumped in her chair. "Will's right. If I get together with Giles and it doesn't work out, it'll be even worse than my last breakup - and that's the guy I sent to Hell. Though he came back. He's in LA now." "Yeah? Not much to choose between LA and Hell, is there? So you're not even going to try with Giles?" "Too risky." She shook her head and took a deep, shaky breath. "I'll just die and leave him alone and miserable, or else I'll do something else that'll make things even worse than that." "Look," Lister said, "I'll make you a deal: you give romance with Giles a shot, and I'll listen if it turns out I can't stay." "Huh?" "I mean it, Buffy. I'll cooperate with fate if you take a chance on love." "Okay... hearing the words, but not understanding them. I'm suddenly flashing back to my French class, and it's not a good place." "You know about fate, right?" At the girl's nod, Lister continued. "Well, I know about playing it too safe. I was so in love with Christine Kochanski... I'd have given up anything for her, been anything she wanted me to be. I'd have dressed like a complete smeghead and given up curry, if that's what she wanted. That's how much I loved her. But I never did anything about it. By the time I got up the nerve to say something, she'd been dead for three million years, and I got the impression that might be leaving it just a bit late. I've never loved anyone or anything else like I loved her, and I never got the chance to show her. All because I was too afraid to try." "But what if things hadn't worked out?" "We'll never know, will we? And it might have worked. We might have had a farm and a hot dog stand on Fiji, and she might have ridden the horses wearing a white dress. Even if we didn't get that, I might at least be able to remember laughing with her and arguing with her and making love with her, instead of just chatting her up on my way into the Captain's office for a dressing down. Holly says I talked more to my rubber plant than I did to the woman I loved. That's just smegging pathetic." "Yeah, well I sort of said something to Giles already and he turned me down flat. Said I didn't know what I wanted and don't play games with him. I don't know why I'm telling you this." "I dunno, either. But if he thinks you don't know your own mind, you have to show him you do." "How do I do that?" "You know him better than I do. You'll think of something." Maybe," she nodded. "But in the meantime, we have to figure out what to do with you and your friends." She stood. "Come on. Let's go inside and see what whammy fate has in store for you." * * * * * Despite several more hours of research, nobody discovered any clues as to how to solve their problem. Eventually, Giles closed his book firmly and stood. "I think it's high time you all went home to bed," he told them. "Somebody wake Xander and take him out of here." One by one, books closed with weary thumps, bodies stretched, and jaws gaped open in large yawns. Anya nudged her boyfriend awake and steered him toward the door. "'Night, Giles," Willow mumbled as she stumbled out into the night with Amy. "Good night, Rat Lady," Cat called frantically after them. "Call me! Day or night! Remember, I'm a love machine, and I'll work for you anytime at all!" As the object of his affections disappeared hastily into the night, he pulled out a comb and slicked back his hair with a suddenly casual air. "I don't want her thinking I'm desperate," he told the assembled crowd. "Just playing it cool. She'll come to me." "That was cool, Sir?" Kryten asked incredulously. "Subtle for Cat is painfully needy for the rest of us," Rimmer sneered. "You know you've just scared her off forever, don't you?" "Huh! Shows what you know, Mr. I Ain't Had A Date In Centuries! Ladies like my brand of cool. She'll crumble within a week." "She's a hell of a woman, that's for sure," Ace said thoughtfully. "I'd save her from a rabid space alsatian any day of the week, and that's a fact. You've got good taste in women, Cat, I'll give you that." "And on that note," Xander said uneasily, "I think Dave and I are taking off. Bye." "Yeah, I better get home. Dru's coming over in a little while," Oz added. "She's gonna tell me the name she gave all the stars. It's gonna be cool." "Do I have to go with him?" Rimmer asked. "Yes," Giles and Buffy chorused. The gang trooped out the door, leaving only Giles, Buffy, and Kryten behind. As the mechanoid began clearing away pizza boxes, Giles turned to Buffy. "I suppose you'd best go home, too," he said. "Yeah. I guess." She stood still, twisting her fingers. "But is it okay if I stay for a bit?" "Why?" "Kryten." She gestured to the robot. "He seems to be having fun cleaning up. Wouldn't want to spoil his good time, would we?" "Why do I get the feeling that's not the entire reason you want to stay?" Giles sighed. "Maybe because it's not." "Buffy, we've been over this. You're a lovely girl, and I'm flattered that you would show an interest in me, but..." "But you think I'm gonna rip your heart out and stomp it flat. Is that it? Or is it that I'm a lovely girl with most of my life behind me?" "Don't say that. You could live for... a good many years, yet." "Then what's the problem?" She took his hand. "Giles, I'm young, but I'm not stupid, and I'm not a little girl. And yes, you could meet someone else tomorrow who looks like a safer bet, but there's nothing to stop her being run over by a bus the day after that. Being scared is dumb." "Do you really want to have this conversation with an audience?" Giles asked. "Because in case you've forgotten, we have one right over