Giles sees the five bullies, hoods up, skulking at the end of the corridor, lockers hemming him in on both sides. Willow’s words about a fresh start echo in his mind. He’s still not convinced.*

Déjà vu, Willow. I’ve been here before… but not as me. As someone else. You say “Giles, here you can hide in plain sight.” But how does one imitate oneself? Who else can one be?

He looks straight into the leader’s eyes — and freezes. Beneath the hood, a face half‑lost in shadow, a purple glow pulsing under the skin, running like rivers through the veins and pooling behind the glasses.

And then Giles realises he’s looking at himself.

He hears the demon’s slithering voice.

Mother?

Another voice calls his name. He yelps and turns.

He’s standing in the same spot — but the bullies are gone. The corridor is bright again, students and teachers bustling past. Roux stands beside him, hand half‑raised, concern on her face. She only touched his arm.

She asks if he’s okay. Giles forces a smile, stammering slightly, still shaken. Roux asks if he has a plan, and they both notice that infernal dog barking somewhere unseen.

Giles straightens, suddenly brisk. Their partnership is temporary, he insists.

“We need to locate the source of the brain drain. My brief observation tells me the cafeteria is ground zero, but I didn’t see a breach. Hence, the signal must be transmitted through the walls. We must find its origin.”

Before they can resume their sniping, the ground shudders beneath them. Giles stiffens as the whole building trembles — then stops abruptly. Roux tells him the place shakes on occasion.

They agree to split up and meet in the library afterwards.

As she walks away, Roux calls back, “We make a great team.”

“Indeed,” Giles replies. “Like a hot coffee and ice.”*

His thoughts spiral as he heads down the hall.

Mission: find the brain drain, locate missing teachers and Truman… kiss Roux.

Steady, young man. She’s a vampire. A monster. She’ll do more than drain you. She’ll break your… actually, I quite like iced coffee.

He passes the janitor’s closet, hearing something inside, but dismisses it. He’s one step away when the door yanks open and he’s pulled inside with a startled yelp.

Lloyd Addison drags him onto a table and stares at him in disbelief. He looks slightly more coherent than earlier.

“Rupert Giles?” Addison blurts. “After all these years. That’s some get‑up, Benjamin Button. Look at you. You’re a boy!”

Giles mutters something about not being that little, but Addison barrels on, demanding to know what youth serum he’s using. Giles waves the subject away.

“You don’t want what I’ve got. Never mind that. How’d you fall into this teaching gig? At university you were on track to be an MI6 Science Officer.”

Addison sighs — clearly a story he’s told before. He insists he has no regrets. Teaching gives him purpose. But he knows how washed‑up he must look.

“Addy, you’re a sight for sore eyes. I’m happy to see you. Now, what’s the play here? What ails this place?”

“I don’t know,” Addison admits. “It was a solid gig. Kids learning. Supportive staff. Then… it just went off. After the rains.”*

He explains: three months ago, torrential rains. Then a sinkhole opened behind the school, under the triple pass. The school — or factory — was built on a landfill. The ground is unstable.

Giles nods. That explains the shaking.

“Rattle and roll,” Addy says. “Background noise now. But that sinkhole… after it showed up… the vibe changed. Something unholy was released.” He hesitates. Fear flickers in his eyes. “And Giles… it smelled like peaches.”

“Peaches?”

“All day, mate. And I hate peaches. My Nanny forced leftover fruit cobblers on us every Boxing Day.”

“Unholy?” Giles’s mind races ahead of him.

“Yes. Inhuman. Lurking. Then a fog descended. Not all at once. Like my brain was being drained.”

Everyone is affected, he says. Teachers disappearing. Kids acting like zombies — or worse. “They’re aggressive. Angry. Frustrated. While the government chases magical people, Principal Boake’s a scandal, all hemmed up with corporate underwriters. How else can they communicate except to ban something? This place is one big SOS. Something’s rotten here in Compton.”

Giles insists he’s not a wizard or magical, but he’ll try to help.

Addison snaps a selfie with him. He checks the photo — doesn’t show Giles. In the image, Addy’s eyes glow purple.

