Part 1

Giles looked around, nervously adjusting his tie. This was the first auction he had been to in some time, and the first in the U.S.  Amazingly, Joyce had set it up. He thought back, grimacing inwardly.  In fact he had been lucky Buffy had mentioned it to him.  After their recent ... encounter, he and Joyce weren't on the best of terms.  How embarrassing, he thought, to have gone Ripper on his charge?s mother. Admittedly, she had enjoyed it too, and as a teenager, Buffy's mother had obviously been a goer, but still, it just wasn't right.

Deliberately removing himself from his reverie involving police cars and handcuffs, he looked around at the competition. In general, they appeared to be what he expected, but he noticed one exceptionally striking brunette with shoulder length hair, pale skin and callous eyes towards the back. The fact that her legs were covered only by a mid-thigh length sheath that somehow matched the severely tailored business suit she wore, brought Ripper close to the surface for a moment before Giles controlled himself.  He looked again, noticing the briefcase she held.  He idly wondered what W&H stood for.

Giles returned himself to the catalogue. He had mentally noted the books he particularly wanted, and thought about the possible costs. He had also noted items he wanted after he had purchased the books he felt were vital, and was more than a little relieved that the books were to be auctioned first.

Giles brought his attention to the podium as Joyce announced that the bidding would begin in five minutes.  Moving toward the seating area, he clutched his bidding placard in his hand tightly. Giles wondered idly for a moment if Joyce was going to also be auctioneer, and breathed a sigh of relief as an obese elderly man came forward.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen.  My name is Horace Ruttilier," he began in a mellow and almost musical voice. "I wish to start the auction without further ado. The first lot is ..."

Giles flipped through the catalogue again.  His first target was lot six, a renaissance illuminated manuscript dealing with methods of detecting witches. Giles allowed the low, almost subliminal noises to flow over him like a soothing breeze as he considered the possibilities in that manuscript. Many of the so-called 'witches', weren't witches at all, but demons in human guise. He hoped that this particular book would tell him the different species of demons and their various powers.

"Lot six, a manuscript, dating to circa 1630, entitled Detecting Wytches and their Kynde."

Giles opened the bidding at the initial asking price, and then sat, a little confused, as the auctioneer looked around. "This marvelous document has no reserve, ladies and gentlemen.  It *must* be sold tonight." That statement motivated other bidders, and in short order, Giles found the bid against him at $250, still only half as much as he had budgeted for the document.

He decided to make a point. "Three Hundred."

Until then, bids had only ascended by ten or twenty dollars per time, so his jump made the other bidders more wary. The auctioneer looked over the room again. "Going once, at three hundred." Giles allowed himself to hope, just a little. "Going twice, ladies and gentlemen this unique piece of New England history is about to be sold." Again the auctioneer scanned the room.

"For the third and last time, going for three hundred dollars, a priceless piece of Massachusetts history ..." Giles repeated to himself time and again 'don?t bid against yourself in all the excitement, Rupert. You know where that leads.' He was well aware that if he did bid again, he would only eat into the $200 he had saved on this purchase, "... sold to the gentleman in the tweed jacket!"

Giles smiled modestly in recognition of the polite applause and tried to compose himself. His next target was lot eight, and he relaxed as lot seven was bid upon. It was a scroll, and Giles noted that the striking woman with the callous eyes was bidding assertively, but never too dramatically. After vigorous, and at times savage, bidding she won her prize, paying in excess of $15, 000 for it.

"Lot Eight, Ladies and Gentlemen, is a first edition, first print run of the classic turn-of-the-century piece The Order Argentum. It's annotated by the author, and I have been asked to commence bidding at the reserve price. The vendor will accept no less than this."  The auctioneer drew a deep breath as he continued, his balding head already spotted with perspiration. "Do I hear two hundred dollars?"

"You do." Giles surprised himself by his comment. 'That's not like me' he thought, as bidding erupted around him.

"Four hundred fifty," Giles bid once again as he thought 'careful old chap.  You can only afford the six hundred you budgeted, plus the two hundred you saved on the first book.?

"Do I hear four-sixty? Four-sixty anyone?"

"Going once ..."

"Four-sixty.?  The voice was deep and held a repressive note.

"Four-seventy."

"Four-eighty."

"Five hundred." Giles upped the scale once again, but this time not as much.  He did want to preserve what he thought of as his 'winnings' if he possibly could.

"Five-ten." Again, the deep voice from behind him overbid Giles.

"Five-fifty," Giles jumped again, and waited.

