Willow looked out the window, absent-mindedly snapping the CD case open and shut.  She heard the captain say that they were at cruising altitude and free to move around the cabin.  She unhooked her seatbelt and pushed herself up, peering over the back of her seat.  The flight was packed.  There was Xander in the rear of the plane, squished in between two strangers.  A few rows up, Buffy and Dawn were deep in conversation. She turned back around and looked for Tara, but couldn’t see over the seatbacks.  Plopping back down into the chair, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time that she should be pleased that there were five seats left on this flight instead of lamenting the fact that they couldn’t sit together. 

 

Well, two of the five seats were together. She had held her breath when she floated that fact out to the group, hoping Tara would volunteer to be her on-board buddy.  Dawn had offered to sit alone. However, Tara had suggested that Dawn and Buffy should sit together.  Dawn’s jutting chin had announced her outrage at the implication she needed supervision.  But then Tara had leaned in toward Dawn and in a whispery voice explained that it was for Buffy’s sake and how Dawn needed to be strong for her.  “Oh.” Dawn had said as she straightened up. “Yeah, Buffy and I should sit together.”  Willow smiled at the memory.  That gentle touch with everyone was one of the things that had drawn her to Tara. 

 

But her doubty side couldn’t help wondering if Tara hadn’t been a little too quick to suggest it.  Maybe she didn’t want to sit close to her.  So close that their hands might brush; their knees touch.  A smile played around her lips.  Maybe Tara would get sleepy, rest her head on her shoulder, all snuggly.  Willow shook her head clear.  How could she be selfishly pining for Tara when Giles was missing and probably in danger or worse?

 

“Do you need anything while I’m up?  Pillow?  Blanket?” asked a male voice.

 

Willow realized that the middle-aged man who had the seat next to her was standing with the overhead compartment open and directing the questions to her.  “Um, can you see a laptop computer bag?  That’s mine.  Thanks.” 

 

“You’re welcome.”  He handed it to her, closed the bin and walked up the aisle. 

 

Willow set her computer up on the tray table, digging around in a pocket for headphones before popping the CD in.  It was the first mixed disc that Tara had given her. So many firsts.  She planned to let it run in the background while she studied newspaper articles she had downloaded about recent unusual phenomena in the Bath area.  But as the notes started, she just stared out the window.

 

[up on the airplane/ nearer my god to thee/ i start making a deal/ inspired by gravity]

 

[if i did wrong i won't do it again/ cause i can be sweet and good and nice/ and if i had enemies they’re friends/ i'll hold to my life with the grip of a vice]

 

Just then she felt a tap on the shoulder.  The middle man was still gone.  It was the woman from the aisle seat.  She nodded toward the aisle. Tara was standing there.  Willow pulled out her earphones. 

 

“May I join you?” asked Tara with a hint of a smile.

 

“Yes! Uh, no.  See, there’s this guy sitting here.  Well, not right now - now, but it’s his seat.” 

 

Tara listened with a serious look on her face, nodding.  “Actually, he’s sitting in 11C right now.   Seems kinda happy with that aisle seat.  So that makes this the only one available.”

 

The grin on Willow’s face was so wide her cheeks hurt.  And still she couldn’t stop.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

The woman swiveled her knees out into the aisle and Tara maneuvered past, settling into the seat.  She picked up the CD case and smiled at Willow.

 

“Which song are you listening to?”

 

Willow swallowed, finding it hard to speak.  “Airplane.”

 

Tara smiled a bit wider.  “Indigo Girls.” She reached her hand out to tuck a lock of hair behind Willow’s ear.

 

“Yes,” squeaked Willow.  She wanted to ask Tara a hundred questions, starting with how much significance should she read into this seat exchange, but a tiny persistent voice of reason told her less was more.  From a pocket of the laptop bag, she pulled out a splitter and another pair of earphones and offered them to Tara.  As she reached out to accept them, their fingers brushed and Willow felt an electric thrill run through her.

