buffy: trick of the dark chapter 7

8/3/2019 Buffy: Trick of the Dark Chapter 7

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Chapter Seven

Sunnydale

August 25, 2001

I guess that’ll do, Angel thought, eyeing the blanket that covered the window in Buffy’s bedroom. He’d tacked it up with push-pins, wrapping the top around the curtain rod. Buffy, like

Xander, had opted to do without curtains, the blinds providing enough of a screen for her. The blanket in question was an old quilt, dark green, and would probably block most of the light.

Angel could see by glancing in the living room that the sun had come up; luckily for him, Buffyand Xander’s apartment had a northern exposure, which at least at this time of day meant very

little direct sunlight.He sighed as he sat down on the corner of Buffy’s bed. Feels strange to be here without

her, he mused, picking up a grey teddy bear and holding it absently. Kinda glad Xander’s not

here though; I’d rather have the quiet. He ran his fingers over the soft downy hair on the dolland glanced about Buffy’s room. She kept the place pretty messy. Clean clothes hung in thecloset, but those in need of washing sat in a pile by her door. The bottom of her closet looked

like a graveyard of shoes and boots -- it was obvious she just kicked them off and let them fallwhere they may. He noticed an inordinate amount of decorations on the walls; posters, pictures,

and along one wall a cloth banner hung, adorned with artwork depicting a female samurai withlong, flowing hair and red armor. Angel didn’t recognize the artist. This place seems a little...

cluttered, he thought, noting the books that lay stacked up on the headboard: Sun Tzu sat next toa romance novel, and a battered copy of Tobin’s Spirit Guide stuck out from the other volumes.

Not your typical twenty year old’s room...not that I have much basis for comparison. He’d never seen Shelley’s bedroom, or Rachel’s; he remembered Willow’s room from a few years back, all

fuzzy and warm and tidy, much like the girl herself. Cordelia kept her new apartment spotless;her first apartment in L.A. had been a mess. But something told him that the spirited clash of

warrior and teenage girl that the entire room bore witness to was more than a tad unusual. Helooked over at her night stand and noticed a photo of Buffy, Willow, Oz, and Xander, more

recent than high school; Willow’s hair was longer, like she wore it now, and Xander had tried adisastrous flirtation with a mustache. Let it go, kid. You’ll be a man eventually. Stop trying so

hard. In the photo Buffy smiled widely, a UC Sunnydale sweatshirt adorning her as she held her arm around Xander’s shoulder.

He noticed behind it a photo of himself; that surprised him, because he didn’t think anyexisted. This had been taken at Buffy’s prom, and obviously, by the photo, not with his

awareness; he stared off to one side, a clean profile, looking uncomfortable and nervous, as he

had been that night. He saw himself in the tux and smiled ruefully; he wondered what Buffy sawwhen she looked at the picture. Better not go there, he warned himself. You’re gonna be here all day. Don’t start wandering down ‘what if’ lane now, or you’ll waste the whole day thinking

about Buffy instead of how you can help her. Not that thinking about Buffy would be a wasted day, but... Part of him wished she would come home, so he could spend time with her, preferably

alone; but his wiser half knew where that would lead, where that could lead, and he knew heshouldn’t go there. It would be so much easier if I were mortal, and I could get over her. But I

never can, I never will. I’ll just have this ache when she gets married some day, and then when

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she has her first kid. And I’ll still look the same when I visit her grave in the far off future somenight. It’ll still feel exactly like it does now, that pain and that knowledge that I can never, could

never have her. He set the teddy bear down on the bed. She’s human. And she’s young. She’ll get over me. She might not think so now, but she will.

He stood up, letting his breath hiss through his fangs. “She won’t if I keep coming back

here,” he told himself. Okay, it’s only my second time back, but every time I return here I tear the scab off that wound. We’ll have to be firmer with this staying away from one another stuff.She has to move on, and I have to stay away. For her good.

He sat back down on the bed. He knew it had annoyed Xander last night to have to invitehim in; he realized if it were up to Xander, he would, best case scenario, never show up in

Sunnydale again, and he was well aware that Xander resented having to let Angel in his home.But the explanation that this was preferable to staying at Joyce’s with Buffy made Xander happy.

He remained almost pathetically easy to manipulate. Xander loves Buffy and would do anything for her. That’s a good thing, especially as he becomes a more skilled hunter. But he needs to take

care of that blind spot. Someone could use that devotion to Buffy to work him into a corner and do some serious harm. And I can’t tell him about it, because he’d think I was trying to

manipulate him. Angel grunted. Everything was always so complicated with Buffy, because itwasn’t just her, it was this whole... family that she had. Willow, Xander, Oz... they’d all die for

her too. Even Giles would. That’s what makes her stronger -- she’s not alone. If the watcherscould only figure that out, the vampires would have it a lot tougher. Of course, if we don’t figure

out where that book is and get it back, the only one who’s gonna have it tough is Buffy.Angel closed his eyes in frustration. I should have listened better when Spike talked about

the Journal of Alaric back then. He was always so hung up on killing Slayers that he had aninterest in it, though thankfully a brief one. He didn’t know much about it, but then nobody did.

We looked for it for a while, but we never really got close; then he got bored with looking and wemoved on to something else. But he would talk about... He clenched a fist. What was it? Think! It

might jar something loose, and that might be what saves Buffy. Think... Alaric wanted to be rid of the Slayer, and he had figured out a way that it would work. And it had to be some thing Spike

could do. Or thought he could do. “Or I don’t know,” Angel muttered. “Maybe he only thought itwas something he could do. Spike basically used to think he could do anything.”

He stood up, pacing in Buffy’s room. Again his eyes were drawn to the sharp dichotomyin the decorations between warrior and girl, and he stared at the samurai woman for a spell. Long

dark hair fluttered in the breeze; a blizzard of cherry blossoms fell behind her, but she stoodready, a sword in one hand, the other clutching... I’ll be damned, Angel blinked in surprise as he

noticed the other hand held a stake. Red armor covered her torso in spots, but whomever theartist was had accentuated the female aspects of her body as well. It was a true melding of the

two. Like Buffy. Beautiful and yet incredibly deadly. To most vampires, anyway. He sighed. The middle section of the book had been written in Demonese. Spike would

be able to read that easily enough, though reading something that long and that uninspiringwould take him a while. Spike was no scholar. He probably wouldn’t enjoy all the ruminations

on the newfound power of our kind, either, Angel reminded himself. Spike’s really impatient. He’d probably get someone else to read it for him and translate, and...

“That’s it,” Angel spoke. “That’s it. Ethan has to have a vampire to read the middlesection of the book. Has to.” He stopped pacing a moment. “Wesley said he had a translation

key, but that would take too long. Ethan has to move quickly, because the longer he takes, the better our chances of finding him.” Angel nearly swore once again that they had so easily




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allowed Ethan access to such secrets. They may have some qualms about it, but if I catch the guy, I’m just gonna kill him. Buffy doesn’t need a guy like Ethan on her list.. She has enough trouble

as it is in her life. Angel folded his arms. What about that last language, the last part of the book? I didn’t

even recognize that. Not that I know every language on the planet, but... A thought occurred to

Angel. Wait a minute, wait a minute... Spike said that he and Dru would figure it out. He’d need Druscilla for something, for some part of it. Maybe for the last part of the book? Dru certainlydidn’t know Armenian; for that matter neither did Spike. So it must be something Dru knew. But

she was English, and...Angel moved to the phone, darting as quickly as he could around the occasional slim

shafts of sunlight that penetrated the living room shutters. He lifted the unit and examined thespeed dial list scribbled there. He punched number two -- Giles -- and stepped carefully back into

Buffy’s bedroom.“Hello?” Giles answered.

“Giles,” Angel rasped. “I thought of something. The book.”“Go ahead,” Giles spoke without preamble.

“Ethan’s going to need a vampire. He can’t translate that on his own.”A pause, then Giles said, “But he has Crowley’s translation key, and --”

Angel interrupted, “That’ll take too long. Ethan needs that text deciphered soon so wedon’t find him.” He shook his head. “But there’s more.”

“Go on,” Giles urged him.“The third part of the book, that section toward the end?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, do continue,” Giles told him.Angel sighed. “It’s written in some sort of magician’s language. Even I didn’t recognize

it at first. Alaric wrote the book so that you would need an Armenian, a vampire, and a magician.He was all three. He basically wrote the thing so that only he could read it.”

“That makes sense on a certain level, in case his enemies got their hands on the book, likewe did. But why him? Is he the only one who can perform whatever spell or ritual the book

contains?”Angel shrugged. “I don’t know. It almost looks that way. Maybe he had a pretty big ego.”

Angel thought for a moment. “Scratch that. I read the history part up front. He definitely had a big ego.”

“So Ethan is not a threat?” Giles asked. “That’s too conveniently easy.”Angel nodded. “I know. Maybe he’ll need all three -- an Armenian, a vampire, and a

magician.”“Ethan’s already a powerful magician,” Giles reminded Angel. “The Armenian shouldn’t

be very challenging, and that section isn’t terribly informative, unless we need to know Alaric’shistory.”

