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So far, the running list of Things That Had Changed Since Buffy Got Back included the fact that Willow and Xander were fighting vampires with water balloons, which was possibly one of the stupidest things Buffy had ever heard. But when she tried to make a joke out of it, Willow got this hard, hurt look in her eyes, and Xander said with only half a laugh in his voice that if she’d been around, they could do hand-to-hand combat and all that, but they hadn’t had a Slayer for backup anymore, and the subject was very abruptly dropped after that.
“How’s Giles?” Buffy asked somewhat nervously. “I—when Ms. Calendar, um, talked to me in the diner, she said—”
“He came back,” replied Willow simply. “He and Ms. Calendar got back together. It’s—they’re working things out.”
“Oh,” said Buffy, and felt herself smile a little. “That’s good.”
“Kind of,” said Cordelia, wrinkling her nose. “Ms. Calendar’s still really touchy about Giles fussing over her, and sometimes he fusses over her just a little and you can tell she just wants to—” She mimed punching someone in the face. “And then they talk things out in his office all the time.”
“Which is basically just code for making out,” Xander commented. “That and conflict resolution.”
“Okay, you guys don’t know that,” Willow objected.
“Why not?” Xander inquired. “Snyder’s been really cracking down on everyone for PDA, so maybe they’re just using code names now. Once Cordelia and I were just walking near each other and he gave us a five-minute lecture on setting an example for the other students.”
“So, Snyder’s still an evil little insect?” Buffy inquired playfully.
“When has he ever been anything else?” Xander said, grinning.
The tiny window near Giles’s front door was lit up, and Buffy could hear faint strains of music from the apartment. She felt a sudden clench in her throat, because she couldn’t remember ever coming to Giles’s place and having it seem so warm and inviting; usually it just felt like an extension of Giles’s office. So much had changed over the summer. Everyone seemed able to hold their own without her. “You know—maybe it’s too late,” she said lamely as they reached the front door. “Maybe we should just come back tomorrow.”
“They’re expecting us anyway,” said Willow with a nervous smile. “We always check in after patrol.”
“What if they’re mad?” Buffy inquired, unable to keep the anxiety out of her voice.
“Mad?” Xander repeated.
“Ms. Calendar won’t be mad,” said Willow with conviction. Then, a little worriedly, “I think.”
Buffy exhaled, eyes locked on the door knocker. It took her a moment to find the courage to lift her hand and rap twice on Giles’s front door.
“Shit,” Jenny laughed, running a hand through Giles’s hair.
“Shirt,” Giles corrected her teasingly, fingers skimming Jenny’s bare stomach.
“They never get back this early,” Jenny complained, climbing off of Giles and picking her blouse up off the floor. “We usually have a good two hours more at least.”
“Yes, well, a Watcher’s work is never done,” Giles replied ruefully.
“You know they’re here to see me, right?” Jenny reminded him as she rebuttoned her blouse, her light tone suddenly not quite as genuine.
“Of course. I was talking about both of us,” said Giles quite seriously, frowning slightly; he was unsure why Jenny seemed bothered. “Regardless of whether you’ve been trained by the Council, you’ve most certainly been doing more than the work of a watcher this sum—mph!” Jenny had wound her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hard kiss. He kissed her back for a few moments before reluctantly disentangling himself to remind her, “Darling, the children are waiting.”
Jenny was smiling somewhat dazedly. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, um—you think I’m as qualified as a Watcher?”
“I—it’s more of a title than a position, really, a-and commonly it’s given to the one training the Slayer—” Giles floundered, then suddenly understood. He felt a strange, warm rush of joy looking at her, because for the first time in his entire life, he didn’t feel isolated by his calling. “Yes,” he said simply.
Jenny smiled, delightedly incredulous, and Giles was leaning in to kiss her again when Xander yelled, “ARE YOU HAVING SEX IN THERE OR SHOULD WE BREAK DOWN THE DOOR?”