 

[i never should have read my horoscope/ or the fortune on the bubble strip/ saying what you think won't happen will/ a great thing to read before a trip/ on an airplane]

 

Buffy knew she should try to get some sleep. There would be little time or inclination to rest once they got to England. But her mind was too full.  Of annoyance with Spike.  Of worry for Giles.  She stared out the airplane window and tried not to think.

 

"He's probably fine," came the voice from the seat beside her.

 

Buffy turned to look at Dawn, who was wearing her best 'honest, I'm not worried' face.

 

"I mean, all we know is that he's not where he's supposed to be, right?" she continued.

 

"It's a little more than that, Dawn," said Buffy. "He was in his house, then he wasn't. That's not just missing. That's disappearing."

 

"Well, then, that's magic, right? You know how to fight against magic. You've done it before."

 

Buffy turned back to the window. "I've fought it before when Giles was there to tell me how. Now..."

 

"But you said he left because he thought you could handle things yourself now. That is why he left, isn't it?"

 

"What do you mean?" Buffy turned back to look at Dawn.

 

"Nothing." She was staring down at her shoes.

 

Buffy reached over to stroke Dawn's hair, leaning down to look in her eyes. "He didn't leave because of you, if that's what you're thinking. He left because he didn't think I needed a Watcher anymore. Guess he was wrong for once."

 

"But you're doing okay. You're paying the bills. We still have the house. The child welfare people aren't bothering you anymore. And you've stopped demons and curses since Giles left."

 

"Minor stuff, mostly. And a lot of it was conjured by those three lame idiots. Who I still can't find. How am I supposed to find whatever took Giles? What if I can't?" The terror she felt when she first heard the news began to rise in her again. If she couldn't find him, if she failed him...

 

"Of course you'll find him. You're Buffy. That's what you do."

 

Buffy squeezed her sister's hand. "Remind me of that a few more times when we get there, O.K.?"

 

"Sure. Besides, we've got The Dream Team back together, don't we? We can't lose."

 

Buffy craned her neck to look at the others. "I hope so..."

 

Xander stretched his neck as high as he could to see over the long line of seats ahead of him, in an attempt to find Buffy, Dawn, Willow and Tara.  He could just make out the glint of Buffy’s blonde hair up by the cabin and then saw Willow reach up to take her computer case from some man up by the wings.

 

 “Oh yeah, let the man sit all by himself in the back for the 9 hour plane flight.  It’s okay.  No big deal.”  Xander muttered under his breath and popped open the small shiny bag of complimentary peanuts. He smiled apologetically at the woman sitting to his right when his elbow jabbed her in the side from jerking open the bag.  A few minutes later he was saying sorry to the elderly gentleman on his left when he crushed the man’s elbow with the armrest.  Xander moved his hips to get more comfortable, and found there was absolutely no wiggle room.  He tried to lean back, but found that the back of his seat was too close to the wall to allow for reclining.  Next he tried stretching out his legs, but a briefcase already occupied the space under the seat in front of him.  Reaching up, he pushed the “call” button again.

 

A sing-songish male voice attached to an effeminate male figure responded, “What can I help you with now sir?”

 

“Are you sure there’s no other seats on the plane?  Not even one?”

 

Condescendingly, the steward answered, “I’m sorry sir, but as I explained before we are booked solid for this flight.  Is there something I can get you to make you more comfortable?  Headphones for the movie, a pillow, a blanket, a beverage?”

 

“No, thank you,” Xander peered at the steward’s nametag, “Samuel. I’ll just sit here crunched and uncomfortable for the next 9 hours.” Xander gave Samuel an acid smile as the steward raised a brow and walked away.

