miscellany n 1: a collection containing a variety of sorts of things.

Willow balanced one more book on the stack, then slid her hands under them and lifted carefully. *Oof. I should probably divide this pile in half. Either that, or get one of those back-brace belts. Eh, I can make it.* She carefully began to waddle back into the stacks, scanning the filing numbers on the labels taped to the spines of the shelved books.

She located the section she needed, then hesitated. *Drat. Someone moved that chair that was on this aisle an hour ago. Now where am I going to set these things while I shelve them? There isn't enough space on any of the shelves...*

"You look kinda lost." The man who'd just turned into the far end of the aisle was coming toward her, smiling.

*Oo. No, I shouldn't... Hell, just because I'm with Tarah doesn't mean I can't appreciate a male booty now and then. Nice. Hair's just as red as mine is, and there's more of it. I'd say he was pretty if he wasn't so obviously a guy.* "No, I'm not lost. I'm where I'm supposed to be, but the chair I was planning on using has wandered off."

Blair cocked his head sideways and began reading the titles. "The Erotic Art of Pompeii, Positions: Sexual and Social, Hot Mamas and Cool Cats: Sex in the Twenties, The Joy of Gay Sex, Sexual Liberation in the Sixties, Beat Me Daddy: Sado/maschocism..." He smiled at her impishly. "Research?"

"Part-time job. This section always has a lot of reshelving. You'd be surprised how many of them we find stashed in, like, the sports section."

"No, I wouldn't. Personally, I used to sneak them into the philosophy section. Can I help you with those?"

"Oh, geez, thanks. Lassie."

The young man frowned as he carefully took the pile of books. "Look, I know the hair may be a bit much, but..."

"That's not why I called you Lassie." She took a copy of Victor's Secret: Confessions of a Crossdresser, and put it on the shelf. "Lassie, as in life saver. Besides, Lassie is always played by a boy dog."

"Lassie is a crossdresser?"

"So was Spuds McKenzie."

"Spuds was a bitch?"

"Actually, I hear she was very easy to work with. So, if you don't want to be called Lassie, what is your name?"

"Blair Sandburg. I'd shake hands, but..." He lifted the books slightly.

"Oh, yes. I'd better get those put away before you have to file an insurance claim." She quickly started to shelve the books. "I'm Willow Rosenburg."

"Willow? Does your mom know my mom? She says I barely escaped being named Starshine."

Willow smiled as she unloaded the books. "Hippie?"

"Not exactly. Mm... If I had to lable her I'd say she's a hippie/gypsy/free spirit hybrid. Hey, does that one about Pompeii have lots of big illustrations?"

Willow flipped it open. "Oo. Yep." She turned the book around and showed it to him.

He tilted his head, trying to look at it from a different angle. "Acrobatic little boogers, weren't they?"

"I think that some of these are the ancient equivalent of a letter to the editor in Penthouse--more wishful thinking than anything else." She shut it. "Shall I set it aside for you?"

"Please. Have you by any chance run across anything else about B.C. good times?"

"Let me guess--you're a history buff, and you're trying to combine your interests."

"Kinda. I figured that if I used one popular interest, I might actually succeed in cramming a little historic and social information into the slackers' brains."

She studied him curiously. "You're not part of the faculty. I know--the babe vine would have alerted me."

"Babe vine?"

"It's kind of like a grape vine, but it's used to alert all female students to the finer instructors, so they can sign up for their classes."

Blair's grin widened. "I'd qualify?"

"There would be cat fights over the last slots in your schedule. You could make extra income by selling tickets."

He laughed. "Thanks. No, I never quite made it to professor, though I might in the future. I did do some teaching in Washington at Rainier. Anyway, I'm going to do a series of guest lectures that the needy can attend for extra credit."

"I have a hard time believing that they're paying you anything except maybe meal vouchers."

Blair dug in his pocket and extracted an ID card. "Not even that. They bought me for this."

"A library card?"

"I was desperate. Anyway, I can do these sort of talks in my sleep. Ask my lover."

