"What's wrong?" Willow said as the restroom door clunked shut. "The worst case scenario is wrong, right? Your mom and Giles are here with other dates. So we can relax. Detective Stein seems to be an all right guy. He invited us in for stuff to eat."
"You ever heard of a baited trap?" Buffy hissed. "The hunter puts a big hunk of greasy meat -- or a taquito -- smack on the middle of the old jaws of death. Are you trying to lose a foot?"
Willow stared at her, opened her mouth, then shut it again.
"And Giles! And that woman! What's up with that? She's the school ho, Willow. Everybody knows it! Trust Giles to be the only guy who doesn't know. Well I'm going to clue him in."
"Uh," Willow said.
"What?!" Buffy shook her.
"I -- uh -- he knows. That she's already dated most of the male-type teachers at the school, I mean. I tried to warn him a couple of months ago. He seemed really annoyed that I'd assume that he didn't know. I wouldn't pursue the argument, Buffy. He's been awfully cranky lately."
"Why were you warning him about her several months ago?" Buffy persisted in alarm.
"Ow, Buffy, watch it! I don't know. It was that night there was a film crew in the library. Giles and Ms. Marble seemed to be kind of -- bonding. We figured it was just the situation. You know, hormones from the stress and excitement of coping with outrageous odds?"
"'Outrageous odds?'"
"Hey, you've tangled with Rory Vitali, okay? That guy you tried to stake and you ended up with french fries in your hair instead?"
Buffy made a face, then focused on the earlier words. "'We'? Xander's been keeping this from me all this time too?"
"Stop it," Willow yelled at her and pried the Slayer's fingers off her arms. "All right now! Take some deep breaths, Buff. Breathe! Focus on your breathing and pretend you're a tree. Pretend you're so grounded that you've got roots."
Buffy stopped hyperventilating long enough to think. "How am I supposed to breathe if I'm a tree?"
"What?" Willow said. "B-but trees breathe. Carbon dioxide!"
"They absorb carbon dioxide, Willow. I took a landscaping course last semester. I remember that much. This is a stupid stress exercise."
Tears welled up in Willow's eyes. "It's the same exercise my mother gives people! Nobody tells her it's stupid!"
"No, Willow!" Buffy threw her arms around her weeping friend. They sank to the floor together. "It's not you that's stupid!"
"Yes!" Willow wept. "My mom's been using that exercise for years, nobody has ever told her it was stupid. It must be that I said it stupidly."
"Hello! You girls need help?" Debi Marble peeked in through the door. "Willow?" She came in and knelt next to them. "What's wrong, honey? Do you need some Midol?"
"No," said Buffy. "We're fine, okay?"
Willow muttered something wetly into Buffy's sleeve.
Buffy eased her grip on the other girl and held her out at arm's length. "Willow?"
"I'd like a Midol, please," Willow snuffled.
Debi got up to set her margarita on the sink and then fumbled through her lavender clutch purse. "Boy I ought to buy this stuff by the gross. Lucky thing the school nurse has a standing order." She passed the tablets down to Willow.
"Thanks." Willow put the pills in her mouth and got to her feet to get a drink of water from the faucet.
"Will, I'm sorry I said your exercise was stupid," Buffy said contritely.
"S'okay," Willow snuffled. She took a proffered Kleenex from Debi and blew her nose.
"Okay?" Debi scrutinized her. "Your eyes are red. You want some Visine?"
"What, you've got a pharmacy in there?" Buffy peered suspiciously at the purse.
"No." Debi handed Willow a bottle of eye drops. "Just the dating essentials."
Willow giggled in a hiccupy sort of way. "I never thought of packing Visine." She stared in dismay at her disheveled reflection in the mirror.
"Give it ten years," Debi advised. She pulled a hair brush from her purse and started neatening Willow's hair. "Every dating disaster adds a new item to the list. And geez, I've had more than my share of disasters. This cut is so cute. Much better than the way you were wearing it last year."
