The door barely budged. Buffy put more weight into it and it suddenly popped open, tumbling her inside.
A big, rubbery, wet green thing exploded in her face drenching her with something slimily stinky. Somebody tried to kick her in the face with a wickedly-pointed pink shoe. She grabbed the ankle of the owner of that shoe and yanked, rolled as scores of CD cases came clattering down on top of her. She bounced up, her fists and feet flying, found herself grappling with a potted plant. She toppled over again, hugging the plant, into a lap.
The owner of the lap made a muffled exclamation and stood, dumping her onto the floor again. The pink high heels rounded around before her face, and Buffy scrabbled to get her hands under her before the shoes could attack again.
"Stop it," a familiar, very-annoyed voice yelled. A Doc Martin boot kicked the pink high heels soundly in the ankle, and the high heels went squeaking away. Buffy let out a breath of relief and pushed herself out of ankle level.
"You took your time getting here, didn't you?" Giles snapped down at her.
'Uh oh, cranky mode', Buffy thought. Giles didn't seem to be in anybody's thrall; though with his black leather jacket, blue jeans, scruffed hair, he wasn't looking especially in thrall of himself either. Buffy opened her purse and took out a hand mirror to check for his reflection. mirror Giles loomed up at her and then real Giles grabbed the book from under Buffy's other arm.
Buffy sat up and stared at the pile of green water balloons sitting at his elbow. "You hit me," she accused him incredulously, wiping stinky green stuff out of her face.
"For christ's sake, Buffy, when are you going to learn to knock?" he snapped back at her.
The music boomed to an uncomfortable silence, during which Buffy's sniffles drew the stares of everyone in the booth. There were a lot of everyones here, she suddenly realized. Not to mention more than a couple of demons. Not to mention a couple of the demons she'd been chasing all night. She rose, glaring balefully at the blue one on whom she'd broken her finger on earlier. The demoness smirked gleefully and started to wave up billows of turquoise fire.
"Don't even think about it," Giles told the blue demoness.
Her sparks fluttered out, and she meekly sat down at his knees.
"Sit down," Giles said to Buffy, "and behave yourself for two minutes."
Stunned, Buffy dropped back onto the floor.
Giles glared at Buffy, then at the blue demoness, then at the rest of the people in the broadcast booth. Everyone maintained a church-like silence. He picked up the microphone. "Do I have anything left of an air audience, or have you all migrated down here like the mindless lemmings you are?" he said, looking straight at Buffy again. "Just in case, here's some lemming music to complete the job." He put a CD on the player and turned it on.
Buffy perked up at Led Zeppelin's "Going to California". "Hey, I know this one!" she exclaimed, then scowled at the blue demoness, who'd slid up the side of Giles' chair to toy with his hair. "What's going on? Stop that! You're grossing me out."
"If we keep doing it, will you go away?" The pink demoness slithered up to his other side and slipped her arms around his neck. She smirked at Buffy, and slipped her hands under Giles' shirt.
He didn't look terribly put out by them, although he was more absorbed in leafing through the book he'd taken from Buffy. "Don't touch it," he growled at the blue demoness as she moved her hand towards his lap.
She pouted. "At least tell us what's in the book?"
"Ausgehen: Addendum for the Nullification and Banishment of Demons from the Outer Fifth Realm," Giles said, and shut the book with a decisive thump.
"So, say the dumb den already!" Buffy insisted.
"How do you know we're from the Outer Fifth Realm?" the pink demoness said with a scowl. "We might be from the Inner Fifth Realm."
"Euwww," said the blue demoness.
Giles looked up at the pink demoness over the tops of his glasses. She dropped to her knees and nestled her cheek into his jeans. "Freddy's from the Inner Fifth."
The hulking demon, who until that moment had been sitting at the back with a Diet Coke in hand, started violently, then shook his fist at her. "You told! You said you'd never!"
"What?!" the blue demoness squealed. "You said you were from the Second Realm, you big fibber! Euwww! Euwww! I got Inner Fifth Realm cooties!"
