Giles read the short paragraph, tucked away at the bottom of page five of what Sunnydale optimistically called a newspaper, for the third time, rubbing his finger over the print until it smudged, as if that would draw out more information. Only ink. Pursing his lips in annoyance, he pulled out his handkerchief and cleaned his finger with spit and cotton.

This being summer recess, the school air conditioning wasn’t switched on, and the library was hot, but the sparks floating dizzily in front of his eyes were down to more than the temperature. Passing the back of his hand across his clammy forehead, Giles wondered if this was doing him good by sweating out the whisky he’d drunk, oh at least two glasses too many of, the night before. Or possibly it was speeding up the dehydration process and the returning students would find his desiccated corpse in September. A strangely comforting thought, that. Reaching for the bottle of water he’d brought with him, he took a long, reluctant swig of tepid tastelessness and tried to summon up the enthusiasm to begin research.

Far too quiet, he thought. Not used to that anymore. To think it had come to this; missing the buzz beyond the doors as a thousand students milled about, missing the excited chatter inside the library even more. He was supposed to like it quiet; enjoy the peace; revel in the opportunity to catch up on paperwork. He supposed a day or two after term began he’d find himself looking back on these days with wistful yearning, but right now he was bored.

On cue, earning a grateful smile, Willow and Xander walked in, chattering in the inconsequential way they had that always made Giles feel a step behind.

“Giles!” Willow broke off a denunciation of something Giles assumed was an ice cream flavour, though why anyone would do that to a banana he couldn’t imagine, and beamed at him. “We came to see -”

“About the evil afoot,” Xander finished, dark eyebrows wiggling in what Giles assumed was an attempt to look knowing. “Hit me, G is for Giles.”

“Almost certainly, if you say that again,” Giles said obligingly, letting himself slip back into the patterns of conversation they’d built up in the last few months. “But there is something that might warrant investigating -” He pushed the paper over to them as they sat down at the table, tapping his finger on the relevant part of the page. “Tell me what you make of that.”

They read it, dark head and auburn close enough to touch, and looked up at the same time. Giles was certain Willow had finished reading it for probably the third time to Xander’s once, but said nothing. Willow’s protective instincts when it came to Xander went bone-deep.

“Bodies mauled?” Xander made the face that went with ‘eww’ and then looked puzzled. “Vamps don’t go in for that, do they? Just two holes in the neck?”

“They can feed from a number of places on the body, and I imagine a freshly turned one might be a little clumsy, but yes, this doesn’t sound typical.”

“Want I should hack into the records at the morgue and delve deeper?” Willow asked eagerly, her gaze drifting to the computer, silent and dark as it had been since school ended.

“I hate to impose when you’re on vacation,” Giles protested with a complete lack of sincerity.

Xander reached over and patted his arm. As Giles had conceded defeat to the extent of leaving off his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves, that meant that for a moment Xander’s hand was against his skin, leaving a lingering sensation as though he’d pressed down much harder. “She loves it, Giles,” Xander said. “It’s meat and drink to her, but - Willow?”

“Yes?” She sounded distracted already, fingers drumming against the desk as she waited for the computer to whir its way to life.

“No actual nibbling of the mouse, okay? That way lies problems.”

“I’ll be strictly veggie,” she assured him, her fingers beginning to patter like raindrops against the keyboard.

They watched her for a moment and then Xander took a yoyo from his pocket and began to play with it, flicking it into motion with a practiced ease. “So, if this is a major big bad, shouldn’t we get Buffy back?” he said, looking hopeful and not bothering to conceal his motives for asking.

Giles shook his head. “I think her exact words were, ‘If the world ends I still don’t want to know about it.’ She has a summer of shoe shopping planned and heaven forbid anything interferes with that.” He tried to keep the exasperation from his voice. His Slayer should be with him, training - so much they could be doing in the break from school! - but he’d seen the desperation in her eyes and he’d let her go.

“Oh.”

Xander’s transparent disappointment was either pitiful or amusing, Giles couldn’t decide which.

“Oh!” Willow said, in an echo of Xander, but with considerably more enthusiasm. “They were drained! Massive blood loss, way more than there should have been. Something drank them.”

"And we're back at vampires?" Xander asked. Giles' face must have shown his doubt because Xander added hopefully, "Very, very thirsty vampires, feeling the heat? Ooh, water!"

"My water," Giles said, grabbing for the bottle. "Get your own."

Xander pouted, which looked disturbingly good on him, although it wasn't behaviour that should be encouraged of course.

"Here." Giles fumbled in his pocket for some money. "The drinks machine in the canteen is still plugged in. Get us all a can of something cold."

Xander waited until he had the money in his hand before raking his eyes over Giles and asking sweetly, "Diet?"

Cheeky brat.

He tried sucking his belly in and then gave up. It was too hot and Xander wasn't there to notice. Besides, he wasn't in that bad a shape. Not at all.

For a man his age.

Bloody cheeky brat.