"Going to add Giles to that list of disasters now?" Buffy said shrilly, her arms tightly folded over her chest.
"Nah." Debi bit her lip as she worked out a snarl in Willow's hair. "I think my taste in men is finally beginning to mature. Thank god. 'Course anybody would be a step up from Benny the truck stop cashier. From now on I only date guys who at least change their socks daily. Besides, Rupert seems kind of sweet, and call it a girl's intuition but I'm guessing that if I scratch the surface there's a wild and crazy guy in there waiting to get out."
"Giles? Hah! Tweed to the core!" Buffy persisted.
Willow rolled her eyes, and smirked at the secretary in the mirror. "Buffy's lived a sheltered life in some ways."
"S'okay." Debi smoothed Willow's hair with a pat and moved around her to work on her own blond locks with the brush. "Think I don't know catty when I hear it?" She pulled one of her hairs forward and peered intently at it. "Damn split ends."
"I am not being catty." Buffy stepped to the mirror and peered unhappily at her reflection.
"I know you and Rupert are friends. If you're planning on moving in on that territory come June, better be warned that I'm gonna put my head start to good use here."
"What!" Buffy looked aghast. "I never --"
Debi smiled at her beatifically. "Then no big deal, right? We can be buds. You need anything else, Willow?"
"I'm okay!" Willow said. "We'll be right out."
Debi handed Buffy the brush and breezed out.
"Buds -- like when pigs fly," Buffy fumed. "Did you see how she's twisting everything around like that? Uri Geller has nothing on her."
"I like her," Willow said. "She's nice. Com'on, Buffy, give her a break. Giles likes her. Can't you pretend to like her a little?"
"She locked me in the utility closet with Snyder! For an hour! What kind of break do you want me to cut her for that? And she's not Giles' type. Why is he dating her?" She whimpered and covered her head with her arms. "I'm so confused."
"There, there," Willow said. She took the brush from her friend's hand, pushed Buffy's arms down, and started in on her hair. "You're just hungry, that's it."
Buffy slumped forward under Willow's ministrations. "Why is my life so complicated, Willow? My boyfriend has an acute case of 'wandering soul', my Mom's either suffering from denial or she's wigging me out, and both my Watchers are in the clutches of hos. I'm the Slayer! Everything is supposed to be black and white for me. I see an evil supernatural dude, I stake him. This is not supposed to be a brain-busting gig here."
"Well," Willow said. "You've got people in your life. That's bound to complicate things. Look at me: My boyfriend's got a case of wandering species, my Mom tried to burn me at the stake, and I still get racy dreams about my best friend. Oh, and my first pet ever -- other than my fish I mean -- was once a girl named Amy."
"You're still having dreams like that about Xander? But what -- Oh, never mind! I don't want to know!" Buffy pulled herself together and blasted back out the doorway.
Willow sighed and followed her out.
Xander was at the table in her place, polishing off her plate of taquitos.
"Hey!" Willow exclaimed. He looked up at her in surprise. "Wi -- oh," he said through a mouthful of taquito. "Wha-s up?"
"Breathe. Roots," Willow said. She smiled at Xander.
Buffy had pulled a chair up to the table and situated herself at the corner in between Debi and Joyce, so Willow took Buffy's abandoned seat next to Xander.
Giles had another margarita in front of him -- his third judging by the two empty glasses at his elbow. Either he was matching drinks with his date or she with him; in any case he seemed a good deal more at ease. Willow didn't know quite what to make of that small bit of roguish grin that flitted briefly across his mouth when Debi leaned in to whisper something in his ear, but she was duly torn up with curiosity.
"Here," Debi leaned over to set a bottle in front of her.
Willow stared at it. "What's this?"
Debi looked over at Detective Stein. "Root beer!" she said loudly. Then confided to Willow. "Mexican 'root' beer. Three point two. I got it for you. Nothin' better for the monthlies believe me."