*Drat.* "When and where are you going to do these talks?"

"Don't tell me you need extra credit?"

"Nope. But if you're going to be discussing things like that, I think I can make time."

"Nothing is set yet. I'm shooting for Wednesday evening, but I have no idea where. I might even have it at the rec room for my apartment complex. It looks pretty decent sized. Mm... but I don't suppose The Powers That Be would loan me an overhead projector."

"The Powers That...? Oh, you mean the administration."

He gave her a curious look. "Of course. Who else?"

"I think I can get you a projector. My friend Giles has one at the Magic Box, and I'm pretty sure he'll be willing to loan it."

"Would that happen to be Rupert Giles?"

*That interested him.* "Yes. Do you know him?" She slapped her forehead. "Of course you know him! He would have had to approve the card."

"What's the Magic Box? He didn't look like a nightclub manager to me."

"The Magic Box is just what it sounds like--a magic store."

"Oh. Trick decks and top hats."

"No, real magic. Crystals, herbs... The real deal. Frequented by Wiccans."

"Oh." Blair nodded. "Pagans. Oh, hell, I'd have probably ended up there eventually anyway. Now I have an excuse to be there. So he's, like, a warlock?"

"The more accepted term would be sorcerer, but not exactly."

"Could you give me the address?"

"Sure. Come on." She led him up front to one of the tables near the front. There was a tray of old catalogue cards for notes, and a few pencil stubs. Willow took a card and scribbled an address on it. "Here you are. I wrote you a reference, too."

"Aren't you a sweet little thing? I could just pinch your cheek."

"I don't think my girlfriend would approve."

Blair blinked, then shrugged. "While my boyfriend would have no problem with it whatsoever."

They exchanged a look of mutual understanding. "Do you ever go by The Bronze?"

"It has recently become one of my favorite places on earth."

"Great. I'll probably see you there."

"Looking forward to it." He flipped over the card that she'd written the address on and said, "Hey! Animals and Sexuality in Various Cultures. Do you suppose they still have this one on the shelves?" He started back into the stacks, scanning the books. "I'd like to see what they have to say about wolves and jaguars."

Giles examined the puzzle box carefully. *Nasty little thing. Sort of a demonic Rubik's cube. I wonder how Barker ever got the idea? Judging from some of that man's prose, I wouldn't be at all surprised if he didn't dabble a bit. Some of his descriptions come very close to...*

The chimes over the front door tinkled. Giles put the box down gently, turning his gaze to see who'd entered, and felt his pulse speed up. Blair Sandburg was standing just inside the door, hands on hips, sweeping an interested look over the room. When his eyes lighted on Giles, the smile broadened, and Giles felt his heart rate go up again as the young man walked toward him.

Giles was unsure of his ability to speak until the words actually came out of his mouth. "Well, let's all sing a chorus of 'It's a Small, Small World', shall we?" He winced inwardly. *Oh, good show, Rupert. I think the appropriate American term is either 'dweeb' or 'nerd'.*

Blair rolled his eyes. "Look, if you must do Disney, try 'The Bear Necessities'. Baloo was cool, and Bagheera and Shere Khan were sexy." He presented a small card to Giles.

The older man took it, and read the printed information, eyebrows lifting. "Oh. Um, interesting sounding volume, but my reading stock is limited to..."

"Other side."

Giles flipped the card over and read the short message in the familiar looping hand. "Oh, you've met Willow. Marvelous."

"You'll notice that the trusting little thing has given me a glowing reference. She suggested that you might have an overhead projector that I could borrow for my lectures."

"I don't see why not. I don't get all that much use out of it." In truth, there hadn't been much need for the projector since the Slayerettes had graduated high school and begun to spread out. What briefings there were were usually more intimate, and he could easily pass around whatever material they needed to peruse. Other than that, he occasionally used the projector to throw a diagram on the wall or floor if he needed to be particularly meticulous in drawing symbols for a spell or summoning. He could usually accomplish what he needed to by hand, but in magical dealings it was always good to be as accurate as possible.

