Tabula Rasa

Once finished being horrified at the realization that he was English, Randy took a step towards Giles, looking him up and down.

"You don't suppose you and I... we're not related, are we?

"There is a ruggedly handsome resemblance," Anya provided, causing Giles to smile at her, in earnest.

To Randy he said, "And you do inspire a, um... particular feeling of... familiarity and… disappointment?"

A scowl on his face, Randy took another step, and another look, but said nothing.

"Older brother?" Giles suggested, then.

Randy shook his head, scoffing. "Father. Oh, god, how I must hate you."

Outraged, Giles blustered, "What did I do?"

"There's always something, and what's with the trollop?" he indicated Anya, then stared right past her, suddenly distracted.

He could fight with the old man any time he wanted but, right now, the petite blonde was drawing all his attention.

Giving her what he hoped was a seductive smirk, the vampire ignored his dad's bit on the side, side-stepping the both of them, and making his approach on Joan.

"You don't suppose you and I…" he began again.

Joan gave him a look that he couldn't quite interpret but, undeterred, he barreled on with the rest of his question. "We're not a couple, are we?"

"Obviously we're a couple," she told him, hands on hips. How could he be so dumb to even question it?

"There is a deep sense of sexual tension and chemistry between both of you," Anya affirmed, cheerily, all insult clearly forgotten in favor of matchmaking.


By the time the spell ended, Buffy could no longer deny her primal connection with Spike, straddling his waist as she had been, when she came to.

She'd spent the most of the evening trying to convince Giles just how great of a daughter-in-law she could be.