"Do I hear six hundred?" The auctioneer's voice was obviously hopeful as he spoke. "Six hundred? No? Five-seventy-five? Very well, going once ..."

Once again, Giles felt the thrill of danger that always accompanied him in this situation.

"Going twice ..."

Giles unconsciously drew a breath and held it.

"For the third and final time, this unique reference book is being sold for ..."

Giles tensed.

"Five hundred and fifty dollars." The auctioneer's gavel made a satisfying CLACK as it slammed down.

Giles sat back smugly, all of his target books in his possession, and listened to a ferocious bidding war between the attractive brunette and two other parties. They were all bidding on a scroll which came contained in a beautifully ornate case. The starting price, even if he had been interested, and he had to admit, his Aramaic wasn't the best, was well outside his price range. He knew the case was the reason this scroll was being auctioned in the 'artworks and artifacts' section of the event, rather than with the other books, scrolls and manuscripts. He listened,
amazed, as the price shot up over $50, 000.

Being only human, he decided to see who was bidding. The brunette was fighting two men, and all three were dressed in business suits that screamed 'power and success', even to his somewhat cynical eyes. Oddly, all three also carried hand tooled leather briefcases, with differing sets of initials.  One of the men had a cellphone pressed constantly against his ear and was relaying the various bids to a person who was obviously his principal.  The brunette and the other man worked alone, presumably under a predefined set of instructions.

The brunette decided it was time to strike, and stood, announcing in a clear voice, "two hundred fifty thousand dollars." There was a collective gasp from the audience as her bid hit home. She had jumped a full $70,000 in a single step. The other bidders looked stunned, and Giles could hear the strangled voice of the man using the cellphone. Even the auctioneer was taken aback. "Er ... two-fifty, do I hear more?"

The look of disgust from the two other bidders spoke volumes. The man working on preset instructions sighed and hung his head in his hands, while the cellphone user could be clearly heard saying, "I don't *know* who she is, but she just bid two-fifty!"

"Going once."

"Going twice."

"And sold to Wolfram and Hart."

The room began to echo from voices and conversation as people got up and began discussing the astronomical price paid for a scroll case. The auctioneer cleared his throat. "The last lot, ladies and gentlemen, is a curio."

People looked up, uninterested and resumed their conversations. "This box, it appears, cannot be opened.?  That piqued Giles' interest. He had heard of such things from time to time, like Chinese puzzle boxes and the Council?s safe box that could only be opened by a person specifically enchanted to do so. "The box itself is attractive, carved from a single piece Australian Ironwood at some point in the mid-nineteenth century. The workmanship suggests that the carver was of European origin, but nothing more can be told at present. This item also has no reserve." The auctioneer looked over at Joyce, shrugged helplessly and continued. "I will entertain any opening bid, ladies and gentlemen."

"Fifty," Giles spoke up, his curiosity such that he felt he could afford to spend some of his gains on this oddity. Joyce smiled thankfully at him for a
moment, then remembered that she wasn't supposed to be talking to him and looked away. "I've a mere fifty dollars for this.  Surely someone
would want such an attractive item, if only as a display piece."  The auctioneer sighed. "Fifty dollars, do I hear any more?" He watched helplessly as
the vast majority of the audience was drifting away and beginning to converse in small groups. Sighing, the auctioneer realised no other bids would be made. "Sold, for a mere fifty dollars." He slammed the gavel so hard it split along the handle. ?Congratulations Sir, I personally think you got the best bargain of the night."
 

Part 2

Giles hefted his winnings out of the passenger seat of his car. Upon reaching the door, he perched the books precariously on top of the chest so he could find his key.  Fumbling with the lock, he finally was able to open his door, quickly raising his other hand to steady the books that had become unbalanced during his struggle. Shutting the door clumsily with one foot, he looked first to put his new toys down so he could get comfortable. Sliding them onto the coffee table, he quickly shrugged off his jacket and tie, leaving them where they fell on the floor. He then sat down on the couch, looking over his loot with an avaricious eye.  Rubbing his hands together in eager anticipation, he reached for the first book.

As he opened Detecting Wytches and their Kynde he kicked his shoes off, moaning softly in pleasure as his feet were released from their constraints. Then he remembered the box, and looked at it where it sat on the coffee table. It was a very dark brown, almost black.  At first glance, the carvings appeared to owe their heritage to the German cuckoo clock school of design.  However, as Giles examined it more carefully, he saw what he thought might be Australian Aboriginal motifs subtly worked into the design. The brass hardware was tarnished from age and had seen better days. {How curious, Giles thought. The design alone should have made it a desirable item, but I guess anything after the insanity over that scroll would appear to be a let down.} As he contemplated the inconsistencies inherent in the design, he felt the book on his lap slip. Reaching down, he grabbed at it to catch it. As he lifted the book, a single sheet of paper slipped out of the centre of the manuscript.

