"We've been over this, Xander. Hume's Chronicles. It's an 'H'. It goes between 'G' and 'I'," he paused, bemused with himself, and waited for the boy's retort.

"Right. I actually passed kindergarten." Xander shelved the book and sighed, moving and flopping down on the couch.

Giles raised a curious eyebrow. "What's wrong with you today?"

Xander took a deep breath and leaned back into the couch's fabric, sagging slightly. "Well, let's see," he drawled, beginning to check off items on his fingers. "Willow's still all weird from Oz leaving. Buffy made me bury the icky green demon from last night, which I might add, was not only hard physical labor, but stinky. *You* think I don't know the alphabet, and I'm going to be a little short on cash this month for rent," he paused for a breath and continued in a mimicky voice, "Because 'I don't thrust enough.'"

Giles choked on his tea and spit some back into the cup. "Excuse me?"

Xander turned a bright red shade and looked quickly away. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Giles looked amused. "Thrust?"

"No power on this earth will make me elaborate."

Giles raised his head in understanding. "Oh, that. The male stripper thing."

"That? What do you mean 'that'? Hey! What do you mean 'male stripper'?"

Giles grinned slyly. "Buffy told me about her suspicions with you and your, ah, summertime employment." Xander sputtered indignantly. "I didn't realize it had carried on, mind you, but I can see why. There's a lot of money to be made if one can, uh, thrust enough."

Xander folded in upon himself defensively. "I need to get in on that Watcher-Slayer confidentiality thing." An idea occurred to him, and he turned pale. "Does - does Willow know?"

Giles smirked.

Xander zoned in on a part of Giles' speech and narrowed his eyes. "Wait! What do you mean 'there's a lot of money to be made'?"

It was Giles' turn to blush. "I, uh, I'm, no comment." He folded his arms across his chest in a gesture of finality.

Xander made a face of distaste. "Giles! Please, for the love of God, tell me you didn't so I can get past this mental picture!"

Giles stared at him evenly, the ire rising in him quickly. "Would it be so inconceivable that once upon a time I was not only sexually active, but very attractive to women? Would it be so hard to believe that I had to support myself while going to Oxford, and I capitalized on some of my attributes to do it? Would --?"

Xander clamped his hands over his ears and began humming to drown out the rest of Giles' rant. He waited until he saw Giles' mouth stop moving before removing his hands from his ears. "Look, Giles, I know you had the Ripper thing going in college, and I know you were a bad ass - but the idea of you being all Austin Powers-y and working your mojo naked in front of a gaggle of women just makes me --- queasy."

"It was the seventies, not the sixties, and I would appreciate it if you didn't use the word 'queasy' again in regards to my, uh, mojo. And don't try 'nauseous', either," he warned, cutting Xander off before he could speak.

"But-"

"Xander!"

"Okay! So you did the thing and you made some money, no biggie," Xander conceded.

Giles let the Ripper come to the surface with a twinkle in his eye. "Not just 'some' money. A lot of money."

"Giles! Please! You're like the tweed god! I know you like to excel in everything you do, but get a grip on reality!"

Giles leaned forward slightly, the twinkle in his eye becoming almost menacing. "How much do you make in an evening?"

"I don't thrust enough, remember?"

"Before they said that," Giles pressed. "Your best night. A Saturday, perhaps. How much?"

Xander felt suddenly insecure under Giles' intense interrogation. "That's … none of your business."

Giles leaned back, satisfied. "Thought so."

The testosterone challenge hung in the air between them for a few seconds before Xander rose to take the bait. "Thought what?"

"I was better than you," Giles replied, a smug smile on his face.

"Yeah, right!" Xander exclaimed in protest.

"I never got chastised for 'not thrusting enough'," Giles pointed out.

Xander blanched and opened and closed his mouth rapidly, speechless.

Giles chuckled deeply in his throat. "The Ripper was the best stripper in London. Women came from all over England to see me." He quirked an eyebrow. "If you'd like, you can show me what you do, and I can give you some pointers."

Xander blushed and stood quickly. " I have to go. *Now*."

"Xander, with my help, you could make enough money to cover your rent shortfall at your next appearance-"

Xander had grabbed his jacket and was heading for the door. "Not listening!"

Giles stood and tried to think of something to say to help Xander. The dark-haired boy had his hand on the doorknob when Giles' next words stopped him cold. "I used to make three hundred pounds a night. That's about six hundred dollars. In the seventies, no less."

Xander whirled around. "Listening now," he said, striding back over to Giles.

Giles smirked at his reaction to the sum.

"What do I do?"

"Show me what you do now, and I'll tell you where to improve."

"Got it. Draw the blinds."

Giles moved around the room, drawing the blinds and curtains, watching Xander out of the corner of his eye with an amused smile. Xander was hopping from foot to foot, moderating his breathing and rolling his neck, limbering up. Giles sat on the couch, waiting for the boy to begin.

Xander put his hands on his hips and looked at Giles. Giles waited patiently. "Whenever you're ready," he said encouragingly.

