Disclaimer: I own nothing. All Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters and DC Comics characters are the property of their original owners.
Inside the peaceful Sunnydale High library that had remained intact after last month’s graduation, Rupert Giles worked on his latest monograph for the Watchers’ Council records. The last few weeks had been remarkably prolific for the school librarian, now that he had a rare period of undisturbed quiet to devote to his scholarly endeavors. He hadn’t been this creative since being employed by the British Museum, and as Giles put down his pen to flex his fingers, the mature man found himself regretting his vacation would eventually come to an end.
But then, the entire Scooby Gang welcomed their own chances to take time off during the summer. Among them, Xander went on his cross-country road trip, Willow had been talked by Oz into going on tour with his band, and even Buffy managed to travel on combined vacation/business trips with her mother to help find artwork for that older Summers woman’s store. All this was possible because the Hellmouth and its demonic population had been surprisingly tranquil ever since a certain politician had regrettably perished in an accidental death while making a speech in front of the graduating Sunnydale Class of ’99. Or so the newspapers claimed.
In reality, Giles knew that while virtually all of the human witnesses, other than the Scoobies, had in the end been affected by Sunnydale Syndrome to forget just what they’d undergone, this didn’t apply to any of the demons that had also been there. Once it’d been realized by various creatures that Wilkins’ demise had left vacant the position of ruler of the Hellmouth, these monsters began jockeying with each other, all determined to make themselves the ultimate master of the Boca del Infierno. Frenzied maneuvering, politicking, bribing, and the odd assassination or two had broken out among every demonic clan, tribe, and societal group living in Sunnydale. However, in the main, actual conflict had been avoided, what with their leaders realizing that they needed to husband their resources and maintain the stalemate among everyone, until it finally came time for a successful attack upon their foes. Which meant for once, it was actually safe for humans to go out at night in the California city. Well…safer, anyway.
This also meant there was remarkably little work for a blonde warrior woman. After the start of summer, Buffy was beginning to go nearly crazy from sheer boredom. With her friends gone and only an occasional vampire to be staked (usually the latest fledglings and the total bunglers who hadn’t already been hired by the demon mobs), plus the rest of the monsters were hiding in their lairs while otherwise occupied in plotting against each other instead of normally trying to Take Over The World, an idle Slayer was becoming a very cranky Slayer.
It soon became so bad that Giles received two telephone calls in a row. One was from Willy No-Name, owner and barkeep of the scuzziest demon tavern in town, the Alibi Room. Begging through swollen lips, this rat in human form actually pled with Giles to control his Slayer, who’d started finishing off her monotonous patrols by dropping in at the bar and beating up all the monsters there simply to relieve her irritation, without even bothering to ask them for information. Hell, at this point, every customer would have been more than willing to tell Buffy Summers anything she wanted to know. Just stop with the hitting and kicking, already!
When Giles had been recovering from the first phone message, he speedily had another call from someone he knew and liked far more than his first caller. A very concerned Joyce Summers had asked the Englishman if he knew why her daughter had been in such a bad mood lately. At that exact moment, Rupert Giles was struck with an absolutely wonderful inspiration that eventually brought him a great deal of satisfaction. After briefly commiserating with Joyce, the librarian then politely asked her to expect a call from him later on with a possible solution to this mother’s difficulties.
After a surprised Mrs. Summers had agreed and hung up, Giles made another quick call, this time to Willy himself, who was justifiably suspicious about being on the phone with the Slayer’s Watcher so soon again. The barkeeper’s distrustful mood improved markedly when Giles explained that he could see his way to changing Buffy’s patrolling in order to keep her from regularly visiting Willy’s Alibi Room -- on the sole condition that the proprietor and his entire fiendish clientele secretly passed onto the Englishman every single scrap of information concerning their knowledge of what was presently going on around the Hellmouth.
Willy was more
than willing to agree. The little slimeball cheerfully promised to set up at once a pipeline into the entire demonic underworld. “You bet, Mr. Giles! Anything you want to know! Soon’s as I hear it, any move by one or more of the big boys is gonna get told to you right away!”
Learning he’d have to deal much less often in the future with a tiny blonde having very hard fists was the best news Willy had heard in years. The thrilled bar owner’s resulting giddy mood wasn’t even brought down by Giles then delivering in a very cold and menacing tone the threat of “--putting your cleaned and trepanned skull on my desk and using it as an inkwell.”
Instead, Willy gushingly assured a stern librarian that the barkeep knew better than to ever take advantage of the situation, or passing on any news he hadn’t triple-checked first. Breaking into ecstatic giggles of sheer relief, Willy hung up on the satisfied older man, and in his bar, the direct descendent of a cross between a capybara and a chimpanzee got carried away enough to declare, right then and there, a round for the entire house.