“We might,” Angel gauged.“Perhaps,” Giles admitted. “But if we assume the worst for the moment, that Ethan can

read the final section, then we should concentrate on the vampire part.”Angel frowned. “How do you plan on doing that?”

“The Slayer can detect vampires,” Giles replied. “It’s vague, I realize, but it’s a start.”Angel nodded. “I like it.”




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*“There she is!” Xander smiled as Buffy wandered into the kitchen, socked feet sliding

across the linoleum. Buffy had pulled her hair back in a sloppy ponytail, and stray locks shot up

in nearly every direction. She wore an oversized grey UCS athletic sweatshirt and dark blue

sweat pants, and the bruise across her forehead had turned purple; but to Xander she lookedsimply beautiful. “Morning, Miss ‘I always lead with my forehead.’” He took a swig of orange juice. “How are we feeling today?”

“You are feeling too happy,” she snapped back, pouting at him. “I’m feeling...” shetrailed off, hazel eyes darting around the room. “I’m feeling refreshed. Like I slept for twelve

hours.”“That’s cause you did,” Xander reminded her, stuffing most of a half-bagel into his

mouth.“Oh yeah,” she admitted. “It’s amazing what sleeping in your old bed will do for you.”

Buffy seated herself on a stool, watching Xander eat ravenously. “Is there anything left there,Genghis Khan, or did you devour it all?”

“Mmmhmmffh?” Xander tried to ask around a mouthful of doughy bagel.“Exactly,” Buffy replied. “I’ll help myself.” She glanced around. “Where’s my mom?”

Xander swallowed. “She went to the store. We were sorta runnin’ through her O.J. prettyquick.”

Buffy nodded. “We,” she echoed pointedly.Xander shrugged. “Some would say it’s bad manners to refuse hospitality.”

Buffy grinned. “And what would Xander Harris say?”“Xander Harris is more than happy to let your mom pamper me,” he informed her. “It’s

not like my mom ever did.”Buffy nodded, still smiling. One of the reasons she had agreed to move in with him was

because she knew about his terrible home life and she understood his desire to escape it. Neither of Xander’s parents abused him in any way, but from what Buffy could tell, they pretty much

ignored him. All the time. Not so hard to imagine why he hooked up with Willow, who kind of went through the same thing, though not so bad. Buffy had met Mrs. Harris exactly once, on

moving day. She hadn’t been able to tell if the woman actually had a pulse or not. She merely satwatching the television with such rapt attention she might have been stuffed. Buffy had resisted

the urge to speak to her, figuring that Xander had enough going on in his life at the moment thathe didn’t need to referee a squabble between his inert mother and his best friend. But a tiny part

of Buffy would always wonder if the woman would have even acknowledged her presence. Shedidn’t even say good-bye when Xander left for the last time. No wonder he’s so protective of his

friends, she mused as she watched him eat. We really are all he’s got. Xander noticed her watching him. “Not the ‘take human bites’ thing again, is it?” he

asked sheepishly.“Nope,” Buffy responded brightly. “Just thinkin’ that you don’t have to baby-sit me again

tonight. I’m comin’ home.”“So I can baby-sit you there,” he teased her, smiling.

“Don’t push it,” Buffy said lightly. “It’s a bump on the head, Xander. I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” he assured her. “Mmm,” he mumbled. “You should really try the Fruit Loops.Excellent vintage.”




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Buffy nodded. “Thanks. I’ll have some toast, I think.”Wordlessly Xander got up and took two pieces of bread to the toaster oven, placing them

inside and flicking the switch. He sat back down without missing a beat and resumed perusingthe funnies.

Buffy blinked. He didn’t even think about that. He just did it. “Garçon,” she teased him.

“Some juice would be good too.”Xander glanced up and reached over to the fridge, which he could reach from his seat if he stretched just a little, and fished out the orange juice. He poured Buffy a glass, returned the

juice to its spot on the door, and closed the fridge. “Anything else?”Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Are you waiting on me?” she half-teased him.

He shrugged. “Your mom took care of me, I take care of you. Just one big cycle of taking-caredness.”

Buffy furrowed her brow. “Who are you and what have you done with the real Xander?”He started to answer, but the toaster oven clicked its completion. Xander stood up, took a

plate with him, and moved back to the toaster, using a butter knife to free the toast and slide it onBuffy’s plate. He set it down on the table in counter of her, leaving the knife for her to use.

“Android duplicate or evil twin?” Buffy asked.Xander looked at her. “Huh?”

“The generally helpful behavior,” she pointed out.“Ohhhhh,” he muttered, following her gist. “Pod person.”

“That explains so much,” she deadpanned, flipping the lid off the butter. As she started tosmear some on her toast, Joyce came in the back door. For a fraction of a second, faster than

almost anyone else would have noticed, Buffy spotted Xander start to rise up and move in frontof her; when Buffy saw that he recognized who it was, he sat back down. She raised an eyebrow

for a moment. He really does look out for me. Geez. “Hello Xander,” Joyce greeted him. “How are you feeling, honey?” she directed at Buffy.

“Doin’ fine, mom,” she assured Joyce.“That bruise still looks pretty ugly,” Joyce pointed out.

“I thought it was a beauty mark,” Xander offered.Buffy gave him a look. “I heal fast, mom, but I’m not a miracle worker.” She shrugged.

“Should be gone by Tuesday or Wednesday.”“Feeling better?” Joyce asked, moving closer to Buffy to examine the purplish bruise.

“Tons,” Buffy answered her perkily. “A day of total mom-pampering does wonders for the body and soul.” Buffy smiled up at her mother. “Though Xander was a regular coddle-

meister while you went shopping.”Xander looked up from the paper. “What?”

Joyce shook her head and moved to the grocery bags, withdrawing a gallon container of orange juice and setting it on the counter. “He told me we were running low on O.J.,” Joyce

explained. “And he talked me out of waking you up.” She winked at Buffy. “I think you’re bringing out his parental instincts.”

Xander glanced at Joyce and then at Buffy. “You sure you got the bump on the head?” heasked.

“Nah,” Buffy said, looking away from Xander to her mother, “he just likes looking outfor me. It’s one of his better qualities.” She shot Xander a look. “One of his few redeeming ones,

I mean.”




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Xander gave her a long look, and Joyce patted him on the shoulder. “I think it’s sweet,”she said. “That’s what friends -- and roommates -- and, dare I say it, moms, are for.” She kissed

Buffy on the top of the head. “I don’t suppose you’ll be staying here tonight?”Buffy’s look responded for her.

“I didn’t think so,” Joyce sighed, but she smiled.

“Mom, you know I--”“Honey,” Joyce raised her hands, “I got one night out of you. I know when not to push.”Xander raised an eyebrow. “Ya think I could stay? The food’s a lot better here.”

Joyce chuckled. “No, Xander. Buffy needs her lookout back with her at the apartment.”She tilted her head. “Though the noise of other people being in the house was a nice change.”

“We could come visit more often,” Buffy offered.Before Joyce could say anything, Xander asked, “What time is it?”

Joyce pointed at the wall clock. “Nine-fifty.”Xander started to swear, looked at Joyce, and checked himself. “I have to be at work by

ten,” he shrugged, standing up quickly. “Mrs. Summers, thanks for the food and the couch andeverything.” He turned to Buffy. “You, purple-headed-girl, you take it easy. I’ll see you around

five.” Buffy threw him a mock salute. “Have fun waiting on the weekend architects.”

Xander grimaced. “Ugh. Give a guy a hammer and he thinks he’s Pancho Villa.”“That’s Bob Vila,” Joyce corrected him.

“Not at the store I work at,” Xander snapped as he slipped out the back door and joggedto his car. Seconds later both Buffy and Joyce grimaced as the squealing of tires sounded from

the street, and the unhealthy roar of a poorly-tuned engine drowned them out.“Tell me you don’t drive with him,” Joyce said, running a hand over Buffy’s hair.

“I make sure we leave on time,” her daughter offered, munching on her toast. “He’s not a bad driver when he gives himself enough time to get somewhere.” At her mother’s skeptical

look, she added, “Okay, he’s not that bad a driver.”Joyce sat down where Xander had been seated. “Honey, can I ask you something?”

Buffy continued wolfing down her toast. “Go ahead.”“You do know Xander has feelings for you, right?”

Buffy nearly choked. “Could you surprise me any more than that? I doubt it. You wannarepeat that, mom? Almost sounded like you said Xander has the hots for me.”

Joyce furrowed her brow. “I don’t know if I’d call it the hots, Buffy, but...” She pickedup a piece of toast Xander hadn’t gotten around to devouring. “He insisted on sleeping on the

couch in the guest room last night.”“The love seat?” Buffy asked. Yeah, bite me, irony.

Joyce nodded. “Yes. He said the living room was too far if anything happened. And theway he just sat and watched you when you were sleeping...”

“Mom, he was just concerned,” Buffy explained. “He thinks of himself like he’s my partner or something, and that makes him a little over-protective. But it’s cool.”

