Rupert Giles is worried.
He is not sure exactly what the problem is. It could have something to do
with the weather. Yes, that is probably the case. For the past few
weeks, the heat and humidity have been combining to make sleeping a mere
memory, and food... Well, suffice it to say that any time spent away from
the whirring fan is torture, so his stomach has been neglected lately.
Unless, of course, it means opening the refrigerator or, better yet, the
freezer. Unfortunately, ice cream is not an acceptable option in this
weather. The milk just sits in his stomach and curdles. And the ice pop
stock is completely depleted, a casualty of an impromptu visit from Xander
and Anya yesterday afternoon. Now, finally, that will teach him to lock
his front door. The door. Now is a good time to lock it as long as he is
thinking about it.
So it is perfectly normal to walk over to the door, cursing the day he
discovered one Miss Buffy Summers was relocating to sunny California.
And, given this twist of fate and the various lifestyle changes that have
come about due to his associations with the more unusual Sunnydale
inhabitants, it is perfectly normal for him to realize someone was
standing on the other side of the door. But it is not perfectly normal
for the as-yet-unknown visitor to actually knock. Rupert Giles is even
more worried. He can't think of a single person he knows who would do
this, with the possible exception of Joyce Summers, a person he happens to
know for a fact is currently in Mexico (why would she go there in
July? He sighs. As long as he is not being forced to join her, it is
not his concern). A voice sounds through the door.
"Giles? Are you there?" A pause. "I just..." Another pause. "I have
The door opens. He sees a young man who is clearly not sure if he is
welcome here. Giles holds out his hand and takes the plastic bag from the
young man's hand. "Oz. Hello."
Rupert Giles is no longer worried.