Buffy checked her bad mood along with her jacket when she entered The Vineyard, a small Italian restaurant located just around the corner from her mother's art gallery.

"Buffy!" Papa Joe Felucci, the elderly owner, beamed when he saw her. "Where have you been? We haven't seen you in weeks!"

"I was getting fat on Felucci fettucini." Buffy smiled, warmed by the old man's friendly smile. She and her mom had been regular customers since they had moved to Sunnydale.

"Impossible!" Joe feigned a look of shocked dismay. "My fettucini is almost calorie free!"

"Good! Because my stomach has been grumbling for it all day." Buffy laughed and followed Joe into the dining room. When her mom had invited her to dinner, she had eagerly accepted, hoping the diversion would take her mind off exams.

"Buffy!" Joyce Summers waved from a corner table by a large bay window. Festive lanterns illuminated the grape arbors in the small courtyard outside. Her mother's smile lit up the room.

"Sorry I'm late." Buffy gave Joyce a peck on the cheek and sat down. "Can we order right away? I'm famished."

"Didn't you eat lunch?" Joyce asked with a frown, then shook her hand to erase the inquiry. "Never mind. I promised myself I wouldn't indulge in any maternal meddling tonight."

"No third degree?" Buffy teased. "What will we talk about?"

"I'll think of something." Joyce smiled and scanned the menu. "After I decide on one of Joe's specialties."

Buffy knew the menu by heart and handed it to the waiter unopened. "Antipasto, Felucci fettucini, and iced tea."

"Make it two." Joyce sighed when the waiter left. She picked up a breadstick and broke it, then placed it on her bread plate and absently sipped her coffee.

Buffy thought she seemed a little tense. "So how was your day, Mom? Everything okay at the gallery?"

"Business is booming." Joyce nodded, smiled, and hesitated again.

"So why do I get the impression there's a problem?" Buffy asked.

"No problem," Joyce quickly countered. "Not yet, anyway."

"Anything I can do to help?" Buffy felt awkward pumping her mother for information, but something was obviously troubling her. "With whatever it is... that you don't want to tell me."

"What?" Joyce started. "Oh, no. I want to talk to you about it. That's why I asked you to dinner... and because we haven't been out together lately."

Buffy smiled to put her mother at ease. "So what do you need?"

Joyce put down the breadstick and looked Buffy in the eye. "The Slayer."

"Slayer? As in stake-a-vampire Slayer?" Buffy lowered her voice and frowned. "What vampire?"

"No one in particular," Joyce said. "The Sunnydale Sidewalk Art Festival is this weekend and, well, unlike most of the people in this town, I know we have a serious security problem."

"I forgot about the festival!" Buffy gave herself a mental slap to the forehead for spacing yet another of her mother's projects.

Since the previous festival coordinator was now a permanent resident of the Shady Hill Cemetery, Joyce had been asked to coordinate and run the weekend event. The City Council insisted on holding the Sidewalk Art Festival every year as though it might somehow prove Sunnydale was just an ordinary small town. Most of Sunnydale's population existed in a state of blind denial regarding the Hellmouth horrors that stalked the streets.

Her mother didn't suffer from any such delusions.

Hard to ignore the demon underground when your daughter is the first and only line of defense, Buffy thought.

Joyce leaned forward to whisper. "I mean, what if some demon thing picks this weekend to launch a reign of terror?"

"Well, as far as I know, Giles isn't worried about anything big happening," Buffy offered, to ease her mother's mind.

Buffy, however, was mentally focused on Sunnydale being overrun with unsuspecting artists and buyers. Easy prey for the vampire gourmet, she thought. "Serious security problem" hardly defined the potential for disaster. These days the sun set before seven. Lingering spectators and artists closing up their displays would be at great risk from vampires as darkness fell on downtown Sunnydale.

"Well, that's a relief, but--" Joyce glanced from side to side. " -- what about vampires?"

"The normal menace?" Buffy shrugged. "If I concentrate my patrols around the show site and the nearby motels, I can probably keep the vamps under control."

Joyce sighed and nodded as she sat back. "I hate to ask you to give up your weekend, Buffy, but I really need your help. Nobody else can handle this except you and your friends."