As Giles leaves, Addison offers him a peach from nowhere.*

Half an hour later, Giles stands before the library door, staring at the sign: CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

“A locked library? Giles, you most certainly aren’t in Sunnydale anymore.”

Roux leans against the lockers opposite. She asks where Sunnydale is and whether she can visit.

“You wouldn’t like it,” Giles says with a smile. “It’s full of monsters. And monster hunters.”

“I’m good at hunting. And from the looks of it, you could use the help. Think about it. Follow me, Sherlock. I know another way in.”

A few minutes later, Giles is falling — the library floor slamming into his posterior as Roux shoves him through a closed window, glass exploding everywhere. On his knees, he doesn’t even look at Roux landing in a full superhero pose, clearly showing off.

“This is a crime scene,” he breathes, reverent. The library is empty.

“Yes. Principal Boake’s crew emptied it six months ago.” Roux shrugs. “Everything went digital.”

Giles is appalled.

Roux turns to him with a grin. “Ever go steady?”

He blushes. “I’m older than I look.”

Now it’s Roux’s turn to be unimpressed. “I’m over two hundred.”

Giles stares, stunned, mouth opening to ask a dozen questions — but a bark echoes from the darkness. He looks up to see a vicious dog, foam dripping from its jaws, glaring at them.

It barks again — low, threatening.

Then, with startling speed, it lunges.

Roux throws her hands up. Giles emits an embarrassingly high‑pitched squeak. But the dog doesn’t attack — it bounds straight past them, leaping through the shattered window and disappearing into the campus.

Roux and Giles slump back against the nearest wall. Giles’s breathing is louder than he’d like.

He doesn’t move. He stares ahead, mind racing. “Processing,” he mutters. “Mental footnote: no books, one dog, one two‑hundred‑year‑old vampire.”

“Give or take,” Roux smirks.

“How about a date?” he says, grinning.

Roux smiles. “I want a corsage.”

Giles nods. That would be fine.

In her office, Principal Boake fusses over paperwork. A knock at the door interrupts her. When she asks who’s there, the answer comes back:

“Your conscience.”

She laughs, making a joke about losing that years ago — and then the lights go out.

A quick scuffle in the dark later, and Principal Boake finds herself upside down, taped securely and staring at a rather irate Giles and Roux. She opens her eyes and grins at the teenagers.

“Hate to burst your bubble, but this is not the first time I’ve been strapped to a chair and held upside down while being questioned.” She declares herself an open book.

Giles smiles thinly. “Why did you se;; this school to the Webb brothers?” he asks, finally ready to get answers about the building.

Boake is blunt. She didn’t sell the school out — she bought in. “Charter schools are money pits. They needed a school to sponsor and test their curriculum. We needed the dough. No money, no school‑y. Then it all went south. Ed Crowe, boozer that he is, up and vanished clutching his brass flask. He was a charmer. So Miss Wong must’ve got caught up, then brought the cops into it. I’m the one under siege.”

Giles sighs. “What’s the endgame here?”

“We all benefit,” Boake says. “These kids get to be part of the future. I get the credit, and the Webb brothers get a medal. Edu‑capitalism with a heart. I retire in Kokomo and disappear like a slow hot wind!”

Roux steps forward, sarcasm dripping. “Some principal. Your students are getting dumber by the moment.”

“Take it up with the F.C.C. Now take me down or pull out a feather.”

“How about I take a bite?”

“Left side, please,” Boake retorts. “If you find proof of life, CC me. I’m bloodless. A shell! Hah!”

Having gotten nothing useful, Roux and Giles now sit on the roof of the school, side by side, staring into the night sky. Giles exhales in frustration.

“Her baleful act is Oscar‑worthy. But she’s all in. Completely complicit.”

“A clueless tool,” Roux says. “Faking it is the new black. Look, dude, the corsage is cool, but you gotta learn how to separate personal time and work.”

“Agreed. It’s been a while. I figured an icebreaker would help. Sorry.” Giles looks away.

After a moment, he turns back to her, gulps, breathes out, and speaks carefully.

“Roux, why are you here? Blue doesn’t even know you watch her.”