Joyce shook her head. “No, Buffy, I saw him. I saw the look on his face. That wasn’tworry, and it wasn’t even protectiveness. I know. I’m a parent, remember?”

“Graduated first in your class at parent school,” Buffy joked lightly.“He’s in love with you,” Joyce pressed.

Buffy squirmed in her seat. “Could we talk about anything else? I mean, literally, mom;anything else?”




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Joyce shrugged. “All right,” she relented. “I just thought that maybe it was time youstarted thinking about--”

“Mom,” Buffy said stiffly. “This is Xander we’re talking about.”Joyce watched her daughter for a long moment before she spoke. “You know, Buffy, I

see a young man who is willing to risk life and limb for you every night just so he can be near

you to make sure nothing ... evil gets its hands on you. I see someone who jumped every timeyou needed or wanted anything yesterday. And I see someone who is completely devoted toyou.” She put her toast down. “It doesn’t matter to me if this guy happens to be Xander. He’s

good for you.”“Mom!” Buffy exclaimed.

“It’s your life,” Joyce said. “I’m just giving you the benefit of my experience.” Shereached across the counter and clasped Buffy’s hand. “Don’t waste the best years of your life

trying to make it work with the wrong person, like I did with your father,” she said.Buffy squeezed her mother’s hand and closed her eyes.

*“You can turn around now,” Oz told Willow. “And unlock the door.”

Willow did both, smiling as she hugged Oz when he stepped out of the storage area.“How’d it go?”

Oz held her tight. “Not great. The place reeks of vampire. Which isn’t so bad when I’mlike this, but when I change...” He shrugged. “It’s not a good place to be.”

“Then let’s go,” Willow suggested. “It’s a gorgeous day out there. We might as wellenjoy it. We won’t have too many Saturdays before we’ll have to spend them doing homework,

and then we won’t be able to take advantage of them.”“Sounds like a plan,” Oz replied. “You have anyplace special in mind?”

Willow broke off the embrace and locked the door to Giles’ storage area. “I thought we’dget some breakfast in you, and then maybe a ride down to the beach.”

Oz raised an eyebrow. “The beach. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that usually entails bikinis.”

Willow smiled warmly. “You’re not wrong.”He snapped his fingers. “I left mine home.”

Willow chuckled. “We’ll stop and get it. Because you’re not gettin’ mine.”“I don’t want yours,” Oz murmured. “You should be the one having yours. Wearing

yours.” He paused. “Is it the red one?”“Nnnnt-nnnn,” she mumbled negatively. “You haven’t seen this one.”

He took her hand and led her toward the stairs. “We can fix that,” Oz suggested.Willow laughed as they made their way upstairs and outside. “I like you this time of

month,” she mumbled as they kissed briefly. “I mean, it’s a bummer that we have to spend thenight apart, I don’t like that. But it’s like something in you just sort of goes into another gear to

make up for it.”“It’s a wolf thing,” Oz nodded. “And it’s definitely in that other gear right now.”

Willow raised an eyebrow as they neared the parking lot. “Should we skip breakfast?”Oz considered this as he unlocked the door. “We’ll do drive-through.”

Willow grinned. “Hungry and in a hurry,” she teased him.“I have my priorities,” he countered her, grinning, as he started the van.




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“Ooh,” Willow mentioned as Oz backed the van out. “That reminds me. Priorities.”He switched the van into neutral. “You don’t have to lecture me about studying, Will. I

know. It’s early in the semester, I have the chance to do well. I’m there. Prepared to achieve.”Willow patted his hand. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Cool. So what did I interrupt?”

“Well, when you were... you know, doing the wolf-thing last night, I started looking intothe Chapel,” she relayed. “I couldn’t look up anything on Alaric, because the book’s stillmissing, and there’s very little in the police records about Ethan.”

Oz frowned. “Doesn’t your conscience occasionally chime in with a little twinge of guiltover all this illegal hacking?”

“Not if we’re doing it for a good reason,” Willow responded. “And no reason is better than helping Buffy.” She looked out the window for a moment, noticing that the van wasn’t

moving. “Why?” she continued. “Does it bother you?”Oz shrugged. “We’re gettin’ kinda cavalier about it, that’s all. I trust you to do what’s

right, but if you justify everything you do you erase too many lines.” Oz brushed a long strand of hair from her cheek. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Are you worried that we’re making excuses for stuff too easily?” Willow asked him.“Not yet. Not really. But someday maybe we’re gonna have to decide just how far we

wanna go to protect the people we care about. We may have to start lookin’ at some of the lineswe have to cross to do that. That’s all.” He blinked. “End of sermon. Burger King okay?”

Willow exhaled, still occasionally -- like now -- caught off guard by Oz’s ability toswitch topics so quickly and completely. “BK is fine,” Willow assured him.

Oz started driving. “So, what’d you find out about this mysterious Chapel place?”“Well,” Willow began, “it was one of the first places the Mayor had built when he

planned out Sunnydale. For years it just stood alone on the top of a hill, apparently. Then slowlythey built the university around it.”

“So it’s someplace special,” Oz nodded. “Magic?”“I’m not sure,” Willow confessed. “The weird thing about it was, there are no

construction records or contracts for it. The place seems to have sprung up on its own. Nobody inthe construction business worked on it, yet every morning more of it just appeared.”

“And we know what night work means this close to the Hellmouth,” Oz volunteered.“Right,” Willow agreed. “The place was built by vampires. But there’s more.”

“I’m all ears,” Oz told her. “Though thankfully not the furry pointy ones at the moment.”Willow grinned at his joke. “I checked the records, and according to the University files,

the Chapel never actually has ever been open.”Oz slowed down at a light. “In a hundred years?”

Willow nodded. “No one has ever used this building, as far as the records can tell, for anything.”

Oz chewed on that. “Mayor built it for after his ascension?” he wondered aloud.“That’s a good bet,” Willow agreed. “Stone untouched by human hands wouldn’t be

polluted with our energies and our auras. The place would practically be an amplifier for demonic power.”

“And Sunnydale’s the perfect spot for one of those,” Oz commented, accelerating as thelight changed. “So what’s next?”




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“I have a little more research to do,” Willow spoke. “But I think one of these days we’regoing to have to get past all the “don’t go here” construction signs and see what the place really

is.”“How?” Oz wondered. “Can’t go during the day. We’d be spotted.”

“Certainly can’t go at night,” Willow muttered. “That would be asking for trouble, and

we already have enough of that.”“I’m with you,” Oz agreed.“Maybe we could ask Angel to help us,” Willow suggested. “He’s immune to most

demonic stuff.”“Buffy too,” Oz put in. “That stuff doesn’t spook her.”

Willow frowned. “She needs to heal,” she fretted.“Will, Buffy’s had a lot worse than this. She can go. In fact, I think if we even mentioned

it around her, she’d volunteer herself.”“Then we won’t say anything for now,” Willow instructed him. “Will we?”

Oz wagged his head back and forth. “I don’t know, Will. I--”“Just how bad do you want to see my new bikini?” she queried.

Oz looked over at her. “Now you’re playin’ dirty.”She nodded.

“Just an observation,” he clarified. “Not a complaint. I can be quiet on this topic if youlike.”

Willow smiled widely. “Good.”

*

Giles hopped up from his chair and moved to answer the door. You never know who it’s going to be, lately, he thought. It could be any number of people on the other side of that door.

Buffy, with an update on how she’s feeling; Willow and Oz, with some helpful information about Alaric, because Lord knows I haven’t discovered any; even Xander, with...well, with good

intentions, hopefully. Giles frowned. With my luck, it will be him, wanting to know something annoying or stopping by because he’s bored. “Now Rupert,” he told himself in a whisper as he

reached for the knob, “give the boy some credit. I’m sure he can find many less boring thingsthan you to occupy his beautiful Saturday afternoon.” Giles opened the door and began to speak,

“What can I do for you, Xan--”He stopped, seeing Cordelia standing on his doorstep, holding a book.

“You’re not Xander,” he muttered.Cordelia arched an eyebrow. “And you’re not blind. Not completely, anyway.” Cordelia

handed him the book. “Here, this is another moldy old book that you guys seem to get all excitedabout.” She frowned at him. “Don’t you have any of this stuff on computer?”

“It’s good to see you too, Cordelia,” Giles deadpanned.Cordelia stared at him for a second. “What, nobody told you I was coming?”

“It’s been rather busy here,” Giles explained.“Oh, tell me about it!” Cordelia agreed. “I had to go see a teacher because I hadn’t been

selected for his course. Can you imagine that? Someone not picking me for a communicationscourse?” She furrowed her brow. “So what if some dopey senior needs that course to graduate --

he should have thought of that before his senior year.”Giles tilted his head. “How remiss of him.”




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“Exactly,” Cordelia concurred. “I got in the class anyway, but I mean, come on, people,turn your brains on when you go to college! Like isn’t that the whole point of going in the first

place?”“Cordelia,” Giles interrupted.

“What?” Cordelia asked. “Why the look?”