Her mother's request was kind of ironic, Buffy realized. Six months ago Joyce had had a hard time accepting that her daughter was destined to defend the world against demonic evil until the day she died. Now Joyce needed her Slayer skills to safeguard the artists she had invited into the demons' lair.

"I don't have any plans," Buffy said. Actually, she was glad to have something to distract her from the tension that existed between her and Angel now. They didn't talk about it much, but the unsolvable problem was always there beneath the surface. They couldn't stand to be apart and yet, they were never really together.

"In fact," Buffy added, "I can't think of anything I'd rather do than help you out by dusting a few unsavory elements."

"Metaphorically speaking." Joyce smiled tightly as the waiter placed their appetizers in front of them.

"I'm pretty sure we can count on everyone to help out," Buffy said after the waiter left. "Giles, too, probably."

"I can't tell you what a relief that is." Joyce hesitated again. "Speaking of Willow and Xander, there is one other thing..."

"Name it." Buffy stabbed a piece of cheese and popped it into her mouth.

"I could use some brains and muscle with the actual art show," Joyce said. "I was hoping Willow might handle artist registration on the gallery computer. And maybe Oz and Xander could help mark off the display areas and help the artists set up?"

"I'll ask," Buffy said. "I'm meeting everyone at the Bronze later."

The Bronze was busy for a weeknight, but not packed to the rafters. Xander spotted Buffy and waved her over to the table he and Willow had grabbed near the stage. Willow's attention was glued to Oz as Dingoes Ate My Baby slammed into their break theme.

"Hey, Buffy!" Xander patted the chair beside him. "Welcome to the demon fighters anonymous social hour."

"Charter members only," Willow said. "Except for Oz."

"Did I miss something?" Buffy raised an eyebrow as she set down her coffee and slipped into the seat.

"Not unless you've got a thing for high stakes pool." Xander nodded toward the pool table. The Sunnydale High School basketball team had been challenged by a group of frat brats from the UC Sunnydale campus. "Loser buys -- coffee all around."

A collective groan rose from the high school team when the fraternity challenger sank two balls with one stroke. The college boy slapped a high-five with a friend.

Buffy graced the competitive gathering with a casual look of disdain. "Like winning is a matter of life and death. I don't get it."

"It's a guy thing," Xander explained.

"Dingoes played two new songs in this set." Willow grinned. "And Devon only forgot the words twice."

"Four times." Oz pulled a chair over and kissed Willow on the cheek. "Five maybe."

"Not that anyone cares." Xander shrugged. "For someone who's several watts short of brilliant, Devon does a passable job of faking it."

"Then all's quiet in the demon department?" Buffy asked.

"It's so quiet I almost wish Spike would come back," Xander muttered. He looked up to find everyone staring. "To liven things up, which Spike does rather well for an undead guy."

"A little desperate for entertainment, aren't you?" Buffy blew on the steaming coffee and sipped.

Xander shrugged. Now that Cordelia Chase was romantic history, his status as an eligible senior male had resumed. Unfortunately, the only eligible female who seemed to care was Anya, an ex-demon with a passion for making men suffer.

"Then you don't have a hot date this weekend?" Buffy asked.

"Let me put it this way." Xander leaned forward. As of this second, he was still resisting Anya's not so subtle effort to attract him. "If the video store hasn't stocked up on new releases, it's going to be a very long, very boring weekend."

"We could always do popcorn and the monster movie marathon," Willow suggested. "Forty-eight hours of black and white classics starting at midnight Friday."

"Isn't the band booked?" Buffy glanced at Oz.

"Devon's going to LA to see an agent," Oz said. "No gig."

"No full moon and no snarly, hairy guy, either." Willow pressed closer to Oz.

"So you can neck without worrying about having your throat ripped out." Xander nodded. "We could hang out in my house. It's not Trump Plaza, but on the plus, it's totally parent free."

"And vampire safe," Oz said.

"Sounds like fun, but I was thinking more along the lines of sharpening some stakes and keeping the Sunnydale Sidewalk Art Festival vampire free." Buffy's gaze darted from one face to the other and settled on Xander.

Xander didn't hesitate. He'd seen every movie on the monster marathon schedule a dozen times. "Prime the crossbow and break out the holy water, I'm ready to ride."

"Great!" Buffy grinned. "And don't forget your hammer."

"What?" Xander frowned, confused. "We're going to pound the undead scum before we dust them?"