•••

“Buffy?” Dawn murmured from her desk in the office.

“Yeah?” Buffy asked, distracted by the database she was trying to update.

“Why did Napoleon attack Accra?”

“Umm…” The Slayer frowned and squinted at the computer screen. “What? Napoleon? Dawn, you know I don’t remember that stuff.”

Dawn grinned. “Yeah, but it’s fun to ask.”

“Try Willow. She remembers stuff from college better than I do,” Buffy suggested. “And you can ask her what she was thinking when she renamed all the fields in our client database!”

“Right,” Dawn muttered as she picked up her books and left to find the redhead. The young woman knew exactly what Willow had been thinking when she’d edited the database—making it logical for once. Buffy, bless her heart, had a rather nasty habit of naming fields such things as ‘icky stuff’ and ‘really bad guys’. The categories only made sense to the Slayer. After all, Dawn herself thought that Galki bile was icky stuff, but to Buffy it was only ‘sticky residue’.

As Dawn had suspected, Willow was in her apartment, studying at her desk. Like Dawn, she was in college, although significantly further along. The redhead couldn’t stand the distractions of Eos’ offices, so she never studied there. “Willow?” Dawn murmured as she knocked on the open door.

Willow spun around in her chair. “Dawn!” She got up and crossed the room to usher Dawn in. “Whatcha need?”

Dawn grinned and hefted her history book. “Napoleon. Mediterranean campaigns. Help.”

“Ah, History class. Still a case of serious not-like?” Willow remarked lightly.

“Oh yeah, we’re talking ‘don’t call me, I’ll call you, not-like’. Who cares about Napoleon before he did the whole emperor thingy anyway?” Dawn asked as she flopped down on Willow’s couch.

Willow grinned. “It’s important so that you understand…his motivations!”

“You just made that up,” Dawn accused. “I know that grin. It’s the ‘I’m bullshitting the squirt’ face.”

“Me? I’d never,” Willow defended. “But I will let you look at my notes from last term,” She offered. “I didn’t have a crappy grad student teaching history back then.”

Dawn nodded vigorously. “That’d be great, Wills. I want to get this done before the club opens.”

“Singing tonight?” The redhead asked as she flipped through her CDs to find her history notes.

“Nah, but I might dare Buffy into doing it—just to see the look on Lorne’s face. It’s priceless, you know,” She replied.

Willow tossed the CD to Dawn. “It is. Too bad I’m gonna miss it,” She murmured. Thursday evenings were when Willow went to therapy.

“Yeah, but maybe next time…” Dawn said as she stood to leave. “Or tomorrow. I’ve been thinking about trying that new place near campus. You know, the one with a regular, all-human clientele?”

“Hmm…” Willow hummed. She knew the place—it was a new gay club that had opened a couple of months ago. “I should work with Buffy on our client list. Maybe next time.”

Dawn nodded, obviously disappointed. She left after that, to finish her assignments and get ready to be entertained by Lorne and his other clientele. Once she got back to her room, she found that Willow’s notes had everything she needed to finish her writing, so she was left with plenty of time to kill. She almost went back down to the redhead’s room, to bug her for an hour or so, but decided against it. Willow got uncomfortable whenever she spent lots of idle time alone with her.

That bothered Dawn a lot. She liked Willow—and not just in a ‘you’re my sister’s best friend, and a pretty good person besides’ kind of way. All through high school Willow had been there for moral and academic support, just as Dawn had provided for the recovering witch during her therapy. They’d been as close as sisters, ganging up on Buffy and Lorne, playing jokes on them.

Then Dawn brought home her first girlfriend.

Buffy had choked a little, mostly because she’d only heard Dawn talk about boys before. Dawn just shrugged and said that she hadn’t met a girl she’d wanted to date before. Lorne had been a big help, since he honestly didn’t care about stuff like that. Buffy soon settled down, especially after Dawn and Lorne convinced her that it wasn’t some weird phase Dawn was going through, or a strange attempt to relate better to Willow, or any other cheap teenage trick. Ironically, it had been Willow who’d taken it the worst.