Giles took a long, deep breath, dismissing the first several comments that popped into hishead. “Thank you for the book. Be sure to thank Pike as well.”“Oh,” she said. “Sure.” Then she stood up on her tiptoes and peered around him. “Is

Angel here?”Giles adjusted his glasses. “I’m afraid he’s not,” he replied. Thank God for small favors.

“Do you know where he is?” she asked. “He owes me some money.”Giles blinked for a moment, and then he remembered overhearing the conversation

between Angel and Cordelia where the vampire had resorted to bribery to ensure Cordelia’sdelivery services. “I’m sure he’s good for it,” Giles assured her.

“I’m sure he is too,” Cordelia nodded. “But since you guys are about to go up againstsome evil nasty thing, I figure I might as well get paid now, in case something happens to him.”

Giles gave Cordelia a long look. “Your confidence in his abilities is staggering.”“Hey,” Cordelia told him, “I’m a realist. You guys have been way too lucky way too

many times, and sooner or later one of you is gonna make a mistake and wind up very dead. AndI don’t want that to be me. My life may not be any big shakes right now, but it’s better than not

having it.”Giles shook his head. What, aside from the obvious, did Wesley ever see in this self-

centered, spoiled, annoying, vexing little girl?“I mean, you can relate,” Cordelia said, snapping him from his reverie. “You weren’t

always, ‘hey, I wanna be a Watcher.’ You used to be pretty wild when you were young.”Giles blinked. “I suppose I was, at that.” He paused. “Cordelia?” he asked.

“Hmm?” she replied.“Is, is there any point to all of this?” he wondered.

“You got your book,” she reminded him. “That should give you a major happy.”Giles arched an eyebrow. “Indeed.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Angel is, would you?” she asked. “I mean, he hassomeplace to stay, right? He’s not like hiding out in some dank smelly sewer or something, is

he?”“Normally he stays here,” Giles informed her, “but we had Oz in...” He stopped. “He’s

over Buffy and Xander’s.”“Total pass on that place. Could they need maid service any more? I don’t think so.” She

tapped her nails against her bare thigh. “Is Wesley here?”“Wesley’s been recalled by the Council. He’s gone home to England.”

Cordelia frowned. “He didn’t even call me.”Giles nodded in what he hoped was sympathetic fashion. “He was rather busy, and it all

happened very quick.”Cordelia huffed, “Okay, what about Xander, then? Is Xander...” she stopped. “Well, he

wouldn’t be here. That boat he drives is gone.”“He spent the night at Buffy’s house, if that’s any help,” Giles offered.

Cordelia stamped her foot. “Again with the Buffy!” she snapped, and then looked over atGiles, her dark eyes flashing anger.




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“It wasn’t my idea,” he told her, holding up his free hand. “Though it might end up beinga good thing he and Angel didn’t spend all night together.”

“Hmph,” Cordelia frowned, folding her arms. “Would you happen to know where he isright now? I think I need to teach him a lesson.”

“Cordelia,” Giles began, “I hardly think you--”

“Do I tell you how to tell Buffy all about dark nasty things? Do I sit here and tell youhow to do your icky research?”Giles stood back. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re damn right I don’t,” Cordelia spoke. “So don’t tell me how to deal with the menin my life. Or the men not really in my life. Or whatever he is. Or isn’t.”

“I wouldn’t presume to--”“Do you know where he is?” Cordelia repeated.

Giles told her, “If memory serves, he’s at work.”She rolled her eyes. “Oh, great. DIY. Like I would want to be caught dead there. Hello,

Mr. and Mrs. ‘I’m so boring I work on my yard on the weekend’ homeowner.”“I’m afraid I have to take a look at this book,” Giles put in before she could complain any

further. “Thanks very much again.” Noticing he had momentarily caught Cordelia flatfooted,Giles closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief.

Cordelia spun on one two-inch heel and raised an eyebrow, slipping her sunglasses on. He stayed the night at Buffy’s house, huh? Okay, Xander Harris, I’m gonna make you regret that

little move...By the time she reached the little CRX her face already wore a wide smile.

* Los Angeles

Cory hesitated at the edge of the driveway.Victor, sensing she had stopped, turned to face her. “What’s wrong?”

Cory took a deep breath. “I’m crossing a line here, Victor.”He extended his hands. “What line?”

“You know very well what line,” she told him. “Up until now, I’ve indulged you with allthis.. this... stuff you play around with. Ghosts and ghouls and vampires and all that. I’ve let it

slide because you don’t let it interfere with work and because... well, it seemed harmless. Andoccasionally what you do say about all of it makes a certain sort of sense. But this...” She shook her head.

“Cory, we’re just gonna give them a head’s up on the inquiry they asked us to run.” Hefolded his arms. “You’ve done favors for friends before. What’s with all the reluctance?”

Cory pointed to Shelley’s house. “If I walk in there, Victor, I admit that all of this is real.That there are vampires. That these people hunt them. All of it. I admit -- no, I accept the world

is like that. That it’s not normal and it’s filled with all sorts of things we’re better off notknowing about.”

“You can’t hide from it, Cory,” he spoke quietly. “You’ve seen vampires here and there -- and you saw what happened when they’re killed.” He took a step toward her. “Ignorance isn’t a

weapon. It’s a deadly blind spot. The vampires won’t go away if we ignore them. We have tofight them.”




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Cory frowned and shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do this, Victor. You’re askingme to commit to something I’m not sure I can.”

Victor reached over and took her hand. “Just come meet these people, okay? Just sit andtalk to them, and you tell me if you think they’re crazy. And if you do...” He paused. “Cory, I

swear I will never say another word about it around you. How’s that?”

She nodded, very reluctantly. “Okay. I’ll try it.”Victor smiled, letting go of her hand and leading her around the back of the house.“They’re really nice once you get to know them.”

Cory hmphed. “Nice vampire hunters.”Victor shot her a warning glance, and she raised her hands. “Sorry, Victor. Let’s go.”

They turned the corner to the back of the house and stopped. Shelley stood on the porch,alone, moving through a kata with a staff. Her long hair tied off in a ponytail, she whirled the

wooden staff with such speed and precision that it caught Victor and Cory by surprise. Shelleymoved through the rest of the kata as if she were unaware that she had an audience; swiftly she

thrust, stepped, parried, lunged, hopped forward, all the while whirling the staff at a blur. Whenat last she had worked her way through the entire exercise, she let out a long, deep breath and

turned to face them.“Victor,” she greeted him, slightly winded. She hopped over the rail lightly, her feet

making a quiet slap as they landed on the concrete. “You must be Cory,” Shelley said, extendinga hand. “Victor’s told us a lot about you. Thanks for all the help you’ve given us.”

Cory shook Shelley’s hand. “That’s a pretty mean staff you wield there.”Shelley shrugged. “Thanks. But I’m a long way from being skilled.”

Cory folded her arms. “You look pretty good to me.”“Thank you,” Shelley said. “So, what brings you two out here on your day off?”

Victor replied, “We ran that name you gave us through the system.”“Ethan Rayne?” Shelley asked.

Victor nodded.Shelley held up a hand. “Hold on. Lemme go get Pike.” She thrust the staff down on the

concrete and hopped up over the rail on the porch, pulling the staff after her as she headed intothe house.

“Shelley’s a little bit of a show off,” Victor muttered.Cory raised an eyebrow. “If I had that kind of skill, I’d show off too.”

Victor nodded in agreement.“So where’s this Rachel girl you’ve been seeing?” Cory asked.

“Two dates is not ‘seeing’,” Victor responded.“Don’t hold out on me, Victor,” Cory whispered as the screen door opened again. Rachel

stepped out and smiled, waving. “Hey, Vic.”“Racquel,” Victor said, stepping up on the porch. “Good to see you.”

Rachel grinned. “Back atcha, big guy. What’s up?”“Rachel, Cory. Cory, this is Rachel.”

Cory followed him on to the porch and shook Rachel’s pale hand. “Nice to meet you.Victor won’t tell us much about you.” She smiled.

Rachel lowered her sunglasses. “Keepin’ me a secret, huh?” she asked.Victor shrugged. “Cops can be so nosy,” he muttered.

Cory rapped him on one arm; Rachel tapped the other.“Hey!” he protested. “I’m gettin’ double teamed here!”




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“We’ll talk later,” Rachel stage whispered.Cory nodded. “Count on it.”

Victor shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinkin’, bringing you over here,” hetold Cory.

“You were thinking I could help you with this Ethan character,” she reminded him.

“Ah, yes,” Victor nodded. Before he could add to that, however, Pike and Shelleyemerged from the house. After introductions had been made, they all sat down around the patiotable; Shelley extended the large umbrella that stood in the middle.

“So,” Pike began. “Ethan Rayne. Fill us in.”“From what you told me,” Victor admitted, “I expected to find more. The guy’s record is

really clean. He got a few reprimands while he was at Oxford, no arrests. He spent eighteenmonths in jail in San Diego for trafficking some sort of hallucinogen in Sunnydale.”

“The candy bar incident,” Rachel filled them in. “When all the adults thought they werekids.”

