Curious Demons
{ G | Anya/Giles, Buffy/Spike }
| podfic available |
written by request for appotamoxco
*
The rain snaked through the sewers, pounded the pavement, streaked the windows on this ominous night in Sunnydale. Ethan Rayne jangled his chains as he tugged at his Initiative bonds. Tall-and-buff glared silently at him, a mild sneer curling his upper lip.
Ethan sunk petulantly back in his seat, already plotting his grand escape from these brainless American soldiers…
Brakes screeched. Glass shattered. The van tipped on its side, tumbling the passengers within the hold.
“Bloody hell!” Ethan yelled. His eyes widened as the sound of tearing metal deafened him. The paddy doors wrenched open, revealing the silhouette of a dark, wild demon.
Guns fired, bodies fell. He blinked furiously against the random flashes of light, sputtered as his body was dragged from the hold into the chaotic California downpour. Small hands tugged at him, pulling him upright.
“Ethan?” the demon called. “Ethan darling, can you hear me?”
A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “Hallie?”
–
Buffy and Giles ran through the rain, ducking under storefront awnings and into bus shelters between the magic shop and Giles’ apartment. The Slayer kept a firm hold on her Watcher’s arm, ensuring that she didn’t lose him again.
She had turned down Riley’s offer of transportation, explaining that she wanted some quality time with her mentor. Of course, she hadn’t anticipated the storm…
Lightning streaked through the sky, thunder close on its heels, and Buffy squealed. She tugged harder on Giles’ arm, urging him to run faster. Dark, she could handle. Demons, apocalypse, bad hair days - but storms? Way wiggy.
Giles stumbled on his front steps as she dragged him to the door, gesturing urgently for him to open it. He blinked the rain out of his eyes, cursing his broken glasses and his fuzzy vision.
Buffy screamed his name as another streak of lightning lit the sky, and then the street lights exploded and the entire town went dark. He glanced up, mouth opening to reassure her, but she cut him off by kicking down the door and yanking him inside.
“Storms are bad. Very bad,” she muttered to him as she hunkered down on his couch.
“Quite,” he replied, awkwardly leaning the remains of his front door across the gaping entranceway. “I could use some scotch - I mean tea! Tea sounds lovely. Would you like some, Buffy?”
But the Slayer was ignoring him, huddled into a corner of his couch with an afghan over her head. Giles wiped his glasses on his shirt, belatedly realizing that his shirt was wetter than his glasses, and with a heaving sigh made his way into the kitchen.
Lightning lit the apartment for one eerie moment before thunder shook every shakeable object within hearing distance. Buffy shrieked and leapt over the couch, the table, and the kitchen counter to wrap herself securely around her Watcher.
“Um, Buffy?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Are you…feeling quite alright?”
Agility? Check. Reflexes? Check. Completely un-Buffy-like freak out? Double check.
“I think something’s wrong! With me! There’s something wrong with me!”
A figure appeared out of the darkness. “Well, I could’ve told you that.”
“OH MY GOD!” Buffy screamed before ducking behind Giles, who, startled, threw his cup of tea at the offending figure.
“Bloody hell! What was that for?”
“Spike?”
The vampire snatched a dishtowel from a kitchen drawer and began furiously drying his prized coat. “I just came by to see if you made it back okay -”
“Likely story! You probably came here to rob him while he was all demon-y,” Buffy retorted from behind Giles’ shoulder.
Spike pondered her for a moment. “You got me there. Giles has some damn fine scotch here. And those books! They’re treasure troves of informa…um, they’d sell for a pretty penny.” He paused. His head cocked in contemplation. “Are you hiding behind him, Slayer?”
“Uh, no?”
“Dear lord,” Giles moaned.
–
This was bad. Very bad. Giant bunny bad. Anya raced through the streets of Sunnydale, cursing the rain, cursing Halfrek, cursing the entire demon population of the world! Well, maybe not the last one, but it was very tempting.
