Title: A Spot of Bother (5/5)
Author: Gail Christison

(notes and disclaimer with part one)

Jenny was about to say something when a disturbance in the ER coalesced into a familiar and grating voice. He was walking, but he was wearing a powder blue robe and someone who looked enough like him to have to be a relative, perhaps even his mother, was fussing and dithering, making the patient more obnoxious than he already was.

"Oh look, Irritating Smurf," Buffy drawled.

"Wow, that's a lotta spots," Willow remarked. Then her nose wrinkled. "...And ick...some of them are infected. He scratched."

"Of course he did," Giles and Jenny said at the same time.

"Summers!"

"Sn...Principal Snyder," she replied, failing to conceal her amusement. In bare feet he really was as tiny as his shriveled little walnut of a heart.

"What is this?" Snyder demanded, taking in all the faces at the treatment station in front of him.

"Chicken pox convention. Xander would have been here but he decided to pass on the hospital gown."

Snyder gave the Slayer a filthy look and turned to Giles. "I see you're infected. At least you're not slacking."

"No. *We're* not slacking," Jenny drawled, her color improving all the time.

"Ah. Ms Computers...dare I ask if any of my teachers are actually still working?" He turned to Buffy and Willow. "And don't you two have homework?"

"Mine's all done," Willow squeaked.

"Charming, as always," Buffy muttered then raised her voice to a normal level. "Chicken pox look good on you."

"Don't get fresh with me, Summers. Why haven't you got chicken pox?"

"Had 'em when I was four. Did they skip a generation or something?"

"Hey," Jenny protested.

"Sorry," Buffy managed, suppressing amusement.

"For your information I had them," Snyder sneered defiantly then lost a bit of steam. "Or at least that's what my mother thought. Who knew that an allergic reaction could pass for chickenpox. "

"It can't," Willow pointed out. "No fever, no crustiness."

Snyder's nostrils pinched. "I never said my mother was a doctor. She nursed me for seven days until the rash was gone. Like I said...how was I to know?" He turned to Giles. "What's your excuse?"

Giles looked a little nonplussed. "Luck," he offered finally.

A nurse attempted to guide Snyder to his examination cubicle but he stood his ground. "Whatever all of you are up to, I'm going to find out. I know something's going on."

Willow tried to look innocent, Buffy smirked, Jenny Calendar firmly suppressed a desire to grin and Giles raised an eyebrow.

"Hey guys."

They all turned, and Xander wriggled his fingers goofily. "I figured you'd need a ride so I picked up the Citroen. Man that's a nasty car...an elephant would be easier to shift than those gears, not to mention, for a piece of junk it has one insanely expensive radiator hose."

"Harris. I knew it. Whatever you losers are up to, I am going to find out," Snyder warned, then sauntered off, pulling his elbow away from the harried nurse as she guided him to his examination."

Xander watched him go, blinking, then turned to the others. "He scratched, didn't he?"

"That would be what all those nasty oozy sores were on his forehead," Willow confirmed.

"I hope he has nasty oozy sores in lots of places."

"Harsh, Buff...but I like it," Xander grinned.

"How on earth did you get a radiator hose for my car?" Giles demanded. "Do you know how difficult...?"

"That would be a 'yes'," Xander confirmed cockily. "Except I have this Uncle, who has business with cars that we don't speak of in polite company. As a matter of fact we don't speak of Uncle Leo in polite company...we just buy car parts from him."

"Is that why I don't know who he is?" Willow asked, bemused.

"Uh-huh. Remember how much you liked Uncle Rory? Think of Leo as his older, creepier brother...which he is."

"Oh...*oh*..." Willow shook her head as though to shake that thought right out of it. "Ick."

"So hey...are we going home...or is Miss Calendar, here, under house-arrest? Oh...look...more chicken pox. Did they skip a generation or something?"

Jenny flashed him a dark look but everyone else laughed. She finally relented and smiled too. "I'm only here under observation. If you can rustle up a doctor, we can probably talk our way out of here."

She was right. Since all trace of the effects of the pheromone had worn off, and the spots had come out, she was presenting as a mild case of chicken pox. The ER couldn't clear them all out fast enough, accompanied by warnings to go home and stay away from anyone they might otherwise infect.

"Well, now we know how the sardines feel," Buffy grumbled when they extricated themselves from the vehicle, Giles stretching his back after sliding stiffly from the passenger's seat, and Willow trying to get feeling back into the arm that had been pressed up against the door for the whole trip.

"Yes, well," Giles huffed.

"It's all right for you," Buffy shot back, "calling dibs on the front seat just because you have eight foot long legs."

"Yeah, England, get over it," Jenny teased. "And by the way...not riding in the back of that thing...ever again. Got that?"

He met her dancing eyes and twinkled back. "Understood," he said. He suspected that they were both thinking about the same thing but the other three weren't showing any signs of leaving. Then Jenny's color waned alarmingly and she swayed. Xander gallantly supported her, only to be unceremoniously supplanted in the most elegant way possible by Giles.

"Jenny?"

"It's okay. Kinda not feeling so great. I knew I was getting off way too easy."

"Well, yeah," Xander agreed. "You were looking way too comfortable after all the suffering Giles and me have done."

She looked from one to the other and laughed. "Oh God, you guys both look like hell. It was way too soon for either of you to out of bed for this long."

"And that makes three of you," Willow said pointedly. "We should go in. Y'know...chairs...sitting... Not falling down."

Willow and Buffy made coffee and tea. Well, mostly Willow made beverages and Buffy raided the cupboards. The end result for the three seedy looking characters in the living room was a large tea tray filled not only with teapot, cups and mugs of coffee, but buttered toast, plenty of cookies for Xander to hoover, shortbread for Giles to dunk, and M&Ms which seemed to be emigrating mostly into Buffy's mouth every few minutes.