"Ms. Marble . . ." Joyce said admonishingly.
"It's medicinal!" Debi defended herself. "'Sides, when I was 18 it was legal. Only reason they changed it is because all these teenage boys got drunk and made idiots of themselves like -- like teenage boys. Had nothing to do with us girls."
Giles rolled his eyes.
"And going by my experience -- and we adults are supposed to 'bring the wisdom of their past to the youth of today' -- Willow's legal for 3.2." Debi settled back in her seat with a decisive nod. "January 23, 1981."
"My birthday," Willow agreed, and uncapped the bottle.
"Can I taste?" Xander reached for the bottle, but Debi soundly slapped his hand.
"April 1, 1981," she said. "You got a couple of weeks to go yet, mister."
"Hey!" Buffy said. "You told me you were born on March 30, Xander."
"Gee, thanks for spreading that bit of my student record around," Xander said to Debi. "Aren't they supposed to be confidential?"
"You signed a release form last month, remember? So we could give the info to any colleges you applied to." Debi was propping up a nacho chip picket fence in the bowl of salsa. After a moment of watching her, Xander stretched to add a nacho fort house to the fence.
"So why did you lie to me about your birthday?" Buffy persisted.
"Xander used to get twice the usual tricks played on him on April Fool's Day," Willow said. She tasted the beer and screwed up her face.
"People always think that just because I was born on April First, I'm some kind of joker," Xander griped even as he focused on roofing his fort. He looked up with a grin of triumph and discovered that everyone was staring at him. "Well hey, can't a guy have a reputation that stands on its own?"
"So," Buffy said to Debi. "You've got access to all the student and faculty records."
"As high school secretary -- yep, that's one of the things that I do," Debi agreed as ran her finger around the rim of her margarita glass.
"So you'd probably know the answers to two burning questions. Numero uno: What's Giles' birthday?"
"I know that one, yep," Debi agreed.
Giles frowned at her. "Debi --"
"Don't worry. I've got plans for that night that don't include surprise birthday parties." Debi sucked the salt from her finger.
Willow blushed and took a long drink of beer.
"All right then," Buffy snapped. She leaned forward to glare at the secretary. "Then you'd better tell me this one. What's Principal Snyder's first name?"
Debi took her finger out of her mouth. "Bitched if I know!"
"Oh really!"
"No, really!" the secretary insisted. "In his file, where it says 'First Name'? It just has an initial."
"Well?"
"'P'. I asked him once if it stood for Percival -- I mean can you imagine our Herr Snyder as a Peter? He gave me one of those looks and said that as far as I was concerned it stood for Principal."
Willow hiccuped. "Poor Snyder," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "His parents only gave him one letter for a first name." She hiccuped again.
"Oh come on," Buffy said. "He's just being his usual rat-like self, refusing to 'fess up to a really embarrassing first name. You don't see Giles running around insisting that everyone call him 'R', do you?"
"We all help him out on that one," Xander agreed. "And call him 'Giles'. I even tried to go one further and call him 'G-Man' --"
Giles leaned forward in his chair and smashed Xander's fort with the end of a spoon.
"-- but he didn't want that much help," Xander said hastily. "Can we just sort of pretend that it's April?"
"Actually," Joyce said thoughtfully as she sipped at a glass of sangria, "that might explain a lot. That a child with only a letter for a first name would turn out to be a horrid rodent-man as an adult. All the parenting manuals I ever read agreed on one thing -- it's best to give your children names."
"It's true," Detective Stein nodded. "Most of the worst criminals I've encountered went by nicknames. Either they had no names as children, or they were emotionally crippled with bad names."
Xander looked at him worriedly. "Any statistics on people with pathetic middle names?"
"Losers. All of 'em," Stein replied. "But not as dementedly dysfunctional as those with bad first names.
"Hey!" Buffy said. "Aren't you going overboard with the sucky-name analysis theory thingie? Giles is not dysfunctional -- well okay, he mostly got over it."