Roux hesitates. “Maybe. But she needs watching. So I do it. Besides, there’s not many places for a black girl like me to be.”

“How long have you been…”

Roux cuts him off. “It’s getting late. I gotta go grocery shopping. Meet us mañana after lunch in the Quad.”

“Groceries?” Giles echoes as she walks away.

The next day, as school begins, Giles’s thoughts race.

My focus has been too narrow. I can’t see what’s in front of me. I’m scanning the field and missing the view. Our first date was an interrogation? How daft can I be? C’mon, Giles. Get it together. Clear your head.

Steer clear. You’re all wrong for her. Am I? We do make nice partners. Complementary skills. And at two hundred years plus, she’s the cougar in this love equation.

Yet look at her. So young. Dead on her feet. Locked in a springtime that will never bloom. This can’t end well.

Gah! I hate having a fifty‑year‑old’s mind… Focus on the case. Young love be damned. Restore this school’s equilibrium.

Systematic observation points to the sinkhole as the instigating x‑factor. Find a fire’s origin, investigate its cause, and you’ll find the fire‑starter.

Across campus, Roux watches him from a distance, thinking her own thoughts.

Some monster hunter. Doesn’t he know I can feel when he’s near? Am I nuts to think we could have something? He did bring me a corsage. Last date who forgot didn’t see sunrise. Still… Rupert Giles…

He’s an odd guy. Walks between worlds. Straddling. I’ll let him dangle. Play hard to get. Still… Roux… Giles.*

On the outskirts of campus, a sinkhole cordoned off with police tape catches Giles’s attention. He’s aware that he may not come back up, but he doesn’t hesitate, lowering himself into the hole and hoping for the best. Unfortunately, he slips and falls straight down, inexplicably plunging through floorboards at the bottom.

He finds himself in a cavern, rubble scattered all around. He gets up, dusts himself off, and looks around. In the distance, he hears what sounds like barking.

“Penned in. Freaky, but okay. Onward. Er… I mean, downward, man.”

Then the demon appears before him, greeting him in a low, growling voice. It seems to be standing behind what appears to be little more than a literal ball of goo, glowing with incandescent light.

Hello, Mother. You found me. One’s been expecting you.

“Mother? Do I know you?”

Know me? He-he. Giles, you made me. That makes you my mommy. You see, we fought long ago.

“But you were someone else then.” Giles whispers a spell under his breath as the horned demon draws closer. The creature is delighted that Giles remembers it, cackling with eerie cheerfulness.

Giles thinks back. He remembers facing a creature – the same demon – but red in colour. He remembers the beast had a taste for…

Peaches, the demon supplies.

“That was you?”

Was. Now, One is Seed. The peaches addiction remains intact.

Giles looks at him, confused. “But I killed you. Not sorry. Years ago. Yet here you are. Today?”

Today’s life exists because of Mommy’s last kiss. A drop of blood from their previous encounter, spilled by Giles quite by accident. Created by him, unintentionally.

The demon tells Giles that he has no idea who he even is. Even after being resurrected and recalled, the voices in your head still debate your fate. Thank God One did not inherit that trait.*

Giles is curious now, recalling that last time the demon had preferred banks over schools. It laughs loudly.

A mind is a terrible thing to waste. Except if it pays dividends.

“You’re selling intelligence?”

Why sell intelligence when One can make a fortune peddling ignorance? The demon shrugs, unconcerned. Besides, who really cares what it’s doing?

Then it looks down into a puddle of goo. An image of Roux appears at its centre.

She watches, the demon scoffs. Very old indeed. Got a real hunger for blood. Ask Truman.

The image shifts – now showing Roux and Truman in the basement the other night. Seed tells Giles she’ll do nothing but hurt him in the end.

Giles tries to change the subject, but Seed has noticed the way he stares into the puddle.

Cue the sad music, Seed taunts. You like her. Mommy, you’ll have to bleed out to satisfy her thirst. But don’t worry—she’ll die like the abomination she is.