"Music?" Xander replied. "Do I get some music?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Giles murmured, moving to his stereo and turning it on. He crouched over his album collection, flipping quickly for a few moments before selecting a record. He put it on the turntable and let the needle drop, moving back to the sofa as they waited for the music to begin.

The insistent beat of a disco tune filled the apartment, and Xander struck a pose before turning to look at Giles in confusion. "Brick House?"

Giles shrugged. "I used to dance to 'Mr. Big Stuff' by Jean Knight, but I lost that record some time ago." He motioned for Xander to continue. "Forget the words, Xander, just concentrate on the beat."

Xander nodded and breathed deeply, psyching himself for his performance. With a sudden jerky movement, he began dancing and wiggling at Giles. Giles tried to hide an amused expression. Xander stopped abruptly again. "I saw that look, Giles! I'd like to point out that it's not you getting naked here!"

Giles sighed and stood. "Okay, I understand you're nervous. Let's try this. I'll move, and you imitate me, okay?"

Xander nodded curtly, moving over to give Giles more room to move. Giles bent his knees slightly and began gyrating his hips in a slow, circular motion. Xander tried to imitate him, but it took a few seconds to find the same rhythm Giles had demonstrated.

"See how you thrust forward with the downbeat of the music?" Giles asked. Xander nodded in response. "Good, no matter what, don't miss that downbeat."

Xander nodded again in reply, continuing to move as Giles instructed. "Now what?"

"Now, you unbutton your shirt. Slowly, there is no rushing in stripping. They're waiting for you, you're in control." Giles unbuttoned his top button and paused to flex his back muscles at his imaginary audience. Xander copied his movements, keeping the downbeat motion going. "Excellent," Giles praised. "Now once you've got the buttons undone, you flip the shirt like this." He folded the shirt across his torso, leaving his chest and shoulders exposed. He rocked his hips and rubbed the fabric against his chest and stomach. Xander mimicked his movements.

"You know, G-man, this even feels kinda naughty."

Giles grinned wickedly. "Then you're doing it right."

Finally, Giles ripped the shirt from his waistband with great flourish, taking the garment and rubbing it between his legs briefly before tossing it to their invisible audience on the sofa. Xander pulled the shirt from his jeans waistband, wincing when he heard the rip of fabric. "Damn, I liked this shirt." Giles motioned for him to continue, so Xander yanked the remains of the shirt from his jeans and rubbed it against his crotch, flexing his chest muscles once or twice for good measure as well.

"Show off," Giles muttered, moving to the zipper on his pants. "Usually, I was wearing pants with snaps. Do they still use those?"

Xander shook his head, continuing to dance and follow Giles' movements. "It's the nineties, Giles. Velcro's the thing."

"Velcro. Of course. Billions of dollars invested in NASA gained us Tang and Velcro." He sighed and shimmied back and forth in front of his couch. "I'll pretend I have Velcro then, now you get the top undone, and then you would normally either rip the pants off with gusto, or slowly slide them down, teasing your audience."

Xander looked at Giles. "I'm not wearing Velcro and neither are you. Let's try this the old-fashioned way."

Giles nodded, and turned his back to the sofa, winking flirtateously over his shoulder. He wiggled the pants loose, and began sliding them down, inch by inch, thrusting his hips the whole while.

Xander copied his movements. "This is so much better than what I had," he admitted.

Giles ignored his comments and continued dancing. "Now this is the most important part. The part where you collect all the money you've earned." He danced closer to the couch, shaking and rocking seductively at the sofa. "You have to move slowly, let them place their money in the band of your outfit."

"At this point, there isn't much outfit left."

"But what you do have is enough to tantalize their imaginations. Use it."

Xander enticed his imaginary audience, slowly rolling his hips at the couch, while winking and licking his lips slowly.

"That lip licking, it's a good touch," Giles said admiringly.

Willow huffed up the stairs to Giles' apartment, carrying a heavy bookbag over each shoulder. "Could you drop off a few books?" she mimicked in Giles' voice. "Only two or three…. Pounds each!" she added at the end. "I know they're trying to keep me occupied, but this is too much!"

She finally reached his door and raised a weary hand to knock. She could hear disco music loudly playing from within. She knocked lightly, too weak to forcefully rap on the door. She waited a few moments, and cocked her head, listening. She could dimly make out voices mingled with the music - it sounded like Giles and Xander. She sighed and tried the doorknob, relieved to find it unlocked. She pushed open the door, and instantly dropped both book bags.

Xander was in his underwear, dancing and swaying his hips towards Giles, who was sitting on the couch, also in his underwear, calmly tucking dollar bills into Xander's waistband. "You move away too fast," Giles complained, trailing a dollar bill over the bulge in Xander's underwear.

Willow dimly noted that they were both wearing bikini briefs - Xander in red, and Giles in white - before making a strangled squeaking noise.

Xander and Giles looked up, surprised. They both blushed, and stammered in their haste to explain.

"Don't want to know!" Willow exclaimed, turning and running into the night.

Xander sighed. "If all women react that way, I'm still going to be poor."