The redhead never talked about it with Dawn—at all. Before that incident, she’d listened and joked with Dawn about the young girl’s procession of boyfriends, laughing at how quickly they were discarded. Once she brought home a girl, it all ended. Willow made it very clear, without saying a word, that she no longer wanted to discuss Dawn’s personal life, in any way. At first, Dawn thought that it was because the entire situation reminded her of Tara, but she discarded that rather quickly. Willow had gotten past the point where thinking about Tara and mentioning her late lover caused her enormous pain. Dawn even asked Lorne about it, but the green demon could provide no answers. For a while Dawn struggled with Willow’s change in behavior, before giving up on ever getting things back to normal. She stopped bringing people home and Willow relaxed a lot.

But now she and Willow were on a more even keel. Before, it had been Dawn the kid and Willow the grown-up. However, with both of them enrolled in college, they were just another couple of university students. Even Buffy had stopped treating Dawn like a child, giving her more responsibility in the office and really pushing her at her physical training. Still, Willow acted like a huge chunk of Dawn’s life simply didn’t exist… much like that same part of Willow’s life just wasn’t there.

Willow’s lack of a social life continued to bother Dawn. Oh, the redhead talked to people on campus and did things with the other investigators, but she didn’t date—ever. Back in high school, before the whole Dawn-meets-cute-girl fiasco, she’d even tried to set Willow up. No dice, and a stern lecture taught her to never do it again.

Which was just fine with Dawn, because she knew exactly who she’d set Willow up with now, and that person wouldn’t appreciate the redhead going out with anyone else. She knew this because she was the person who wanted to date Willow. Dawn had had a crush on the other woman for a long time, ever since her senior year of college. She realized it shortly after the failed blind date. At one point, she’d thought that Willow might have had an interest in her. Now, though, she couldn’t tell for sure. Willow was so closed off about things like that, as though they didn’t exist for her anymore.

So Dawn was stuck wanting someone who lived like a nun. Unbeknownst to Willow, her attitude toward Dawn was a large part of what drove the younger girl to see so many people in quick succession. Dawn was so frustrated that she looked for physical release wherever she could find it, proving to herself that she, at least, could feel and enjoy her body. If Willow was going to waste away, fine. Dawn would have fun for both of them.

•••

“Keep your pants on!” Buffy yelled at the office door. It was just her luck that some bozo would start pounding on it right as she was juggling the phone, an urgent e-mail, and a recalcitrant printer cartridge. She gave up on the printer, ignored the e-mail, and told the Fraternal Order of Police that she would only donate to them if they’d start arresting rapists and wife-beaters. Then, and only then, did she answer the door.

“You rang?” She began, before really seeing who was on the other side of the door. “Giles?!” The Slayer enveloped her former Watcher in a massive hug.

Giles smiled softly and returned the gesture. Underneath the shock, he heard a current of happiness in Buffy’s voice. Perhaps she was glad to see him. “Buffy. I see that Los Angeles has sharpened your tongue a bit.”

Buffy grimaced. “They keep calling, even when I tell them to stop. I think Angel might have actually given them some money.” She frowned briefly. “Oh, what am I thinking? Come in!” She stepped aside and ushered the older man inside. “And what are you doing here?”

“Still direct, I see,” Giles murmured. “Actually, I am here on business.”

“What kind?” She inquired as she closed the door.

“You know, of course, about the Watchers’ Council’s… rehabilitation,” Giles began. “I have been a part of that effort.”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, I get the e-mails.”

“The Council has sent me here in an official capacity, Buffy,” Giles continued nervously.

“Official? How official?” She asked cautiously.

“They would be… delighted if you would return to the fold,” He said quietly.

She just stared. “Return… as in, let someone tell me how to do my job?” She said, her voice rising.

Giles looked up sharply. “No! Not at all, Buffy. Things have changed… many things.”

“Uh huh. Yeah, I read about the ‘new guard’ trying to revamp the way stuff is done, but I don’t really see…” She replied, her voice trailing off.

“No one would try to order you about,” Giles replied. “Even the most stubborn members of the Council admit that you do know how to do your job.”

“Then why the ‘come back, come back,’ thing?” Buffy asked.

“Several reasons, really,” Giles said. “Foremost, however, is that the relationship between the Council and the Slayer is symbiotic. The Slayer benefits from the Council’s collected knowledge and experience,” He began. “And the Council in turn learns a great deal from the Slayer.”

