The tile floor of the hall shined brighter than normal and the harsh florescent lights of Sunnydale High weren't so harsh this morning. Or at least that's how it looked to Oz. But, then again, everything was brighter this morning. Even things that weren't normally bright had a faint shimmer to them. But that wasn't it. Flowers smelled better, the sun was warmer, the air was cleaner. There was a huge grin on his face and his hand was curled around a bunch of bright spring flowers. Over the just-before-school din of any high school hall, he heard a beautiful sound. The bright laugh rang in his ears after the actual laugh had ceased. He turned toward the sound, catching a glint of the bright red hair as Willow put her head back and laughed again at whatever Buffy was saying. He watched her wave as Buffy walked off.

Willow started when, unexpectedly, a pair of arms encircled her from behind. She turned around as much as the arms allowed and gave her boyfriend a quick kiss. He stepped back and mock-bowed, presenting the flowers he had been carrying.

"For M'lady." A smile spread over Willow's face as she accepted the small bouquet, holding them up to her nose.

"That's so sweet of you!"

"You're sweet." Oz grinned at her, causing her smile to widen. Funny how he could do that do her. Now she'd have to go around all day with a silly grin all over her face. The noisy, awkward silences that had occured so often in the earlier part of their relationship were almost completely gone, and now silence could be a good thing. They could sit together and not say a word and be completely content in just being. Like now, they looked at each other, grinning, and just happy to be happy.

"It's strange actually." Oz said, as they began to walk toward the library. Willow tilted her head and looked at him, telling him with her eyes to go on.

"Well you know that cement island in the middle of the road? Well last night I could of sworn that it was...cement. And it was. But I was like two blocks from school this morning, just driving along, and there, in the middle of the island were flowers. Not just measely little weeds that grow through pavement, but a huge garden. Just growing out of the cement." He paused and held the library door open for her, then resumed talking.

"So anyway, there was this garden growing out of the cement. I thought I was hallucinating, but I stopped and went over, and they were real. So I picked these for you. And more weirdness. See how the bottoms are completely flat? Like I bought them? Well, that's how they were when I picked them. No roots at all, I checked. They were just these living flowers stuck growing out of the pavement, but not growing even. I'm thinking very odd."

"Maybe it's a sign. And flowers, well I'm guessing a good sign."

"Maybe the hellmouth decided to turn over a new leaf. Repent from sin, use the power for good."

"We can only hope."

Giles walked out of his office with a book in his hand. "What was that you said? About signs? Or a good hellmouth?"

"Oh. Oz found flowers growing in cement, except they weren't really growing." Willow said, sitting down in one of the big wooden library chairs.

"How's that?"

"Well this morning there was a garden just stuck in the pavement." Oz said.

"That's odd. Are those flowers from the garden in question?" Giles asked, pointing at the flowers Willow held. She passed one over to him. "It appears to be just like any other flower, yet I think that the phenomena of living plants in pavement should be looked into. Perhaps it is, as you say, a sign. Of what, I can't begin to guess, but it is a possibility.

"There seems to be a lull in hellmouth activity that my books can't seem to explain. I tried the computer, but the machine seems to dislike me. Maybe later one of you could try to find out something." Giles glanced at the clock on the wall behind the desk. "Right now, you had better get to class. I suppose I'll be seeing you later." Giles walked back into his office.

Oz offered his arm to Willow, with a boyish smile. "Shall we? Willow hooked her arm through his. "Of course, dear sir. You are quite the gentleman." She matched him, smile for smile. Step for step, as they walked into the noisy hallway.

Buffy looked up from page of the book Giles was pointing at as the library's heavy double doors swung open.

"Hey Buff. What brings you to the book room on such a beautiful afternoon? Kids these days, don't spend enought time outside in the sunshine. tsk tsk." Xander resumed his whistling, flopping down in a chair across from Buffy.

"Actually, not much. Which is so not of the normal that I'm almost to the point of jumpy. It's strange, how nasties grow on you. You hate them so much you miss beating them to a pulp." Buffy said.

"Nothing to slay equals no slaying. It's a proven fact."

Giles took off his glasses and sighed, exasperated. Whether at Xander's strangely humorous idiocy, or at the halt in activity, he himself wasn't even sure. Why would one be frustrated when what you worked to get rid of was, at least temporarily, gone? It wasn't boredom, no, it was more of an eeire feeling in his bones-or the lack thereof. "Buffy, Xander, why don't you go. There's nothing for you to do, and I just need to finish something I started a while ago, then I might go home and read a book. You might as well enjoy this break."

Buffy and Xander left the libarary, talking about some American television show Giles hadn't even heard of. He went behind the desk, looking for some books that he had to finish cross referencing, when he noticed a bright yellow daffodil sitting on the filing cabinet. He picked it up and held it up, letting the smells of spring creep into his nose. He remembered that there used to be daffodils on the hill behind the house he lived in when he was a boy. He hadn't thought about that house for years. It had been the perfect place to grow up, outside a suburb of London, the beautiful countryside, a small school in the neighboring town. That was a long time ago. That was before a lot of things. He opened his eyes, which he hadn't realized were closed, and looked at the daffodil again, breathing deep again and savoring the scent of the happy flower. There had been something connected to the flower. He forgot where he had gotten it from, he had been supposed to look at it, supposed to figure something out. Someone had given it to him. He forgot now. It had been so clear when he first saw the flower, but now it was locked in a room somewhere deep in his brain, somewhere that he didn't have the key to. He'd have to ask his mother, she'd know. She'd know what he was supposed to find out about the flower. She'd know who gave it to him, and when that had happened. For now, it was alright. His mother had always said "stop and smell the roses". She was so wise. There was no hurry. He could figure it out later. He put the books and the flower down and walked out of the library. By the time he was through the doors, he'd forgotten about the flower altogether. His house in the countryside was waiting for him to get home. He'd have to hurry-it was a long walk from the city, and he wouldn't want to miss dinner.

Willow pushed open the double doors to the library, humming a song from some Disney movie. She didn't remember the words or the movie it came from, but she didn't care.

"Giles? Buffy?" she said, curiously. It was odd for the library to be empty after school, but what with the current lack of activity, it wasn't too freaky. Still humming, she whirled around to go look for her friends.

Willow screamed.

---

Continues