He bent down and picked it up. It was a short list of notes and page references, made with an old fashioned pen, probably, he thought, a fountain pen. He bent down and picked it up. It was a short list of notes and page references, made with an old fashioned pen, probably, he thought, a fountain pen. Out of curiosity, he flicked the first reference open, and began to read. {Thank god they didn't write in the margins} he thought. As he became involved in the documentation of what appeared to be a completely unknown set of witch-trials, Giles forgot the box completely.

*                       *                       *                       *

Giles entered the Sunnydale High library earlier than normal, intent on examining the rest of his purchases. He had read until almost three in the morning, and still had only looked at the one volume. He sat comfortably in his office, his tea already prepared and in place on his desk. The books were stacked neatly in a pile on the corner of his desk while the box was on the blotter in front of him. He opened another of the books; this one entitled Devyls and Daemons, and looked briefly at the woodcuts first. He was still doing so as he heard the voices of Willow and Buffy emanating from the main room of the library.

Giles lay the book down with a sigh and walked out into the open area. "You're both in bright and earl, to say nothing of being disgustingly chipper."

Buffy tossed her head perkily as she answered, "Hi Giles, late night?"

“No Buffy, I got caught up reading one of the books I acquired at your mother’s auction. Which doesn’t obviate my question. Why are you so damn bright today?”

“Remember Giles, a crabby watcher is a careless watcher!” Buffy continued to almost bounce as she spoke. “Why am I so happy? Because we’ve got rid of Gwendolyn the wicked watcher of the west, and I’m slay-free. Until tonight, anyway.” Buffy craned her head to peer around Giles shoulder as she continued prattling. “So, you bought books huh? Big surprise there Giles. Ooh! What’s that?” Buffy asked as she caught sight of Giles’ mysterious box.

“Part of my job, Buffy, is to acquire new and suitable volumes for the school library. I did that most assiduously last night.”

"Sure, Giles  So what's in the box?" Buffy asked eagerly.

Willow crowded in next to Buffy, eager to see the new purchases.  She reached out for one book, admiring the detail given to the portraits of the demons while Buffy turned the front of the box to her. Buffy reached out to open the box, and as she took hold of the lid, she tried to lift it she discovered it would not budge. Buffy looked at it, perplexed, and tried again; this time exerting all of her slayer enhanced strength. Again, nothing happened.

Willow giggled for a moment and stifled her laughter at Buffy’s glare. “Sorry,” she said very unapologetically, and tried to look serious.

“Buffy, there’s something I should …” Giles began, only to be interrupted in mid-sentence.

“Don’t worry Giles. I’ll get it open for you.” Buffy frowned, sticking her tongue out the corner of her mouth in concentration.  Turning the box from side to side, she examined the hinges and lock.  Finally she nodded in satisfaction and went to the weapons locker. Under the concerned eyes of Giles and Willow, she carefully selected a large double-headed axe.  As she walked back to the box, she hefted it in her hand, testing its weight.  With a grin, she stood in front of the box and raised the axe above her head.

“Er … Buffy?  I don't think that's ...”

“Did you know, Buffy that a double headed axe is called a Labrys, and it's used in some places as a symbol of lesbianism?”

Buffy turned her head, the axe upraised and glared at both Giles and Willow. "Ready? Now!" She swung the blade down with incredible speed, in a glittering arc. As the axe connected, the handle shattered, sending the head of the axe ricocheting across the room to embed itself in Giles' office door.

A voice came from the entrance to the library. “Great Googley-Moogley! Demons before breakfast?”

The trio turned to find Xander and Cordelia entering the library.  Willow and Giles waved in greeting while Buffy scowled at them before turning her glare on the box in front of her.  She growled low in her throat before she grabbed her bag and stomped past Xander and Cordelia without a backwards glance.

Xander and Cordelia watched the door swing shut in surprise. "G-Man, what happened?" Xander asked, as the couple walked toward the table.

"Yeah, why'd Buffy get so bitchy?  And what's up with the axe in the door?  A welcome mat would work much better," Cordelia observed acerbically, noticing the axe embedded in the door.