there." "Take no notice of me, Sir," Kryten called merrily. "These dishes could take an hour. My, what fun! You just have your talk, and don't worry about a thing." "You're right," Buffy said with a grimace. "Maybe we should save this conversation for tomorrow... which is actually later today, at this point. But we're gonna have it. This isn't going away." With a final light squeeze of his hand, Buffy let go and turned for the door. "Hey, Kryten," she called, "let's go to my place." "And leave the dishes sitting here all dirty? It would be against my programming. I couldn't possibly do that!" "Yes, you could," Giles said firmly. "Go. I'll deal with that. Thank you for your help in cleaning up. Now get out." "Are you quite certain, sir? I could organize your linen closet, scrub your toilet, and improve your television reception in one easy step." Giles shot Buffy a desperate look. "Come on, Kryten," she said taking hold of his arm firmly. "There's more housework to do at my place." "Really?" The mechanoid seemed to perk up. "And truly," she laughed. "Let's go and let Giles have some alone time." She smiled at her Watcher. He smiled back. She steered the mechanoid out the door. "But we're still talking later," she called over her shoulder. He watched her disappear into the night. It was a long time before he shut the door, turned out the lights, and went to bed. * * * * * "Here it is," Xander announced with a sweeping gesture of his hand, "Casa de Harris. Fasten your seatbelts and leave your trays in the upright position. The lights are still on. That means someone passed out before they could crawl off to bed. We'll have to sneak past them." "Why do we have to sneak?" Lister asked. "Because we don't want them to wake up. It's not pretty when they wake up." Xander tiptoed to the door, carefully worked it open, gestured to Lister to stay quiet, and slowly crept into the room. His guest followed with equal care. When they got to the basement door, Lister stepped on a squeaky floorboard. They both froze. The only reaction from the burly man passed out next to the coffee table was a hearty snore. Xander let go of a sigh of relief and opened the door to semi-freedom. As soon as they were down the stairs, Xander relaxed completely. "Want a soda? Some chips? I've got a cooler down here. Don't try to use the hot plate, though. I think the cat peed on it again." He grabbed a candy bar from a secret stash under a pile of boxer shorts and peeled it open. "We'll have to share the bed, unless you want to use my sleeping bag. I think the cat peed on that, too." "That's okay," Lister said. "And you wouldn't have anything curry flavored, would you? I've never been this long without a vindaloo." "Sorry. No curry." He took a huge bite of candy bar. It didn't stop him from talking at the same time. "I don't think I've ever eaten anything curry. The only curry I know is Tim." "I wish I knew how to cook vindaloo. I'd make you a curry that would make you smell bad for a week. A really good one gets you sweating out of glands you didn't know you had. It's brilliant." "Well, you'll have to learn to make it," Xander said. He finished his chocolate and tossed the wrapper across the room, vaguely in the direction of the trash. "In the meantime, I'll introduce you to a few Earth delicacies like Micky D's." He pulled off his shirt and jeans, kicked off his sneakers, and lay down on the bed in his boxers. "For right now, though, it's time to go nappy-bye. 'Night, Dave." Lister looked mournfully around himself for a moment. The room was his idea of a great bachelor pad - or would be if it wasn't so preternaturally neat - and Xander was a great guy, but there was still a sense of displacement. He sighed and stripped down to his underwear, lay down next to Xander - but not too close - and closed his eyes. In moments, two sets of snores filled the room. * * * * * "Mom?" Buffy called as she sailed through the door. "Mom? Are you up?" Joyce appeared from the kitchen and smiled at her daughter. "Hi, Honey. Did you have a good time today? I hope Mr. Giles fed you, because I'm not cooking for you at this hour." "We had a pizza and research fest. I couldn't eat another bite. Well, I'm off to bed." She started hastily for the stairs, her robotic guest following on her heels. "Buffy?" She froze. "Yeah, Mom?" "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" Buffy winced. By the time she turned around, though, she'd managed to paste a wide smile on her face. "Oh. You noticed. Good. Mom, this is Kryten. Kryten, Mom. I mean Joyce. Summers. My mom. Well, it's been a long day, and I'm exhausted. I'm just gonna set Kryten up in the guest room and go to bed. 'Night, Mom." "Buffy, you come down here this instant and tell me why we have this... this... I'm not even sure what he is... staying with us." Shoulders slumped in defeat, Buffy obeyed. Kryten followed nervously. "I told you it wouldn't work, Miss Buffy," he fretted. "No matter how I try, I just wasn't programmed to sneak." "Okay, Mom, don't freak on me," Buffy began. "He's just staying a little while, until we can figure out where he's going from here. A night or two. Maybe a couple weeks. A month at the absolute outside. And he doesn't eat, and he can do all the cooking and cleaning and stuff. It'll be like having a live-in maid. Trust me, it'll be great." "Buffy, we only have one bathroom..." "Which he won't ever use." "Oh, but ladies," Kryten said, "I will. All the time. Why I just love scrubbing a commode, eradicating mildew from the tiling, and repairing leaky faucets. I only wish you had a dozen bathrooms! I