Cory frowned. “Really?”Pike nodded. “I don’t know how he did it, but Ethan concocted a chemical that returned

people to the mindset of their youth. Sounds neat, but watch your mother act like a teenager andsee how creepy it all is.”

Cory glanced at Victor. “Okay...”“Anyway,” Victor continued, “he was released three weeks ago, and as far as we can tell,

he headed straight to Sunnydale. If your suspicions are correct, he abducted that girl -- FaithWilkins -- and he also robbed that magic store, the Dragon’s Cove.” Victor glanced at each of

them in turn. “That’s all conjecture, though. You realize we have no evidence of that. Far as wecan tell, he walked out of the prison and simply vanished.”

“What about a parole officer?” Shelley asked.“Douglas Blaylock, worked in conjunction with the San Diego P.D. Went on extended

medical leave two days after Ethan was released,” Cory supplied.“That’s fishy,” Rachel suggested.

“Fishy,” Cory admitted, “but circumstantial. Even if we do put out an APB, the best wecan do is bring Ethan in for questioning. We can’t hold him on anything.”

“Kidnapping Faith,” Pike suggested.“Not if she’s with him willingly,” Cory corrected him. “Which we don’t know, but her

record is really shady.”“Maybe we should focus on her,” Shelley suggested. “Even if Ethan slinks away,

depriving him of a Slayer would be taking a major weapon from his arsenal.”Cory looked over at Victor. “I thought you said that Buffy girl was the Slayer.”

Victor nodded. “There are two now.”Cory pursed her lips. “Right.”

“He stole the book from Giles’ apartment,” Rachel offered.“Are we certain of that?” Cory asked.

All of them nodded. “It would be worthless to anyone other than a vampire, and vampirescouldn’t get in Giles’ apartment,” Shelley informed her.

Cory mulled that over. “Can this Giles report it as missing?”“Not in Sunnydale,” Pike told her. “The police pretend there’s nothing going on. They’re

worthless.”




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Cory glanced at Victor. “There’s no way we can claim jurisdiction that far away. I don’tsee how we can help you.”

“There’s gotta be something you can do,” Rachel challenged them. “If we can get thecops looking for him, then they might spot him, and Buffy can move in and deal with him.”

“What about not meeting with his parole officer?” Victor suggested.

Cory sucked in air through clenched teeth. “That’s pretty thin when the parole officer goes on medical leave. It’s worth a try, I guess, but more than likely S.D.P.D. will tell us to mindour own business.”

“What if I report the book as missing?” Pike queried.“It’s not yours,” Victor reminded him.

“Sunnydale P.D. doesn’t have to know that,” Pike replied. “I can report it here, and youguys can start the ball rolling.”

Cory nodded. “Okay, not bad. But it begs the question, ‘Why would you think he’s inSunnydale?’ Why not any other of a hundred places?”

“They have this nice little gallery down there that specializes is rare old artifacts,” Pikegrinned. “It’s called the Summers Gallery. I’ve dealt with them before. I think Ethan may try to

sell it there, so I think he’s in Sunnydale.”Victor flashed a smile at Cory. “It’ll work. It’s not rock solid, but it’ll start us.”

Cory raised an eyebrow. “I’m impressed,” she admitted. “Okay, Victor and I will get onthat tonight. If this Ethan guy is as dangerous as you say, I don’t know that we want regular

police officers taking him on.” She furrowed her brow. “Did he really do that to the adults? Turnthem into teenagers?”

“Mentally,” Shelley answered her. “Not physically.”Cory shook her head. “Weird.”

“You think that’s weird, you should hear what he did this one Halloween,” Rachel toldher.

*Still yet another someplace else south of Sunnydale

Ethan shook Faith’s shoulder. “Time to wake up,” he spoke gently.Faith’s big brown eyes popped open. “I’m here.”

“Now you are,” Ethan smiled. “It seems our visitor is coming ‘round.”“Johnny Fangs?” Faith asked.Ethan snickered. “Just so.”

Faith sat up, rubbing her eyes. She looked across the hotel room, where the vampire sattied to a chair, and then glanced at the window; the curtains had been pulled closed so not a

speck of sunlight entered the room. Ethan moved to the drapes and sat in a chair there. Faithremained cross-legged on the bed.

“I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here,” Ethan announced.The vampire revealed his hunting face. “I’m gonna guess it has something to do with the

fact that she’s a Slayer.”Ethan nodded his head. “And you would be wrong.”

The vampire hissed, “Enlighten me, then, Watcher.”Faith chuckled. “Him? I doubt it.”




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The vampire stared at Ethan, and then turned his gaze to Faith. “So who is he? Your daddy?”

Faith reached for a bottle of water. “Not gonna work,” she said, popping the cap andtaking a long sip. “You’re the one tied up in the chair. I’m not gonna get all pissed and kill you

or anything stupid like that, so even tryin’ that is game you can skip.”

Ethan offered, “This can be a surprisingly easy arrangement. I need something translated.You can play along like a good little undead and do what I ask and we can all go our separateways amicably, or you can be obstinate and we can make your life a living hell.” Ethan slid the

drapes open an inch, and Faith recoiled as a shard of bright sunlight stabbed the room, leaving athin line along the carpet on a few inches from where the vampire sat. “If you refuse, or resist too

much, we’ll just throw you outside. You won’t last very long on a nice, sunny day like today.”The vampire’s eyes slitted. “Translated?” he asked, blinking in the wash of the harsh

sunlight. “Why me? I’m no genius.”“You’re smarter than I thought if you can admit that,” Ethan admitted. “This particular

work I have in my possession is written in the language of demons. I can translate it myself, butit will take a great deal of time, and as you’re well aware, time is always a precious commodity.”

He folded his arms. “The faster you translate this book, the faster you can be back among your blood-sucking brethren again.”

The vampire inclined his head toward Faith. “And she’s okay with this arrangement?”“Five by five,” Faith told him.

“But you’re a Slayer,” he hissed.Faith sneered. “That would be ‘ex’ Slayer,” she explained. “I’m more into freelance

violence and petty crime these days.”“Whatever you’re doing, it’s not paying the bills,” the vampire hissed. “You look like a

stick figure.”Faith nodded her head. “I could still kick your ass, dead boy. But we need you to take

care of this little book thing. Once that’s done...” Faith stood, walking over to him. “You wannago one on one out in the parking lot, that’s fine by me.”

“Faith,” Ethan remarked sharply.“What?” she asked, shaking her head. “When you’re done with him, E.”

Ethan made a face. “To hell with that. You’re standing. Solidly. Unaided.”Faith glanced down at her bony legs, sticking out from beneath long denim shorts; they

supported her weight without even the least little wobble. “No shit,” she muttered.Ethan rose from his chair, smiling. “That’s remarkable. Even this morning, you were...”

he stopped, glancing at the vampire. “It’s great,” he finished quietly.Faith gave him a wide smile. “Ice cream tonight?”

He nodded. “As much as you can stomach.”Much to his surprise, Faith moved over to Ethan and hugged him. “Thanks, man,” she

mumbled.Awkwardly, stiffly, he slid an arm around her slender shoulders. “You’re quite

welcome,” he assured her in a low voice.“Touching,” the vampire growled, his smile showing his long fangs. “So where’s this

book?”“Eager to help?” Ethan mocked the vampire.

“Eager to get out of this little love shack,” the vampire retorted. “Sooner I start, sooner I part.”




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Ethan withdrew his arm from Faith’s shoulders. “The book is right here,” he told thevampire, sliding another chair in front of him and placing the journal of Alaric in front of him.

“Now, the procedure is very simple.” He started to open the book.“Hey!” the vampire interrupted him. “Close the drapes first. You open a book written in

my language in direct sunlight, it’ll catch fire.” He shook his head. “You stupid or what?”

Ethan gestured, and Faith moved to close the drapes. “Like my friend explained amoment ago,” Ethan hissed, “we will not be provoked into doing anything rash. I’ve put a lot of time and effort into this and one moron vampire isn’t going to ruin it, or even slow me down. But

just because I require your services does not mean I will tolerate being spoken to like I’m somekind of lesser being.” Casually he reached down and grabbed the vampire’s left pinkie. “And just

to make sure you don’t forget that,” he warned, snapping the digit with a loud POP, “just keep inmind you have nine other fingers.”

The vampire glared up at him, fangs bared. “When I get free, I’m going to drink youdry.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Ethan responded. He moved to the book and opened it up,turning to the section in the middle written in Demonese. “You read aloud, and I’ll type into the

laptop. Sounds simple enough, no? Think you can handle it?”“Ready when you are,” the vampire snarled.

“Do begin,” Ethan enjoined him.“Ish naz naggak bozh krimpatul, nizhgan koth soggoth nagh hasthu thlinngan

naggash...”

*Sunnydale

Xander closed the door on the side of the minivan and smiled. “Thanks so much for

shopping DIY,” he told the middle-aged man.“Hey, thanks for your help,” the man replied, fishing out a five from a roll of bills held by

a silver money clip.Xander shrugged. “Thanks, but we’re not allowed to accept tips.”