All this rain had flooded Xander’s basement, so Anya had been forced to spend the evening in her own apartment, where Halfrek arrived unannounced some few hours ago. They had chatted, drank some wine, and somehow, someway, Halfrek had gotten Anya to make a wish.
Damn it!
–
Buffy was twirling around the living room, dancing with some unseen suitor, and Giles was at his wit’s end. Though Spike seemed utterly fascinated and/or horrified by the display, all it did for Giles was give him a big fat headache.
“It’s probably a spell,” Giles mused. Spike shrugged noncommittally. “Or maybe she’s been drugged.”
The Slayer bounced up to Spike and grabbed him by the lapels, pulling him into her impromptu dance. A grin flashed on his face before his usual mask of disinterest fell into place.
“Whatever this girl’s on,” he called to Giles, “I want some too.”
“Whooooo lives in a pineapple under the sea! -”
“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want this. In fact, I want to leave.”
Buffy stopped singing and her mouth twisted into a sad little pout. “You don’t want to sing with me?” she asked.
“Not a bleeding cartoon theme song!” Spike retorted. “Or any of your bloody boy band drivel or Britney fucking Spears or -”
Someone knocked on the door. The room turned as one and watched as the detached board fell unceremoniously to the floor.
Anya, wet, bedraggled, exhausted, stood confusedly with her fist still raised. “What the Hell?”
Giles knocked back a shot of bourbon. “That’s the understatement of the year,” he replied.
–
“Okay, let me get this straight. You made a wish.”
“Yes.”
“In front of a vengeance demon.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know she was a vengeance demon?”
“Well duh, Giles! We were co-workers. Because I was a vengeance demon for a thousand years, but everyone seems to forget that.”
Giles grimaced and thumped his head on the table. Between this new disaster and the one happening in his living room -
“Buffy, for the last time you can NOT play Frisbee with my records! They are not toys!”
- he was sure his head would explode.
“Are you *sniffle* mad at me *sob* Giles?”
He slowly turned his head and watched as Buffy’s eyes spilled over with tears and she buried her face in Spike’s shirt. The vampire’s eyes grew wide and he tried desperately to peel her off of him, but to no avail.
“Way to go, Giles. You made Buffy cry.”
“You made a wish in front of a vengeance demon!”
“And you haven’t even asked me what it was yet!” Anya yelled and pushed her chair away from the table. “Does nobody care what could happen? Or why Buffy’s acting like a five-year-old?”
Spike’s hand shot into the air. “I care. I do. Really.”
Anya smiled. “Thank you, Spike!” Then she rounded on Giles with a look that would kill a lesser man…or at least mildly frighten them. “You go off drinking with an old evil colleague, get yourself turned into a Fyarl demon of all things, and you’re lecturing me on drinking with a friend who, up until tonight, was completely innocuous towards me?”
“You were drinking?” he demanded.
“Oh, for heaven’s - YES I was drinking. Yes, I made a wish. Yes, it was something about Buffy and I’m sorry I didn’t really mean it but it’s happened and we need to find Hallie!”
At the mention of her name, Buffy’s head popped up from where it was dripping salt water and snot onto Spike’s chest. “You did what?”
Anya returned to her seat and sheepishly dove into her tale. Fiddling with the hem of her skirt, she began…
–
“And they don’t listen! It’s like - like I’m not even there, you know? Like I’m a coat rack. Or a lamppost. Or an ugly piece of furniture that was given as a gift and you can’t get rid of no matter how horribly it clashes with your couch and your armchair just in case the people who gave it to you ever come over.”
Halfrek glanced at the bottle of wine sitting between them.
“Did you start drinking early?” she asked.
“No! But I think I need more,” Anya said as she poured herself another glass.
“Tell me more,” Halfrek persuaded.
“God, where do I start? Oh! I’ll start with Xander. So, he buys me shiny, expensive things and gives me orgasms every night, but he doesn’t understand me.”
“How so?”