"Fantastic. Do you have it here?"

"Yes, it's just down in the basement... Put that down!"

Blair had picked up the puzzle box, and had been turning it over in his hands, examining it. At Giles's sharp exclamation he started, and the box began to slip from his grasp. He grabbed at it. His fingers scrabbled on the slick, black surface, where intricate patterns were etched in gold. There was a faint click as a section on one side depressed slightly, sliding forward to that there was a curving gap in the surface of that side, and a shallow wedge of veneer extended over the rim.

Blair thought he heard a very faint noise--something resembling the buzzing of many flies in a far off room. *The buzzing of flies never means anything good,* he thought, at the exact moment he thought he saw a flicker of blue light through the crack, inside the cube. Giles snatched the box roughly from his grip, muttering under his breath. Gripping it flat between his palms, he wrenched his hands in opposite directions. There was a hiss, and a click as the tiny portion that had moved slid up and back.

Again Blair experienced what he assumed was an auditory hallucination. This time he thought he heard the muted thunk of a very heavy metalic door swinging shut somewhere in the distance, barely at the edge of his senses. It was accompanied by what could only be interpretted as a regretful sigh.

He noticed that Giles had turned pale, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his brow and upper lip. His voice strained, the Englishman said, "Please, Blair, don't go fiddling with things in here."

"I'm sorry. I didn't break it, did I?"

Giles set it under the counter. "No, no. No permanent damage."

"I saw one something like that advertised in a collector's catalogue. It's not one of the original props, is it?"

"Oh, no. This one is genuine in a much different manner. Now," he came around from behind the counter, drawing a ring of keys from his pocket. "I was ready for a break, in any case. I'll just lock up." He locked the door and picked up a little sign that said 'Back in __ minutes'. Pulling a felt tip pen from his jacket pocket, he scrawled 30 in the slightly smeared blank space, then hung the sign on the tiny hook that dangled from a suction cup in the middle of the door glass. "There. Now, come along. I'm not entirely sure of where it is, and it isn't really the sort of thing that one person should be carting up a steep, narrow flight of stairs."

He led Blair to the back of the shop. The young man followed slowly, head swivelling constantly as he tried to take in the contents of the shelves. "Hey Giles, did I see something labeled 'toad powder' back there?"

"Yes." He offered no explanation.

"Do you ever have cause to use it, personally, I mean?"

"Occasionally."

"Mm."

"Mm, what?"

"Well, I may have just found an explanation for the froggy smell comment. I'm still not sure about the doggy smell comment, though."

"That makes perfect sense."

"Maybe I'll explain it, after I get to know you better."

Giles flipped on all the switches at the top of the stairs, illuminating all the sections of the basement, then started down. "Blair, please promise me that you will not handle anything down here. The projector is large enough so that we shouldn't have much trouble locating it. There are things down here that are dangerous to an expert, let alone a novice."

"What, have you got a bomb factory down here?"

"Nothing as harmless as that."

"I was joking, Giles."

"I wasn't."

"Oh-kay."

"It's nothing illegal, Blair. It's simply that there are things that shouldn't be used by someone who isn't well versed in their use and... potential."

"Gotcha."

*I wish.* "Why don't you try that section over there? I'll check in the back."

He hesitated, watching as Blair made his way over to the side of the basement. Well, watching Blair's butt, anyway. *I really ought to have given more thought to putting in a shower down here. A cold shower right now would be helpful. A hot one would be much more enjoyable, but a cold one would be more practical, I suppose.*

The projector wasn't too very hard to locate. It was on a middle shelf right in back. "Blair, I've found it."

"Cool." He bustled over and examined the machine. "But check out that bulb. Awful shadowy, dude. I think it may be kaput."

Giles opened the machine and unscrewed the bulb, then shook it gently. There was a faint, tinny scratching. "Yes, the filament is gone. However..." He scanned the upper shelves. "Ah, yes. There's a box of bulbs on the top shelf."