"Bubbles, baby, lemmee explain!" Freddy gibbered, waving his Diet Coke can in front of him like a shield.
Bubbles began to sweat a dark blue smoke. She scooped up a handful of scattered CD cases from the floor. They ignited into blue flames as she raised her arm to fling them at him.
Freddy screamed like a girl and scrambled to put Giles between him and the incensed Bubbles.
"Stop it!" Giles grabbed a truncated baseball bat from under the desk and used it to whack the CDs out of Bubbles' hand. "I'm giving you girls two choices. You either learn some civility now, or I'm giving you all the boot."
The three demonesses sat down on the floor in unison, looking angelic. Bubbles stuck her tongue out at Buffy and wrapped her arms around Giles' legs.
Buffy started towards her, already envisioning mayhem.
"Buffy," Giles said. "That includes you."
She stared at him, her mouth open.
"These people are my guests, as long as they're behaving themselves."
Buffy pointed indignantly at Bubbles, who was now sucking on Giles' knee. "You call that behaving? She's deliberately trying to gross me out. And you're doing the gross-out thing by letting her!"
Someone slapped her hard in the back of the head, and Buffy whirled to confront this new threat -- a very annoyed looking, vaguely familiar, petite brunette. "Hey, have some respect for my Gman, lady," the young woman said sternly. "What's wrong with you anyway?"
"Hey, Lili, not everybody gets off on this kind of exhibitionism." A vaguely familiar, freckled redheaded woman came out from the back of the booth to stand next to Buffy. "Do we really have to ask not to have to witness it?"
"Too right," Buffy agreed emphatically. "Are we the only sane people here tonight?"
"Come on." The redhead put a companionable arm around Buffy's shoulders. "I'll get you a beer."
"Think I should remind your girlfriend that Copper's already taken?" Lili said as Copper steered Buffy out the door.
"Is she likely to make a move on Buffy?"
"Probably. She gets into a 'blonde' mood every now and then." Lili leaned over one of the demon groupies to get a slice of the pineapple pizza that was resting on top of the soundboard.
Giles pulled a copy of David Bowie's The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust from its sleeve and put it on the turntable. "Perhaps she'll get some practice on cluing in," he said without much hope. "And she's not my girlfriend."
"Sure acts like one." Lili wedged her chair past two of the demonessess and sat down next to him. "She's acting like a jealous b-i-t-c-h."
One of the demon groupies giggled wildy. Giles looked back suspiciously, but they all beamed angelically, sitting in identical poses, hands primly clasped in their laps. "What is so amusing?" he asked Bubbles point-blank.
"Nothing!" she assured him, gleeful guilt oozing out of every pore.
"Christ," Giles said, and picked up his book. "Oz, I know I can trust your professionalism to stay within the proper decade after Bowie finishes?"
Oz saluted and slid into the DJ's chair as Giles vacated it. The groupies stared at him, then looked at Giles. "Oh stay here!" Blossom pleaded, latching onto Giles' elbow. "It's all sweaty and mortal-y out there."
"This's the seat of power," Buttercup added, grabbing at his other arm, the one with the book cradled in it. "You shouldn't give it up."
He evaded her. "I have to use the facilities," he said.
"Me too!" Lili jumped up and latched an arm around his waist, giving the demonesses emphatic bumps away with her hips. At Giles' glare, she added, "Hey, we've been both drinking the same scotch."
"It's only fair," Oz agreed.
"I'm coming!" Bubbles exclaimed.
"Me too!" Buttercup declared.
"Me three!" Blossom jumped to her feet. "Can Xander come too?"
"Wherever Bubbles goes, Freddy goes!" the demon would- be boyfriend said.
"I'm going to the Men's room," Giles said in exasperation. "I'm not enlisting a bloody expedition. Especially not of the female gender."
"Guess that leaves Xander and Freddy, dude," Devon said. "Bummer. I'd rethink that plan if it were mine."
