He's in the alley outside of the Bronze, smoking a cigarette, and
first she thinks he's some creepy trashy guy who's been thrown out
and is gonna make obscene comments when she walks past but is too
drunk to do much else, until she hears him swearing at the bouncers
and realizes that it's Giles. He's in some ratty undershirt and
jeans, really tight jeans, actually, and is surrounded by a cloud of
cigarette smoke.

"Giles?" she asks incredulously, staring at him.

He looks up and laughs. "Oh, that's bloody fabulous," he slurs.
"What do you want, Cordelia?"

"Oh my God, something really *is* wrong with you. I mean, we thought
you might be sick when you didn't show up for study hall, but -- "

"Cordelia, do you mind?" he says irritably, standing and walking a
little ways with her. "I've got a headache."

"That is the least of your problems, Giles," she says distastefully.
"Even the tweed is better than this. I mean, I've heard of shabby
chic, but I think that's just -- "

And then he slams her against the brick wall of the Bronze, not hard
enough that she's really in pain, but hard enough to really throw her
off.

"Cordelia," he murmurs, and his voice is a lot rougher than usual,
which could have something to do with the fact that he reeks of booze
and cigarette smoke, "I'm going to do two things that I've wanted to
do to you for a long time. First of all, shut the *fuck* up, and
second of all..."

And then he kisses her.

*

"Mom?"

Joyce turns around, smiles widely and mouths "thank you!" at Buffy,
then hurries away from the guy she's talking to.

"Oh, god, *thank* you, Buffy. That guy could *not* take a hint!
Honey, you would not *believe* how bad my night has been. I was here
with Ripper, and -- "

"*What*? You were here with Gi -- I mean, is something wrong? Were
you guys looking for me, 'cuz, you know, they can page people here,
all you had to do was call, and I would've -- wait, did you just say
*Ripper*?"

"Nothing's wrong!" her mother giggles. "We just wanted to have a
little fun...but then we, we kinda had a fight..." her mother's face
clouds up. "And he stormed out, and he probably left with some skank
just to make me -- "

"Wait, *what*? Mom, did you just say 'skank'? You told me never to
call people names like -- that's not the point! What is wrong with
everyone tonight?"

Joyce just giggles again. "Oh, honey, you can say whatever the hell
you want. SKANK!" she shouts at a passing teenager to make her
point. The other girl rolls her eyes and glares at Buffy. "And
nothing's *wrong* with us," Joyce continues, "we just...I don't know,
I guess everyone just feels like having a little fun tonight!"

Buffy stares at her mother. "Okay, mom, we're going home."

"But I just got here! I haven't had anyone fun to hang out with
since Ripper left, and -- "

"Would you stop calling him that, Mom? It's...creepy. Willow,"
Buffy says as Willow and Oz catch up to them, "something is
definitely not right here. We need to find Giles. Mom says she came
in here with him and he left, so apparently he's okay, because..."

"Can't really see Giles in here by choice," Oz finishes for her.

"Thank you," Buffy says as her mother sighs and rolls her eyes.

"You guys are *boring*," Joyce announces. "Come *on*, let's go have
some fun!"

"Mom, we're leaving," she says in what she knows is her mom's voice.
Somebody's gotta be the adult here, right?

Joyce doesn't move.

"It'll be cool, Mrs. Summers," Oz says.

"We-we could probably use a hand with the researching, right?" Willow
says, looking pointedly at Buffy. "That can be pretty cool. And,
you know, we could always use more people to help us keep things
safe. That's exciting...in a death-wish way."

"Really?" Joyce asks, looking at Buffy hopefully.

"Fine," Buffy says. "You can give us a hand, Mom. But that means we
have to find Giles and get to the library, *now*."

"Cool," her mother says, shrugging. As they slowly try to head for
an exit, she hears her mother say to Oz "And...you can call me Joyce,
Oz."

Oh, god.

*

This isn't like Xander-kisses, or any other guy-kisses she's familiar
with, for that matter. Taste of booze and cigarettes
notwithstanding, Giles is a man who knows how to kiss. Even though,
ew, not only is he old enough to be her father, he's *Giles*.

But goddammit, as soon as she's getting into it, he pulls away, but
his hands go from being next to her shoulders to being wrapped around
her, pulling her right up to him, and how is it possible that he's
so...*hot*? No, really, he has a really nice face and all, and his
body doesn't seem too bad now that she can actually see some of the
lines of it, but...he's *hot*, literally. The heat coming from his
body transfixes her.