could spend my entire day carefully handling your delicates in the sink. I also do laundry of a more utilitarian nature, sew on lost buttons, vacuum, weed the garden, and whip up a Spanish omelet with my whisk groinal attachment." "Groinal attachment?" Joyce gulped. "Oh don't you worry," Kryten said. "I can attach all manner of things to my groinal socket. Why, Miss Tracy used to say that I did the most amazing things to make her happy with it." "Miss Tracy?" Buffy asked. "Who's Miss Tracy? Is she joining the gang anytime soon?" "I fear not, Miss Buffy," the mechanoid sighed. "She was part of the first crew I served, before I met Mister Lister. She's dead now. In fact, she was dead for a very long time before I noticed. Oh! How time flies when you're doing housework." He shook his head sadly, then brightened almost immediately. "But then I met Mr. Lister, and now I'm here with you. Confidentially," he whispered, "I prefer to serve women. They have so many more precise needs, with their lacy underthings and dainty bits of china. Why, I'll be in hog heaven here! Please, let me stay." Buffy's eyes went wide and sad at her mother. Kryten took on the air of a puppy waiting to be kicked. Joyce looked from one to the other and knew she'd lost the battle already. She couldn't help a quick glance at Kryten's groinal socket. At last, she nodded in resignation. "Alright," she said. "He can stay. Tonight. But I want other arrangements made by the end of the week, do you understand that, Buffy?" "Sure. Whatever you say. You're the best, Mom!" She reached up and gave her mother an impulsive kiss on the cheek. "Thanks!" "Yes, thank you," Kryten said. He decided he'd better follow Buffy's lead, and he, too, kissed Joyce on the cheek. "Oh! I can't wait to get started! Do you have any laundry I can do for you?" "Yes," Joyce said, too surprised to even think of denying it. "Let me show you the washer." Buffy giggled as she watched them go. It was all a matter of knowing what buttons to press. She was still smiling when she went up the stairs to her room. She got undressed, put on her prettiest pink pajamas, and went to sleep, snuggling Mr. Gordo, but dreaming of Giles. * * * * * As for Giles himself, sleep was far from easy. He had no clue what to do about his extraterrestrial visitors. On the one hand, disturbing the timeline had to be a bad idea. On the other, not only was he unsure how to fix it, there was also the fact that Lister represented the end of mankind. Surely he couldn't be blamed for wanting to alter such a disturbing situation as that! Of course, then he'd be stuck with the lot of them. Lister was depressing enough, though not a bad person, once he'd been washed a bit. But Rimmer! And Ace was clearly heroic and handsome, but Giles didn't trust him on a gut level. The fellow had looked at Buffy in a way he didn't like. And speaking of Buffy... He sighed and resolutely refused to let his mind go there. She had looked at him with such desire, such devotion. But he couldn't trust that she understood what she wanted from him. It was too soon after Angel, and she was too young to understand what a declaration of love would mean to him. No, it was useless. He would simply have to convince her of that. And then he'd have to get all these annoying people out of his life. Unable to sleep, Giles decided to try again with the computer. He entered a search for time travel. The first site it produced was a cooking site featuring healthy, delicious meals produced with squid ink. "Bloody machine hates me," he grumbled. "Why doesn't someone cross-reference the internet properly?" * * * * * Ace Rimmer, Cat, and Arnold Rimmer sat in a tent in the Osborne's backyard, waiting for morning. "Man, I cannot believe those dudes," Cat said of his hosts. "I heard hippies had some style, but I was lied to." "Well what do you expect of a bunch of leftie communist peacenik gimboids?" Rimmer asked in disgust. "Bloody vegetarian Joan Baez-loving twerps. I'm sorry to have to say I'd rather spend eternity with Lister than this lot." "I wouldn't mind them if it wasn't for their bad clothes and the way I can't spend time with the lady rat here," Cat said. "What's the point of coming to Earth if I can't even get a date? I'm stuck looking at your ugly face all night. Man, if it wasn't for Ace, I'd set fire to myself." "Trust me, Cat," Ace muttered around his ever-present cigarette, "you're better off not trying to understand the women here. I've done my best to rescue two damsels in distress since I got here, and one of them knocked me to the floor. Other one hit me over the head with a PBS totebag. And Anya just yelled at me a lot. No, this is no place for a hero. Not to mention the fact she's got a man already. I'm out of time and out of place. Can't wait to go back to my adventures, out there where women know it takes a man to save them." He stubbed out his cigarette. "There's no room for a guy like me around here. Never thought I'd find someplace that was true. It's opened up my eyes." "To what?" Rimmer asked with minimal actual interest. "To just what sort of a man I am. All this time, I thought you were a weasel because of your nature. Maybe it's more. Maybe it's that you've lived your life in a dimension where there's just no room to be bigger than life. Maybe I've misjudged you." "You ain't misjudged him, Buddy," Cat assured Ace. "Captain Not-So-Courageous here *is* a weasel." * * * * * Amy and Willow snuggled together in Willow's bed for a good gossip. "So... Snyder got eaten at graduation? Damn! I'm sorry I missed it." "It was a little scary at