The man stuffed it in Xander’s shirt pocket. “Then don’t tell anyone I gave it to you.”Xander brightened. “Good idea. Thanks, man.”

The man nodded and smiled, getting into the minivan. Xander turned and guided theflatbed cart back toward the delivery entrance, whistling tunelessly. Wonder if Buffy will be up for patrol tonight. Hope I don’t have to hang with Angel again. He shuddered. Ech. Don’t’cha

just wish he’d have a really bad accident with a sharp piece of wood?

Xander stopped to let a car pass by, then he moved across the traffic lanes. As he neared

the door, Gary, a teenager who for some reason Xander couldn’t fathom looked up to him,moved past two men examining the picket fence display and sidled up to Xander. He bobbed up

and down as he walked, chewing his gum with intensity. Xander had seen this behavior before;Gary always got jittery when a pretty female came into the store.

“Lemme guess,” Xander drawled. “Jordana from your biology class came in.”“Here?” Gary squeaked. “No way. She’d never come here. Like I could be that lucky.”

He tugged on his earring. “No, this is better.”




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“Better than the co-ed of your dreams?” Xander teased. “Oh, it must be Miss Flowers.”Every Saturday afternoon, a rather robust young woman with a curtain of blond hair and a

penchant for tiny denim shorts came in, always moving directly to the gardening area andlingering about a half hour while filling her cart with all sorts of gardening tools and supplies.

Often the guys in the back jockeyed to be the one who would escort her to her Lexus and help

unload the cart. Xander usually let one of the other guys go. I live with Buffy. It’s not that I’mimmune to the Playboy Bunny-esque charms of Miss Flowers, but hey... I live with the babe of the county. Only fair to let the other guys lap at her heels for attention.

“Nope,” Gary creaked. “It’s not her. This is somebody new.” He put his hands in his pockets briefly, then fiddled with his earring again. “Never saw anybody like this.”

Xander smirked. “Yeah, yeah.” He patted Gary on the back. “Come on, let’s get youinside before you vibrate yourself into a puddle.”

Gary moved ahead of Xander eagerly, reminding the older man of a puppy. “You gottasee her, man.”

“Okay, okay,” Xander agreed. “Hey, it’s not like I’m above cruisin’ the store so I can getto eyeball some hottie chick,” he reminded Gary.

“Knock yourself out,” Carlos, a recent graduate of Sunnydale High, told him. “She is onefine lookin’ woman.” He gave Gary and Xander a thumbs-up. “She’s over near seasonal.”

Xander held his hands up. “Calm down, boys. Xander is here, and he will decide exactlywhether she’s worth all the hoopla. Be right back.” He smiled. “I think it’s time I checked the

inventory out in seasonal.”Xander breezed through the double doors that led to the sales floor and took an

immediate left, skirting down the side wall, past racks and racks of wooden trim and panelingwhere few shoppers ever loitered. Just my luck to be on my way to see some primo hottie and

Grandpa will stop me to ask about some stupid pine baseboard or something. He stopped brieflyto arrange a display of cedar planks more neatly in their cubby hole, and then he continued on

past pallets full of peat moss and all sorts of other lawn additives -- how many different types of dirt do you need? -- and slipped around the corner by the patio furniture. He glanced about,

seeing a young couple whose two toddlers stumbled around aimlessly. An elderly woman dozedon the wooden park bench they had erected as part of the display. Nothing exciting here, he

mused, wondering if he’d missed her, when suddenly something coming around the corner caught his eye. Something tall, statuesque, and red.

Xander blinked as he took her in; long, shapely tan legs rose up out of bright red pumps,and a tight, brief pair of red leather shorts clung to her backside. A tight red short-sleeved

sweater hugged her torso, and her arms were folded in front of her. Xander couldn’t see her face, but her long mane of chestnut-brown hair looked promising. Unless she’s got a total dog-face,

the guys were right to be all hot and bothered. He ran a hand through his hair. Not like I have achance with anything looking like that, but what the hell. I can always talk to her. It’ll be fun,

and it’ll make the guys totally jealous.He took a deep breath and moved up the aisle toward her. He took a moment to run his

eyes over her form again -- coming at her from the back, she wouldn’t catch me ogling her anyway -- and he stopped about three feet behind her. “Anything I can help you with, ma’am?”

Xander asked in his professional voice, the one he used with customers when the boss wasnearby.

The woman turned around, a wide smile on her face. “You sure can, stock boy.”




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Xander blinked, then blinked again. “Cordelia?” he blurted. “What the hell are you doinghere?”

Cordelia arched an eyebrow. “What do you think I’m doing here?” she snapped,smirking. “I’m thinking about buying a little gnome for my garden. What does it look like?”

Xander tried to make a tart comeback but found his voice wouldn’t cooperate. Which was

okay, because his brain hadn’t come up with anything terribly sharp to say. Or even anything tosay, really.“You think you could help me with that, Mr. Slayer wannabe?” Cordelia wondered,

giving him a look like the ones she used to give him when they would sit at Inspiration Point inher daddy’s car.

Xander took a deep breath to try and offset the heat he felt creeping into his ears and the back of his neck. “I could sure try,” he wheezed. “What do you have in mind?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Cordelia answered, sighing. “I was thinking maybe something alongthe lines of a guardian gnome.”

Xander told his body to breathe. “A guardian gnome?” he echoed weakly.“Yeah, you know, some tiny little toad who just hangs around making sure nothing bad

happens to me,” she cracked. “He really wouldn’t be much good at keeping me out of danger, but he’d feel good about it.”

Xander felt a slice of anger intrude on his haze of lustful confusion. “Well, he might not be the ideal bodyguard, sure. But at least he’d try to help any way he could, instead of, say, just

checking himself in the mirror all the time.”Cordelia narrowed her eyes. “Well, you know how gnomes are. They have this whole

insecurity thing about size. So they make up for it in other ways.”The rest of Xander’s lust dissipated away. “At least garden gnomes know their place in

the world and accept it. They don’t make a big production about leaving the garden and thenreturning all the time.”

Cordelia scowled. “For your information, I was helping Angel. You know, the guy whoBuffy is still in love with, instead of you?”

Xander blanched as if she’d hit him. “Hard to believe you’d do something that wasn’t justfor yourself.”

“Hard to believe you’d even notice something that didn’t directly involve Buffy.”Xander shook his head. “You can not still be jealous of Buffy.”

Cordelia balled her fists. “Oh, please? Me, be jealous of Buffy?” she asked him. “Likethat could even happen.” She poked him on the chest. “At least I don’t go falling for dead guys.

At least I have a life.”“Buffy has a life too,” Xander replied. “And it’s a really important one. At least she’s

doing some good for other people.”“Like I’m not?” Cordelia responded. “You guys aren’t the only people who fight

vampires, you know. And Pike and Shelley don’t have a Slayer to fall back on.”“Cordy,” Xander sighed at last. “Is there a point to any of this? I can’t believe you -- even

you -- would drive all the way down here from L.A. just to yell at me.”“And I’m supposed to be self-absorbed?” Cordelia snapped at him. “I would never come

all this way just for you. I had a book to drop off with Giles.”Xander nodded. “And I suppose the leather shorts are for Giles too? Or did you think

Wesley would be there?”“Ah ha!” Cordelia exclaimed. “Now who’s jealous?”




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Xander rubbed his forehead. “I’m not jealous of Wesley. You never explored the back seat of your daddy’s car with Wesley.” He smiled.

“And you never will with Buffy!” Cordelia growled.“Maybe,” Xander allowed. “But I’m not the one parading around like a hooker for my

ex-girlfriend.”

“No,” Cordelia agreed, “you’re just the pathetic little lapdog who slept at Buffy’s feet lastnight. Did she take you for a walk when she woke up this morning?”Xander held his tongue for a moment, grinding his teeth. How the hell does she know

about that? “Answer me something, Cordy: is it just Buffy you’re jealous of, or is it the fact thatI’m showing interest in someone other than you?”

Cordelia laughed. “Get over yourself! Like I would even want your interest.”Xander stepped closer. “You know what I think?” he asked her.

“Not a hell of a lot, apparently,” she quipped.Xander ignored her. “I think you finally realized that finding someone who would put up

with you was a lot harder than you thought. And you can’t stand the fact that I won’t comechasing after you again, just because you decided this week it might be a fun thing for me to do.”

Cordelia clenched her teeth. “I really hate you,” she hissed. “I mean, really, really, really hate you, Xander.”

“Funny,” he muttered. “I would have thought exactly the opposite.”“Yeah, well, what you don’t know about me could fill a library.” Cordelia spun around

and left, striding off quickly, long legs carrying her outside into the sunny afternoon. She weavedthrough the cars to her CRX and hopped in, slamming the door shut. She started the car and took

off quickly in case he followed, but a glance in the rearview mirror as she exited the parking lottold her that he hadn’t even tried to catch up to her.

The tears didn’t start until she stopped for the first traffic light.