"Cordelia," Giles whispers, making her name sound like something
really, really, *really* dirty, "have you ever really fucked a man?"

And he's moving now, and god he's thrusting, slowly, supporting her
so she doesn't have to lean on the wall of the Bronze, which is
probably covered in god-knows-what. He's *thrusting*, and this is
*Giles*, it's sick and wrong and against the laws of god and man, but
he knows what he's doing and this is a new Giles, she thinks. Maybe
this is something Hellmouthy, but it doesn't seem like a demon Giles,
it seems like it's just a different version of Giles.

"I -- " is all she says. "I...ah..I mean, I've -- Xan...er...ah..."
But it's kinda *really* hard to concentrate when he's kissing her at
that wierd little soft spot that's not quite her ear, it's just below
her jaw and not really her throat and his lips are so hot and dammit,
he's *still thrusting*.

Her ears are ringing. This is, like, like something out of those
trashy romance novels her mom has, but...evil and twisted. It's,
like, the anti-romance-novel. But her ears are ringing. And there's
definitely a little panting, which of course leads to involuntary
bosom-heavage, and *wow*, there's that "throbbing manhood" she's
heard so much about and no wonder Jenny seemed to like him so much.

"Not Xander," he says, laughing cruelly. "Not that poor little
nancy-boy Xander, not some glorified make-out session in the backseat
with a football player, not some little high school boy's hand up
that fucking beautiful little cheerleading skirt, I mean have you
ever actually fucked a *man*?"

"Am I about to?" And she's so incredibly proud of herself that she's
not only formed a coherent sentence, but she's actually said -- or
moaned or panted or whatever, she's verbally expressed something
resembling a trademark Snappy Cordelia Comeback.

He laughs again, and whispers, his lips hot and soft against hers,
"We'll see, won't we?" before he kisses her again, this time slow and
sweet and very soft. He pulls away, and it might be soft but it's
*not* gentle, and she finds herself pushing her mouth against his for
more, for something a little more satisfying.

But Giles ignores her attempts, instead wrapping an arm around her
waist. "You don't really wanna spend your evening in the Bronze, do
you?" he asks, guiding her away from the club.

"Well, I mean, Buffy -- " Buffy should really hear about the fact
that her Watcher's midlife seems to have hit and hit hard, but it
doesn't seem that he's gonna give her much of a choice on this
matter. She might be able to make a break for it if she was really
lucky and didn't trip on any of the busted-up concrete on the way up
to the club, but the memories of hard-ass Giles discourage that path,
because hard-ass Giles is intimidating enough, and drunken,
apparently slightly insane hard-ass Giles...yeah.

"Buffy and Willow were kind of expecting me, but...hey, they can
wait, right?" she says weakly.

"Mmm," he says, nuzzling her throat before lighting up another
cigarette. "Don't suppose you smoke," he says snidely.

"No, I personally *like* clean teeth, good breath and lungs that will
last me a good eighty or ninety years. But don't let me stop you."

"I won't," he says, not visibly offended by her comment.

And they keep walking, away from the Bronze, his arm still tightly
around her waist, fingers idly tracing circles on her hip and sliding
up and down in an area of only a few inches that feels like it's
buzzing beneath the fabric of her shirt.

Okay, maybe this *is* something Hellmouthy.

It's about ten minutes later that she finally says something. "Uh,
hey, Giles?"

He just laughs. "Giles?" he repeats. "What is this, the soddin'
X-Files? It's not Giles anymore, Cordelia."

And she's really genuinely scared for a few seconds, because crazy
Giles is still better than scary demon in Giles's body. But then he
tosses away the cigarette and breathes in her ear "Ripper's back,
sweet thing."

Not demon.

But oh shit.

"Ah," is all she says. "That's...uh -- that's good."

And Giles, or Ripper, or whoever he is now, laughs some more. "Has
anyone ever told you you're incredibly beautiful when you're
terrified?" he asks her, lighting another cigarette and replacing his
arm around her waist.

"No," she says, tossing her hair, "but it would explain why the
demons always come after me, wouldn't it?"

He just smiles.

*

When they get outside, Buffy hands her keys to her mother. Joyce
looks at her blankly.