Giles reached up toward the box. His fingers waved several inches below the box. "Drat." He stood on tip-toe, straining, and still not reaching.

Blair watched the long sweep of the librarian's back. The tweeds of his trousers had pulled tight across the back of nicely muscular thighs, and when his jacket lifted Blair caught a glimpse of the bottom curves of a very presentable ass.

Giles looked at him ruefully. "I have absolutely no idea how we managed to get those up there in the first place. I suppose there's a step-ladder around here somewhere."

"No need. You can give me a leg up."

*I wouldn't mind giving you two legs up.* "How do you suggest?"

"Um, let's see... We could do piggy-back. You just squat a little, and bend over, and I'll kind of hop on." Giles felt as if his breath were thickening. The younger man sidled closer to him in the narrow aisle. "Or you could grab me around the waist and lift while I hop and grab."

"Would that be with you facing me, or...?"

"Up to you. We could try both."

"Uh... well..." Giles made a couple of awkward movements, like a gentleman trying to decide how to hold his prom date so that he didn't crush her taffeta.

"Just grab, man."

Giles dipped, sliding his arms around the smaller man's waist, tightened his hold, and lifted. Blair was plastered against him. When Giles stood, Blair rose, looking taller now than the Englishman. "Okay, hang on." Blair gripped Giles's shoulder with his left hand and leaned forward, stretching his right arm toward the box of bulbs.

Blair's T-shirt inched up, Blair leaned forward a bit more, and Giles found himself with his nose pressed just above Blair's bellybutton, with a line of soft hair tickling his chin. There was a flurry of motion, and Blair said, "Got it!" Giles breathed deeply. There was a spicy, musky smell, then a light tap on top of his head, "Giles? Got it."

"Mm? Yes. Just a moment."

"Oh." Giles could hear a smile in his voice. "Okay."

Giles twisted his head, rubbing his face across the warm skin of Blair's abdomen. "Are you in much of a hurry?"

"Feel about three or four inches south and find out for yourself."

"Thank you, dear boy. Don't mind if I do." Giles dipped his head. Blair was wearing jeans--tight jeans, made even tighter by the erection that had begun to burgen when he felt Giles's warm, moist breath on his abdomen. Blair caught his own breath as he felt the gentle pinch of Giles's teeth as they closed over the mound of his genitals.

"Giles..." Blair threaded his hands through the thick brown curls that were flecked with silver. "Buddy, you better put me down."

There was a sigh. "Yes, of course." He let Blair slide down his body, then reluctantly released him and stepped back. "Sorry."

Blair reached over and set the box of bulbs on a lower shelf, then grabbed Giles's arms and turned him, pushing him up against the back wall. "I'm not huge, but I'm not tiny, and we don't want you killing your back, do we? You may need it later. Now..." His hands moved inside Giles's jacket, then he lifted it and dragged it half down his arms, effectively trapping them. "Hold still."

Giles yelped as Blair laid a hand flat against his stomach and slid his fingers under his waistband. "Easy for you to say."

Blair grinned, pushing harder, and his fingertips brushed over the top of Gile's cock, skimming the sensitive skin just where the organ joined his body. "We don't need a lot of talk right now, do we? This is the Magic Box, right? Well, let's make magic."

"Turn my arms loose and I'll show you some magic gestures you'll never forget."

"God, I love it when I find someone almost as smart ass as I am." He withdrew his hand. Giles started to groan till he realized that Blair had only done that so that he could get to Giles's fly.

Giles whimpered as Blair jerked his pants open and pushed them, underwear and all, down his hips. He wasn't a big man, but his hands seemed a little large for his size. They certainly cradled his dick and balls easily. It felt so good that he didn't understand what Blair said the first time. "Beg pardon?"

"I said 'Do you have any rubbers?'."

"Bloody hell! No, I don't."

"Crap. Spontanaity is a wonderful thing, but lack of planning can seriously fuck some things up. Never mind." Blair was opening his own pants. "We can do this. Bend your knees a little, and open your legs."

"Bossy little thing, aren't you?"