“Well,” Anya contemplated as she downed another glass, “he acts as if I was never a demon. He pretends I’m not over a thousand years old, and when I don’t understand something he just pats my hand and says, ‘There, there,’ and I’m not entirely sure he’s not being patronising. He’s probably not. But it could be sarcasm. I haven’t quite grasped that brand of humour yet.”
“And this is a problem for you, that he doesn’t acknowledge your demon past?” Hallie prodded.
“It’s not just that, though! I mean, that’s a big part, but it’s just…he pretends I was never a demon because demons are EVIL. Take Willow, she’s a witch, she wasn’t always a witch, but at least she’s a good witch. So, being a witch isn’t bad. Unless you’re flaying people, apparently, because killing people is in column EVIL and that’s not what humans are. Evil is not human. Everything else? EVIL. But humans? NOT EVIL.
“But how is that right? I mean, there are humans out there that do so many horrible things; things more despicable than anything the most evil demons have ever been capable of. And there are demons that aren’t evil at all! I mean, look at you - you just grant wishes. Someone says they want their ex-husband tarred and feathered, you do it. But they asked! It wasn’t your idea.
“And Clem! Sweetest guy ever. A little too much skin, but hey…”
Anya poured herself another glass of wine.
“And then there’s Spike, Slayer of Slayers, Scourge of Europe! Humans stick a piece of metal in his brain and now he follows Buffy around like a…um, I don’t know.”
“Lapdog?”
“Exactly! He follows her around like a lapdog! And Buffy!! Well, she’s another story entirely! To her, everything’s black or white. Spike is a vampire, so he’s evil. I’m human, so I’m good. She’s got two boxes, and everything has to fit nice and neat into them.
“She’s always calling Spike a soulless monster. And Xander treats him like dirt, and Willow’s nice to everyone (except me, of course) and Giles just tolerates me because he says I’m too blunt…what was I talking about?”
Halfrek handed Anya another glass of wine. “You were telling me how you wish your friends were different.”
“That’s right! I wish I had a boyfriend who respects me for who I am and who I was. I wish Buffy would understand what it’s like to be the one treated like a child. I wish -”
Anya paused.
“Oh, crap.”
–
The four heroes plodded through the streets towards the warehouse district, Anya dragging Giles by the arm, Buffy and Spike huddled beneath his fanned duster. Every bolt of lightning and clap of thunder had them hurrying faster to reach the building Anya suspected was Halfrek’s base of operations.
“I believe that the simultaneous appearance of Ethan Rayne and your friend Halfrek are not a coincidence,” Giles mused. “Do you believe they could be co-ordinating an attack on us?”
Anya shrugged. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“Hey, Watcher!” Without slowing his pace, Giles turned to Spike.
“The bint’s been asking me every half-dozen feet if we’re there yet,” Spike complained. Buffy pinched his side and he glowered at her. “So are we? There yet, I mean.”
Giles turned to Anya. “Well?”
“Hallie said her new place was cheap, that she could see the ocean, and that it smelled like dirty socks. The only warehouse I can think of that fits the description is the one around this corner!”
They came upon the rickety building and stared up at it.
“This the place, then?” Spike demanded.
Buffy shivered and pressed herself closer to Spike beneath the cover of his duster. Though it softened some of the hardness in him, he pretended not to notice.
He draped the duster around Buffy’s shoulders and with one hard kick the warehouse door slammed inwards. Buffy jumped up and down and clapped her hands.
“That was so cool!”
Spike swaggered back to her side. “Like that, eh Slayer?”
“It was the awesomest awesome ever!! Do it again!”
“Er…”
Anya rolled her eyes and pushed Giles through the doorway ahead of her.
–
Spike crept through the darkness, vampire eyes scanning the room for dangers. He could feel the Slayer close behind him. A few weeks ago, her presence would have set his senses on high alert - now they were highly tuned to her.
It was Red’s bloody spell, he knew, that started this all. With making Giles blind and Xander a demon magnet and the Slayer and himself engaged…it had wreaked havoc with all of their emotions.