“It’s this box,” Giles explained. “I tried to tell her that it’s a magical device, but I didn’t get a chance to finish what I was saying.” Giles examined the box, shocked to find it unharmed from Buffy's efforts.

As she heard him, Willow began giggling again. “What sort of spell should we cast to open it Giles?” Her enthusiasm for the chance to work magic once again was self-evident as she spoke.

Giles looked at Willow over the rim of his glasses.  "I'm not sure at the moment, actually Willow.," he admitted as his hands began fiddling with the lock.  "The auctioneer said no one knew how to … oh my." Giles heard a quite audible click and looked down to see the lid of the box slowly rise to reveal its contents. Immediately, all four peered into the now open box.
 

Part 3

"What're they?"

"They're gorgeous! Neimans had some of those just like it the other day "

"They look antique. Look at the size of those jewels.  They must have cost a fortune!"

"Good heavens!"

Cordelia immediately reached into the box. "Oh, these are twenty-four carat.  They're heavy," was her initial observation as she lifted one of the armbands out.

"Cordelia, do you think you should really..."

"Giles, who's the one here who knows her jewelry anyway. Especially Estate jewelry?"

Willow reached for another, saying "Wow.  These must be pretty old.  Look at the engraving there, they look like glyphs of some kind."

Xander's eyes lit up as he saw the bracer.  He grabbed another.  "Awesome!  Just like Space Ghost!"

Giles reached in and retrieved yet another of the armbands. The first thing he observed was that the other three all were fitted with Small sapphires, while the one he took from the box was fitted with rubies of the same size. He looked closely at the armband. It was wide, perhaps four inches from top to bottom, and obviously designed to fit on a forearm. All of them, he could see, had some kind of pictoglyphic writing. It was an alphabet with which he was completely unfamiliar. He turned the armband to the light, and could see the plain and unworked gold on the inside. {There's a clasp there,} he thought. Looking up, he said "Don't any of you..."

"... put them on ..." Giles trailed off to see all three wearing the armbands.

The three looked at him guiltily.  "Whoops," said Willow.

Cordelia shrugged and then smiled, admiring her forearm.  "Come on, Giles.  It's jewelry.  No harm ever came from jewelry!  Especially something this expensive!"

"Actually, Cordelia, there was the Koh-i-noor which was reputed to curse any monarch who touched it," Giles replied.

"Oh oh!  Don't forget the Hope Diamond.  It was cursed too!" Willow put in.

"And don't forget the Ring of Krypton.  It almost killed Superman in "The Golden Ring" Series!" Xander said.

The three looked at him in confusion.

Finally Cordelia spoke up.  "Xander, that's Superman, not real life!"

Xander pouted.  "Yeah, well, the theory's the same."

he four were silent for a moment. "Well ..." Willow said, a little sadly, "I guess we should take them off."

Cordelia sighed.  "Well, I still don't think jewelry can be bad, but maybe we should, at least until we figure out what they are."

"Quite right.  I believe if you just undo the clasp, it should come off," Giles instructed.

Each of them tried to unlock the clasps. “Damn it, Giles. I don’t seem to be able to unhook the clasp.” Cordelia said, a mixture of happiness and annoyance in her voice. “Would you try for me?”

“Uh … I can’t get it either.” Willow said quietly, just a frisson of fear tainting her voice.

Xander looked at both girls, and began to worry. He reached down and attempted to undo the armband he was wearing. “Um … no success here either.”

“Like that’s any kind of surprise,” Cordelia snapped waspishly.

“And you’re doing any better?” Xander snapped back.

“Stop it!” Giles spoke with quiet authority. “Now, let me try with Cordelia’s.” He examined the clasp carefully. “Oh dear. When you locked the clasps in place, something seems to have happened. It looks rather like the clasp has locked into the inside of the armbands. I’m rather unhappy about this.”

“You’re unhappy?” Xander asked, sarcasm oozing from every word. “You aren’t the one locked into this … this …whatever it is. And I’m a man. I shouldn’t be wearing this. Oh God! Now Larry’ll never leave me alone!”

“Um, okay.  Now, let's get back to the real problem," Cordelia stated.  "This so doesn't go with my outfit."

“I thought you said that jewels went with any outfit,” Willow asked slyly.

“Well, they do, when they're in a modern and fashionable setting.  This is just ... retro, and not in the good way.”

“I know it’s beastly of me to be so uncivilised,” Giles spoke up. Deliberately over-emphasising his Britishness in an attempt to catch their attention, “but I think we are going to have to be very cautious. We have no idea what these things do, or were made for.”