“Xander!” came Willow’s mortified shriek.
“Duty calls,” said Jenny reluctantly, pulling slowly away from Giles and standing up.
“Your buttons are done wrong,” Giles observed as they walked to the door together.
“Shh,” said Jenny, and elbowed him. “It’s a fashion statement.”
“Is it?” said Giles, honestly bemused. Jenny gave him a pointed look and it clicked. “Right!” he said. “Fashion statement. Of course. You look lovely.”
“Hopeless,” said Jenny affectionately, opening the door.
Giles froze.
In front of him, so did Buffy.
“Check it out,” said Xander, who as always seemed to feel the need to break the quiet. “The Watcher’s back on the clock. And just when you were thinking—” Jenny fixed him with a look. “Got it,” he said awkwardly, and directed his gaze at his feet.
Giles tried to find the right words to say. Buffy looked so much smaller than he remembered, or perhaps that was because of the hesitancy in her eyes. She was waiting for his move—his acceptance, or his anger. He knew what he wanted to say (I love you, I was so worried, I’m so happy you’re here) but he knew that it wasn’t a Watcher’s job to say those words. That was a parent, and Giles couldn’t be that for Buffy.
Or—he felt Jenny’s hand in his, thumb lightly stroking the side of his index finger. He’d been wrong about things before; this summer stood as a testament to that. But perhaps now wasn’t the time to consider the changes and plans he might have to make.
“Welcome home, Buffy,” he said, soft and simple, and from Buffy’s slow smile he knew it was enough.
“I got in a few hours ago,” Buffy was saying, “but I went to see my mom first.”
Giles glanced briefly over at the kitchen where Jenny was making tea. She’d gotten her cast off two days ago, and had been quite visibly excited at the prospect of being able to make tea for the Scoobies now. “Yes, yes, of course,” he agreed. Thinking back on Joyce’s angry accusations directed at him a few days prior, “How did you find her?”
“Well, I pretty much remembered the address,” Buffy quipped lightly.
Giles smiled fleetingly before correcting himself, “I mean, er, how are things between you?” The whistle of the kettle sounded through the apartment, and he added, “Ah. Excuse me, I’ll—”
“Sure,” said Buffy easily, smiling at him. Giles almost didn’t want to look away, half afraid that she’d be gone when he did, but he managed to exit the room and come into the kitchen with little trouble.
Jenny smiled easily up at him from where she was turning off the stove. She’d tied her hair up in a disheveled bun so as to keep it out of her face. “I’m heating up pizza bagels,” she informed him brightly. “I bought some a few days ago for the kids. Xander really loves them.”
“Yes, well—” Giles began, and then stopped. Buffy’s quiet laugh was audible from the living room, followed by her playfully inquiring tone of voice. He couldn’t quite make out the words, and he suspected it had something to do with the fact that there was a sudden tightness in his throat. He exhaled softly.
Jenny turned away from the stove and he felt her hand on his cheek, tilting his face towards hers. He blinked, trying not to look at her, because he knew that if he did he might lose whatever limited hold he had on his emotions. He could hear Buffy in the living room, laughing and safe and alive. He was going to give her tea and know where she was sleeping at night.
“She’s okay,” said Jenny quietly. “It’s okay, Rupert.”
Giles closed his eyes, pressed his lips together, nodded half to himself. “I know,” he said shakily, and kissed Jenny’s half-crooked fingers before pulling her all the way into his arms. “Thank you.”
Jenny rested her chin on his shoulder just as the microwave timer went off. “Pizza bagels,” she said a little reluctantly, stepping away from him slowly. “Can you bring the tea out for the kids?”
“Of course,” Giles agreed, and smiled at her. Jenny gave him a sweet, lopsided little smile back before heading over to the microwave. He studied her for a few seconds before finally remembering to pick up the kettle and pour out some tea for the children, making sure to wait until Jenny had added the pizza bagels to the tea platter before leaving the kitchen. “Though you should know that it’s highly untraditional to have pizza bagels on a tea tray,” he informed her as they entered the front room.