"Don't you want to drive?" Buffy asks her mom.

Joyce shrugs. "Nah, you can go ahead. I'm sick of driving
everywhere."

"Uh, Mrs. Summers," Willow says nervously --

"No time," Buffy interrupts. "Come on, we gotta go. Mom, you said
Giles left, did he say where he was going? To the school, or to his
place, or..."

Joyce shrugs as Buffy speeds off, and giggles as they take a hard
right. "Wow, Buffy, you suck at this," she laughs.

"Thanks for the rousing endorsement. Think, Mom! Did he tell you
where he was going?"

"I *told* you, no."

Buffy gives a little frustrated growl. "Mom, you need to tell me,
did he seem...different from normal? I mean, was he -- "

"He was acting like everyone else," Joyce tells her. "Until he
suddenly turned into Super Jerk and left me. If we find him, do I
have to talk to him? He's not gonna be giving us all orders like you
say he normally does, is he?"

Willow and Buffy look at each other worriedly. "Like everyone else,"
Buffy repeats. "So whatever this is," she says nervously, "it may've
happened to Giles. If he's regressing..."

She trails off. Willow gulps.

"Well, okay," Oz says, slightly confused, "but, y'know, even if he's
sixteen, Giles is probably still a pretty together guy, right? I
mean, he might not have all the answers, but..."

"Well, uh, see..." Willow starts, stuttering nervously.

"Giles at sixteen," Buffy says for her, "...less Together Guy, more
Bad Magic Hates the World Ticking Time Bomb Guy."

"Oh," Oz says. After a moment, he says "Well, maybe it's for the
best that he left you in there, Joyce."

"Oh yeah?" Joyce asks, grinning at Oz.

"I didn't just see that," Buffy says. "Eyes on the road, eyes on the
road, always on the road."

It's quiet for a few minutes, until Joyce begins rummaging through
the glove compartment. "Mom," Buffy asks, trying to be calm, "what
are you looking for?"

"Nothin'," her mom says. "Hey, you kids got any of that candy left
to sell?"

"At a time like this you're thinking about -- oh my god!" Buffy
slams on the brakes and turns around to stare at Willow. "Will,
that's it!"

"What's it?" Willow asks, staring at Buffy in wide-eyed confusion,
although it could just be wide-eyed fear, since the car behind them
swerves and speeds past them, tires squealing and middle fingers
visible through every window.

"The candy! It's the candy, Willow! Mom, do you have any of the
wrappers or anything?"

Joyce shrugs. "Nah, just threw 'em out when I was done. What're
you talking about, the candy?"

"There must be some kind of curse on the candy, or demon eggs in the
batch, or something." Buffy muses. "Look, we gotta get to the
library. When we do, Willow, I want you to find out where the school
got this candy from. Oz, you and -- Oz," she amends, "you look up
curses. Mom, you -- uh -- you can look up, um...all right, I guess
I need you to look up curses, too. But...would you stop the creepy
Oz-flirting?"

*

"So," Cordelia finally says, "you really liked the cheerleading
outfit?"

He looks at her, surprised. "Thought you were never gonna say
anything."

"Yeah, well, I got bored waiting for you to do it. I thought you
were gonna be Conversation Guy earlier, but apparently not.
Seriously. You liked the outfit?"

"That is not an outfit," he declares. "That's soddin' fetish wear.
It's disgraceful that a bunch of teenagers are allowed to wear
that...which is to say," he says with a well-placed leer, tossing his
cigarette aside and wrapping his arms around her tightly as his voice
drops to barely a hot breath on her ear, "that all I could think
about whenever I saw you in that bloody getup was throwing you down
on the floor, ripping the built-in underwear out of that skirt with
my teeth, and proceeding to fuck you so hard that you'd be unable to
walk for a week."

And once again, she's rendered speechless, if for somewhat shorter a
time. "Uh-huh," she says, trying to imitate that breathy voice.
"Well. You know, I wish I could say the same, but since tweed's
never really done it for me..."

At that moment, some passing seedy punk type makes a grab at
Cordelia's ass. Giles turns around, punches the guy, slams the heel
of his open hand into the punk's temple, and, after the guy goes
down, swipes his leather duster.

"What about leather?" he asks as they continue, draping the coat
around Cordelia's shoulders. "That better suited to Her Highness's
tastes?"

"Well," she says, glancing back at the guy, "it's a start."