 

Xander began popping peanuts into his mouth, crunching and mulling glumly. I’ve no one to talk to.  Should I be worrying about Giles?  I’m sure I should.  But I can’t stop thinking about Anya.  Why did she go to England?  Why Giles?  They were acting really strange after we lost our memories, all with the extreme avoidance.  And how come he didn’t come to the wedding?  Not even a phone call, just a bunch of flowers.  Not that they weren’t nice flowers, but...  Xander’s train of thought stopped as he drifted off to sleep, lulled by the plane’s hum, partially chewed peanuts tucked away in one cheek, head drooped onto one shoulder. 

 

*****

 

Buffy was not happy with the weather.  Not seeing the sun in the middle of the afternoon was upsetting.  It was London and it was raining.  They had left Giles’ home in Bath and were following up on a lead he had been following.  Once they had given up fighting each other, following Giles’ diary to find out who he had been involved with seemed the best idea.   Thank goodness Willow still understood Giles handwriting so well.  According to his diary Giles was looking for a nest of vampires that were responsible for a rash of violent deaths.  It seemed that they had started up just a few months ago.   Giles' diary said that he was frequenting a bar on the lower east side of the city.  That is where they were headed.  They were looking for a vampire that liked to dress up.  Buffy wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t get the image of some vampire ready to attend prom sitting in a bar. 

 

The car was quiet.  Buffy pushed the tension aside by marveling at how well Xander drove on the wrong side of the road.  He seemed to always have some hidden talent.  In every situation Xander was able to do something that no one expected him to do.  Now he could drive on the wrong side of the road like he had been doing it all of his life.  The thought that Xander wasn’t the best driver in America made her smile.  Maybe this was the reason for that. 

 

The smile faded and she thought again that no one was talking.  They had done this often enough that they didn’t have to talk.  When they got to the bar they would split up.  Xander and Anya would go left, Willow and Tara would go right and Buffy would take the center of the room.  Meet, greet, pump for information and meet outside to compare notes.  Same old drill in old London town.  Buffy found comfort in this.  They knew how to find Giles and therefore they would find Giles.  Kicking bad guy butt was second nature to group and her own personal reason for being.  The Slayer goes international.  It was weird that no one was talking.

 

She hadn't liked leaving Dawn with Olivia. She knew Giles trusted Olivia, but after seeing the painting... that painting!  Giles, alone, surrounded by demons, running for his life!  What could it mean?

 

Buffy turned to Anya.  "You're sure the painting wasn't like that before?  That it changed?"

 

Anya started at the sudden break in the silence.  "Yes. I saw it when I came to dinner the first time.  It was just Giles playing in a coffeehouse.  No demons."

 

Buffy nodded. It was a curse, then, she thought, a clue to what had happened to him.  Olivia had seemed genuinely upset at the sight of the altered watercolor, but what about those other paintings, the portraits of demons? Maybe the artist knew more than she was telling.  Still, Buffy knew she couldn't bring Dawn along to a bar, especially not a demon bar.  The questions she had for Olivia would have to wait.

 

Willow was looking out the window watching the city of London go by.  She knew their route would not take them past any of the usual landmarks.  That didn’t matter.  Tara was sitting in the car with her just the other side of Anya.   Willow wanted to talk; she wanted to be alone with Tara and talk.  That wasn’t going to happen.  Watching the river roll along as the car sped down the highway made Willow uneasy.  They would be at the nightclub soon.  It was the last place that Giles’ notes said he went.  He was looking for a particularly nasty killer and Giles was determined that the killing should stop.  He was determined to be the one to stop it.

 

One of the notebooks wouldn’t open.  They hadn’t been able to pry it open.  They hadn’t been able soak it open.  Water hadn’t had any effect at all.  They had resorted to magic, well Tara had, which only gave them the opportunity to see a title on the outside of the notebook.  They couldn't read that.   Willow still wasn’t sure if it was some long dead language or a code of some kind.  Willow had worn ink off the keyboard of her laptop looking for an answer, so far nothing.  She felt even more of a failure.  Why couldn’t she crack this?  The car was crossing a bridge. Great, running water.  That always filled a witch with confidence.