“Yeah, like what not to do,” She muttered, remembering all those stories about how her predecessors died young.

“They—We, would like your help,” He stated. “You have lived far longer than any Slayer before you, and I alone can only provide a limited amount of information regarding why this is so. After all, I haven’t been your Watcher for several years.”

Buffy frowned. “So you guys want to watch me work so you can figure out how to make a better Slayer?”

“We want to be able to help Slayers live longer lives,” Giles replied softly. “Before the upheaval, none of those in power would listen to me, when I told them that your unorthodox methods were superior. Now, though, they are more willing to look at new ideas.”

“Ah,” Buffy murmured. “And that’s why you’re here?”

“There is more,” Giles admitted.

“What more?”

“Faith.”

Buffy jumped out of her chair. “What about her? She’s still locked up, safe and sound in jail.”

Giles winced. “Yes, she is. We have kept an eye on her, unofficially, of course. In her own way, she is as unique as you are, Buffy.”

“Explain,” Buffy demanded, obviously angry. She did not like talking about Faith.

“She is far older than any Slayer, other than yourself. The reasons why this is so are of course different,” Giles reminded her. “And you do realize that if she survives prison, and from everything we can tell she is a model prisoner, she will be extraordinarily old when she is released.”

“As opposed to me, who’ll be dead by then?” Buffy snapped.

Giles sighed. “No, Buffy, that is not what I meant. You will still be older than Faith when she gets out of prison. However, for now she runs less of a risk of dying—she is protected. When she gets out, though…”

“You guys want to be here to do something with her?” Buffy guessed. “Like maybe lock her in a cage?”

“If that is what it takes, yes,” Giles replied. “The Council made a grave error before, when they wiped their hands of her. It cannot be allowed to happen again.”

“You’ve got that right,” Buffy growled. “Because if she gets out and goes nuts again, I’m making sure she either dies or gets locked away for the rest of her life.”

“If that is what must be done, the Council is prepared,” Giles murmured.

Buffy relaxed a little. If Giles really had any power in the Council now, she could afford a little cautious optimism. “So, if, and I repeat IF, I agree to this, who would be my Watcher?”

Giles smiled. “Oh, that would be me, of course.” He endured another Slayer-powered hug as Buffy squealed and jumped around.

“Oh, just wait until Dawn and Willow hear about this!” Buffy crowed. “You’re moving to Los Angeles! You’ll live in the hotel, of course. I mean, we’ve got all these apartments. You won’t even have to use one of the guys’ old ones…”

“Ah, yes. Angel,” Giles said sadly. “I know it must have been hard on you, to lose all of them like that.”

Buffy cocked her head and looked at Giles oddly. She wasn’t sure if he was being serious or just playing along. If it was the former, then the Watchers still had some work to do on surveillance. If it was the latter, he was really good. Her gut said that Giles didn’t know the others were still alive. “We’re coping ok,” She hedged after a moment. “So, why don’t we go downstairs while we wait for Dawn and Willow to get out of class?”

“As you wish,” Giles said, following Buffy out of the office. The Slayer stopped cold in the doorway and looked back at the computer. She should probably check that e-mail.

“Um… hold on a sec, ok? I need to see what this is.” Buffy jogged back to the computer and opened the message. Fortunately, it wasn’t a vision-message, although it was a rather significant e-mail, from one of their better-paying clients. She filed it for Willow and turned off the monitor. “Sorry, needed to take care of business.”

“Ah,” Giles murmured. He was inordinately pleased to see that Buffy was taking to working at the investigative firm so well. When they got downstairs and entered Caritas, Giles found himself unable to resist asking about its owner. “This would be Lorne’s club?”

“Mm hmm,” Buffy hummed. “He’s around here somewhere—he said he had to do inventory or something this morning.” Just then Lorne walked out of his office.

“Buffy!” He exclaimed, walking over to his lover. He embraced her briefly, pressing a quick kiss on her forehead. “And who is this charming gentleman?”

Buffy grinned. “Rupert Giles, my old Watcher. You’ve heard lots about him.”

“Indeed I have,” Lorne said with a smirk. “Buffy speaks highly of you… most of the time.”