Only the fact that Willy was behind the drinks counter saved him from being instantly trampled under the onrushing clawed feet, paws, hooves, and tentacles possessed by the crowd of demons bellying up to the bar, with their glasses, mugs, and beakers eagerly held out to be filled to the brim.
Back at the library, a smirking Giles then called Buffy’s private number, and he told the startled Slayer that since the Hellmouth was presently so quiet and this appeared to remain the same in the near future, it would be possible for the young woman to take short vacations from Sunnydale during the summer while accompanying her mother on business trips. Prudently holding away from his ear the telephone receiver, the resulting squeal of utter delight only slightly deafened Giles. Next, this man went on to assure Buffy that there’d be no problem for him to learn in time about any possible crisis on the Hellmouth, and if necessary, the out-of-town Slayer could be swiftly summoned to deal with this. A joyful Buffy took Giles at his word, and after profusely thanking her Watcher, she hung up and went to tell her mom the good news.
A month later, everyone was happy. This included Giles, Buffy, Joyce, and even Willy. This latter sleazebag still thought Miss Punch-First-And-Demand-Answers-Afterwards was out patrolling somewhere else on the Hellmouth besides his bar, as also believed by his customers and the rest of the city’s demon population. Willy made sure this fortunate state of affairs continued by keeping his ear to the ground and sharing all he learned with Giles. In turn, the librarian told Willy that Buffy would continue to stay away while taking care of the rest of Sunnydale, as per their deal. Actually, Buffy hadn’t bothered to visit the Alibi Room in between her trips with her mom, simply because there wasn’t any real reason for this. Since things were still mostly peaceful in the city after dark, a quick patrol by the Slayer usually took care of any minor stuff before going off on another trip.
It must be admitted that Giles was becoming a bit intrigued over how much longer he’d get away with it. But then, that was part of the fun. In any event, sooner or later Buffy would learn all about her Watcher’s little scheme, and it was an absolute certainty she’d properly take him to task over this. No doubt she’d be as adorable as ever while yelling at an unruffled Rupert Giles. With any luck, he’d manage to achieve a record pout from his Slayer, all while calmly polishing his glasses and at the same time pointing out he merely wanted to give Buffy a nice vacation. At the most, Giles estimated it’d take perhaps five seconds for his daughter-in-heart to then feel horribly guilty.
In his library chair, Ripper sniggered to himself. It was truly amazing how flat-out entertaining it could be to manipulate a teenager, which was one of the few perks of adulthood. Picking up his pen as he continued to chuckle evilly, Giles was about to return to his writing when the desk phone rang, and it was answered by, “Rupert Giles.”
Alone in the library, Giles allowed a rare, wide smile to form, completely different from the resigned voice that said, “Really, Xander, must
“I must, oh master of tweed,” happily declared another teenager far away on his road trip. “How’s things back home?”
“Still quiet, I’m very glad to say.” Absently, Giles then rapped his knuckles against the wooden top of his desk.
“Great,” approvingly noted Xander, who went on in a more serious tone. “You know if that changes, you call me right away, okay? I should be able to get back in a day, no matter where I end up, ’cause there’s always some kind of airport nearby.”
Giles smiled again, this time in actual pride. However, his next statement was delivered in the man’s usual calm manner, “Quite right. Fortunately, this doesn’t seem necessary at the moment, so you should be able to continued your road trip. By the way, where are you now?”
“Utah, at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. I’m at a rest stop with those big hills ahead of me looking near enough to touch, a beautiful creek at my feet, lots of tall trees around -- in short everything that’d make Buffy flee in terror and hide in the nearest mall.” Xander cackled briefly, to then cheerfully ask, “So, have you heard from the girls?”
Relaxing in his chair, Giles responded, “Buffy and her mother will be back tomorrow, with a reported success in acquiring, I quote, ‘an absolutely darling set of Bauer ring dinnerware’, whatever that is. Willow received her very own t-shirt from the band having the words ‘No. 1 Roadie’ on this. And, er…I haven’t heard from Cordelia since she left for Los Angeles.” A saddened look briefly crossed Giles’ face as he delivered that last sentence.
“Me, either,” glumly commented Xander, with him falling silent after saying that. As an increasingly awkward pause grew longer between the two males, Giles frantically tried to think of something to change the subject.
Luckily, the Briton had some fine news at hand that his listener would want to know. “Xander, I’ve completed every bit of the paperwork for your college admission forms and the apartment rental near UCS. All the fees and other bills were paid from your account. The only thing that needs to be done now is for you to sign everything and return them to the proper recipients. Where do you want me to send them?”
“Umm…” Xander thought aloud, before coming to a decision. “I should be in Denver by the end of the week. Ship the stuff by general delivery to the main post office there, and I’ll pick them up. Thanks for everything, Giles!”