 

The car came to a halt in a parking space not far from the door of the nightclub.  It was not a trendy place.  It looked quiet and seldom used.  Willow smiled, what other kind of nightclub would Giles frequent?

 

Once inside they were surprised to find that there were demons that made up the clientele.  The surprise did not cause a ripple in their plan.  They split the room into three sections and began to work.  Xander and Willow paired together and so did Anya and Tara.  Buffy worked alone.

 

Buffy approached the largest demon in the room.  It was fortunate that it sat in her usual section.  The creature sat like a stone on a chair that shouldn’t have held its weight.  The table in front of it carried several tall empty glasses and one glass that was half full of a brown looking liquid.  The creature faced away from the populace of the bar but still seemed part of the goings on in the room.  Buffy sat in the chair across from it, allowing herself a view of the door.  “Hi.  I am looking for someone can you help me find him?  I have been told that he was a regular here.  He is tall, distinguished looking, with a British accent.”

 

Unmoved by the intrusion or the inquiry, the creature was surprised that to find it even noticed the girl.  Blinking slowly and lifting the glass for another sip it responded, “I am Osmund.”

 

Buffy smiled and said, “Well Donnie, it is nice to meet you.  Have you seen my friend?  He is one of the bookish types.  He might have talked to you about music?  I don’t like to think about it but there is the possibility that he was in here singing.”  She cast an eye over to the small stage at the far end of the room. 

 

Without being called, the waitress, made up to look like a 17th century bar maid, sat another tall glass on the table.  Buffy heard what she was sure was the sound of coins dropping on the waitress’ tray.  She was sure the creature had made no move and there was no one else near them.

 

Draining the glass of the Long Island Tea, the Osmund moved the empty glass to join its brothers.  He stopped to spend a moment of silence over the fallen soldier and then picked up the waitress’ latest offering for his next sip.  

 

Buffy knew there was something strange going on here.  She just wasn’t sure what it was.  She let her eyes move over the room.  She saw Xander move from his first interview to the second one.  Nothing in him suggested alarm or difficulty.  She saw Anya and Tara both attracting attention and handling the men well.  She saw Willow much like Xander moving to her next subject.  The Slayer turned her attention back to the demon and decided it was time she introduced herself.  “I know that I am from out of town but it is possible that you heard of me.  My name is Buffy, I am the Slayer.  I am looking for my Watcher.  What can you tell me, Osmund?”

 

The Osmund looked directly at her for the first time.  He did not speak.  Instead a third creature joined the table.  Well, he stood leaning against a wall near the table in full view of the Slayer.  “You are not the Slayer.  How can you make such a claim when you don’t even know to whom you are talking?” 

 

Buffy looked at him and dismissed him all in one motion.  He was a demon of that she was sure.  He looked like a man.  He wasn’t a vampire.  But he was a demon.  Tall, a little taller than Xander and much more slight.  Blond hair with angular features and the bluest eyes in the world.  He was almost too pretty to be a man.  The blue coat he wore brought out his eyes as if they needed that and the coat belied the casual air of the jeans and loafers he wore.   Buffy was sure she had seen that same white shirt in Dawn’s Vogue on the plane ride over. 

 

“Great Scot, you don’t even know who I am?”  At this the blond demon looked at the Osmund and said, “ I know. I know no one need know who I am but still.  She could have some clue.  My kind are not without influence.”  There was a somewhat peeved tone that accompanied the highly refined Oxford accent. 

 

Seeing it as a possible route to shutting the creature up Buffy took the bait.  “What kind are you?”

 

Letting his hand rest in the center of his chest in a gesture of indignation the blond demon answered.  “I am a Rapha.  Please do not make the mistake with me that you made with the Osmund.  My name is not Rapha.  I am a Rapha.  I am called Ward.”  He made a very grand flourish and said, “I am not at your service.  Though... I wouldn’t necessarily mind offering some assistance to one of your comrades.”  The Rapha turned a very winning smile onto Xander.

 

“I made a mistake?  He said he was Osmund.  He isn’t Osmund?” 