*

"Buffy," Joyce says irritably, "I'm sick of looking through books.
This is stupid, and I'm getting...old-book-grungy-stuff on my hands,
and..."

"Mom, if you don't want to help, just go home!" Buffy shouts finally,
her voice echoing through the library. Her friends stare for a few
moments, then look away, giving her privacy.

"I still wanna help," Joyce pouts, crossing her arms sulkily. "I
just...isn't there something less gross I can do?"

"She -- she could help me!" Willow volunteers. "I -- I could use a
hand on the computer; it's like they don't want to leave a trail,
whoever these guys are."

"Yes!" Xander pipes up, jumping up from his seat, which was extremely
close to Willow's, and slamming his book closed. "Yes! Joyce, you
can take this seat, and I'll just go help Oz. Who is my friend. And
who I, you know -- "

"Wouldn't hurt?" Willow asks nervously.

"Wouldn't hurt," Xander confirms, scurrying off to the stacks. Joyce
and Buffy watch him for a moment, before Buffy shakes her head.

"Just...just help Willow, Mom," Buffy says. "And where is Cordelia?
I thought somebody called her?"

*

Cordelia came to a decision a few seconds ago. She's a moron.

How could she never have realized just how hot Giles would be if he
would wear something...different?

A cop saw Ripper kicking the punk's ass and swiping the coat, but he
was a cop easily rendered unconscious. Thankfully, scary-Giles
doesn't have quite enough issues to kill a cop.

But there is what could in polite circles be termed extremely heavy
petting on the hood of a police car.

It's his voice, she thinks. He has the most amazing voice even
normally, but right now when it's low and sandpapery and hard, the
things he says make her feel like there's something wrong with her
eyelids, like she can't keep her eyes open because there's this funny
tension there.

It's never been like that with Xander, or anyone else for that
matter. No eyelid-tension, and okay, so there's occasionally
shortness of breath, but it's never actually felt like there was a
lead weight on her diaphragm, something aching and pulling and making
her struggle long and hard to breathe in.

But there is now. There is now, with Giles or Ripper or whoever he's
going by whispering things to her about how many places and how many
times and how many different ways they're going to be doing this.

She's not trashy. She's not trash, all cracks about her clothes to
the contrary, she's a high-class, high-maintenance gal and damn proud
of it. And this doesn't change that at all, because if it was anyone
else trying to do this to her she would be kicking some serious ass.
It's the voice. It's the voice telling her, promising her that at
least once in her life she's going to be fucking a man.

*

"Huh," Willow says, frowning.

"What's wrong?" Joyce looks at the screen, then turns to Willow for
an explanation. "I don't see the problem."

"It's wierd, this is the site for the Sunnydale packaging plant for
the company, but...I can't find an address, or a phone number, or..."

Willow trails off, feeling a leg brushing against hers. She and
Joyce recoil, stare at each other for a few moments, then turn back
to the screen. "I mean, uh, uh, maybe you should go back to helping
Oz and Xander, or, uh, maybe someone should look for Cordelia."

"Yeah," Joyce agrees, equally wierded. "Yeah, you know, I should...I
should, um, you know, I think I need some water."

"Yes!" Willow exclaims. "Yes! Water fountain is, um, out the door
and down the hall a little way, and, um..."

And then they kiss.

Just once, for a few seconds, and then pull away and Joyce jumps up,
giggling uncomfortably, and Willow does the same thing, turning back
to her computer as Joyce runs back into the stacks to help with the
research.

Willow decides then that research is just the thing to take her mind
off of this, and thus throws herself into the task at hand until,
maybe six minutes later, she shouts "I found it! Buffy, I found the
local packaging plant!" No time to print it, instead, she scribbles
down the address and hands the paper to Buffy.

"Xander, Oz, you two stay here," she says. "Willow, Mom, you're with
me. Let's go."

*

They're on the way to the plant when Buffy slams on the brakes for
the second time this evening. For the second time this evening,
Willow suddenly remembers every prayer she was ever taught.

"I found Giles," is all Buffy says, staring disgustedly out the
windshield. Willow follows Buffy's gaze, which lands on her Watcher,
who's wrapped around some brunette.

"See?" Joyce says pointedly. "I told you. Ripper left with the
first little skank he could find."

"Oh my god..." Buffy says.

"That skank actually looks kinda like Cordelia," Willow muses.