“So, after-school research?” Willow asked. At Giles nod she caustically observed “That’ll be a nice change.”

“Wow Willow, you sound like me!” Cordelia said enthusiastically.

“Thanks, Cordy. I like to learn from the best,” responded Willow, winking at the brunette.

Giles leaned back in his chair, sighing. {I know they’re teenagers, but do they have to be quite so adolescent?} He thought idly. {Still, they do a wonderful job, in the main. The childishness isn’t that great a price to pay}

Giles' ruminations were interrupted by an annoyed humph. “How'd you get it open?” Buffy asked, pouting.

“Well, after somebody tried to decapitate Giles' door, he just popped the top open,” Willow answered.

“Oh,” Buffy said sullenly before brightening.  “I must’ve loosened it for him! Oooh, what are you guys wearing?”  She asked, peering into the box and taking the last armband. She slid it onto her arm and held it out experimentally.

“NO!” Four voices cried out in unison.

She looked at them perplexed for a moment before slipping it off.  “It doesn't go with my coloring.  Sapphire looks better on me than ruby.  Willow, give me yours so I can try it on,” the slayer instructed.

“It won’t come off, Buffy. Neither will Xander’s or Cordy’s.”

“Oh don’t be such a spoilsport Wills. I only want to try it.”

“I’m not being a spoilsport. The clasps have locked inside.” Willow said. “Look.” She added for emphasis. She held her arm out, so Buffy could examine the clasp.

“I’ll just snap it, Wills. Slayer strength to the rescue!” Buffy giggled, raising a fist like Mighty Mouse.

“No! Buffy, I don't think that would be a wise solution …” Giles began, only to notice he was already too late.

“Oh Giles, it’s not a problem,” Buffy answered as she attempted to twist the small section of clasp still exposed sideways, but found she couldn’t even move it slightly. “Tough little thing. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore.” She still giggled, taking a childish delight in her friend’s predicament.

“Damn impetuous children. Why ask the adult what they should do?” Giles muttered under his breath.

“I heard that G-Man! I’m just sitting here dreading seeing Larry. No impetuosity whatsoever,” Xander retorted.

“What is it with Larry?” Cordelia asked, not really wanting to lose the armband for some reason, even if it didn’t suit her clothing.

Xander blushed and looked down at the table. Cordelia’s eyebrow raised. “Xander? What is it about Larry?”

Xander muttered an answer, forgetting Buffy’s slayer enhanced hearing. “He can’t be! He plays football,” she squealed.

“Oh, he is. He told me. And can I just say … far too much information was received.”

“He’s what?” Cordelia and Willow both asked simultaneously.

Larry’s a … he’s …” Xander’s comments were interrupted by the bell ringing for the first class of the day.

The four teenagers all hurriedly promised to report back immediately after the last period of the day to begin researching the armbands, as they headed for their first class.
 

Part 4

Cordelia looked around the room. Everything seemed brighter, louder, more crisp.  The cheerleaders moved as almost as one, the camaraderie almost palpable. She could see with greater clarity and vividness than normal. She could see the tentative movements that presaged Harmony’s mis-steps, Sandra’s amazing balance as she held the bottom of the pyramid like a rock. ‘Cheerleading,’ she thought, ‘is wonderful.’

“Where did she get that thing? It’s gorgeous. The bitch.”

Cordelia looked around, confused. She was sure it was Harmony talking, but they were separated by the whole width of the gym.

“God, I know!  I saw one just like it in the Vogue that came out today!” Aura complained, glaring across the gym at Cordelia.

Cordelia's eyes widened. ‘But that's impossible! They're over there and I'm over here!’ She thought to herself, her hand lightly caressing the bracer, tracing its contours while her brow furrowed in thought. Her hand stilled as she realized what she was doing. Swallowing, she glanced down at the golden band on her forearm. ‘Could it … but it's just … Ha!  And Xander said jewelry couldn't be functional!’ She thought triumphantly.

She shook herself out of her reverie. Straightening, she called out, “Okay, people. Don't take all day! I do have places to be you know and you all really need the practice.” The brunette trotted towards the rest of the cheerleaders as she spoke, all the time listening for other comments that she should be unable to hear. Having heard none, she began to organize the practice in her normal efficient manner.

The brunette called out, “All right, everyone. We do need to make sure the pyramid works. Can you take your places please.” As the bottom tier of four lined up, making sure they were properly braced, Cordelia looked around. ‘I know, Harmony. That’ll teach her to call me a bitch.’ She thought in satisfaction. “Now, I want to see the structure, so, Harm, could you take my usual place at the apex?” ‘I hope she can get over her fear of heights.’