"-- and Buffy's doing pretty darn good too!" Willow chimed in.
Joyce looked perplexed. "What's wrong with 'Buffy'? That's a perfectly nice name."
Detective Stein sighed and shook his head.
Buffy hid her face in her hands. "Mom --"
"Oh come on," Joyce insisted. "I had at least two friends in college who went by that name."
"Voluntarily?" Xander marveled.
"I had a friend who changed her name to Buffy," Debi volunteered. "Course that was her screen name --"
Joyce looked interested. "What films was she in? Maybe I've seen her in something."
"Well, they were specialized films -- Ouch, Rupert! Stop kicking me! Don't tease while we're in company." She pulled her chair slightly away from Giles'. "Do you need another margarita?"
"No, but you do." Giles indicated her empty glass. "Shall we go see what's keeping the waitress?"
"The service here is usually so good," Joyce remarked.
"We'll be back." Debi set her purse on her seat. "Look after that for me, Buffy?"
"They're sure spending a lot of time sneaking off together," Buffy said suspiciously. She rose, but Joyce grabbed her wrist.
"Sit down, Buffy. She asked you to watch her purse."
Buffy dropped back into her seat with a scowl. She glanced at her Stein, then leaned past Joyce towards Willow and Xander. "I don't trust Ms. Marble," she whispered fiercely. "I think she's a monster or something."
"No. Dating monsters is my patent pending gig," Xander said as he munched on the remainders of his fort. "Why are you so down on her?"
"She and Giles have nothing in common, yet suddenly he's sneaking off into corners with her. How suspicious is that?"
"Let's see," Xander said. "She's tall, blond, babesome, with nice big -- um eyes. She's not a prude. And she plays with her food. Gee, Buffy, you're right. She must be evil." '
Buffy scowled at him, then shot another surreptitious look at Detective Stein, who was now pondering the menu, before reaching over to nudge Debi's purse open.
"Buffy," her mother admonished.
"I'm looking out for the welfare of my friends," Buffy said in a low voice. "I could have saved all of us some grief if I'd been able to snoop around a bit in Ted's briefcase."
Joyce sighed and stared pointedly off into space.
Xander got up and wandered over to Debi's side of the table for the salsa verde, pausing to watch as Buffy pulled out wads of Kleenex, several bottles of pills, a paperback novel -- "'The Englishman's Torment'?" she muttered --, a Polaroid of a parrot in a beret, one bangly earring, lipsticks, a wallet fat with expired coupons, a nail file, a tube of cherry flavored toothpaste, a box of tampons, a roll of duct tape, a bristling key ring with a small canister of pepper spray attached, a package of petunia seeds, a black address book, a check book with a cute cartoon mouse on the cover, scratched Ray-Ban sunglasses, a tube of sun screen, breath mints, a cell phone, a Swiss army knife, a stale square of chocolate, a small sewing kit, a deck of playing cards, and a gaily marked package labeled 'Lucky Leprechaun's Condoms: All the Colours of the Rainbow!'"
"Euww!" Buffy dropped the condoms back into the purse.
Xander smirked. "Serves you right for snooping." He looked at the clutch purse and then at the ex-contents of the purse that were now spread on top of the chair seat. "Maybe she is supernatural. How are you going to get all that back in there?"
Buffy picked around the pile, then held up the knife, the paperback, and the duct tape. "This doesn't look suspicious to you?" she demanded.
Willow's eyes grew wide. "Oh no!" she said. And hiccuped. "Poor Giles!"
Buffy shoved her chair out from the table. "I'm going to go keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't do anything to Giles," she whispered to them.
"Buffy?" Joyce said. "What are you doing?"
Buffy smiled placatingly at her mom. "I'm going to help Giles and Ms. Marble. Xander's going to watch the purse." She bent to Xander and whispered. "Keep your eye on Detective Stein."
"Okay," Xander said. "But I'm not going through his wallet."