Though the demon bird realizing the whelp was no good for her probably should have come sooner.
The floor creaked beneath his weight and he paused, trying to gauge the strength of the floor.
“Stay back,” he warned, “this building doesn’t seem very -”
Too late. Buffy had caught up to him, one hand now bunched in the leather of his jacket, and the floor was buckling beneath them and they were plummeting to the basement below.
He heard screams and shouts and through the haze of his fear of being impaled by random bits of wood flooring, Spike responded to Buffy’s desperate wails by pulling her falling body close to his and cushioning their hard landing on the cement floor.
His head smacked the ground with enough force to knock him unconscious, but he held on long enough to check that Buffy was relatively unharmed before succumbing to the darkness.
–
“Buffy!” “Spike!”
Giles and Anya called their names as the floor collapsed beneath their weight. Giles rushed forward but Anya pulled him back before he could fall victim to the same fate.
He called his Slayer’s name again, creeping to the edge of the hole, Anya clutched tightly to his arm. There was no response from below.
“They’re dead,” Anya whispered. “Well, Buffy’s dead, and providing Spike wasn’t inadvertently staked -”
“Would you shut up!” Giles growled. Anya blinked up at him and he saw hurt in her eyes before she turned quickly away from him.
“Fine. I won’t say anything anymore. It’s not like my opinion matters anyway.”
He was about to follow after her when a soft voice called to him from below.
“Buffy? Are you alright?”
–
“I - I think so, but…”
Buffy struggled to stand up, but everywhere she put her hands there was soft flesh, not the hard floor she was expecting. With a groan she rolled off of Spike and crawled to her knees, the spinning of her head forcing her to keep off her feet.
“Buffy?”
“Giles!” she called, panicked. “Spike’s hurt! Oh my god, oh my god…”
Shaking hands grasped him by the lapels and shook him, but he didn’t stir. She felt for his pulse and suppressed a scream.
“He’s dead! Oh no, he’s dead. Giles! GILES!!”
Anya’s head poked over the edge of the hole. “I’m not allowed to talk anymore,” she said, shooting a withering glance at Giles, “but I think you’re forgetting he’s a vampire.”
“Oh. Right. I knew that.”
Buffy leaned over Spike and brushed some of the dust from his face. “He’s really pale though!”
“Again, vampire.”
“Right.”
–
Giles stepped back from the hole and cleaned his glasses on the edge of his shirt.
“Well, now that we’ve assessed that Spike is still very much undead, I suggest we continue looking for Halfrek, if all this commotion hasn’t already alerted her to our presence.”
Anya harrumphed and led the way across the warehouse, arms held tightly across her chest. Giles told Buffy to wait with Spike until they returned for her before running after the angry ex-demon.
Anya didn’t acknowledge him as he met her stride, nor did she glance his way as he cleared his throat in an attempt to gain her attention. Finally, with a resigned sigh, Giles grasped her arm and forced her to stop.
“If we’re going to do this, we have to work together.”
Anya glared at him.
“What, now that Buffy and Spike are down for the count you suddenly need my help?”
Giles cocked his head in confusion.
“What is this all about, Anya?”
“Of course you have no idea! When does anyone care how I feel? Does anyone ever ask??”
Anya was crying now, and desperate to be free of his grip. But Giles just held her tighter and grabbed her with both hands.
“So tell me how you feel!” he demanded. “I’m not going to play twenty questions with you.”
“I feel useless!” she spat. “You don’t listen to me, you don’t see me, you don’t remember that when you say demons are evil that was me two years ago, you make jokes I don’t understand, you patronize me -”
Anya stopped suddenly and wiped a hand across her runny nose. “And I’m not even talking about you.”
When she pulled away from him Giles let her, and he watched her slowly climb the rickety metal staircase to the second floor offices. From what she had told them about her drunken confessions to Halfrek, he knew that she was feeling somewhat excluded, but he hadn’t known it was to such a drastic extent.