Harmony visibly blanched then nodded, muttering under her breath as she shakily began the climb up the pyramid of human bodies. “The bitch, I hope she catches something gross from Xander.”

Cordelia's eyes narrowed as she heard what Harmony had muttered. ‘I can't believe she just wished venereal diseases on me!  And hello, would Cordelia Chase be dating someone with venereal diseases? I think not!  God that girl is OH GOD!’  Cordelia's attention was brought back to the pyramid with a terrified cry from Harmony.  She looked up to see the girl at the top of the pyramid, which was now swaying badly.  Harmony finally lost her balance and tumbled off the top, heading straight for the hard wooden floor of the gym.

Without thinking twice, Cordelia ran forward, just in time to catch Harmony before she hit the ground.  She gently lay Harmony on the floor and looked down at the blonde. “You okay, Harm?” She asked anxiously.

Harmony looked up at her in shock. “How'd you … you moved so fast and how come you didn't drop me?”

Cordelia glared at the girl.  ‘Of all the ungrateful … hey, how did I not drop her?’ “Well, you know, it was hard, ‘cause you’ve obviously eaten one too many sundaes this week but … adrenaline! You know, like those grandmas who can lift cars?”

“Oh Cordy, you aren’t that old,” Harmony responded in a syrupy voice.

Cordelia let Harmony's head drop onto the floor with a thud.

“Ow! Cordy, that hurt!” Harmony whined, sitting up and rubbing her head.

“Sorry, Harm.  Guess the adrenaline wore out,” Cordelia replied, standing up.  She looked around, noting that the rest of the team had undone the pyramid.  She sighed. “Well, I can see we won't be getting any more done today.  See you guys tomorrow.  And don't forget to work on those steps!” She told them before going to get her bag.

She quickly gathered her belongings together before leaving the gym. ‘Gotta find Giles,’ she said to herself, grinning.  ‘This is so cool!’

        *                       *                       *                       *

Willow sat looking blankly at the computer screen in front of her, absent-mindedly teasing the unfamiliar weight on her forearm; her fingers idly tracing the patterns of glyphs. She was thinking about her English essay. ‘Why does Shakespeare always have to mean something? Oh well, I suppose I had better start.’

As she focused on the topic, she began to write. After a minute or so, she began to hear an odd whirring buzz, which interrupted her concentration. She stopped typing and looked up, but the sound had ceased. Shrugging, she returned to her work, less than a minute later, the noise was there again. Once again she stopped and looked up, and once again the noise stopped. ‘Odd. Never mind though.’ Willow thought. ‘I need to read what I’ve written so far.’

Willow paged back to the beginning of the document. As she read, she nodded, or muttered and made small corrections, then, on page nine, she blinked. ‘Goddess! I’ve done all this in ten minutes?’ Willow sat there, stunned. ‘I’m possessed! I must be. There’s nothing else that could make me ... oh no! I haven’t seen Buffy since the library! What if she’s dead. What if I’m the new slayer. I don’t want to be a slayer. I’d be a really bad slayer! Buffy’s a slayer. Slayers are fighters, not thinkers. She wouldn't ever be able to come up with something this intelligent in a few hours, much less ten minutes!’ Willow thought to herself, before slapping her hand over her mouth. ‘I can't believe I thought that!  That was so … mean!  Oh goddess, I really am possessed!’ Willow stared at the screen in shock.  ‘Oh-my-goddess, what if Buffy has to slay me?  What if being mean is just a precursor to a whole downward spiral where I become evil and do mean things like … like putting ‘Kick Me’ signs on peoples’ backs and rolling my eyes at teachers?’

‘Calm down Willow Rosenberg. You’re being hystericaller than usual. Hystericaller? Is that a word? Guess it is now, I just invented it.’ The little redhead giggled to herself. ‘And can something that makes me do my work faster be bad?  Think how much research I could do!  And how quickly I could get all the demons into the database!  Ooooh, and how fast I could memorize those books Giles doesn't want me reading!’

Willow gradually composed herself and decided that she should speak with Giles, but only after she finished the essay. ‘After all,’ She reasoned, ‘this might wear off and I'd have to spend a few hours finishing it!'

        *                       *                       *                       *

Xander tugged at his shirtsleeves. He really did not like the possibilities of someone seeing him wearing a … bracelet. Making sure that the armband was completely concealed, he entered his first class--History. He hated history. He freely admitted hating it, just as he freely admitted hating all his other classes too. Except study hall.  He could read his comics in study hall. ‘But is study hall really a class?’ He mused to himself as he dropped his books on his desk and took his seat.