Jenny rolled her eyes and snagged a pizza bagel from the plate.
“Here we are, then,” said Giles to the Scoobies, setting down the platter on the coffee table. “Cheer us up.” He sat down in the easy chair. Jenny looked around, seemed to realize that all the seats were taken, and very carefully settled herself on Giles’s lap.
“Joined at the hip much?” commented Cordelia.
“You know, I heard what you and Xander did on patrol,” said Jenny mildly, taking a delicate bite of her pizza bagel before settling her head against Giles’s shoulder.
Cordelia turned a little pink, cleared her throat, and hastily turned to Buffy. “So!” she said, voice somewhat high. “Were you, like, living in a box, or what?”
“Well, it's a long story,” said Buffy somewhat awkwardly.
“So skip the heartwarming stuff about kindly old people and saving the farm and get right to the dirt,” suggested Xander.
“Perhaps Buffy could use a little time to adjust before we grill her on her summer activities,” Giles commented, doing his best to pour out some tea without jostling Jenny.
“What he said,” Buffy agreed immediately.
“Fair enough,” Xander replied. “In fact, you can leave the slaying to us while you settle in. We got you covered.”
“I mean, if you’re sure,” said Buffy, sounding somewhat doubtful. “That whole water balloon thing you had going looked a little sketchy.”
“Ooh, tonight was a water balloon night?” said Jenny with interest. “It work out?”
“Nah, I think the guns are a little more straightforward,” Oz replied. “We kinda soaked some non-vampire girl leaving the Bronze and then we were all out of ammo.”
“We’d have been fine if someone hadn’t thrown first and asked questions later,” said Cordelia archly, giving Xander a pointed look.
“We still always get our vamps, though!” Willow added, smiling placatingly at Cordelia. “With only a few minor hiccups.”
“Well, thank you for the offer,” Buffy replied with a small smile, “but I think I just wanna get back to my normal routine. You know, school, slaying…kid stuff. In fact, I'm jonesing for a little brainless fun.” To Xander, she inquired, “What are you doing tomorrow?”
Xander blinked, at first not seeming to register Buffy was talking to him. “Oh, I would, but, uh,” he reached over towards Cordelia, smiling winningly, “I'm kind of tied up.”
“You wish,” said Cordelia with a playful tone to her voice, pushing him away.
“Will?” Buffy inquired hopefully.
“Um, tomorrow I—” Willow began nervously.
“Oh, come on,” persisted Buffy. “Friends don't let friends browse alone?”
“Okay,” Willow agreed. “I had some schoolwork, but…I can change my plans.” She cast a furtive look over at Jenny.
“No worries,” said Jenny, taking a bite of her pizza bagel. “We can put off our lessons. I know how important it is to catch up when your friends come home.”
Giles somewhat awkwardly raised his cup to take a sip, one arm still around Jenny. “As for school, Buffy,” he began, “you know you'll have to talk to Principal Snyder before—”
“On it,” said Buffy with certainty. “Mom is making an appointment with His Ugliness. I know she can break him.”
“I hope so,” said Jenny, wrinkling her nose. “Evil little troll man.”
“Jenny,” said Giles with feigned horror. “That’s our employer. He keeps a roof over your head.”
“Don’t you have Council funding?” Jenny pointed out. “I’ll just crash with you when I inevitably get fired.” She smiled warmly at Buffy. “I can always try and put in a good word for you,” she offered more seriously. “Alternatively, I could play the Injured-Teacher card and threaten to sue the school for my broken fingers if they don’t let you in. Snyder’s terrified of lawsuits.”
“Didn’t Angelus break your fingers?” Cordelia commented with a frown. Giles noticed Buffy’s small smile abruptly disappear.