She waited for him at the top of the stairs as he took his time climbing them, trying to come up with something to say. Anya avoided his eyes, but Giles grasped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze.
“Anya, I can’t speak for the others, but I value your contributions to our group. You’re blunt, quirky, and loyal. You have ancient knowledge of both the demon and human worlds. You are often the one to come up with the research breakthroughs, and you have compassion, though sometimes we forget when you state so obviously our shortcomings. And I’ve never forgotten that you were a demon, Anya, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Of course it matters! I’m the same person I was then, Giles, just trapped in a mortal body. Being human doesn’t automatically make me good, so am I evil? If I get out of line will Buffy slay me like she’s always saying she’ll do to Spike? And why don’t any of you see what you do to us, the outsiders, the two who’ll never fit in because of our pasts?”
The tears were flowing again and Giles gently wiped them away. “You feel like an outsider?”
“Of course I do! All I ever hear is how demons are evil, but it’s not true, there are some really nice demons and some really bad demons, just the same as humans.”
“Anya -”
“NO!” she yelled and pushed him away from her. “You just said I have knowledge of the demon world. I was one. There are good and evil demons. You just don’t take the time to figure out if the oozing green thing on the end of your sword was plotting the demise of the planet or going home from a long day at work!”
Giles stared at her as she furiously struggled to calm her breathing. “I suppose - I suppose I never gave it much thought before.” He pulled his glasses off and began cleaning them once more. “The Council always told us that demons were evil. There was never a grey area; to think otherwise was preposterous. But I suppose it does make sense…”
He slipped his glasses back on and Anya noticed the gleam in his eye that usually meant ‘research’. “This is fascinating! Perhaps Willow and Tara can find a way to detect which demons are plotting evil and which are just…grocery shopping…it could help Buffy save time on patrols, it would save innocent demon lives…”
He trailed off as his mind began working furiously. “Do you know if there’s a way to do that? Would you help me gather information on the different species, maybe make a list for cross-referencing demons to behaviours -”
She was upon him in an instant, her lips pressing against his own. He froze while her supple body leaned into him, and he had to fight for breath when she broke the kiss.
“You want my help!” she squealed. Anya threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly. “I’m already coming up with ideas, didn’t Willow mention that Angel Investigations is making an online database or something? We could help with that…”
Anya talked excitedly about the project, still hanging from his shoulders, still pressed against his body. They realized this at the same time and a deafening silence surrounded them.
But neither wanted to move.
–
Spike groaned and tried to move, but it felt like every bone in his body was shattered into pieces. On the plus side, that meant he wasn’t dust.
Someone called his name from across the room and he heard movement before a warm body was hovering over him, gently touching his face and neck. On instinct, he scented the air, and all his senses screamed ‘Slayer’ to him. But he wasn’t afraid, rather he felt almost…safe?
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, trying to sit up and push Buffy away at the same time.
“Shh!” she whispered frantically, and he paused his movements to see what had her so worked up.
Aside from some bruising on her arms and face she didn’t seem hurt. But she was definitely twitchy, and it made Spike nervous.
“Slayer, what the hell is -”
Buffy clamped her hand over his mouth, silencing him. Under normal circumstances he might have shoved her, punched her, licked her, but he could feel her heart pounding under her ribs where his arm was pressed against her side.
He sat up slowly and pulled her towards him. “What is it?” he whispered.
She turned wide saucer eyes on him. “There’s something in the room with us.”
He couldn’t sense anything besides Buffy, but his senses were so overwhelmed with her presence it wasn’t impossible that her signature was overriding that of a possible threat.
“Are you sure?”
Her gaze swept to a near corner of the room, just outside the faint circle of light shining down through the hole in the floor from above. “I tried to drag you away from it, but you were so heavy and I couldn’t -” Buffy’s voice broke and she bit her lip to keep from crying, hard enough to make it bleed.
“Stay here,” he ordered, and painfully climbed to his feet.