“That is far better than I had feared,” Giles said absently. He was still reeling from shock. The familiarity between Lorne and Buffy would suggest that they were involved. Perhaps the Council would have been wise to have monitored the Slayer more closely these past years. Unfortunately they had stuck to simply making sure she was still alive. “Buffy, how long…”

Buffy looked up at Giles. “How long what?”

Giles shifted nervously. “I was not aware that you were involved with anyone.”

The Slayer’s eyes widened. “You weren’t? Really? I thought the Council still watched my every move. I mean, I was sure you guys knew what color underwear I wore. You really didn’t know about Lorne?” She asked incredulously. “We’ve been together for more than two years!”

Giles remembered his manners before he let his mouth hang open. “No, we were unaware of that fact. I believe the Council has been somewhat remiss in its… watching.”

“Nah,” Lorne disagreed. “You haven’t been, not at all. Well, only sort of.”

Buffy turned towards Lorne. “Something tells me you had better start talking. I’ve heard that before.”

Lorne smirked again. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you guys have been paying someone to keep track of Buffy in Los Angeles, so that you don’t get mucked up in the Wolfram & Hart thing, and because you know if Buffy spotted a Watcher she’d go ballistic?”

“That is correct,” Giles admitted. “However, our contact never mentioned…”

“A lot of things, because he was told not to,” Lorne said. “I asked him not to.”

“What?” Buffy and Giles said together. “Why?” Buffy asked, obviously upset.

“Because, sweetie, what you do in your off-time is none of their business,” Lorne reminded her. “Besides, do you really think they would’ve left you alone if they knew?”

Buffy winced. She honestly hadn’t thought about it, but he was right. It was way too optimistic of her to have thought that the Council would’ve known about Lorne and NOT done anything, even if it was nothing more than to issue a warning. “I guess. But you should’ve told me!”

“Or perhaps not done it at all. We wouldn’t have interfered,” Giles said coldly.

Lorne cocked an eyebrow. “Sure, uh huh. And I should’ve told you, right in between jobs, hmm?”

Buffy scowled, but it was obvious that she’d already forgiven Lorne. “You’ll be making it up to us, you know.”

The green demon sighed. “I know, I know.”

“And you will not interfere with Council business in the future,” Giles warned.

“Won’t I?” Lorne shot back. “As long as the Council doesn’t try to interfere with Buffy or me, I won’t.”

Giles glared at the demon, but said nothing. He realized that if he was going to be in this city, as Buffy’s Watcher—and Faith’s as well—he would have to learn to tolerate this man.

Buffy looked nervously between the two men. “Um… can we not do the whole male posturing thing? ‘Cause if you two keep this up, Dawn and Willow are going to walk in her and find nothing but a gold lame shirt and a pair of glasses.”

Lorne grinned and reached for the young woman. “Ok, sweetie. Why don’t you help me pick something to open with tonight? Then maybe you can convince Mr. Stuffy British Watcher Guy to sing for me.”

Buffy practically fell on the floor laughing at the idea. “Oh... that would be so great!” She gasped. Giles stared down at her with a frown firmly fixed on his face. “You know, Lorne, he really can sing. I’ve heard him. Stuffy British Watcher folk stuff, but he can sing.” Lorne held the laughing girl and smirked once again at the older man.

“Well… as long as he doesn’t do Barry or Leonard, I suppose I can put up with it,” The demon muttered.

“Barry or Leonard?” Giles echoed.

Buffy recovered enough to explain. “Angel used to sing Barry Manilow, and Wil was fond of Leonard Cohen. We don’t really use their stuff anymore.” She saw the sorrow on Giles’ face, but didn’t correct him. He thought that it was out of grief and mourning. The truth was, Angel’s mangling of Manilow had reached legendary status. Wil’s renditions of Cohen were appreciated for exactly the opposite reason. No one dared to sing their music in the club.

“Anyway, the girls will be back soon, so why don’t you two make yourselves at home?” Lorne suggested. “Buffy, I really do need something to open with, and there’s soda behind the bar.”

Buffy nodded and led Giles over to a barstool while Lorne went back to his preparations. Seeing the Watcher’s moue of disgust, she dug out a tea bag and made him some Earl Gray. “That is—“

“I know. We do keep the weird stuff here,” Buffy commented. “Wesley used to…”

“Ah,” Giles murmured as he sipped his tea. “So, what kinds of classes are Dawn and Willow taking?”