"The groupies belong with the DJ," Giles insisted. "Which will be Oz for the next several tracks. I shall be quite disappointed in all of you if you prove unfaithful."
"He is kinda cute," Bubbles said as she studied Oz thoughtfully. "Can you do a British accent?"
"I used to do a good 'Dead Parrot Sketch'," Oz admitted.
"Oooh," the groupies said and settled around Oz's legs. Oz looked balefully at Giles.
"I've had them for two hours now," Giles said beating back the brush fires of guilt. "I'm confident that you can cope with them for ten minutes." He hurried out the door before Oz's sad stoic-puppy expression could get to him.
Lili was on his heels like chewing gum. Giles turned to look at her. "Hey, we're just going in the same direction, compadre," she said with a sweet smile.
Giles sighed and moved out into the din of the studio office, which was taking on the look of an ungodly fusion of 'Animal House', 'Saturday Night Fever', and 'Babette's Feast', as directed by Hieronymus Bosch. Xander and Anya were currently starring as the reluctant monarchs of the mayhem. Both of them had been corrupted into wearing the now ubiquitous 'KURS of the G-MAN' t-shirts. Giles hesitated, on the verge of going back for the truncated baseball bat and setting off in search of the marauding t-shirt maker. Other concerns took precedence however. He plowed his way through the dancing masses to the hallway, where he found Willow dancing on top of a table go-go girl fashion. He blinked dizzily up at her, then shook himself and peered suspiciously about.
Lili looped an arm through his and bounced up to reach his ear. "What's up?" she yelled into it.
"It's too quiet!" Giles yelled back at her.
She craned up to probe his ear for obstructions.
He shoved her down. "I mean that everything is under control. Everybody is staying put. Buffy is minding her own business. The last five songs I've managed to play were appropriate for the show. Something must be wrong."
"Well yeah," Lili yelled, hopping from foot to foot. "I got to go, and I'll bet they're lined up at the girls' room. Com'on!" She dragged him by the arm down the stairs -- Giles had to wonder if he could be held accountable if one of the drunk dancers on the stairs took a tumble, but miraculously nobody had yet -- and off into a side corridor. As predicted, the ladies washroom was standing room only. Giles shrugged at her and pushed open the door to the men's room.
"I beg your pardon," he said, shocked as Lili trailed him in.
"I'm not going to wait on that line, when there are perfectly good empty stalls in here." She shoved him aside and ducked into one of them. "Don't wait on my account!"
He looked yearningly at the urinal. "I can wait."
"Goddess, Rupert, I can tell that you didn't grow up in a big household." He shifted uncomfortably as he heard her let go. The peer pressure became unbearable. He paused only to find a dry sink to accommodate his book before he hastened to the urinal, trying to mind control her into taking her time.
"Yuck," said Lili, and the toilet flushed. "Watch where you wave it, babe. There are spiders in here."
"What?" Giles jerked his head around to see her emerging from the stall. He hastened to put everything back to rights.
"Actually, it was kind of a pretty thing," she said. "All transparent with legs like silver needles and teeny diamond-y eyes and this glittery rainbow spot in her tummy."
He realized in mid-blush that she was talking about something else. "You're referring to th-the spider."
"Sure, what did you --" She grinned at him then. "Oh, I getcha. I'll rhapsodize for you, just let me get a look."
He fended off her hands. "That's quite all right, I wasn't asking --"
"Oh com'on!" She reached up for his head and pulled it down to hers so that they were nose to nose. "We're alone now. It's a prime snogging opportunity."
She was petite and had to bounce up on tiptoe to get her arms up around his shoulders. She smelled like raspberry ice cream. Perhaps it was the Lamphoraig still warming his blood, or perhaps he was still off-balance from the relative quiet and coolness of the lavatory, but he found himself moving in for another taste. Lili hummed happily and looped one of her legs up behind his. He put a stop to that with a firm hand on her thigh. "Please, Lili. I'm a bit old for..."
