At lunch the next day, the Scoobies gathered at their usual spot near the snack machines to discuss strategy. Wesley and Willow joined forces in heading up their new Slayer-less taskforce, and no one seemed to object.

Not surprisingly, Buffy was a no-show at school that morning. And although no one mentioned it—not even Xander—they all knew the reason for her absence.

“…so our whole plan hinges on being really sneaky and doing pretty much nothing?” asked Xander for the third time. It’s not that he didn’t get the plan, it’s just that he didn’t figure very heavily in it, and he wanted a bigger part of the action.

“We do nothing until it becomes absolutely necessary,” said Wesley, wiping a smudge off his glasses with his handkerchief. “The less they suspect we know, the better our chances of success. Besides, with Buffy essentially out of commission, we’ll have our hands full with this new vampire menace.”

Xander crossed his arms sulkily and sank back into the couch. “I still don’t see why Oz gets to have all the fun, just because he’s got a van.”

Willow frowned at him; “Xander, you know how important research is. In fact, I’d say your job is the most important job of all.”

Xander looked at her doubtfully and went back to his candy bar.

Cordelia’s eyes suddenly grew to the size of headlights, and she let out a horrified little gasp. The others followed her line of sight, and it instantly became clear what had her so wigged.

Standing in the middle of the hall, for all the world to see, were Giles and Buffy locked in a steamy embrace. While the others stared gape-mouthed and flustered, Willow merely blushed and grinned. The two lovers had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the students, either. There were hoots and cat-calls, and one or two wistful sighs from some of the girls.

“Uh-oh,” said Willow, spying Herr Snyder squeezing his way through the crowd of onlookers. “This could get messy.”

“I’ll handle this,” said Wesley with great aplomb, and headed towards them.

But Snyder beat him to the kissing couple, and made the mistake of yanking Giles away from Buffy. Giles turned on the little man with a snarl and started backing him into the wall.

Snyder, refusing to be humiliated in front of his students, went on lecturing Giles on his outright depravity and the penalties for trespassing on school property until the grip around his throat forced him into silence.

Wesley had to fight his way through the raucous crowd of teens to get near them, and by then, Giles had Snyder in a death grip against a row of lockers. He knew better than to use physical force against him while he was in his current state of mind.

“Mr. Giles,” Wesley started with his most placating tone of voice.

“If you know what’s good for you, Wesley, you’ll stay out of this,” Giles growled and shot him a warning glare. The look in his eyes scared Wesley almost as much as the twelve vampires they’d faced the night before.

“Mr. Giles, think about what you’re doing,” Wesley persisted. “You’ll be of little use to Buffy if you’re behind bars.”

They both paused and thought about what he’d said, while Snyder’s face darkened and his eyes began to bulge. If Giles was taken out of the picture—even if that meant time in jail—it would go a long way in evening the odds in the battle against the Preot.

“On second thought,” said Wesley, backing away, “who am I to interfere? Carry on.”

Snyder sputtered ineffectually at his new librarian. What was it with this school and its librarians? If he got out of this with his head still attached to his shoulders, he would have to have a serious word with Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. In the mean-time, however, he needed to focus on other things. Like breathing and not being dead.

Giles gave the snivelling little principal one last snarl before lowering him back down to the floor. Angry red marks instantly sprung up on Snyder’s neck as the ex-librarian peeled his fingers away.

Buffy came up beside him and held his arm, squeezing the taut muscles beneath his shirt. His display of violence had been for her benefit, and it had had the desired effect—she was looking at him like he’d just sprouted the shiniest and most colourful plumage she’d ever seen. Tearing his eyes away from his future wife, Giles towered over Snyder, who was still gasping for air.

“If I choose to visit my fiancée on school property—or anywhere else, for that matter—you’d be wise to keep your distance,” Giles said in a menacingly calm voice.

Snyder knew it wasn’t an idle threat, and beat a hasty retreat to his office before Giles got it in his head to finish what he’d started. Wesley took off after him, hoping to do a little damage control. With the object of ridicule removed, the jeering mob of students quickly became bored and dispersed, leaving Buffy and Giles alone. Giles gave her one last kiss, then turned and left without even acknowledging the rest of the group.

Willow tried hard not to take it personally. It wasn’t like he was deliberately ignoring her…them. But after everything they’d gone through together, it was hard to accept that she…they…no longer meant anything to him. Until this demon was summarily kicked out on it purple-smoky ass, Giles was pretty much its slave, and everyone else took a back seat to it.

Buffy bounced cheerfully over to the gang and sat between Willow and Xander on the couch. Her radiant smile was contagious, and Willow quickly found herself smiling back. Buffy was discreetly trying to show off her ring, but no one seemed to catch on and she was getting frustrated.

“Look!” she said at last, holding out her hand so everyone could see. “We’re engaged! Giles asked me to marry him!” Buffy bounced excitedly on the couch, taking Willow and Xander along for the ride.