the time," Willow admitted. "And it's probably wrong of me to feel this way, but later, it was sorta satisfying in a really, really mean kind of way." "What about Michael? Is he okay?" "Yeah," Willow said. "I see him once in a while. But he's... he's not the same. He gave up magic, stopped dying his hair and got a membership at the gym. Last time I saw him, he was talking about joining the Navy, for the educational opportunities. I don't think you'd really recognize him anymore." Amy lay back and stared at the ceiling. "That's probably the weirdest thing I've ever heard," she said sadly. * * * * * The next morning, Buffy woke and went into the bathroom to do her morning routine of showering, tooth brushing, and makeup applying. She blinked and threw up an arm to protect her eyes against the gleam of the tiles. "Great. Looks like Kryten found something to do with himself," she muttered under her breath. "If he's gonna do this every night, I'll need a whole new wardrobe of sunglasses. Then again, mall trips are never of the bad." Her heart was fairly light as she showered and prepared herself for the day. At least her extraterrestrial refugee seemed to be keeping himself occupied. Her mother was sure to be pleased that she could leave off cleaning the bathroom too intensely for a few days. More time for the gallery. More time Buffy could spend without parental supervision. More time she could spend convincing Giles that she was serious in her assertions of love. Now that was something to be happy about. She bounced down the stairs, humming a cheery tune. She came, however, to a complete and hasty stop when she saw the kitchen. "Mom...?" she asked uncertainly. "Mom, what is all this?" "Oh! Good morning, Honey. I was surprised, too." She waved her arm at the counter piled high with waffles, bacon, muffins, and three varieties of freshly-squeezed juice. "I came down a few minutes ago, and all this was just sitting here. Try the muffins. They're delicious." In stunned silence, Buffy reached for a plate and began to fill it. "Kryten did all this?" "I guess so. I know I wasn't too crazy about the idea last night, but I really think this might work out." She poured herself some grapefruit juice. "He did a great job on the laundry, too." "The bathroom sparkled," Buffy said. "Really sparkled. Not pretend sparkles. The germs had nowhere to hide. Where is he now?" "Outside spraying the roses for aphids. I won't know what to do with myself when I get home from work tonight!" Joyce sighed happily and bit into a slice of bacon. "Mmmm... I love a man who can cook." "Oh no, Mom," Buffy protested. "No. We're not going there again. Remember Ted? Remember the badness?" "I know, and I'm not going there," Joyce said. "Once bitten, twice shy, after all. I'm just saying Kryten is turning out to be very handy around the house, and I appreciate his help. That's all. Really." "Okay. As long as we're clear." She popped the last bite of her muffin into her mouth. "He really is a good cook. Anyway, I've got to go to Giles' again today. More research. Gotta fix the timestream. Don't get too attached to the housework bot, okay?" "Okay, okay." "And hands off my Watcher." "Believe me, I wasn't planning to put my hands on him... though I sometimes wonder why I shouldn't." "Because he's mine," Buffy glared. "And it's disturbing. And wrong." "I admit, a relationship with him isn't something I'm looking for. He's not really my type, after all. And I know you don't like to think about anyone over the age of twenty-five wanting companionship, but there's nothing wrong with enjoying a nice view of the opposite sex. And he's awfully good looking, even if you won't see it." With that, she turned and put her plate in the sink. By the time she turned around, Buffy had regained her composure and was no longer blushing. "So, what are your plans after research?" "I - I don't know. Maybe some training. Maybe some Earth in the twentieth century 101 for our friends from the future. Patrol. Check in with Giles." "Well don't forget to make time for a little fun," Joyce admonished. "Tell Giles you need some time off to hang out with your friends, maybe go on a date, if you meet someone nice. You're young. You need to spend time with your friends, and with boys. Don't let Giles take up all your time." "Don't worry. Giles probably won't want to take up all my time." "Do I detect the sound of a Watcher who's gotten himself a girlfriend?" "No, you don't." Buffy picked at another muffin. "Just one who might decide he needs more non-Buffy time in between apocalypses. It's - it's no big." "No big? Buffy, come on, you don't mean that. And I'm sure Giles doesn't want you to go away." She sat down and looked her daughter in the face. "Okay, what's really going on?" "Mom, I don't have time for this..." "Make time." "Mom, really, it's okay." "Buffy, don't fight me. You've shut me out of so many things in your life - and I understand why you felt you had to for so long. But what you don't seem to understand is that I want to be a part of your life. I want to help you with your problems. It's part of being a mom. Humor me. Talk to me." A part of Buffy wanted to do what her mother asked. The rest of her, however, was very sure she didn't want to try to explain the situation with Giles to her mother. Her mother who had slept with him. And liked it. No, that way led to madness, and probably an emasculated Giles. She almost heaved a sigh of relief when Kryten entered the room. Instead, she decided a strategic retreat was in order and tiptoed out of the room while nobody was looking. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Joyce?" the robot asked eagerly. "How about some cucumber sandwiches and a pot of tea? Or I could hose down the back stairs, repaint the guest room, tidy up the basement... even reshingle the roof, if you like. Just tell me and I'll do whatever you require." "Please," Joyce protested, "I'm getting tired just listening to you. What do you do when you're not doing housework?" "Not doing housework?" For an instant, the mechanoid's face dropped. Then he leaned in conspiratorially. "Well, when I get the chance, I like to watch Androids." "You like to watch androids...do what?" "No, no, Androids is a television program. The lives, loves, and betrayals of a group of androids. Oh my! How they all suffer! But in exotic places you and I can only dream of, and wearing expensive clothes, flying fancy shuttles, drinking the finest champagne. Clearly, it's true that money can't buy happiness." Joyce's ears pricked up. "You mean it's a soap opera? You like soap operas?" "Does the Pope like altar boys? Of course I do!" "Kryten," Joyce sighed happily, "this could be the start of a beautiful friendship." * * * * * Giles grunted in frustration. Another internet search for information on time travel had yielded sites devoted to Mexican folk art, an exposé of urban legends about hitchhikers, and Beverley Hills 90210 fanfiction. "How on earth does this wretched machine come up with these inane connections?" he fumed. "Isn't there anything useful on the information superhighway?" He looked up when there was a slightly timid knock on the door. He glared at the computer. "Consider yourself lucky for the interruption," he told it sternly. Giles stood and walked to the door. He started slightly when he saw who was standing on his doorstep. "Buffy?" "Yup. It's me. You gonna let me in?" "What are you doing knocking on my door? You never knock." "I thought it might be the mature thing to do. The grownup thing. But it's beginning to look like the dumb, annoying, stand out in the cold thing." "Hardly cold," Giles said with a smile as he opened the door and let her in. "It's July, in case you've forgotten." "Yeah, yeah, and it's Tuesday, and it's the age of Aquarius... except that right now it's all about that crab Cancer, until Leo the lion kicks in." She sat on the sofa and raised an eyebrow at him. "Tea?" "I thought you'd never ask," he grumbled as he headed for the kitchen. "Anything else you'd like? Eggs? Jelly donuts? The Hope diamond, perhaps?" "No, just a few minutes of your time before the gang's all here." She smiled when he handed her a steaming mug. "Sit down and get comfortable. We have a lot to talk about." "Buffy, you do realize the others will be here in a very short time, don't you?" Giles said. "If you want to have a long talk, this may not be the time for it." "And if you keep putting it off, it won't happen. We can at least get started before everybody else gets here. That way, we can move on to thinking about step two instead of step one." "Alright," he sighed as he sat next to her. "I've been thinking about this all night... and the more I think... the more I can't help thinking... this isn't a terribly good idea." "Really?" Her voice shook. "You mean... you wouldn't even try one date?" "Buffy, I don't think you fully understand what this would look like... how people would react. I'm a great deal older than you..." "And Angel wasn't?" "Yes, he was, but he didn't look it." "I told Mom he was a college student," she shrugged. "Mom believed me. He looked a little older than me. I mean... I don't look like a college student, do I?" "Bloody hell!" Giles stood, stuffed his hands in his pockets and strode to his desk. "I should damn well hope you do, since that's exactly what you'll be in two months' time." He rubbed one hand over his chin. "I don't know if I can do this." "Chill, Giles, I'm eighteen. It's legal. Just ask my dad. His last girlfriend looked like she was barely out of training pants. Compared to him, you won't look immoral at all. At least you've known me more than a week." "Yes, of course, comparing me to your father and his pet mid-life crisis helps immensely." Giles pinched his nose under his glasses. "Did you ever stop to think you won't be the only one getting tasteless comments about your choice of partner?" "Yes, I did think you'd get some, too." She went to his side. "And I guess it never occurred to me that you hadn't already had to deal with that. I sorta figured someone had to have accused you of doing it with me by now." He stared at her in confusion. "Wow," she continued. "Okay. So...it's just been me. Guess everyone thought you had good taste, or else they were afraid you'd smack them around if they said anything to you. I had at least three teachers take me aside to ask about my 'inappropriate' relationship with the librarian. I'm guessing it never occurred to Snyder, or he'd have had you on a plane back to England faster than you could say 'Union Jack'." "No, it did occur to him," Giles admitted uncomfortably. "About two minutes after I shoved him up against a filing cabinet to convince him to reinstate you to the school for your senior year." "I take it you then 'convinced' him that he was wrong if he knew what was good for him?" She couldn't help laughing. "My hero." "No, I believe you're mine." "Not yet, but I could be, if you'd just listen to reason." "Buffy," Giles sighed, "you're not listening to *me*. I said I can't do this. I'm sorry, but between our relationship as Watcher and Slayer, the difference in our ages... I'm not ready to risk our friendship