“Hey Xander!” Larry said as he sat down in the desk next to him.

Xander nodded at Larry, still lost in thought.  His fingers were lightly caressing his armband.

“Cool bracelet, Harris,” Larry commented.

Xander jerked up and stared down at his hand. ‘I could have sworn I pulled my shirt down to cover that stupid thing.’ He thought to himself.  He smiled weakly at Larry before tugging again at his sleeve.

He smiled weakly at Larry before tugging again at his sleeve. “Uh …” Xander's voice came out in an undignified squeak. He blushed and cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks, Larry.”

“I thought you weren't ready to come out yet, but congratulations man.  It's a big step!” Larry said, grinning. “You know, I know this guy who goes to school not far from here.  He's single if you want me to give you his number,” the football player suggested.

Xander blanched.  And shook his head furiously.  He was about to deny any knowledge of being out when the teacher called the class to order.

Larry smiled back at Xander, before slipping him a wink that Larry assumed to be a gesture of solidarity. Xander, however, saw it completely differently.

Xander sighed, knowing there was really no way now to convince Larry that he wasn't gay.  Turning his attention to the window, he spent the remainder of the class period ignoring the teacher droning on.

Leaving the class, Xander was cornered by two of the defensive tackles from the football team. “Stay away from Larry, Harris. You’ve already ruined Cordelia, and we don’t want our star being covered in your slime too.” To emphasise the point, they forced Xander against the lockers, hard.

Xander raised his hands in sheer self-defense and tried to force the hand at his throat away. To everyone's surprise, especially Xander's, he was easily able to force the wrist away, rotating it as Buffy had shown him. The cries of pain from his assailant also surprised, and pleased, him.

Xander recovered quickly. “Looks like someone should work out more,” he remarked before slipping into the crowd that had gathered and hurrying to his next class … math.

Xander entered his math class with a feeling of unaccustomed relief. At least Larry wasn't there with him. Walking through the doorway, he grinned at Buffy and almost bounced over. "Buffster!  You'll never guess what happened!" He said giddily.

“You almost beat up one of the Neanderthals on the football team?” She asked.  Xander stared at her in shock. She shrugged.  “It's gossip. Besides, I overheard someone talking about it as I came in.”

“Oh. Well, my balloon is now deflated.” Xander said, pouting.

Buffy smiled. “Don't worry, Xander. You can still be all manly for Cordelia and Willow. They'll be very impressed, I'm sure.”

“I'm sensing some sarcasm coming from you,” Xander remarkedas he sat down.

“Okay, class,” Mrs. Bradshaw said, interrupting the conversation between Xander and Buffy. “We're not going to have our regular warm-up problems today,” she told the class.  A few students cheered at the news.  She smiled at them. “Don't get too excited.  Instead of the warm-ups we have a little pop quiz.  Nothing to get too worried about, just a few problems to see if you've been doing your homework..”

Mrs. Bradshaw grabbed a handful of papers off her desk and began passing them out.  "Keep your eyes on your own papers.  You have twenty minutes to finish the quiz.  Good luck."

Xander looked at Buffy and rolled his eyes as he grabbed the paper passed back to him.  Turning his attention on the problems, he looked over the quiz.

‘Well,’ he thought, ‘these are easier than usual,’ as he worked his way methodically through the problems. He continued, and while writing he managed to tear the paper with his pencil. Shrugging, he flattened out the sheet and continued to the end of the final problem.

He looked over his work quickly before standing up and walking to the front of the room.  Mrs. Bradshaw looked up at him expectantly.  "Do you have a question, Xander?" She asked.

He shook his head.  "Nope.  I'm done," he replied, handing her the quiz.

“Done?” She asked in shock. “You're the first to finish … and I see you actually did do them all.” He nodded. “Well, let me look this over for you real quick.” She grabbed a red pen and began checking his work.

Xander bit his lip, hoping he had done alright.  He was pleasantly surprised when she handed it back to him and he saw only one red mark on the page.  The one at the top that said “A+”.  His jaw dropped open.

“Well done, Xander. See? I always told you if you just applied yourself, you would do well!” The teacher told him, smiling. She took the paper back and put it next to her. “Why don't you go start your homework?  It's up there on the board,” she suggested.

Xander managed to nod and stumble back to his seat. I got an A! I got an A! I got an A! I got an A!’ dominated his thoughts as he completed his homework.
 