“Don’t tell Snyder that,” said Jenny nonchalantly, and popped the pizza bagel into her mouth.
“I’m a bit concerned about Buffy,” Giles told Jenny after the children had left. “I’m—worried that she won’t be able to immediately adjust.”
“She’s chosen to come back.” Jenny, sitting on the edge of the bed, turned to look at him with a small, meaningful smile. “In my experience, that’s a huge first step.”
Giles ducked his head, smiling slightly. “Well,” he said, sitting down next to Jenny. “I doubt that my motivations for coming back are quite the same as hers.”
“I mean, I’d hope not,” Jenny teased him gently, leaning towards him. She traced his mouth with her fingertip. “We’re doing okay, I think,” she said. “So far.”
“We haven’t done all that much,” Giles objected halfheartedly.
“Rupert, for someone so loving, you can be incredibly cynical at times,” said Jenny with affection. “Hope is really all we can count on sometimes, you know? The question is whether or not you let that be enough for you.”
Giles hesitated, tucking a strand of hair behind Jenny’s ear. “I’m still not sure,” he said.
“Me neither,” Jenny replied, snuggling under the covers. Giles followed suit.
“Do you think I should cook something for the dinner at Buffy’s place?” Jenny asked Willow, picking up a sprig of rosemary from the box of herbs in front of them and holding it to her nose. “Hmm. Smell this?”
Willow took a whiff. “Old,” she said carefully. “Two months. Not fresh enough for a revitalization spell?”
“New,” said Jenny, trying to keep her face straight. “Two weeks. Just the kind a revitalization spell might need.”
“Oh,” said Willow disappointedly. “I think I’m better at the spell-casting than the ingredient-smelling.”
“It’s a process,” Jenny reassured her, putting the rosemary in the basket. “So about dinner—”
“Ms. Calendar, you’re super cool and everything, but, um, you’re not exactly the best cook,” said Willow carefully. “Maybe you should ask Giles? He makes some really good spaghetti.”
“You do have a point,” said Jenny thoughtfully, taking the lavender out of the box. “Smell?” Willow made a face. “Come on, Will, you can’t pick and choose the parts of magic you want to study,” she said patiently, “or you end up going all dark-scary-witch like one of my old coworkers.”
“You worked with a witch who went evil?” said Willow with interest. “What was she like?”
“She blew up my office,” said Jenny seriously. “And got fired soon after. And I don’t want you going down the road of property destruction and unemployment, which is what happens when you make magic into all play and no work.”
“So if I’m enjoying myself all the time, I’m doing it wrong?” said Willow, sounding a little disappointed.
“At this stage?” Jenny replied. “Yes. But as we move along to bigger, cooler things? I’ll keep you posted.” She smiled gently at Willow, then turned to beam at Rupert as he entered the library. “Hey, you. How’d it go with Snyder?”
“Eventually,” said Rupert, “I am going to kill the man.”
“And you always call me out for saying I wish he’d get eaten,” said Jenny with an amused smirk, but the anger in Rupert’s eyes didn’t go away as he sat down. She sighed, crossing the room to gently wrap her arms around his shoulders. “Tell you what,” she said with playful placation. “We can have a date night where we set his office on fire.”
“He has no right to keep Buffy out of school just because of—of his own petty desire to label her as a troublemaker,” said Rupert angrily. “He heavily favors the athletes, he’s rude and abrasive to nearly all the other students, and his salary is higher than actually qualified and talented teachers.” He looked up at her, his anger so stubbornly intense that it was almost endearing. “Why can’t we overthrow him as principal?” he inquired furiously. “Just—storm his office with pitchforks.”
“I think the magic lesson might have to wait,” Jenny informed a giggling Willow in a stage whisper, lightly massaging Rupert’s shoulders.
“I can hear you,” said Rupert irritably, but Jenny could feel his shoulders relaxing. He leaned back into her touch. “She deserves a public education,” he said sulkily.