 

Turning back to Buffy the Rapha became impatient.  “He’s an Osmund, girlie.  If you are the Slayer surely you know what an Osmund is.  Surely you have heard of this Osmund.”  He looked at her a mixture of query and impertinent condescension.  When she didn’t respond he turned to the Osmund.  “She is not who she claims to be.  Let me kill her for offending you.  Let me kill her for offending me.  Let me kill her and take her good looking friend somewhere nice for a drink.” 

 

The Osmund was now coming to the halfway point on his drink.  The waitress crossed the floor again and gave him another.  The coins on her tray this time came from the Rapha, Ward.  Buffy used the break to look to her friends again.  Everyone was fine.  Willow was still toying with that unopened notebook of Giles’ as she spoke with a small winged demon near the stage.

 

The Osmund’s own wings moved slightly.  The movement was enough to stir the air in the entire room.  Suddenly all eyes were fixed on Buffy and… no, all eyes were fixed on the Osmund and its table.  This was new to Buffy what creature demanded greater attention than she did.

 

“My name is Ulrich.  Giles said that he had not told you about the Osmund.  I thought him a liar.” The demon's tone carried a small amount of amusement.

 

Buffy’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. Then narrowed. “He is a liar.  He told me about Ulrich, the god protector, that let a god die to save a human girl.  An immortal that abandoned his charge for humanity.  That preserved a corpse at the expense of unending life.”

 

“I am fond of your Watcher.  The first one I have known in an age and he is a credit to them.  The book you can not open is not meant for you and I want it returned to Giles.  Per our agreement the book can not be read by anyone but Giles until the day that Giles dies.  Then the book will be given to one person who will be the only person able to read the book. So it will be forever.”  With that Ulrich stood and in the blink of an eye was gone.

 

Ward was visibly shaken. He hadn't expected Ulrich to leave the bar without him.  He looked at Buffy suspiciously.  “You belong to Giles?  You are a child of the Osmund?  I have not seen Ulrich use his powers for nearly a thousand years.  He really didn’t want to talk to you."  Under his breath, "So he sticks me with it." 

 

Buffy looked at Ward and said, “He as much as told me that Giles is still alive.  Where did he go?  I am not through with him.” 

 

Somewhat recovered and seeing that this was going to take longer than his already failing interest would last, Ward lowered himself gracefully into the chair nearest to himself.  He smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes.  “Now, now don’t get your knickers in a twist little girl.  You can’t go where he went."  Seeing the objection forming on her face he continued, "Do not be tiresome."  His voice soft and encouraging, "Or I will have to resort to more... basic nature.  The Osmund will not be disturbed."  Ward moved his hand to fleck away an offending piece of lint from the sleeve of his jacket.  He lifted his eyes to Buffy's to be sure that there was no misunderstanding.  Content that she would be reasonable he continued, "He is a friend of your Giles.  That book contains the story of Ulrich’s abdication.  You think he shared that with Giles for no reason?  The two of them met and have been drinking together ever since. At least up until about month ago.  Giles started coming in and not talking to Ulrich.  Ulrich never spoke to Giles.  I thought Giles was tracking some evil beastie.  That is the one thing that Ulrich will no longer get involved with.  He doesn’t participate in the fight between good and evil.  He hasn’t for several millennia.  That is your job."  Looking rather pointed away from Buffy Ward said, "Giles had the good manners not to pollute the Osmund's life with such trivial matters."  The smile that didn't reach his eyes returned as his gaze feel upon Buffy again, "Naturally, I was right.  Giles was on the trail of a vampire.  A vampire from the States, I gathered.  I think that made Giles feel responsible for the creature somehow.  I think he knew her.”

 

Buffy eyes grew wide, “Her.”

 

*****

 

In a basement somewhere in East London, she was waiting.

“Ooooo, company's on its way!  I have to prepare for my guests. They'll expect a nice party game. We'll have sooo much fun!”

 

*****