Xander didn’t quite know how to react. He knew this kind of thing was supposed to be of the good, but after seeing their blatant display of affection and aggression in front of God and everyone, he also knew they weren’t exactly themselves. Buffy hadn’t even noticed the bandage on Oz’s neck, which should have had her in a frenzy of Slayer/friend concern. Still, she was his friend, and she deserved to be happy.

He slapped a cheery smile onto his face and said; “Congratulations, Buffster! When’s the big day?”

“We’ve decided to wait until after the babies are born. I know we’ll have our hands full, but at least then I won’t look like a tent in my wedding dress.”

No one said what they were all thinking—that Buffy had said “babies”, and it wasn’t just a slip of the tongue. It could only mean the demon she was carrying had already made some deep connection with her, making it as precious to her as their own baby.

“What’s with the grim?” she asked. “This is a happy occasion. Isn’t it?” Doubt crept into her voice. “It is a happy occasion, right Will?”

Willow perked up; “Of course it’s happy. We’re all happy for you. It’s just…well, kinda sudden.”

“I know what you guys are thinking,” Buffy said, seriously. “But this has nothing to do with the Preot thing. That’s another reason we’re waiting until after the twins are born—we want to be sure we don’t get caught M.U.I.”

“Mooey?” asked Xander, confused.

“Married Under the Influence,” explained Buffy.

“Oh.”

Wesley appeared, back from his visit with Snyder. “You’d better have a word with Mr. Giles,” he said, leaning over the back of the couch behind Buffy. “I managed to calm Mr. Snyder down a bit—I think I’ve still got a job, at least—but if your “fiancé” keeps coming round, Snyder will bring the police into it. And he’ll have you expelled.”

“He can’t do that,” said Buffy angrily.

“Now that you’re eighteen, he can. You could always put up a fight, but all he needs is the tiniest excuse and you’re no longer a student here.”

“Not like it matters now anyway,” Buffy shrugged.

“What do you mean?” asked Willow.

“Oh…nothing,” Buffy evaded. “So what’d I miss in Biology? Can I get your notes?”

Willow let it drop, but her instincts told her the Demon Team were already planning their first move. That meant they would have to be prepared much sooner than they’d anticipated. Tonight she would set their plan in motion, just to be safe.

“You know why, Mom. Anyway, it’s not like you’ll never see me—I’m only going as far as Giles’ place. Quick phone call away. And daily visits, I promise.” She hated lying to her mom, especially when she was still getting over her running away last summer. But she knew it had to be done. She knew her mom couldn’t be safe until this whole thing was over, but it still sucked.

Giles was waiting outside by his car. He popped open the trunk and helped her load her suitcases next to his in the cramped compartment. She gave him a look that told him just how much she hated this. His lips thinned in a frown that told her he felt the same way. Still, they had no choice.

They would leave. Giles would take them somewhere they wouldn’t be found, then they would lay low. Buffy had wanted to wait, but Giles convinced her that if they didn’t leave immediately, they ran the chance that their friends would catch on and try to follow them. And if they stayed in Sunnydale, they’d be putting everyone they loved at risk.

Buffy glumly got into the passenger seat, trying hard not to dwell on the bad. There was plenty of good in this situation, she had to remind herself. Sure, she would be cut off from her family and friends and all things familiar, but on the plus side—no more classes!

As Giles got in the driver’s side, a draught of wind caught his uniquely Gilesy scent—masculine and clean—and whirled it through the car. Buffy took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. Everything would be fine, so long as they stayed together.

Giles turned to her with a scrunching of leather and caressed her cheek. All thoughts of sadness and guilt vanished like mist in the sunshine, and Buffy smiled warmly back at him.

As the Citroën pulled away from the curb, the lights came on in a van parked half a block away. Oz let the car turn onto the main road before following. He wasn’t worried about losing them—his eyesight was better than most people’s, especially at night. Plus, he’d been in Giles’ car before, and he knew even his old box van could easily outrun it.

Giles abruptly turned off the highway and headed west towards the ocean.

“Hey!” said Buffy, as if he’d peeked inside her mind and decided to squash her fantasy underfoot.

“Yes?” he asked, innocently.

“I thought we were running away.”

“Yes. And we’re here,” he said as they trundled down a poorly-paved road leading to a new beach-front development.

“But I thought we were running far away,” she complained. “We’re, like, walking distance from home—do you really think they won’t find us here?”

“No,” he answered flatly. “I’m certain they won’t. You said yourself that Willow and your mother couldn’t find me after I’d left, and this was where I was hiding. Have you ever read “The Purloined Letter”?” he asked.

“I’m in high school, Giles. They don’t let us read dirty stories.”

“Not ‘loins’—‘purloined’,” he sighed in exasperation. Maybe he could get her to read some decent literature while they were holed up together. “My point is—sometimes the best place to hide is in plain view. No one expects it.”