*“You’re sure?” Willow asked, her coffee poised half-way between her face and the table.“Yeah,” Oz replied, staring out the window. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Willow told him softly. “If that’s how you want it.” So much for the beach, shemulled. I knew we shouldn’t have stopped home to get Oz’s bathing suit. I should have just

bought him one. She sighed. What, Del, you couldn’t have called Oz later? Like after the beachand the bikini and...

“Has nothin’ to do with what I want,” Oz told her. “Not this time. We might be able toreplace Devon, but with Del gone too...” He shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the Dingoes any more.”

“You could start your own band,” Willow suggested.Oz continued glancing out the window. “I guess.”

“I’ll help, if you want. Place ads, make up flyers -- whatever you need. I’ll even sit in onthe auditions with you if that’s cool.”

He turned away from the window and looked at Willow. “I love you,” he said, his voicesoft and serious. “I’m not good with all the other stuff that comes after that, about how much you

mean to me and all, but you should know that I feel it. All of it. Even the part with the kids andthe dog.”

Willow set her coffee down and leaned over the table and kissed him. “I love you too,”she told him. “But a small dog, okay? The big ones get so pushy.”




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Oz clasped her hand. “Sure.”She squeezed his thumb. “You wanna talk about it some more, or...?”

“Not much else to say,” he murmured. “The Dingoes are dead. Del got a gig doingsession work, Devon’s gonna be a Cannibal. I’m the Oz man out.”

“Oz,” Willow began, “you don’t have to --”

He shook his head. “It’s okay.”Willow gave him a puppydog look, her lower lip scooting out just a bit.“All right. But it will be okay. I still have what’s really important to me.” He entwined

his fingers in hers. “I can get another band.”“Damn straight,” Willow smiled. “I’m sure they’ll come knockin’ at your door once you

advertise.”Oz tilted his head. “I dunno about that. They might have heard me play.”

Willow leaned over and kissed his hand. “Silly,” she spoke, “that’s why they’ll audition.”Oz remained unconvinced.

Willow sipped on her coffee. “Ready to go?” she asked.Oz looked down at his partially eaten BLT. Usually the sandwiches at Fagen’s Deli

perked him up, but today, with the news of the break-up of the band, it would take more thanwhite bread and a few slices of bacon to wipe away any melancholy. “Sure.”

Willow finished off the coffee and stood up, never releasing his hand. She left a dollar onthe table and led him outside, toward his van.

“You got someplace in mind?” he wondered.Since the mood for the beach is pretty much shot, she thought, Willow offered, “You

know the university parking lot off Vine Street?”“Veen?” Oz echoed. “I always thought that was pronounced like the beverage. You

know, like Hollywood and.”“Most people do,” Willow agreed. “That’s how it looks. But there aren’t any terrible

demons whose names are pronounced ‘vine.’ There is one mentioned in the Burks Catalog that issupposed to be a king, and he goes by ‘Veen’. So I’m guessing the mayor was talking about him

when he had the street named Vine.”He blinked. “Sometimes you confuse me.”

Willow frowned slightly.“S’okay,” Oz continued. “It’s the good ‘how the hell was I lucky enough to end up with

her?’ kinda confusion. Not the type you get with a Rubik’s Cube.”Willow tugged on his hand as they neared the van. “I solved mine,” she smiled.

He kissed her. “Why is that not a newsflash?”They released hands so Oz could let her in the van, and he followed. Starting up the

vehicle, Oz muttered, “Veen, huh? Okay... I guess we could take Wilkins most of the way there,then hang that left toward the parking lot.”

Willow nodded. “Sounds good.” She gazed at him. “You sure you’re okay?”“I’ll be all right,” Oz confirmed. “Nice to have a distraction, though. Thanks.”

Willow reached over and touched his nose. “Anytime. But this is more than a distraction.This Chapel may be dangerous. We very well might be the first humans who ever set foot inside

it.”“I thought we agreed the Chapel was a place not to go.”

Willow gave him a look. “It’s during the day. The sun’s out. If it starts getting creepy,we’ll take off and leave the rest to Angel.” She took his hand. “You did want a distraction.”




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Oz shrugged. “I’m thinkin’ table tennis would have done nicely.”“Oz!” she laughed as he steered the van out into traffic and headed toward Wilkins

Boulevard.“Just be careful,” he admonished. “I know you. Curious and intelligent is a dangerous

combination.”

“Moi?” Willow asked, arching an eyebrow. “I’m a big ol’ scaredy-cat when it comes tothings like this. You know that.”Oz hmphed. “Yeah, until you just can’t stand not knowing something. Then you’re all

Nancy Drew gotta find things out, nevermind how dangerous it can be.”“Hey, I--” Willow began to protest.

“Getting captured in the Mayor’s office?” Oz reminded her.Willow pouted. “That was an accident,” she protested.

“Accidents happen,” Oz spoke. “I just don’t want them happening to you.”“They won’t. I told you, if anything even remotely creepy happens, we’ll take a hike,

right away. Not even stopping to ask questions or take samples.”Oz nodded. “Gotcha, Scully.”

Willow gave him a scolding look which faded when confronted by his half smile.The drive took little time. The university campus hosted far less traffic on Saturday than

during the week, at least before football season started the following weekend. The lot proved to be free of charge on days where there were no classes, so they parked and made their way across

the street, hand in hand, toward the tree-lined hillside that led to the Chapel. The slender stone path that ostensibly led to the building had been blocked off, not only with yellow police tape,

but a flimsy wooden barricade.“Hop the wall?” Oz queried. The low stone wall that ran along the sidewalk discouraged

students and other pedestrians from trampling on the well-kept lawn, but it hardly qualified as anobstacle to those determined to give the Chapel a closer inspection.

Willow nodded. Oz looked around but saw little foot traffic. He helped Willow over thewall, and then he nimbly hopped over, landing in the ankle high grass silently.

“They need to give this place a trim,” Oz murmured.Willow nodded. “Let’s head for the path. It’ll be a little faster.”

Oz agreed, and, taking her hand again, he led her toward the slim stone walkway thatwound around the trees and finally vanished behind a row of bushes. They had taken maybe half

a dozen steps when a deep voice sounded, “Hold it right there!”Oz and Willow stopped.

“Turn around,” the voice spoke.They complied, only to see a member of Sunnydale’s finest staring at them behind mirror

shades. “Didn’t you kids see the sign that said, ‘Do not enter?’”Willow nodded. “Yes, officer, but--”

“Did you have any reason to suspect that didn’t apply to you?”“No sir,” Willow managed.

The officer folded his arms. “Then I suggest you go back the way you came, before Ihave to charge you with trespassing. Now, I don’t think your parents would like that, would

they?”“No, sir,” Willow agreed. She and Oz made their way down the stone path and past the

policeman, who watched them but said nothing further. Oz helped Willow over the wall again,




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and then he climbed after her. They continued holding hands but said nothing on the short walk back to the van. Oz let Willow in and seated himself.

“Weird,” he said.“What’s that?” Willow asked, exhaling. “God, I was so nervous.”

“Where’d he come from?” Oz queried. “I didn’t see any cops before we hopped that

wall.” Willow shrugged. “Maybe he was watching us from some hiding place.”Oz frowned. “Maybe,” he admitted.

Willow gazed at him. “There’s a but coming.”“But...” Oz supplied. “Okay, then why was he wearing a police coat from the sixties?”

Willow furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”Oz started the van. “Devon used to wear this old police jacket he got at a thrift store that

was former Sunnydale PD. He said it was from the late ‘60’s.” Oz put the van in reverse. “Thisguy’s jacket was exactly the same -- bulkier collar, gold buttons, the whole nine yards.” He hit

the brakes, looking at Willow. “Something’s not adding up here.”Willow nodded in agreement. “I’ll say. Giles?”

Oz sighed. “Giles.”

*

“We’d best hurry,” Wesley advised Jill. “It will be dark soon, and this place is known to be frequented by vampires.”

“No kidding?” Jill snapped back. “Look, Wes, I told you I would need your help with backstory and profiles, and I will. But I did read all the area reports that you and Giles filed.” She

led him across the street. “I’m not stupid, you know. I do my research.” She led him into Willy’s bar.

An old man sat at the far end of the bar, running his finger along the edge of an emptyshotglass. Willy glanced up but said nothing as Jill and Wesley entered the bar. He seemed not to

recognize either one, but in Willy’s defense Wesley had dressed abnormally. A white t-shirt, baggy khaki shorts, and a loud-print Hawaiian shirt, left open, replaced his normal much more

formal attire. Jill had also taken the liberty of replacing his normal glasses with blue tintedgranny glasses. The downside was that he couldn’t see as well, but the upside was that no one

would recognize him from even a short distance away. Wesley had naturally complained abouthis change in costume, but Jill had reminded him she was the head Watcher on the case now. For

her part she wore a white tank top and black jeans.Jill moved over to the old man. “Here’s fifty dollars,” she told him in a low voice.

“Leave.”The old man pocketed the Grant and left hastily.