"I think that's because that skank *is* Cordelia," Buffy says
distractedly. "Wait, I mean...that's Cordelia!" The entire group
stares at the pair, who have yet to notice the large SUV on the
street ten feet away from them. "Guys, we've gotta get him away
from her, if he really is..."

"Doesn't really look like she's in a lotta trouble," Joyce says with
a mean smirk.

"Mom!" Buffy exclaims. "That's *Cordelia*!"

"So?" her mother asks petulantly. "She's still a skank."

Buffy, thankfully, misses the smirks Willow and Joyce exchange, as
she's in the process of leaping out of the car. "Giles," she shouts,
racing over to him and prying him away from Cordelia, "Giles, okay,
uh, -- "

"Buffy!" Cordelia exclaims. "Yeah! Hey! Look at that, I was gonna
go look for Buffy in the Bronze when I ran into you, and here she is,
so I'm gonna go talk to her for just a second, and, uh...yeah, just
hang on for a second," she says nervously, and Giles reluctantly
releases her. Cordelia drags Buffy over to the car. "Okay, Buffy,
you'd better be able to explain why your Watcher suddenly became
really hot."

Buffy stares at Cordelia. 'I will not hit Cordelia,' she tells
herself. 'Hitting Cordelia, as nice as it might feel, does no good.'
"Cordelia, we don't know what's going on," she says. "To put it in
words you can understand, all the adults in town are acting really
wierd. My mom's in the car, she's been *really* scary, and...we
figured out it's the candy, but that's all we know. Willow, Mom and
I are on our way to the factory now, and Oz and Xander are -- "

"Christ, how long does it take to check up with each other?" Giles
snaps, stalking over to them and wrapping his arm back around
Cordelia's waist. Buffy stares at him briefly, then shakes her head.

"Giles, something is seriously wrong in Sunnydale, okay? We need
your help on this."

"Sod off," Giles mutters, kissing Cordelia's temple.

"Hey," Cordelia says nervously, "uh, maybe we should help them out,
y'know? I mean..."

"Hell no. I'm having a good time for the first time in years, and
no way am I gonna let you little -- "

"Hold that thought," Buffy snaps. She heads for the car. "Mom,
gimme the directions to this factory." Her mother hands her the slip
of paper through the window, watching her curiously.

"Honey, should we -- "

"No," Buffy snaps. "You and Willow get back to the library and keep
looking up curses. Cordelia, you can go with them if you want."

"Like hell she is," Giles growls, pulling Cordelia more tightly to
him.

"You wanna fight me, Giles?" Buffy asks, in what feels like the first
quiet voice she's used all evening. "You really wanna fight me?"

Giles glares at her for several moments, an intense glare, and then,
with a superior smirk at Buffy, turns to Cordelia, and cups her chin
in what almost looks like a tender manner. "'S your choice, love,"
he says quietly, stroking her hair.

Cordelia looks as startled as Buffy feels, and looks quickly at
Buffy, who shrugs.

"I'm coming with you guys," she says firmly, and it sounds like she's
talking to Buffy, but she's looking right at Giles.

"Good girl," he answers softly. "Be nice to have you along."

"And to that I can say only nyarghhh," Buffy shudders, gesturing the
okay to leave to her mother.

"Please," Cordelia says certainly as they begin walking. "Like you
two would last a second without *my* calming influence."

"Calming influence?" Giles repeats, laughing. "I don't know about
Buffy, sweet thing, but your influence -- "

"That's it," Buffy says, stopping. She shoves the two of them apart.
"You," she says to Giles, "are gonna walk on my right side. You,"
she tells Cordelia, "are gonna walk on my left side. Are we clear?"

Cordelia seems to come out of a stupor and shakes her head. "Oh.
Yeah. Clear."

Giles says nothing, but lights up a cigarette and glares at Buffy
some more.

"Where'd you get the coat, by the way?" Buffy asks, glancing at
Cordelia. "It looks, um...evil."

"Oh, uh, yeah, well...hey, so where's this factory?"

*

"You wanna come ride shotgun?" Joyce asks, scootching over to the
driver's seat.

Willow reaches down to unbuckle her seat belt, then stops and shakes
her head fervently. "No," she says, "no, I'm okay."

"Oh," Joyce says. "Okay."