Giles shakes his head. “I don’t know, Seed. We’re rookies in her world. The smart money’s on her. Speaking of which – someone paid you for this monstrosity.” He gestures toward the globe siphoning intelligence from the school.

One told you, Seed spits. It’s a prototype. Got the patent, found sponsors. This is proof of concept. Shabby, but it works. Now One goes global!

Giles turns his back on him. “You rose from the dead to make a machine that makes people dumber? How droll. Why not just watch the news?”

Seed roars, his voice swelling with fury. This is his masterpiece. He has no concern for the children afterward, or the ruins he’ll leave behind.

The next revolution in evolution will recreate man in his own image – all hollowed out, while a dark, ruby-red sky needles the light from their eyes. Tentacles slide from his slimy skin as he cackles. Oh, Mother… the future can’t get here fast enough. I give you—the Dumb Bomb!

He activates the globe. It whines, clanks, sputters – and stops.

Giles sniggers. “Got kinks?”

Seed is unimpressed. A tentacle lashes out, wrapping around Giles’s waist and yanking him closer.*

Watch it, Mama. I grew while you downsized!

Giles grins. “Yeah, but now I come fully loaded.” Energy bursts from his hands as he chants, “Suspension!”

Both of them rise into the air, frozen mid-float.

What gives, Mom? One is stuck, Seed complains.

“Temporarily,” Giles assures him, drifting toward the globe. He rearranges parts, then literally pulls out a wrench. Seed orders him to stop, but Giles tosses the wrench inside the machine. The demon roars.

Giles gulps. Time to go.

Too late.

A tentacle snaps around his neck and chest, dragging him close. Seed’s teeth gnash, eyes flaring. Giles realises he’s pushed his luck too far and braces for death when a loud growl fills the cavern.

“Let him go. I got dibs – killing dibs – on him!”

Roux.

Seed barely glances at her. You’re popular, he shouts at Giles.

He flings Giles to the ground and turns to face the vampire. Roux pounces, racing behind him and sinking her fangs into his shoulder – but whatever she draws isn’t blood. She spits it out, hissing as if it burns.

She staggers back just as Seed grabs a stake and sets it alight. He swings the flaming weapon, forcing Roux to retreat – but she’s not quite fast enough.

Seed calls out to Giles, eager to savour the moment, but the teenager just stands there.

“Hey,” Giles says. “You got any cream for your peaches?”

Seed snarls, more offended by the insult to his fruit than anything else, and charges. At the last second, Giles hurls the peach into the wall of fire spreading through the cavern.

“Go fetch.”

Seed lunges after it – straight into the flames.

Giles helps Roux to her feet. “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.”

She looks at him.

Then she punches him unconscious.*

Giles comes to some time later, wrapped tightly and unable to move. Roux sits nearby.

“Down there, Seed mentioned the missing boy. Truman,” Giles says carefully. “What was he to you?”

She doesn’t look at him. Doesn’t even lower her hood. “A boy who asked too many questions I couldn’t explain.”

“And is that why I’m tied up?”

“Maybe. Probably.”

“I see.”

“I gotta make sure you’re still… well. That your nature toward me hasn’t been co-opted.”

“Right. Well – could you stand me up?”

“Sure. I want you comfortable.”

She hauls him upright, still bound, unable to walk. She ruffles his hair with a grin.

“Thank you, Madam, for removing the bushes,” Giles smiles.

“No problem.” She hesitates, then adds, “Sorry. This is where things get tricky. I overcompensate to avoid misunderstandings.”

“I think that’s smart.”

“So… if you want to know something about me, you can just ask.” She’ll only take him to her place if he promises to be cool.

“As a cucumber,” Giles says. “Chilled. And on ice.”

“Okay,” Roux smiles. “I’ll carry you.”

Giles stiffens, then relaxes. “Unexpected, but reasonable if untying me isn’t an option.”

She lifts him effortlessly into a fireman’s carry and slings him over her shoulder. Dogs sniff through the cavern ruins below. Giles glances down at them and whispers, “This is exactly as uncomfortable as it looks.”

“I don’t live far,” she assures him.

That helps. Still, as they walk, Giles has one more question.

“Who let the dogs out?”*