The repast was fallen upon, Giles almost seeming to commune with his steaming cup of tea.

It wasn't until Willow got up to go to the bathroom that Xander noticed her color had waned and that she was looking distinctly mosquito-bitten on her forehead.

"Ah...Will...um...I think a navel inspection is required here."

Willow looked confused. Everyone else looked up.

"Willow...you told us you'd had chicken pox," Giles exclaimed.

"I did...I mean I have. Had chickenpox, that is. I don't understand."

At that moment there was a knock, more like a pounding, on Giles's door.

Buffy rose warily and went to answer it, turning after a brief conversation.

"Um, Giles...some demon buddies here to parlay with you," she said dryly, her eyes, body language letting him know silently that there was no danger.

"Well, um...uh...show them in, then."

Buffy stood aside to allow two demons, not much taller than she, to pass.

"It's them," Jenny was surprised into yelping.

Giles slid her a tolerant glance. "Yes," he said then faced the visitors again. "I believe you were looking for me?"

The elder of the two, as far as anyone could guess, stepped forward.

"You are the Watcher. Your Slayer..." He pointed. "That one....saved one of our children, six nights ago, from being eaten by a Xynoth."

Buffy shrugged. "I was hunting the Xynoth. It took out some bums down at the docks and did a lot of damage to a street kid who tried to help them. When I found it, it was motivating down an alley on Palmer with this teeny-tiny demon under its arm. I didn't know it was a baby until after I separated the Xynoth from its head, and caught the kid."

"And you didn't mention any of this, why?" Giles asked acerbically.

She shrugged again. "No big. First, I didn't see you for two days after it happened, because I was staying at Willow's. You remember: French makeup test. Study. Trying not to crash and burn again...at least not too painfully. Then all the chickenpox drama. Besides, job done. The Xynoth is dust...Or in this case, evaporating orange slime. And the munchkin was fine...mostly. Except for some wheezy noises...which were entirely not my fault."

"She's right," the elder Ventukahth confirmed. "It was not her fault. Behnne was becoming ill. A childhood malady. In our people the condition causes children suffer respiratory problems, congestion and swollen lymph glands. It is highly contagious and your Slayer was in close contact, including several sneezing attacks."

"Is the baby okay?" Willow asked, alarmed.

The demon smiled and nodded.

Buffy's face scrunched up, remembering. "You really didn't have to remind me. I've had drier showers."

"But you're not sick," Xander objected.

"She's the Slayer," Giles pointed out. "Stronger constitution. I would assume that she's not immune to infection, simply more resistant than the average person. Everyone is different. And there is a pattern here." He flicked a glance toward Willow. "Those who were infected with chickenpox as children have taken much longer to contract this infection. The two viruses must be almost identical...much like cowpox and smallpox."

"Anyone else here notice the amount of pox involved in this conversation?" Xander asked, bemused, then shuddered for dramatic effect.

"So...we're all going to end up with this...thing?" Buffy persisted, ignoring him.

The demon nodded. "We were trying to warn your Watcher. You saved Bennhe. We did not want the virus to make you vulnerable while you were fighting...to put you at risk. We have delivered our message. It's time for us to go."

"Sure. No problem. Thanks," Buffy said awkwardly.

"Your assistance is very much appreciated," Giles added and watch them nod again before slipping away.

"So the Lunch Lady was libeled. Behold, Typhoid Buffy," Xander observed, drawing a dirty look from the object of his flourish. He wasn't squashed for long, smiling lopsidedly at a new thought. "Hey, if we're all highly contagious we should all stay together," he said happily, and looked for someone to second his motion.

"Of course," Giles said sarcastically. "Because the flat is so well equipped to sleep five people. Are you sure you don't want to invite Principal Snyder while you're at it?"

Jenny and Willow worked hard to repress giggles.

"Mom's not coming back from her buying expedition for another week, Buffy volunteered. "If we have to sit this thing out there might as well be some comfort. There's mom's room, my room, the sofa, and the rollaway. And a bigger refrigerator than Giles's. And mom shopped before she left. Not to mention there's actual TV..."

"We're quarantine-ing at the Buff's? Cool!" Xander's grin widened. "Dibs on the couch."

Willow rolled her eyes. "You only want the couch because it comes with TV and nearby kitchen."

He grinned. "Master of the plan, that's me."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Don't worry Will, you can bunk with me. Much more comfy. That leaves the master and the rollaway. You guys can fight that one out between the two of you..."

The Scoobys watched fondly as Giles and Miss Calendar looked at each other.

"So, England, do we have a plan?" Jenny asked mischievously, fully aware of the wide-eyed looks when, after a beat, he started to smile slowly. Then they both grinned wickedly at each other.

Xander covered his eyes. "Oh, God."

Buffy looked at him, then it registered. She looked back at the other pair and rolled her eyes. "And I thought they were cute."

"Oh...but still totally a twosome of cuteness. Looks like you won't need to pull the rollaway down from the attic after all," Willow said cheerfully, then realized what she was saying and went bright red. "O-or you could get it down anyway..."

The two adults had finally leaned in, and were kissing each other, oblivious of their traumatized audience.

Buffy turned to the other two. "I swear if you *ever* mention this to *anyone*...especially my mom...!"

They both shook their heads fervently, as though it would be hard enough overcoming their own trauma, leave alone actually telling anyone else.

"Cool," she said, mollified, and headed for the front door. "I'm not squashing into that car again. I'll see you over there." She shot a last, exasperated look at passionate couple.

"I think I need to go and kill something..."

The End