They drive back to the school in silence, and as they're hopping out
of the car, Joyce from the driver's seat and Willow from the driver's
side back door, they stare at each other for a few seconds. Both
slam their doors shut at the same time, both jump, and, within
seconds, they're kissing again, this time not so quick and nervous,
to put it lightly.

*

Ripper and Buffy both tell her to wait for them at the front of the
factory, so she does, albeit irritably. But, y'know, this really...
um, this *was* a nice oufit, and most of it's still salvageable, but
chocolate stains would probably just be the end of it. So she's
pacing around to try to keep from thinking about things, and then
she hears shouts, and someone comes running towards her. Without
thinking, she kicks, and hears her foot connect with a kneecap.

The guy crumples, and she knows she's seen him somewhere before, and
*of course* in other things Hellmouthy, and is trying to place him
when Buffy and Giles catch up.

"Thanks, Cordy," Buffy says shortly, her attention still on the guy
on the floor as she hauls him to his feet and throws him against a
wall.

"Very nice," Ripper purrs, kissing that funny ear-jaw-throat place
again and this time sucking slightly.

"Stop it," Buffy shouts, punching the guy once more just to make sure
he won't put up any more of a fight, then dropping him. "Hello,
Ethan," she says coolly.

Ethan. Okay, yeah, she knows that name. Ethan, Ethan, Ethan...

"Oh, is *that* hello?" he asks, and his voice is British too, and
*that's* it. He was the guy she first heard the name Ripper from.
She kicked him then, too. "I'd rather gotten the impression that you
greeted people by beating the hell out of them."

"Well, that'd make life with some people a lot easier," Buffy says
cheerfully, placing a foot on Ethan's throat to make sure he doesn't
try anything. "So how about you tell us what you're doing in
Sunnydale? I mean, this is pretty much a talk-or-bleed situation, so
I would think the choice was obvious, but hey, wouldn't surprise me
if you like that kinda thing, so..."

"Kick him," Ripper offers, arm back around Cordelia's waist.

Buffy turns around to say something, but notices the arm-waist
contact, seems about to say something else, and finally just shakes
her head and turns back to Ethan.

"I'd just like to point out," Ethan says, voice a little strained,
possibly because of the boot on his throat, "that this wasn't my
idea."

"Meaning?" Buffy prompts, pressing down just a little with her heel.

"Meaning," Ethan chokes out, "that it's not me you want. I'm
subcontracting. For Trick. You want him. I'm just helping him
collect a tribute...for a demon."

"He's lying," Ripper snaps. "Kick him."

"I don't think he is, shut up, and get your hands off of Cordelia,"
Buffy calls without looking back.

Ripper lets go of Cordelia for a second to storm forward. "You're
*my* Slayer," he snarls, "kick him till his ribs -- "

"Giles!" Buffy shouts, turning to look at her Watcher. He stalks
back to Cordelia and kisses her, hard, his hands sliding under her
shirt and up her back. She's a lot less aware of what's being said
between Buffy and Ethan for the moment, and catches his lower lip in
her teeth, biting down gently. Ripper growls, and she shivers as one
of his fingers traces along her spine.

"HEY!" someone shouts at them. They both look up, startled, to find
a disgusted-looking Buffy and a smirking Ethan staring at them.

"I need you two to keep an eye on Ethan while I call Willow and tell
her what I found out."

Ripper grins. "Night just keeps getting better," he says, pulling
out the gun he stole from the cop. He turns off the safety, hands it
to Cordelia, and as she trains the gun on Ethan, and Buffy, looking
as assured as can be expected, walks off, Ripper kicks Ethan in the
ribs.

"Giles!" Buffy shouts. "Not unless he tries to get away...or," she
adds, "unless he gives any sign that he's got something else to share
with us. Cordelia..." Buffy looks at her doubtfully. "You think you
can keep an eye on Giles?"

Cordelia rolls her eyes. "Duh."

Buffy looks from them to Ethan, and finally runs off. "I won't be
long," she promises.

Ethan resumes smirking as soon as Buffy's gone. "Well, doesn't look
like *all* the Slayer's friends are having a bad time. Tell me,
Ripper -- "

"Hey," she snaps at Ethan, "I've kicked you twice in our lives now,
but they say the third time's the charm. Shut up or we'll find out
if that's true or not."

"'Atta girl," Ripper snickers. "Honestly, man, *Cordelia* beat you
up?"