“You can always threaten him into it,” said Jenny.
“I rather think I might, eventually,” Rupert agreed.
“Ooh, I’d like to watch that,” said Willow with enthusiasm.
Jenny gave Rupert a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll figure it out,” she said, resting her cheek briefly against his until she felt him smile slightly. Pulling away slowly, she turned to Willow. “All right, we’re going to get back to the herbs,” she began, “and—”
The phone rang. Rupert gave them both an apologetic smile and hurried to get it.
“Maybe we should wait until we know what it is,” said Willow, visibly hopeful.
“You know you’re just prolonging this,” Jenny reminded her with an amused smile.
“Shh,” said Willow petulantly.
“I’m sorry?” Rupert was saying from the office. “A dead—no, of course, we’ll be over right away. What? Well—myself and Jenny, of course. Yes—right. We’ll bring a cage.” He hung up and came out of the office, looking harried. “A dead cat just wandered into Buffy’s house,” he said. “Jenny, you were reading up on reanimation, weren’t you?”
“There were a few articles I’d printed out, but I don’t know if this is my forte,” said Jenny carefully.
Rupert smiled slightly. “Be that as it may,” he said, “as my supernatural colleague, I really would appreciate your help.”
Jenny blinked, blushed, and smiled back, stepping forward and tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. “Okay,” she said. “Willow, you hold down the fort?”
“Will do!” said Willow brightly. “I’ve got math class in ten minutes anyway, so maybe I’ll just—”
“Practice your meditation,” Jenny instructed her. Willow nodded. Turning to Rupert, she added, “You still keep that cage in your trunk?”
“I believe so,” Rupert replied.
“Prepared for every emergency,” said Jenny, and smiled at him.
“It looks dead,” Oz commented, observing the cat through the bars of the cage. “It smells dead. Yet it's moving around. That's interesting.”
“Nice pet, Giles,” Cordelia added with visible distaste. “Don't you like anything regular? Golf, USA Today, or anything?”
“I'm trying to find out how and why it rose from the grave,” Giles responded irritably as he came down the stairs from the stacks. “It's not as if I'm going to take it home and offer it a saucer of warm milk.”
“Bummer,” said Jenny. “I was kind of getting attached to the whole concept of you, me, and the dead cat as a family unit.”
“If that’s the case, I think you should call it Patches,” Oz added seriously.
“What about Buffy's welcome home dinner tonight?” Willow inquired a little worriedly. “I told her mom we'd help out. Bring stuff.”
“I'm the dip,” Cordelia put in. All eyes turned to her.
“Uh, you gotta admire the purity of it,” said Xander with an awkward chuckle.
“What? Onion dip,” said Cordelia, as though it should have been obvious. “Stirring, not cooking. It's what I bring.”
“We should figure out what kinda deal this is,” Oz added. “I mean, is it a gathering, a shindig or a hootenanny?”
“Is there a difference?” Jenny inquired.
“Well,” Oz began, “a gathering is brie, mellow song stylings. Shindig—dip,” he nodded to Cordelia, “less mellow song stylings, perhaps a large amount of malt beverage, and hootenanny, well, it's chock full of hoot, just a little bit of nanny.”
Jenny exchanged a bemused look with Giles, who was suddenly very grateful to have another adult in the room.
“Well, I hate brie,” Xander put in.
“I know,” Cordelia agreed vehemently. “It smells like Giles's cat.”
“It's not my—” Giles began irritably.
“And what'll we talk about at a gathering anyway?” Xander continued. “So, Buffy, did you meet any nice pimps on your travels? And oh, by the by, thanks for ruining our lives for the past three months.”
“Xander,” said Jenny reprovingly.
“You know what I mean,” Xander brushed her off. “She doesn't want to talk about it, we don't want to talk about it, so why don't we just shut up and dance?”