Buffy was warming to the idea. Being this close to home would take the edge off the homesickness, for one thing. She could check up on the gang, too, so long as they didn’t know about it. She gazed out the window, feeling a new sense of relief. Soon the rough road they were on turned into new pavement, and they were passing by rows of beautiful homes, squeezed compactly onto tiny lots, and crowding cul de sacs with their grandeur.

“Well, at least we’re running away in style,” she said, impressed. “Posh dig, Giles—I had no idea you were loaded.”

Giles battled to keep a straight face as he kept driving, leaving the prime, beachfront real estate behind. The road became rutted and pocked once more, and Buffy’s face could have been the poster child for disappointment.

A little farther down the road the pavement ended and they turned down an overgrown dirt road. A thick curtain of trees hemmed them in on either side, blocking out the moon’s pale illumination, so the only light came from their headlights. Buffy’s teeth clacked in her head as the little Citroën braved ruts and potholes that threatened to bottom it out. She shot Giles a dirty look. Sensing it, Giles’ lips curled up in the tiniest of smiles, but he kept his eyes on the road, worried he might miss the path that led to his hideout.

Giles slowed the car to a crawl, and even then he nearly missed the turnoff. The car nudged its way through overhanging foliage that slapped and scraped against the roof and doors. Thankfully they didn’t have far to go—the little lane ended in a small clearing.

A large, dilapidated log cabin loomed out of the darkness at them like something out of Stephen King’s nightmares. Giles got out of the car and started unloading their luggage, but Buffy just sat there, staring at the monstrosity in front of her.

Cosy ski cabin in the mountains it was not.

It looked like one good push would knock the whole thing over like a house of cards. No. A house of cards would probably put up more resistance, she thought.

Giles tapped lightly on her window. “Come on,” he said, brimming over with a pride she thought was totally unjustified. She climbed out of the car and stood facing her new home-away-from-home like she thought it might suddenly attack.

Giles wished he’d brought his camera—the look on her face was priceless.

“I think you’ll like it,” he said, picking up his two suitcases and heading for the front door. “You can’t tell from here, but the back of the house opens onto the ocean. The view is quite breathtaking.”

“Of course,” she said dryly, “what dream-house would be complete without a terminal case of dry rot and a stunning view of the Pacific?” Buffy gathered up her bags and followed Giles, casting wary glances at the macabre, moonlight-iced ruin they were about to enter. As she walked past the window, Buffy leaned close and squinted into the darkness beyond and her heart sank. From what little she could see, the place was a death trap. Thick beams from the ceiling and staircase leaned at alarming angles and there were gaping black holes in the floor. The only piece of furniture she could see was a heavy wooden dining table, tilting precariously where the floor had given way beneath one of its legs.

Seriously perturbed at the thought of spending the night in such a dive, she grumbled under her breath and stepped up onto the “porch” where Giles was fishing for a key in his coat pocket.

“You were worried about theft?” she asked sarcastically.

“It’s not locked,” he answered mysteriously. “Damn, I could have sworn…ah, here it is.” He pulled out a gleaming gold key from his pants’ pocket just as Buffy pushed the door open.

A smell of decay greeted her nostrils as the stagnant air inside the old building was stirred up by the fresh air from outside. Buffy wrinkled her nose in disgust and peered cautiously through the open door.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You are kidding, right Giles?” she asked hopefully.

“Not in the least,” he answered. But instead of going inside, he shut the door again and fit the little gold key into the rusty old lock. He turned the key and pushed to door open again.

Buffy stared, dumbfounded, at the transformed interior. While the place still looked like a reject from the set of “Deliverance” on the outside, the interior was now that of an adorable country cabin. Giles flicked on the lights, illuminating her new home, and tears sprang to her eyes. It was cosy, just like her fantasy ski cabin. No bearskin rug, perhaps, but the fireplace was there. And there were books everywhere, giving the place a Giles-friendly atmosphere that she approved of whole-heartedly.

“I thought you’d like it,” said Giles, closing the door behind them.

When the door closed on his friends, Oz waited a bit then ventured in for a closer look, keeping to the shadows so he wouldn’t be seen. Up close, peeking over the windowsill, Oz saw the gutted husk of a home. The dirt looked like it hadn’t been disturbed in years, and he doubted if the floor was strong enough to handle the weight of a person.

The place looked deserted. If he hadn’t seen his friends go in with his own eyes, Oz would have assumed they weren’t there and gone off to pick their trail up again. They were there, though—no matter what his senses were now telling him. Feeling like he hadn’t yet put in a full night’s surveillance, Oz retreated to his hiding place in the bushes and hunkered down to watch the place. A moment later he was glad he had.

Giles appeared in the strange light of the open door once more. Leaving the door flapping open, he went to move the car. He drove it into the thick underbrush, then got out and covered it with loose branches until it was all but invisible to the naked eye. From his vantage point, Oz could see part of the cabin through the open doorway, and what he saw was not what he’d seen through the window. The others were not going to believe this.

Welcome to The Outer Limits, he thought, and loped off back to the van.