on what could turn out to be a - a fling." "F - fling?" Buffy's eyes went wide and her chin began to wobble. "Is that what you think? That all I want is... is your body for a little while? That's really what you think, isn't it?" "I never said that. If you'd just listen to me..." "I'd hear you clucking." When he screwed up his face in confusion she continued. "You...do that, sometimes, when you're mad. You make this funny clucking sound." Her eyes went wide with horror. "Ohmigod! Not that I think you're chicken. You are so not a chicken. You're about the bravest person I know..." "I'm not a chicken, but I sound like one, is that it?" "Only sometimes," she told him in a small voice. Her fingers twisted nervously together. "Just when you're mad and you don't want to say. And not always then, either. Just... sometimes. Once in a blue moon, y'know?" For a long moment, he stared blankly at her. She tried to meet his eyes, but couldn't. She was too busy wishing for the floor to open up and swallow her whole. At last, he chuckled breathlessly and sat down on the sofa. "Come here," he said, patting the cushion next to his. "Please, Buffy. I'm not angry." "So... no biting, right?" She sat next to him, her posture stiff as if prepared for battle in a seated position. "No, no biting. Are you comfortable?" "Not really, no." "Well, at least we have that in common." He smiled wryly at her. "What you need to understand is that, whatever you think you're feeling right now - and I must say it's quite flattering to me - you're still very young. You haven't really dated that many boys, either. If I accepted your... very generous offer, I can't help feeling I'd be doing you a disservice, however it turned out. You should have the chance to be with someone who can share your world in a way a stuffy, middle-aged bookworm can't possibly hope to." His gaze dropped to his hands. "And I know you think I'm safe... harmless... but I'm really not. There's a - a darkness in me. I try to keep it in check, but it's always there. It won't ever go away. I have to say no to you, as much as I wish I could say yes, if for no other reason, because I couldn't live with myself if I was responsible for... for snuffing out your brightness." "Not feeling so bright about now," she said in a shaky voice. "Buffy, please try to understand..." His hand reached involuntarily for her cheek, but she twisted away and stood before he could actually touch her. "No, it's okay. The answer's no. I heard you. I...I gotta go to the bathroom." She raced down the short hall and slammed the door behind herself just in time for the tears to burst through. She turned on the taps in the sink to cover the sound of her sobs and sat on the edge of the tub. Through the door, she could hear the rest of the gang trouping in. Xander's cheery jokes seemed a particular insult - especially when Giles laughed at one. * * * * * Amy followed Willow reluctantly to Giles' door. What if that freaky guy with the vampire teeth was still there? She knew he wasn't really a vampire. After all, he'd been out in the sun and hadn't caught fire and exploded into dust. Still, he looked wrong, and he kept staring at her in a way that could only be described as... hungry. She sighed and pulled up the shoulder strap on the overalls Willow had loaned her to wear. At least they were a better fit than Buffy's sweats. And since Willow tended to favor slightly baggy shirts, she had a comfortable blouse, too. "Come on, Amy. We're gonna be late," Willow urged. "And if we're late, Xander hogs all the best donuts." "As long as there's something other than a cheese danish, I think I'll be okay." "Sick of cheese?" "I may never be able to look a hunk of Gouda in the face again," she grimaced. "And I don't think there are a lot of Ferris wheel rides in my future, either." "I guess that career in medicine is out for you, too," Willow said with a giggle. "'Cause of the labwork." "Exactly." She turned more serious. "Right now... I don't know if there's really a place for me, anymore. I mean... seven months. I spent seven months in a cage in your room, eating cheese and running on a little wheel. My whole class graduated. The school exploded. My dad's in Europe, and nobody's seen my mom since the night she tried to kill Buffy. Not that I want to see her, but... it's weird that she's gone. I feel... sort of like... I dunno, like there's nowhere I belong, anymore. Do you ever feel like that?" "I did for about a day after Oz and I broke up. But I'm better now. Getting the orientation packet for UC Sunnydale helped. As long as there's somewhere for me to shine academically, I'll always have a place in the universe. Oh! Not that you don't, 'cause you do. Have a place. We just need to figure out where that is." Willow smiled broadly at her friend and opened Giles' door. The pair walked in. "Ah, Willow, Amy, good," Giles said. His greeting seemed oddly distracted. "Now we can get started. Um... Willow... I'd start with Blackthorne's Miscellany." He handed over the volume, then passed on to her companion. "And, you, Amy, you can begin with Astro-Metaphysical Phenomena in Prophecy." The girls looked at Giles, then at one another, then switched books as soon as he was looking in a different direction. "What's up with Mr. Giles?" Amy asked under her breath. "He never hands someone the wrong book." "I dunno, but I have a bad feeling about this." Willow closed her book and stood, turning toward the rear of the apartment. "I'll be right back," she announced. "Oh! Oh...Willow...um..." "It's okay, Giles. I already figured out that's where