Part 5

As the bell signalling the end of the school day sounded, Xander, Willow and Cordelia all converged on the library from differing directions. Cordelia had not even waited to change before heading to the library at a dead run. Along the way she saw Willow sprinting towards the library as well ‘Guess my news’ll have to wait,’ she thought sadly. ‘It looks like there’s an emergency.’

Willow looked up to see Cordelia running for the library too, still dressed in only her sports bra and spandex shorts from cheerleading practice. ‘Okay, to be fair, I can see what Xander sees in her … physically.’

They converged slightly before reaching the library and heard Xander’s gasps for breath coming from behind them as he took a turning into the corridor as well.

Giles stood up, and began to move towards the weapons cabinet as the Library doors burst open with resounding crashes. He looked up to see three breathless teenagers before him. “What on earth’s happened? Is Buffy all right?”

“No!” Cordelia, by far the fittest, recovered her breath first. “It’s far more important. I’ve got Slayer powers!”

“What do you mean you do? I do!” Willow squawked, offended. “I was able to type a whole essay in only thirty minutes, with footnotes and a bibliography and everything! And only took that long because the computer couldn’t keep up!”

“I can …” Xander paused to draw in more air. “I can guarantee they aren’t Slayer powers. I’m real strong now. And smart. It’s like we got exposed to that radiation stuff Spiderman did. And since I’m a male-type person, I’m guessing … not Slayer powers.”

“Wait a moment! Please,” shouted Giles. “Can I hear from you one at a time?”

In the cacophony that immediately followed, Giles drew on one of the skills he developed in his days as ‘Ripper’. He slid two fingers into his mouth and let out an ear-shattering whistle. “Good. Now that I have your attention, lets all sit comfortably. Cordelia. Would you begin?”

        *                       *                       *                       *

“So, it appears that you’ve all been granted gifts … enhancements, by these bracers. Fascinating. Truly fascinating.” Giles had heard out all of their stories, occasionally restoring order with his whistle, and had finally got all the details and facts straight.

Xander stood up excitedly, holding out his wrist.  “These make us superheroes!”

“Well, not really, Xander.  But close.  Oh this is going to be so cool!” Cordelia gushed.

“It means we can be a lot more help to Buffy on patrol now!” Willow said excitedly.

“How?”

They all turned at Buffy’s voice. “How long’ve you been there Buffy?” Giles asked in a neutral tone.

“Just walked in this minute.” Buffy smiled back. “What’s the what?”

“Well, it’s very interesting Buffy. These bracers seem to confer some kind of supernatural enhancements on Cordelia, Willow and Xander. It seems that they’re stronger and faster now.”

“And the Cliff Notes version?” Buffy asked.

“We have superpowers,” Cordelia said with a grin.

Buffy looked at him, surprise evident on her face.  “Oh,” she said.  “Well, that’s … interesting.”

“What’s wrong Buffy? You don’t look real happy about this” Willow asked, concern etching her face.

“Oh it’s so cool, Buffster!  You saw how quickly I finished the quiz?  I aced it!” Xander said proudly.

“Oh, congrats.  I wondered why you didn’t wait for me after class,” Buffy said quietly, her face showing a myriad of feelings.

“And I typed up my paper in fifteen minutes!  It was so awesome!” Willow told Buffy excitedly.  “Just think how much we’ll be able to help with slaying!”

Buffy sighed, her hands going unconsciously to her hips. “You may be fast Will, but you don’t know how to fight.”

Willow glared at Buffy.  “You don’t know that.  You’ve never let me try!” She snapped.  “I can learn. I’m a fast study!”

“So am I now Buffster!” Xander added.

“And, though I don’t like the idea of traipsing all over Sunnydale’s graveyards when I should be getting my beauty sleep, I want to try to kick some demon butt!” Cordelia put in.

“All of you! Stop!” Giles raised his voice again, attempting to regain control of the situation. “The first thing to do is to test these damn bracers. Honestly, I’m beginning to wish I’d never bought that damn box! Buffy, would you proceed on patrol after sunset. I think I’ve got a very long night ahead of me here.”

Buffy sighed again. “But I want to see what these things do.”

A glare from Giles’ made Buffy sigh.  “Fine, I’ll be patrol-girl while you all get to play here.”

“Excellent. But until then you can … play with us here,” Giles said, handing her a thick book.  He looked at the others who, taking the hint, also picked up some books and sat down at the table.  “I’ll examine the box further.”

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