“Well, Buffy said she did want to loosen up, you know, have some kid time,” said Willow thoughtfully. Turning to Oz, “Aren't you guys rehearsing tonight? Why don't you play at the party?”
“Yeah, I think I could supply some Dingo action,” Oz agreed gamely.
“Uh, I'm not sure that, a, um,” Giles hesitated, “shindig—”
“Hootenanny,” Oz corrected him.
“Hootenanny,” Giles repeated tentatively, “is really the order of the day. Maybe something a little more intimate. I mean, Buffy has just got home—I'm sure she's still feeling a little disoriented.”
“Yeah, I’m with Rupert on this one,” Jenny agreed. “Buffy seems like she could use some Scooby time before we throw her straight into a party.”
“I mean, it’s not really throwing,” Willow persisted. “More like—gently tossing, you know? Parties are fun, and Buffy likes fun, and Buffy likes parties! Plus a big party says ‘welcome home, Buffy’ way better than just all of us showing up for dinner.”
“Well—" began Jenny doubtfully.
Xander cut in, slapping Giles on the back. “Okay, so one vote from the old people for a smelly cheese night, and how many votes for actual fun, huh?” Willow, Oz, and Cordelia all raised their hands, grinning widely.
“All right, all right,” Giles conceded. “Have it your way.” He glanced up at Jenny, who had a worried, tense expression on her face. “Excuse me,” he added, standing and hurrying over to her. “My office?” he inquired.
Jenny nodded quickly, following him behind the counter and shutting the door behind them before finally saying, “I really don’t think a party is what Buffy needs right now.”
“I—” Giles hesitated. “I feel it isn’t exactly our place to—”
“Look, I know that as adults, there’s a generational gap and all that,” said Jenny quietly, “but I think Buffy spent her entire summer getting lost in the mix, and I think she came home because she wants to make sure she still has a place in the world. Of course I’m not gonna stop the kids from throwing her a party, but—I just think it would mean a lot to Buffy if you talked to her one-on-one at some point.”
Giles blinked, then smiled a bit nervously. “I’m—not quite sure what I’d say, to be truthful,” he confessed.
“I don’t know if you need to say all that much.” Jenny gave him an encouraging smile back. “Just tell her you missed her, and you’re glad she’s back, and you’re here if she needs any kind of support. That alone can do a lot for a person.”
“I suppose I can try,” Giles agreed. “We still do need to look into this dead cat occurrence, though; we might be a bit late to the, ah, hootenanny anyway.”
Jenny giggled. “Hootenanny,” she repeated in an unexpectedly accurate British accent, which made Giles laugh in surprise.
Rupert had made some brownies for the party and wouldn’t let Jenny eat any of them, which she found thoroughly unfair, especially since they still had to research the whole zombie-cat thing and it would be nice to have something sweet while she read. “You’ll get crumbs on the books,” he explained, “and we don’t even know how many people the children have invited to the party, so we need to make sure we don’t eat any until we’ve brought it to Buffy’s. It’s bad form.”
“You and your form,” said Jenny with an eye roll. “It’s past sunset and I’m hungry.”
She made another grab for the brownies. Rupert caught her hand midway, interlacing their fingers. “Come now, we’ve only an hour more before we give up and head to the party,” he coaxed.
“You said that an hour ago,” Jenny informed him.
“We lost research time when you started kissing me in the stacks,” Rupert pointed out, “so I feel it reasonable to add another hour on.”
“I admire your work ethic, but I also want a brownie,” said Jenny, sitting back in her chair and opening a book. “Ooh! Nigerian death mask! Anything there?”
“Nigerian?” repeated Rupert with a strange frown.
“Yeah. Here.” Jenny passed him the book. “Something about it holding the power of a zombie demon, but unless you’ve seen a mask lying around—”
“Dear god,” said Rupert shakily. Jenny looked up, startled at his sudden worry, and he elaborated, “I saw a mask just like this one in Joyce’s bedroom.”