Buffy is." When she got to the bathroom, she knocked on the door before she could talk herself out of it. "Buffy? Can I come in?" A stifled gulping sob was the only reply. "Buffy, come on," Willow urged. "I need to get in there, if you know what I mean." Seconds later, she heard splashing water, then footsteps, and finally the lock being thrown. Buffy opened the door. "Sorry, Will," she said, making an obvious - if unsuccessful - attempt to smile. "I... had to... I mean..." "It's okay, Buff," Willow said sympathetically. "Giles is kinda zoning, too. You wanna talk about it?" "I thought you..." She gestured vaguely. "Oh! No. No, I don't need..." Willow copied Buffy's gesture. "I'm fine. But you're not. Fine. So, if you want to talk, talk. I guess you already did that with Giles?" "And it was great," Buffy snarked as she resumed her seat on the edge of the tub. Willow sat next to her friend. "I got to hear again all about how I'm too young and he's too old and nobody will understand, and I'll probably just smash his heart to little pieces, anyway. But in the end, he's turning me down for my own good because I need to date boys who like the shallow end of the Buffy waters... which is a nice way of saying I'm not... experienced enough for him." "Y - you mean..." Willow gulped nervously, and dropped her voice, "like... as in... sex?" "Let's face it. I did it once a year and a half ago. And that turned Angel into a monster. Maybe he's scared it wasn't the curse. Maybe it's me and he just doesn't want to tell me. Oh God!" She buried her face in her hands. "I'm a monster maker!" "No, you're not, Buffy. You just... got unlucky. Way unlucky, but it could have happened to anyone. It could have been me, if I'd liked Angel, and he'd liked me, and you weren't there, but I knew him, anyway, and Oz wasn't there... which he wasn't when you guys started going out... but... I forget. Where was I?" "There but for fortune, I think. And making my head hurt." "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you all headachy." "Will, what am I gonna do?" "Well, first, you're gonna wash your face and come out of the bathroom." "Raccoon eyes?" "Let's just say I'm expecting you to wash your jelly donut before you eat it. 'Cause that's what raccoons do. They wash their food..." "Yeah, I got it. Okay, cleanup first. After all, why humiliate myself more than I already have for one day? But later, I'm writing a nasty letter to the company that made this mascara. It's supposed to be waterproof." "Waterproof is one thing. I don't think they make the floodproof kind." * * * * * As the day progressed, Buffy and Giles both managed to find enough composure to work in the same room. They still, however, did their best to avoid contact and conversation as much as possible. Even Xander was relatively quiet in reaction to the strained atmosphere. After a couple half-hearted attempts at humor, he stuck his nose resolutely in his book and tried to stay out of the potential line of fire. When Lister looked as if he might try to say something, Xander caught his eye and shook his head. "I wouldn't say anything right now," he said under his breath. "If they notice you, you'll regret it. Probably for the rest of your very short life." "What's the matter with them?" Lister whispered back. "I've seen Rimmer be more fun - and that was when he tried to tell me every move in a Risk game he played three million and fifteen smegging years ago." "Ooh, these two will be alright... eventually. But when they get like this, it's better to just duck and cover, if you know what I mean." "You mean this isn't the first time they've been like this?" "Of course not," Anya butted in. "They get like this a lot. Sometimes I wish they would just have intercourse and get it over with." "An... bad image! Bad! I told you not to make me think about Buffy and Giles... doing that, anymore." Xander scolded. He turned back to Lister. "She's a little new at the whole being human thing, so sometimes she gets these wacky ideas in her pretty little head." "What's so wacky about it?" Lister asked. "If he wants to and she wants to, I don't see how it's a problem." "It's a problem if it doesn't work out," Willow leaned over to say. "If you think this is bad, think about what it would be like if they... y'know, got together, and then they didn't stay together. If they broke up, it would be bad. And scary. And might even be a little dangerous to be around. Giles never stops being mad. And Buffy? Well, she stops, but before she stops, she hits stuff. It could get kinda not fun." "Yes, as fascinating as my non-existent romance with Buffy may be," Giles drawled, "discussing it does nothing to solve our current dilemma, which is - if you'll cast your minds back to this morning - how to get Ace back to his time and dimension without removing Lister from ours. Please confine your studies to that question." He glared at them all and moved off. A moment later, Buffy streaked out the back door. * * * * * "Oh! Oh my, that was sad!" Kryten blubbed into a lace-trimmed hanky. "And he never knew she was blind?" "No," Joyce sniffled. "And she never figured out he was deaf, either. Isn't that romantic?" Kryten couldn't answer in words. He nodded emphatically and blew his nose. His shoulders shook suspiciously, as well. "Oh, Kryten, it's okay," Joyce said sympathetically. "It's not real, you know." "How can you say that Miss Joyce? Why, their love is eternal!" "Well, yes... except that they're not real," she explained. "You do know that, don't you? That they're just made up people?" "M-made up?" "As in