“You,” Jill spoke to Willy. “What’s news?”“There’s a little problem here,” Willy admitted. “See, I don’t know you. And lookin’ like

you do, that is definitely wrong.”Jill nodded and grabbed Willy’s shirt. “I’m a goddamn Watcher, Willy. I don’t take shit

from snitches -- I give it to them. Now tell me what I want to know or I’ll let our hunter divisionknow the vampires have a human contact in Sunnydale. See how you like dealing with them.”

“Okay, okay, geez, relax, miss attitude,” Willy told her. “I’m not lookin’ to make anyenemies.”




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“Too late, “ Jill warned him. “Now talk.”Willy rubbed his nose. “Nothin’ much is goin’ on. Angelus is back in town, but he seems

to still be a good guy. No one else of any consequence.” Willy eyed Jill’s frame. “‘Cept you.”Jill made a face as if she had bitten a lemon. “Not if you were the last slimy bartender on

Earth, Willy.” She released his shirt and asked, “Anything weird happen lately?”

“Weird?” Willy repeated.“Anything out of the ordinary, such as it is, here in Sunnydale,” Wesley ventured.Jill and Willy turned to look at him.

“Now him,” Willy began. “Him I believe is a Watcher. You? You’re way too sexy. Andtoo American.” He turned to Wesley. “That Limey accent is a dead giveaway, Jeeves.”

“Limey accent?” Wesley echoed.Jill held up a hand. “Later,” she admonished Wesley. “Willy, talk. Anything weird.”

Willy bit his bottom lip in thought, eyeing Jill. “Twenty bucks.”She drew her pistol with lightning reflexes and pointed the gun at his forehead. “You get

to live.”“Deal. Somebody captured a vampire last night.”

Wesley and Jill looked at one another. “What?”“You heard me,” Willy assured them. “Captured. One’a my regulars found the remains of

a ward circle in the park. You use them to summon demons, conjure incubi, and --”“We know what they’re for,” Wesley interrupted.

“What the hell would anyone want with a vampire?” Jill asked.Wesley leaned close and told her, “Ethan might need one to translate the Journal of

Alaric.”“You said he had the translation key,” Jill whispered back.

“A vampire would be faster,” Wesley suggested.“So, Ethan did this. Fine.” She turned to Wesley. “He have any friends, this missing

guy?”Willy shook his head. “He was new to town. A loner named Logan. I think he’s been a

vamp for a while. Not sure. He only came in once.”“You got any way we can track him?” Jill asked.

“Not without another vamp, no, and there’s no way they’d work with you two,” Willyadmitted.

“Would they do it for you?” Jill queried.Willy shrugged. “I’m Willy. Nobody does anything for me.”

Jill raised an eyebrow. “I’ll give you five hundred bucks, and maybe a little somethingextra, if you can scare up someone who’ll help us out.”

“Cash up front,” Willy demanded.Jill smiled. “Not all of it.” She slapped two fifties on the bar. “That’s a start. Find

somebody who’ll do it, you’ll get the rest.”Willy pocketed the hundred. “How do you know I won’t just keep the dime and not ask

around for you?”Jill shrugged. “You want the other four hundred. Greed’ll keep you honest. Honest

enough, anyway.”Willy nodded. “So, hey, where can I find you if I scare up somebody?’




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Jill winked. “We’ll find you,” she told him. “Come on,” she said to Wesley, “let’s leavethis place before we catch something.” She walked out of the bar, Wesley following close

behind.“Do you really think he’ll find a vampire who will help us?” Wesley asked.

“It’d be nice, but I doubt it,” Jill replied. “But that’s not the point.”

Wesley frowned. “Then what is?”“Word will get around the vampire community that there’s a human holding a vampirehostage. Vampires don’t take kindly to that. That’ll stir up the vampires and get them all edgy.

Now, if we luck out, one of them leads us to Ethan Rayne. And if we don’t get so lucky, we’vegot the vampires on the move again, and that will preoccupy Buffy and increase our odds of

finding Ethan first.”Wesley blinked. “You’re devious,” he mumbled.

Jill nodded, a slight grin on her face. “Thank you. You should try it some time. Might doyou some good.”

He frowned at her. Smug Americans.

* Los Angeles

“Can I get you anything else?” Shelley asked.

“This is fine,” Sam Zabuto answered, holding up the coffee mug. “You’d be surprisedhow hard it is to get good coffee in L.A.”

Pike nodded. “We get this Hawaiian Kona blend. Thirty-five dollars a pound, but worthevery penny.”

Shelley sat down next to him. “Says he. Rachel and I don’t drink coffee.”Pike smiled. “All the more for me.”

“So, Mr. Zabuto,” Rachel queried, “what brings you here? We don’t get to see you allthat often.”

“The loss is mine, I assure you,” Sam told them. “I’d rather keep you a secret from theWatcher’s council just yet. You never know when we’ll need a back-up source of information, or

a place to hide someone.” Sam shrugged. “I hate to say this, but it’s getting so that everybodyhas to have secrets.” He put the coffee down on a coaster. “This one, though, I have to share with

you.”He sat back in the overstuffed chair. “Our friend Wesley Wyndham-Pryce is missing.”

“Buffy’s Watcher?” Rachel asked.“Buffy’s ex-Watcher,” Shelley corrected.

Rachel nodded. “Right.”

“That’s him. He was supposed to be home by now, but he never made it. A quick check on his flight shows he never boarded it in L.A. Now, either he’s gone renegade -- which is reallyunlikely for him -- or he’s been kidnapped.”

“Ethan again?” Pike wondered.Sam shrugged. “I doubt it. What for? Ethan doesn’t need him. He already has Wesley’s

laptop.” Sam swore softly. “Do you know how many passwords they had to change today soRayne wouldn’t have access to the Watcher’s Council database? What a pain in the ass.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Shelley admonished.




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“Better to get my hands on Ethan Rayne and wring his neck,” Sam muttered.“Take a number,” Rachel grumbled.

“So...” Pike asked, “aside from alerting Giles and Buffy, what should we do?”“Just generally remain alert, I guess,” Sam told them. “I’ve already called Rupert, so

there’s no need to do that.”

Pike nodded. “Sounds like this is all getting pretty serious, with Ethan and the journal andall.” He glanced at Shelley. “You think Buffy needs any help?”Sam tilted his head. “I think it’s safer to wait until asked. Rupert’s a smart man, not a

proud one. He needs us, or you, he’ll call.” Sam sipped at his coffee. “Besides, I have somethingelse I need to ask you.”

“What’s that?” Shelley inquired.“A short time ago you participated in a little ambush on the beach. Angel told me that

involved a vampire named Kragan. Are you absolutely certain that was who it was?”Shelley nodded. “I saw him. He matched the description in the guide.”

Sam stroked his chin. “Hmmmm.”Rachel prompted, “What? What with the hmming?”

Sam spoke, “I was researching a little piece of jewelry known as the Eye of Agrimattorecently, and--”

“Agrimatto,” Pike blurted. “That’s the name of the demon who inhabited Alaric.”“That’s right,” Sam agreed. “Anyway, I traced this amulet to a vampire named Tomaric,

who had been in Vegas until a few weeks ago. Then he simply disappeared.”“Had a run in with something sharp and woody?” Rachel ventured.

“Probably,” Sam conceded. “But I’ve recently learned that he had been contacted bysomeone who wanted to purchase the amulet from him.” Sam frowned. “Just before he died.”

“You think he was double-crossed?” Shelley wondered.“It’s a distinct possibility,” Sam concluded.

“So what does this have to do with--” Rachel began, but Sam held up a hand.“My contact also told me that Tomaric was planning on meeting up with Kragan.”

Shelley frowned at Pike. “The book and the amulet both were made by Alaric, or Agrimatto, whichever,” she mentioned.

“Exactly,” Sam agreed.“So what does the amulet do?” Pike queried.

“It allows the bearer to find the Slayer, unerringly, no matter where she is or where shehides.”

Rachel scowled. “I don’t like the sound of that.”“It gets worse,” Sam told them. “Some writings say that this amulet can also detect

potential Slayers too. Alaric wanted to kill every single one of them, if he could, it seems.” Samset the coffee down. “He spent almost four hundred years doing the research.”

“So what you’re saying is, whoever has this amulet can find Buffy,” Pike told him.Sam nodded.

“And identify Slayer candidates,” Shelley added.“So this guy Alaric, he wanted to, like...” Rachel trailed off. “What, make himself into

some kind of Slayer slayer?”Sam nodded. “Exactly.”

“Like an anti-Slayer,” Pike murmured.Shelley gripped his shoulder. “Could someone else use the amulet?”




“Anyone who knows how to activate it,” Sam replied.“I bet the instruction manual would be in that journal book,” Rachel suggested.

“So it’s only a matter of time before Ethan’s gonna go looking for it,” Pike said.“Or Faith,” Shelley added.

“If Ethan gets that amulet, and figures out how to use it, there’ll be no telling what

irreparable harm he can do to the Slayer -- and any potential future Slayers.” Sam frowned.“Alaric wanted to tip the scales in the favor of darkness forever. Ethan Rayne may end up beingthe tool that does so.”

* * *

buffy: trick of the dark chapter 7

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