“Should I be concerned about you being in Joyce’s bedroom or the death mask?” Jenny quipped. At Rupert’s look, “Right. Yep. Death mask.” Then it clicked. “Fuck, death mask at the huge party, we need to get there right now.”
“Glad to see we’re on the same page,” said Rupert. “I’ll call Buffy—”
“There’s no time,” said Jenny firmly. “If it’s already active, we need to get there as quickly as possible and destroy it before it starts attracting even more zombies.”
Rupert looked at her, then nodded. “You’re right,” he agreed. “We’d best get going.”
“And fast,” said Jenny, and took his hand, pulling them both up and out of the library.
They ran to the parking lot. Rupert’s car happened to be closest, or they would have used Jenny’s, which (as Jenny pointed out once Rupert had pulled out of the lot) would probably have been the faster car anyway. Rupert said something about now really not being the time and floored the gas.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered once they were a good distance away from the high school.
“What?” Jenny inquired.
“Do you like my mask?” Rupert mocked with an inane, wide-eyed smile. “Isn’t it pretty? It raises the dead.” He huffed. “Americans.”
“Oh, now that’s just stereotyping,” said Jenny indignantly, not at all noticing the person lumbering in front of the car. By the time she did, though, he was already bouncing off the windshield. She shrieked.
Rupert had slammed on the brakes, and the car had stopped, but the man was still lying facedown in the middle of the road. Rupert jumped out first, running to the man, and Jenny was halfway out of the car herself when the man raised its decaying face and grabbed her boyfriend by the throat.
Giles had a moment of sheer panic mingled with oxygen deprivation before the zombie fell back. Jenny had kicked it hard in the back of its knee, loosening its grip. “You keep your undead hands off my guy,” she told it, grabbing Giles’s hand and pulling him back to the car. Then, just after she’d shut her car door, “Shit, Rupert, the keys—”
Giles looked up. The keys, which must have fallen out of his pocket when the zombie picked him up, were now lying in the middle of the street. The street now full of zombies staggering towards the car.
“Sometimes I feel like my life is some kind of B-list horror movie,” said Jenny, but her voice was shaking.
Giles squeezed her hand, let go, and said, “Hit anything that comes near you,” before starting in on hotwiring the car. It was a bit touch and go initially, especially since he hadn’t done it in…ten years, at least, but he finally saw the spark and heard the engine start. “Like riding a bloody bicycle!” he informed Jenny, just as one of the zombies punched a hole in the window.
“Drive!” screamed Jenny, and Giles was more than happy to oblige.
The closer they got to the Summers house, the more zombies they seemed to come across. Giles was fairly certain he ran over more than a few of them, but this time he didn’t stop the car. He could tell now that none of the people in the middle of the car’s path were human; the few humans that they did see were running from zombies.
“So,” said Jenny weakly. “You hotwired a car.”
“Mm,” said Giles, making a fairly risky turn. They were four blocks away from the Summers house.
“Pretty sexy.”
“What?” Giles took his eyes off the road and ran down another zombie. “Dear lord.”
“Was that at me or the zombie?”
“Both, I believe,” Giles replied, pulling the car to a stop in front of the Summers house. The windows and door were all smashed and broken in. “How can you be flirting at a time like this?”
“I find it strangely calming,” Jenny answered simply, getting out of the car. Giles followed.
The house was still and quiet, free of any and all zombies. Giles was beginning to wish he’d thought to grab a weapon before leaving the library, but he hadn’t expected the mask to begin working so quickly. Hellmouth activity, most likely. “Jenny,” he said, voice low. “If you—”
Abruptly, there was a ski pole at his throat, and a familiar face at the other hand.
“Cordelia, it’s us, it’s us!” Giles hissed.
“How do we know it’s you guys and not zombie teachers?” Cordelia demanded.
“Cordelia, do stop being tiresome,” said Giles irritably, who had had quite enough of people being inadequately informed about zombies.
