“This. Is. The. Best. Day. Of. My. Life!” Xander practically squeals as the excitement of where they are hits him. “This is so freaking cool!”

“It may be many things Xander,” Giles says, frowning under the glare of the suns, “but ‘cool’ is not a word I would have used.”

After a moment’s silence, Tara speaks up, “Um, hey guys? This is cool, but don’t you think it might be a good idea to, you know, get out of the sun before we get heatstroke or something?”

“Get out of the suns, you mean,” Xander adds with a grin, with an emphasis on the “s.”

“Yeah, it is getting kinda hot,” the witch’s girlfriend says, grimacing in discomfort.

“Yes, that would be quite a good idea,” the group’s watcher says, clearly the most affected by the heat and anxious to get under the shade. “And there might be someone in that town how can help us figure out how we got here.”

After another moment’s silence, during which the Scoobies all nod their heads in agreement, Giles speaks up again, gesturing towards the town. “Well, shall we?”

*******

After arriving to the outskirts of the town, the gang headed right to the first bar they could find, hoping to find someone with information there. Inside, they grab a table and start trying their luck.

“Damn it. That one looks exactly like a Mynor demon. You’d think it would speak something similar to the Mynor language,” a dejected Giles mutters, slumping back into his chair. He had picked out a couple of the bar’s occupants that he thought looked like demons he recognised, and approached them using the appropriate demonic language. All he got back were blank stares.

“Well, they’re not demons Giles,” Xander corrects him, his voice low as if he was afraid some of the bar’s occupants would be offended, “They’re aliens.”

“Some demons are aliens,” Tara adds helpfully.

“Maybe I could try Klingon?” Xander suggests. “I only know a couple of words, but…”

Sighing, Anya rolls her eyes before joining the conversation. “You’re going about this the wrong way Giles. You need to be more direct. Like this.” She then gets up, stands in front of their table, and shouts loudly, carefully pronouncing each syllable, “Does anyone here speak English? My friends and me need help.” She gestures at herself and the table with the rest of gang, illustrating her point.

The small bar falls silent as everyone turns to look at them.

“See,” the ex-vengeance demon says proudly, “That wasn’t that hard.”

Her smile falters though, as the bartender turns and glares at them, before speaking in a heavily-accented English. “If you want to harass my customers, you better buy a drink first.”

Still trying to smile, Anya turns to her friends, and asks quietly, “Does anyone have any money?”

*******

Having been promptly kicked out of the bar, the Scoobies regroup under the shade of a doorstep nearby to figure out their next move.

“Of course we need money!” Anya proclaims testily, as if it they all missed the obvious. “Does anyone have any space dollars?”

“Credits,” her boyfriend corrects automatically.

“Huh?”

“Credits,” he clarifies, “It’s the money they use here.”

“Ah. So, does anyone have any credits?” The ex-demon asks hopefully.

When everyone shakes their heads, she sighs dejectedly. “Well, we need to find money somehow, or we’re never going to survive this place. Hey, maybe we can get Buffy to mug an alien!”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Giles says in exasperation, removing his glasses to wipe them, “We aren’t mugging anyone. Alien planet or not, we should still hold ourselves to a certain standard. And I’m sure they have laws against that.”

“Oh, hey, I have an idea!” Willow jumps up excitedly, waving the soccer ball she’s still carrying around. “Maybe they have a market or something and we could try selling this.”

“That’s a good idea,” her girlfriend adds in support, before digging into her pockets. “Do we have anything else with us that we could try selling?”

As everyone starts rummaging through their pockets, Giles notices that Buffy, still seated on the ground, looks rather uncomfortable.

“Are you okay Buffy? You’ve been rather quiet.” He asks tenderly.

“Hm? Oh, um, yeah,” she replies. “It’s just that since we got to town, my slayer senses have been, like, super tingly. It’s like I can feel everybody in town.”

Concerned, her watcher kneels down to make sure she’s really okay. “You can feel everyone? Could you be experiencing a relapse from the time when you were infected by those psychic demons?”

“No, I don’t think so. It’s not like that. It’s different. Different feelies.” Looking a Giles, she tries to reassure him. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. It’s just a little overwhelming at first. Let’s just make sure we don’t stay in this town too long. I don’t trust it.”

“That might be the best idea I’ve heard all day.” Standing back up, and reaching out a hand to help his slayer up, he turns to the rest of group. “Well then, let’s go find a market.”

*******

It didn’t take long for the Scoobies to find the central market in town. Once there, they split up to go around peddling what few items they have on them. After a couple of hours, they meet back on the edge of the market, to pool together the few credits they had been able to earn.

“Can you believe it?” Anya shouts out in disbelief. “This one alien gives me a few credits for the bills of American dollars I had. So, obviously I sell them, because I don’t suppose they’ll be much use here. But then he eats them! Right in front of me!”

“He… ate them?” Her boyfriend asks, not sure if he’s understand properly.

“Yes! He ate them. He ate the dollars! Don’t aliens have any respect for money?”

Sharing the stories of what they were able to sell, it turns out Willow’s soccer ball brought in the most credits. “I wish I had more balls,” the redhead sighs.

“I don’t,” her girlfriend whispers back to her cheekily, earning a blush, while the rest of the gang tries to decide on a plan.

As they stand around and argue, a tall, lanky alien walks up behind Giles, and taps him on the shoulder. Turning around, and feeling very much out of his element, the watcher snaps. “What? Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something here?”

Raising its hands, the aliens quickly apologises. “Ah, sorry, sorry. But meesa like your jacket. Meesa want to buy it from yousa,” it adds, pointing to the tweed jacket Giles was still carrying around. “Meesa want to buy it!” He then offers them a price more than triple the credits they’ve already accumulated.

“What? No. You can’t…” Giles starts to protest, before relenting under Anya’s harsh glare.

Watching the alien saunter away happily, wearing the tweed jacket, the watcher sighs in indignation. “That was my favourite jacket.”

“Well, it was either that, or have Buffy mug someone. And I think he pulls of the ‘stuffy tweed look’ nicely,” Xander says, taking the chance to mock Giles.

“Well now that we have some money, why don’t we try another bar?” Buffy asks, hopefully. “Maybe we’ll have better luck finding someone with information there?”