"I don't mind," she insisted. "I like older men!"
"That's all very nice, but my back has had enough for one night, thank you."
"Oh," she said with a grin. "Is it up for some horizontal activity then?"
"I-I --" Giles blinked at a glimmering spot of light that flickered before his face, over Lili's shoulder. "What the devil is that?"
Lili turned. "Spider," she declared. "A glittery spider. I told you --"
Another pinkish light sparkled off in one corner near the high lavatory windows. And several more, green-red-blue, across the ceiling. Now that Giles was looking, he could see scores more of the tiny lights. Arachnids with spun glass bodies that glowed with glittering shifting rainbow lights were stringing sugar web lines across the ceiling. They hummed like tiny tuning forks set at the highest ranges of hearing. The melody sounded oddly familiar.
They were singing along with David Bowie on the speakers outside.
"Damn," Giles said. He snatched his book out from under several of the spiders, which were dropping down towards it on razor silk threads like tiny kamikaze paratroopers, and ran for the door.
"But snogs!" Lili protested as he dragged her along. "Com'on Rupert, you're not afraid of a few itty bitty spiders?"
"No, just of the 'Spiders from Mars.'" He stopped at the door. Emberous spiders were working frantically there to bar the way with laser red strands of web. "I knew those girls were up to something dire. Don't touch that."
She'd been reaching for the door handle, which was already shrouded in spider gossamer.
Giles looked around the lavatory, then ducked into one of the stalls and emerged with a large wad of lavatory tissue. He swiped at the cobwebbed door handle and hastily dropped the wad of paper as it began to smoke.
Lili danced back as the paper burst into flame and incinerated itself. "See what you mean. Those are some funky spiders. Do you think they might have gotten into Trent's acid stash?"
"Um, no." Giles looked around for something else he could use on the door handle. "Are your shoes leather?"
"They're Adidas. Duh."
"Give me one."
"Okay, but I got to use you for balance, because I'm not sitting on this floor."
"Very well." Giles reached out to steady her and instead got her full weight wrapped around his waist. "Lili," he said after a full minute of this. "The shoe please?"
"Oh all right." She reached down and pried one off her foot and handed it to him.
Giles gingerly worked the shoe in under the door handle. The smell of scorching leather wafted up. The door resisted. The spiders from Mars had threaded thousands of tiny shimmering strands across its face. He got a better grip on the shoe and wrenched, and the door suddenly gave in with multitudes of tiny angry spider cries. He moved Lili out beneath his arm and ducked out after her as the door drifted shut.
The spiders were setting up house outside the men's room too. The party was continuing full blast, oblivious to the multitudes of spinners that were festooning the ceilings, windows and doors with phosphorescent webs.
Lili was yelling something in his ear. Giles turned to her distractedly. "Shoe?" she reiterated, pointing at his hand.
He handed her the still smoking Adidas and turned to force his way back through the crowd. It had gotten denser during his and Lili's sojourn into the men's room, which was strange, since the spiders were effectively sealing the party in.
The look on his face was apparently grim enough to bring the dancers around him somewhat to their senses. "Make way for the DJ!" a young man shouted, and the cry was promptly taken up by every one else in the vicinity. Giles suddenly had a clear pathway -- albeit one lined with drunken, groping fans -- leading up the staircase towards the second floor. He took the steps two at a time, Lili close behind him.
"Where did Buffy and Copper go?" he demanded as the hit the top of the stairs.
Lili looked up and down the hallway, biting at her lip, then pointed. "Probably down by the kegs."
'Ziggy Stardust' came to an end and time seemed to freeze while everyone waited, straining to hear what would replace it.
Stevie Nicks burst into the strains of "Nightbird", and a flock of midnight black birds swept overhead, flying just below the ceiling. Slivery outraged spider howls twinkled through the music and then shivered away as the spiders disappeared under the birds' sharp beaks.
"Good going, Oz." Giles grabbed Lili's hand, and they both started shoving their way towards the kegs.
