As it's been years since I've either given blood or worked out really hard, I'm not sure how they relate.

Blood volume drops by a pint when you donate -- I *think* this is what, 1/6 of total blood volume in the body? -- and working out is something that causes the heart to work harder anyway, and combine that with being low a pint...

and I think I just answered my own question about why I'm exhausted.

I got this feedback on "Graveyard Shift," and wanted to share with my lovely betas (Connie, Elena, s.a., Trudy -- alphabetical order):

"Tell your betas they do an excellent job, there is nothing wrong with it."

So there you are. You do an excellent job. It's not just *my* opinion!

Well, of course.

What an odd bit of feedback. But I'm glad that we're doing right by you.

I'm thinking of answering ita's challenge about 'Widow's Pique'... I know that others are going to do so, but it'll be interesting to see the different stories. Especially given my personal slant on Willow.

Elena, DO IT.

And thanks for the kind words!

Here's a thought. Say four of us write a story about this. We put it all together, in four parts, with the proper headers, under the title. I think it would be cool.

Hmm. I like that idea, s.a.

Who's up for some of the next bit of Vamp!Giles? Assuming the host cooperates ...

"Should we be doing this here?" Xander asked Buffy.

"The Magic Box is a public place," she answered, keeping watch on both entrances. "Besides, his name's on the lease. We couldn't keep him out if we tried."

Xander traced a pattern on the top of the counter. "I don't know if I can do this, Buff. My brain is yelling 'Evil vampire,' but my--my heart is going 'But, it's Giles.'"

"I know."

After a moment, the young man put his arms around Buffy, who rested her head for just a moment on his shoulder. "You're nice to lean on. You've got good shoulders."

Xander blushed, and Anya, behind the counter, fidgeted unhappily. "My shoulders," she muttered. "Mine to lean on." But she didn't say it loud enough for anyone to make a fuss over.

At the table in the corner, Willow and Tara were holding hands. "We've got protection spells up," Willow said. "He won't catch us again."

"Thanks, Will."

"Though he is good," the red head mused further. "I mean, if he's doing summonings and negotiating with dark powers and expecting them to listen to him--" She broke off as Tara nudged her arm and shook her head.

Buffy wasn't listening anymore. Straightening from Xander's hold, she stared at the door. "Vampires. Two of them." She glanced at Xander, who drew back into a corner, where two loaded crossbows waited. Buffy pulled Mr. Pointy out of her pocket.

The knock on the door startled everyone. "Uh, come in!" Buffy called.

The door opened slowly. Spike scanned the whole room, marking everyone's location before stepping in. "Evening, folks."

"Spike, you knocked."

"Formal occasion, pet." He glanced around once more, then gave Buffy a questioning look. She stared at the doorway behind him, then nodded. Spike nodded to someone outside, then stepped in and to one side.

Giles appeared in the doorway and paused, likewise scanning the room. He wore blue jeans and a pullover under his leather jacket; behind the glasses, his expression was slightly apprehensive. Tara and Willow only met his eyes briefly, Tara looking nervous and Willow uncertain. Xander looked back for a moment, then divided his attention between the two vampires, his hand resting pointedly near the two crossbows.

Then he looked at the Slayer. She stared at him, her jaw muscles tight. "Hullo, Buffy," he said softly. Buffy blinked rapidly, then turned away.

Giles nodded to himself before looking at Anya. "Hello, Anya. I do apologize for abandoning you and the store like this."

The ex-demon stood back against the shelves behind the counter, out of the easy reach of vampires. "The distributors keep asking where you are. And then there's the bank. Life does go on, you know--well, at least for some of us."

Giles couldn't help laughing. "I've always admired your work ethic." He reached under his jacket. "This should make things easier." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Xander put a hand on a crossbow and the two witches raise their hands. He pretended not to notice and pulled out a legal envelope. As he handed it across the counter, he noticed the cash register--and the cross leaning against the cash drawer. Anya saw his gaze and raised her chin unrepentantly, then took the envelope.

"I've already sent copies to all the distributors and I called the bank," he went on. "You should be able to take care of anyone I missed."