Blair grabbed a fistful of hair on either side of Giles's head and growled. "You have no idea. Do it."

"Yes, sir!" Giles spread his legs and bent his knees slightly. Blair moved into the space provided. With Giles having lowered himself that scant couple of inches, their groins were perfectly aligned. Blair pushed forward, and their arousals rubbed together. Giles sighed voluptuously. "Oh, yes, sir!"

Blair started to hump against him in a strong, steady rhythm. Giles twisted his torso a little, lifting his arms as far as he could. His fingertips barely managed to brush the back of Blair's arms, and the younger man went very still. He was motionless, except for his heavy breathing.

Giles whined and tried to squirm. His erection was trapped between their bodies. He could feel the light fur of the line of hair that ran down to Blair's pubis, the warmth of the skin of his belly, and the softer, hotter skin wrapped around the firm column of his hard prick. Giles tried to push his hips against Blair, but those long-fingered, capable hands moved to grip him, holding him tight against the wall. "Blair!" he whined.

"You don't move, Giles, hear me? If you move, I'm going to step away, shove my poor, hard cock back into my pants, zip up, and go exercise some more good-neighbor policy with that babe who lives across from me. Got it?"

"No, that's the fucking problem." He forced himself to drop his arms and go still. "All right, I'm being good. Now, you be good."

Blair was. Giles could only gasp and shiver as the younger man undulated against him, the slick pre-ejaculate fluid that oozed from the tip of his cockhead painting a warm swath across his belly, and his own prick. He began to wonder if he hadn't perhaps dozed off behind the counter, and if this wasn't a particularly vivid wet dream.

That notion blew away when Blair set his teeth against his throat and nipped him sharply. The small pain sent a hot jolt down his spine, straight to his cock, and he came with a yelp that would have been embarassing if Blair himself hadn't made a very similar noise at about the same time.

Blair sucked hard at the patch of skin he'd captured, his sound of pleasure muffled, as he shot his load against the long, elegant body he had pinned to the wall. *Oh, gawd, I love being all primitive and aggressive! No wonder Jim ambushes me so often--it's fucking fun.*

As he leaned against Giles, panting, the older man said breathlessly, "Blair, either let me straighten up, hold me up completely, or help me slide down to the floor, because I cannot remain like this."

Setting his hands under Giles's armpits, he helped him straighten back up into a full standing position. As he pulled Giles's jacket back into position, freeing his arms, he said, "Damn. I was hoping I'd made you speechless." He rubbed the pad of one thumb over the aristocratic jawline of the other man. "You're going to have to give me a rematch at a future date."

Giles plucked an immaculate, neatly folded handkerchief from his pocket and wiped himself fastidiously. "While I do not claim to be a seer, I'd say that was a disitinct possibility." He took Blair's now softening cock in his hand and swabbed him, carefully removing every trace of sperm from the organ, and his belly and thighs.

Both men refastened their clothing, and Giles said briskly. "Right. I'd say that you are in the best shape to tote that swkward object up the stairs. I shall follow close behind to offer support and guidance."

They made their way carefully up the stairs, then Giles hurried ahead of Blair to open the door. He took charge of the projector while Blair unlocked his car, then loaded it into the back seat. "There. May I ask, at this belated point, what your lectures are going to be about?"

"Sex throughout history, pretty much." He turned so that his hip brushed against Giles's, and darted a smouldering glance up at him. "If I decide to do a section on the connection between sex and magic, can I count on you to help me with my research?"

Giles cleared his throat. "Always happy to help with... uh, academic activities."

When Blair was gone, Giles went back into the Magic Box, stopping to remove the little 'be back' sign, humming to himself, and generally feeling inordinately pleased with both himself, and the world in general.

He pulled the soiled handkerchief out of his pocket and regarded it. After a moment's thought, he slipped it into a baggie, then deposited it in the tiny freezer compartment of the store fridge. *After all,* he thought as he closed the door. *you never can tell when a bit of semen can come in handy with a bit of magik, or summoning, or some such.