"-- unreliable," he heard Buffy's indignant voice rising high above the party din. "You can't trust any of 'em. I mean I -- you go for years thinking you know a guy, you can rely on him to be predictable and then he suddenly starts wearing leather and everyone is fawning all over him and what's so great about putting some old records on a turntable anyway? How does that get all these bimbos slobbering all over him and who do they think they are anyway? He's my Watcher, and I don't want bimbo slobber on him. And besides, euwww!"
Copper and Buffy were sitting opposite each other inside the door frame to an office. Copper had her bare feet parked familiarily on either side of Buffy's hips. Buffy was peering mournfully down into her plastic beer cup while she rolled the Orb of Thessulah about the floor with her free hand.
"Face reality, baby," Copper said cheerfully. "He belongs to everyone listening to the air waves now. That's what happens in this racket. Groupies are a dime a dozen, and DJs are paid in dimes. And you know guys. Better get used to sharing him."
Buffy burst into tears, and the other woman leaned in to embrace her comfortingly.
"Stop it!" Giles yelled at them over the music. The two young women looked up at him. "There's something malevolent going on here. Buffy, if you'd --"
"It's Friday night, Giles," Buffy yelled up at him. "The Slayer is off-duty. They're your groupies, you put them to rights. I'm having another beer."
"I'm sorry if I seemed abrupt earlier --" he attempted.
"Hah!" she said derisively. "Admit it. You've lost control of your show, and now you need me to pull your nuts out of the fire."
Something in Giles bridled. "I have my show under as much control as it needs to be!" he yelled back at her. "It's these bloody demons who are causing the problems. If you were doing your sacred duty, instead of letting them run amok --"
"Nothing I can do. It's the 'KURS of the G-Man'!" Buffy retorted. She grabbed a hold of the door frame and pulled herself to her feet, wobbling as she went. "Where's that t- shirt guy? I want one of those shirts. Go throw a leash on your gropey groupies yourself, Giles. I've been grossed out enough for one night. Want another beer, Copper?"
"You're under age. And supposed to be on duty --" Giles started in.
"Little late to start carding everyone Mr. Responsible." Buffy pointedly looked about at the crowd, then eyed his DJ's garb up and down. "And talk about the kettle calling the pan black anyway."
"Nightbird" came to an end, and they glared at one another through the silence. Giles felt someone tugging at his arm. He turned scowling to find Willow at his side. "You'd better get back to the booth," she whispered urgently. "Oz says the groupies are getting restless."
"Midnight at the Oasis" abruptly cut in about ten seconds into the song. "Damn," Giles said. Oz must have grabbed the first thing to hand. Not a good sign. "Willow, will you please try to talk some sense if not some modicum of responsibility into Buffy? I've got to go."
Willow looked dubiously at the tipsy Buffy, who was hanging on Copper's shoulder, flirting with the guy in charge of the beer kegs. "Buffy? Sense? Me?"
"Good girl." Giles patted her on the shoulder and turned to plow his way through the now-slow dancers towards the studio.
The party was finally beginning to wind down. The introduction of a slow song had prompted all the dancers to semi-collapse against one another. They moved out of his way sluggishly. The camel that had appeared in the hallway just outside the studio doors didn't help his progress any. Giles shoved at the beast ineffectually, until it bellowed and turned its mangy head to take a nip at his arm. Rather than risk his leather jacket again, he took his life in his hands and ducked under its belly and into the studio office.
Silken tent-like draperies spanned the office ceiling. The scents of cinnabar and sandalwood made him sneeze. Ankle-deep white sand spilled into his Doc Martins.
"Giles!" Xander said urgently from on top of his desk refuge. "Are we glad you're back!" He was clad in a flowing sheikh's garb, Anya in a harem girl's outfit. "The groupies are running amok! And Blossom found your Scotch! They were looking for Britney Spears' cds! You've got to do something!"
"Damn right, I will," Giles said. He turned towards the broadcast booth, steeled himself for the worst, then kicked the door open.