“Generally, zombies aren’t able to vocalize,” Jenny put in, and Giles looked over at her in gratified surprise. “Not if they’re reanimated, anyway.”
“I love you,” said Giles.
“I know,” said Jenny.
“It’s them,” said Cordelia with visible disgust, lowering the ski pole.
“I think the dead man’s party has moved upstairs,” Oz added, glancing upwards.
Giles heard crashing and growling from above them. “That makes sense,” he agreed as they all began to move towards the stairway.
“You did say the mask was in Joyce’s bedroom,” Jenny added.
“Mask?” Cordelia repeated.
“The mask holds the power of a zombie demon,” Giles explained. “Ovu Mobani.”
“Evil Eye,” Jenny translated, stepping past Giles to begin edging up the stairs.
“I don't think we can get past them,” Giles informed Cordelia and Oz.
“Well, what happens if they get the mask?” Oz inquired.
“If one of them puts it on,” Giles informed them, “they become the demon incarnate.”
“Worse than a zombie,” said Cordelia worriedly.
“Way worse,” Jenny agreed. “You guys okay?”
“Well, aside from all the yelling and violence, we’re good,” Oz replied. “You?”
“Rupert ran over like five zombies on the way here,” said Jenny proudly.
Cordelia was opening her mouth to say something when they all heard a loud crash of glass breaking. “Out back!” Giles shouted, and then a zombie grabbed the front of his shirt.
Jenny shrieked, grabbed one of the ski poles from Oz, and started hitting the zombie furiously. Oz took a ski pole from Cordelia and seemed to be doing his best to help, but not all that much was getting done.
“Go!” Jenny shouted to Oz. “Tell Buffy Mobani’s power lies in his eyes!” She glanced down at Giles. “Eyes, right?”
“Quite right, dear,” said Giles through gritted teeth, struggling to block the zombie from going up the stairs. “Oz, she has to go for the eyes to defeat him!” He didn’t quite see whether or not Oz heard him, because he was busy kicking at the zombie—really not the most effective way of fighting, but he was somewhat stuck.
Jenny landed one last hit on the zombie before it quite abruptly disappeared. The momentum of her strike carried her forward, and she most likely would have tumbled down the stairs if not for Giles very neatly catching her in his arms.
“Yikes,” she said breathlessly. “So, I’m guessing Buffy took out Mobani?”
“I mean, if you guys wanted to come over to my place for dinner,” Jenny was offering gracefully to Joyce in one corner. Willow and Oz were trading zombie stories, Xander and Cordelia were kissing, and Buffy was sitting on the sofa looking more than a bit wrung-out.
Giles hesitated. Over Joyce’s shoulder, Jenny caught his eye and gave him a gentle, pointed look. He walked over to the sofa and sat down next to Buffy.
“So you missed most of the party,” said Buffy with half a smile. “It was pretty crazy until the zombies showed up. We had a band and everything.”
“Jenny and I were of the mind that you might have preferred something more intimate,” said Giles tentatively, “but—I’d like to think you did have fun before the, ah, zombies?”
Buffy shrugged noncommittally, which was something of an answer in itself. “It’s good to be home,” she said carefully.
“If—if you’d like,” said Giles a bit nervously, “you could come over and have dinner with Jenny and myself. We always have Friday dinners together, and Willow helps cook on occasion. It’s become something of a tradition over the summer.”
“I guess a lot of things changed while I was gone,” said Buffy, still not quite looking at Giles.
“Not too many,” said Giles, and kept his eyes trained on Jenny and Joyce. “There are still people here who love you.”
Buffy was silent for a few seconds. Then, hesitantly, “I’m sorry I left, Giles. It just—”
Giles turned, looking at the nervousness in her eyes; this small, brave girl who he loved more than any wise Watcher should. “You chose to come back,” he said, and smiled slightly. “I’ve been told that that’s a huge first step.”