"Hey!" she and Ethan protest at the same time. They glare at each
other.

"I kick hard!" she says, as Ethan says "She didn't beat me up,
just...startled me. Brought me down. Twice, now."

"Sure she did," Ripper sneers, kicking Ethan while he's down and
kissing Cordelia's neck while she keeps the gun trained on Ethan.
"Kick him again, baby. Hard," he adds, teeth closing gently on her
earlobe for a second. She shivers, but her gun hand remains steady,
despite Ethan's leering.

"Well done, Ripper," he mutters weakly. "You know you'll be fired
and sued onto the street for that when the spell wears off, don't
you?"

"Shut up," she and Ripper say at the same time, pulling back their
legs as though to kick him. They look at each other, smirk, and look
back at Ethan.

"I can *so* beat people up," Cordelia mutters. "I could beat you up
right now if I wanted to."

"Sounds like fun," is all Ripper says.

"Oh, please do," Ethan adds.

"Maybe I don't want to," she says sotto voce to Ripper. "Maybe I like
you whole," she adds, and pulls away after a brief kiss to glare at
Ethan. "And I told you to shut up," she says in her normal voice.
She kicks him, and he groans.

"See?" Ripper asks. "Wasn't that fun?"

"Yep," Cordelia said, smiling. "Hope I get a chance to do it again
sometime."

"It's the only good thing about the fact that he keeps coming back
here," Ripper agrees. They both smile cruelly at Ethan, who isn't
smirking anymore, and who remains surprisingly quiet until Buffy
comes back, looking grave.

"Come on," Buffy says, her voice hard, looking only at Cordelia and
Ripper.

"What about Ethan?" Cordelia asks, gun still on Rayne.

"I...Giles, see if you can find something to tie him up with. There
must be rope, or twine, or something around here."

He and Cordelia look at each other for a moment, and she nods at the
coat, still draped over a crate. Ripper grabs it, goes through the
pockets, and finally pulls out a pair of handcuffs.

Cordelia doesn't look at Buffy, but to aim, she's got no choice but
to keep looking at Ethan, who's smirking again.

*

"Wait, you're saying this thing eats *babies*?" Cordelia asks,
staring at Buffy in horror. Vaguely, she can hear Ripper talking to
the desk nurse out front, but she focuses on Buffy now.

"Yeah," Buffy says quietly. "Pretty gruesome, huh? Ethan said
that's why they did the teenager-regression thing. There's no way
people in this town would let Trick get away with it, otherwise."

"When did Ethan say...oh. Never mind."

Buffy looks at her pointedly. "Cordelia..." she starts.

At that point, Ripper storms back in. "Says she never saw who took
'em."

"I *know* who took them," Buffy says grimly.

"Well, are we gonna *do* anything?" Cordelia demands.

"Yeah," Ripper adds. "Let's find the demon, and..."

"Kick its ass!" Cordelia finishes.

"Okay, *that's* scary," Buffy snaps. "And since neither of you was
listening when Ethan was talking, let me clue you in. We don't know
where Lurconis is. Trick could be headed anywhere in town with those
babies. Hell, he might be going -- "

Ripper is frowning now, not scowling or leering or glaring but
*frowning*, he's frowning and just for a moment, he's Giles.
"Lurconis..." he muses. "'Lurconis dwells beneath the city,'" he
recites. "'Filth to filth."

Buffy and Cordelia both stare at him. "What?" Buffy asks.

"I know this," Giles says, deep in thought, staring at Buffy. "Or...
I knew this. 'Lurconis' is...it means 'glutton', and we'll find
it..." He trails off, thinking, then shrugs, and he's Ripper again.
"In the sewers."

"Sewers?" Cordelia repeats, looking down mournfully at her outfit.
"That's great. Giant demon, baby sacrifice, and I'll *never* be able
to save this outfit now."

Buffy glares at her. "What?" Cordelia demands. "Giles is the one
hopped up on curse-chocolate, not me."

"Yeah," Ripper grins, pulling Cordelia to him and kissing her deeply,
"it wouldn't be half as fun otherwise."

"Look, you two!" Buffy finally shouts. "Those children are going to
die unless you can see fit to keep your hands off of each other for
more than three minutes at a time. Giles, I need you to at least
*try* to be an adult. Cordelia, act your age. Or...no, don't do
that. Act *his* age," she says, nod