imaginary. Fictional. They don't really have feelings at all, because they don't exist." "Are you sure?" "Very sure." Kryten considered this for a moment. He turned to Joyce. "Really, really sure?" "Absolutely certain." "What about other films? Are the people in them imaginary, too?" "Yes, they are. That's why Rick in Casablanca and Charlie in the African Queen look so much alike. They're both played by the same man." "Why... that's amazing!" Kryten exclaimed. "I always thought Humphrey Bogart had multiple personality disorder. How do you know so much about the cinema, Miss Joyce?" "I've just watched a lot of movies, I guess," she said. "And since I found out Buffy's the Slayer... well, let's just say I've been watching more than ever lately." "Now, now," Kryten said, patting Joyce's knee in a comforting way, "I wouldn't worry about Miss Buffy. She'll be just fine." "How can you be so sure?" "Well, from what I hear, the monsters are all scared of her. And she knocked Mr. Ace on his heroic arse! We were all surprised by that. Imagine! A woman failing to be overwhelmed by Mr. Ace's charms. Why, it's unthinkable!" "Who's Mr. Ace?" "Oh, he's wonderful, Miss Joyce! The perfect man." "And Buffy hit him?" "That's what I hear." Joyce shook her head. "I just don't get her sometimes. What's gotten into her, lately?" "Into her?" Kryten puzzled. "I don't understand. Does she have a parasite? Should I give her a high colonic to flush it out?" "No! No, really, that won't be necessary, thanks." She shuddered. After a moment, she began to blink, and her hands twisted the square of lace-edged linen in her hands. "I just... it's silly, I know, but I worry so about Buffy. I know she's the Slayer and she's a superhero and she saves the world, but she's my little girl, too. I want her to be happy. She isn't. I can tell she's not. But I don't know what to do about it - how to make her... how to give her what she needs." "There, there, Miss Joyce," the mechanoid said, patting her knee. "I'm sure Miss Buffy will be just fine." He stopped patting, but the hand remained on Joyce's knee. "I've only known you for a few hours, but already I can tell that you're a wonderful mother. You're a - if you don't mind my saying so - well... you're a wonderful woman." "Really?" she asked breathlessly. "Do you really think so?" "Oh, I do! I do." She met his eye. Something flashed between them. Kryten's hand moved slightly higher on Joyce's leg. "Tell me." Her voice was low in pitch and soft in tone, but it was unmistakably an order not to be ignored. "Tell me, Kryten... everything you can attach to that groinal socket of yours." "What would you like me to attach? Vacuum hose? Egg whisk? Fire extinguisher? If it's cylindrical in shape and uses either water or electricity, chances are, it will work." "And... if it's battery-operated?" she gulped. "Will that work, too?" "You mean... you want me to... to... recharge your mobile phone?" He went glassy-eyed and breathless at the mere thought. "It would be my pleasure - no - my honor to do that small service for you." "No, not that." At his disappointed look, she reached out to touch his cheek. "I was thinking of something... more intimate." "Oh Miss Joyce... are you really asking me to... to... be your flashlight?" "Oh, Kryten," she shuddered pleasurably. "Would you? Would you really?" "I would! I would!" Their faces inched closer. Joyce's eyes drifted shut. Kryten swallowed nervously. He leaned still further in. The pair leapt back, their faces the very definition of innocence as the door slammed open and Buffy stomped into the room. "I hate men!" she spat. Kryten and Joyce watched in shock as Buffy marched up the staircase. When she got to the top, she turned and called down to her mother. "Ted, Mom! That's all I'm saying!" Her bedroom door slammed shut a second or two later. Joyce sighed. "I should go talk to her." "Do you really think that's wise?" Kryten asked nervously. "She might have weapons." "She does, but she won't use them on me." Joyce patted the mechanoid's thigh. "Trust me. I'm her mother. I'll be okay. And when I get back, we can talk about... all the little things you can do for me around here." "Perhaps I should start by closing the front door." "You think of everything, don't you?" she sighed happily. "I'll be back in a minute." * * * * * "Hey, Rat Lady," Cat called from across Giles' living room. "Can I get you anything? Tea? Soda? The key to my heart? I forgot - you already have that." Amy shuddered and turned panicked eyes to Willow. "This guy is really creeping me out," she whispered. "Can you get him to stop with the Fatal Attraction?" "Don't worry," Willow whispered back. "Just keep ignoring him, and maybe he'll leave you alone." "Rat Lady, I want to have little mutant kittyrat babies with you!" "Or, possibly not." Aloud, Willow had more to say. "I think she's good, right now, thanks." "Cat," Lister hissed, "what do you think you're doing? Can't you tell she's not interested?" "Her friend's lips say no, but her little ratty heart says 'come to mama, big boy'!" Cat sighed. "I can hear it from over here." "Actually," Xander said, "I think her heart is saying 'Calgon, take me away', but that could just be me. I have sort of a thing about women in bubble baths." "You never told me that," Anya said, hurt lacing her voice. "And after I told you about my unquenchable lust for the Spiderman theme!" "Spiderman," Rimmer sneered. "Now there's a complete and utter git. Sticks to buildings, disappears as soon as the law arrives, and when you take off the mask, he's a skinny juvenile delinquent with a face like a