“It was my pleasure,” Giles said happily. Clearing his throat, the Englishman continued in an approving tone, “May I say once again, I consider your recent actions to be quite mature, using your entire windfall to pay for your further education.”
On the phone, Xander made suitably modest noises over what the entire Scooby Gang now knew. How their friend decided to start his road trip by traveling in the best clunker he could afford, only for his car engine to completely disintegrate at the Las Vegas city limits. Too embarrassed to tell anyone back at Sunnydale about this, Xander had spent the next couple of weeks working as a casino busboy in order to pay off his repair bill. Finally back on the road and just about to put Vegas in his rear-view mirror, the teenager made a last-minute stop for gas and Twinkies. Deciding to blow the last of his change, Xander played the gas station’s slot machine. And he’d won.
Oh, not a retire-for-life jackpot, but it had been a nice chunk of change. More than enough for Xander to pay for a full four years of college and
rent a decent, if small, place of his own, to boot. Simply getting out of his parents’ house forever would’ve ordinarily thrilled Xander beyond belief, but when added to this the means of being with his friends when they also attended college…mere words couldn’t begin to describe his happiness.
For the next few minutes, Xander and Giles chatted further over various minor matters, until the younger man promised to call again soon, thanked the librarian again for all he’d done, and the conversation between the two now ended. Putting his cell phone back in his pocket, Xander got up from the picnic table where he’d been sitting, gave one last admiring look at the magnificent scenery he was about to visit, and ambled back to his car. Unlike his former (and absolutely crummy) means of transportation which had been left behind in Las Vegas, this
vehicle was a spanking new, cherry-red Jeep with all the bells and whistles any American male with a driver’s license could possibly lust after.
Halting in his tracks to smirk at his bitchin’ wheels, Xander said out loud a bit regretfully, “I’m kinda sorry for lying to you and the rest of the Scoobies, G-man, but when I changed into Triplicate Girl just before I left, no power on earth was gonna make me tell anybody about it.”
Not when, during closely investigating his latest manifestation of the random Chaos magic that had been plaguing Xander ever since that Halloween long ago, the three bodies of Luornu Durgo together flawlessly performed a Sunnydale High cheerleader routine from memory alone while inside the basement of his parents’ home. A trio of identically awe-struck expressions were then shared by one individual in their triple forms, as Xander instantly recollected a good many other physical performances from such films as Flashdance, Showgirls,
and Fear City.
There was now joy in Sunnydale when Xander found that she, she, and she could indeed perfectly imitate those other silver screen terpsichorean ecdysiasts.
A quick visit to Willy’s Alibi Room resulted in the acquisition of three sets of picture perfect identity documents for Sandi, Mandy, and Anndee Harris, all paid for with every last cent of cousin Xander’s money. As long as he got his cut, Willy would keep his mouth shut forever about the whole thing. Besides any personal spark of curiosity by the barkeep regarding the entire odd situation was quickly extinguished by a knife held to his throat and a chilling whisper into his ear that while Buffy would only beat him up, this Slayer’s friend had no problem at all in killing
him, if necessary. Was he gonna make it necessary?
At that point, an utterly terrified Willy nearly fractured his neck by frantically shaking it ‘NO!’
Satisfied, Xander had left for Las Vegas, his friends’ fond goodbyes and best wishes for a great road trip ringing in his ears. Once he’d arrived at Sin City, the teenager found a nice, private spot, and five minutes later, three young (but still legal) ladies auditioned at the finest strip club in town. They’d been hired on the spot, naturally. Even for Vegas, you didn’t often see something so hot as identical triplet sisters spectacularly performing a couple of the sexiest routines ever presented on the stage.
Xander wasn’t bothered at all by the nightly disrobing down to complete nudity. He
wasn’t doing it, see. It was them,
those lovely girls, who were raking in the cash, and whom also could’ve gotten even more if they were prepared to expand their horizons whenever they were asked by a truly incredible number of people, both men and women. Xander, or rather any of the trio so solicited, politely turned everyone down, no matter how hard it got sometimes. It helped that the Sunnydale native couldn’t be sure when the Chaos magic would wear off. It’d already lasted longer than any other occasion, and he could easily change back and forth at will from a guy to three girls, and vice versa.
Thankfully, Xander was in his luxurious hotel room a couple of weeks later when the good times finally ended, instead of being in the middle of a performance. As planned, he called in his (or their, if you prefer) resignation, brought a new car, left town before anyone got suspicious, and happily informed his Sunnydale friends of his totally fictitious lucky break and what he now wanted to do with his money.
Breathing in with satisfaction the fresh Utah mountain air, Xander got into his Jeep, started the vehicle, and as he pulled out of the roadside rest stop, a stray thought again entered his mind. It was a weird question that had been bugging him on and off, ever since becoming Triplicate Girl:
When a trio of hot young identical women possessing one personality has a threesome, does that count as incest, or just masturbation?