“No!” she cried and tried to pull him back down to the floor. “You can’t! It’ll kill you, it’s some kind of demon!”
“You know, for a Slayer, you sure don’t know a lot about demons.” Off her confused look, he added, “They’re kind of like animals, some of them. More afraid of you than you are of them. Might just be curious, this one. But I’ve got to make sure it won’t come after you.”
She glanced quickly up at him.
“Us! I mean, come after us.”
They stared at each other for a long moment before Spike mustered his strength and made his way to the edge of the circle of light.
“Spike?” He turned back to her.
“Be careful,” she whispered.
“Stay here, all right?” he asked her.
“But -”
“No. Don’t move from that spot, no matter what. In this state, you can’t take care of yourself.”
Her frightened face softened somewhat and she choked on her words. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
He pondered her shiny blond hair, tight little outfit, bleeding lip, wide watery eyes; he didn’t know why. So he shrugged and returned to her, bending just far enough that he could comfortably look her in the eye where she was kneeling on the floor.
“I don’t know why, luv. But like this, you seem almost…innocent. Can’t rightly let anything happen to you, now can I?”
One of her hands brushed against his and suddenly she had pressed her warm lips against his cheek.
“I’ll wait here for you,” she promised, and crossed her heart.
–
She leaned towards him, wetting her lips in anticipation. His grip on her waist pulled her hips closer to his own. Their mouths hovered inches from each other…
“Bloody Hell!”
Giles and Anya jumped apart at the entrance of Ethan Rayne. Halfrek was right behind him, carrying a valise.
“Hallie!” Anya cried and leapt at her. Halfrek cringed and held her valise up in a protective gesture, but Anya tore it from her hands and tossed it to the floor.
“How could you do this to me?” the ex-demon demanded, so completely absorbed in her confrontation that she didn’t notice the one happening behind her.
“Well, Rupert - it looks like I was wrong about you. You do still have the touch with the ladies.”
And Giles’ fist collided with Ethan’s face.
–
The dark form huddled in the corner of the room certainly didn’t look friendly. It looked menacing, kind of frightening, and more than a little…
“Hungry…” it said, and leapt towards him.
Spike whirled out of the way, his duster swirling around him in a flash of black leather that confused the demon. It stared around, giving the vampire a chance to regroup.
Now that it was closer, Spike could see it was a Vorgoth demon, similar to a pet dog but furrier and angrier. Also, an eater of living flesh.
He scrambled around in the darkness for a weapon, listening carefully as the Vorgoth snuffled around. Its steps were getting closer, and Spike knew he didn’t have much time.
Hefting a broken girder, he circled the dog-demon, keeping it in his sight at all times. Meanwhile, he focused his other senses on Buffy, making sure that she was still out of harm’s way.
She’s the Slayer, you git! He chastised himself again for this sudden and uncharacteristic concern for the petite blond, chalking it up to her weakened state. But if he was being honest…
“Spike?”
“Luv?” He inwardly cringed at the pet name.
“Is it a good demon?”
Spike sighed. “No, pet. And it’s a might hungry, I’d say.” The Vorgoth turned at the sound of his voice. “But you stay in the light and you’ll be fine,” he promised.
–
Buffy crept as close to the edge of the light as she dared, so that she could just see the outline of Spike’s body. His shock of white hair was hard to miss, and she loved watching him in action, body tense, ready to strike, the coiled strength hidden under that billowing duster had her licking her lips…
Her eyes widened. Bad thoughts! Very bad thoughts!!
But she was concerned. He was in charge of protecting her, and if anything happened to him, she wouldn’t be able to take care of herself.
“Spike?”
“Luv?” She grinned at the pet name.
Remembering what she was worried about, she asked, “Is it a good demon?”
“No, pet.” Damn. “And it’s a might hungry, I’d say. But you stay in the light and you’ll be fine.”
Right. Stay in the light. That was easy! She could do that. This is Buffy, sitting in the light, not getting eaten by the big bad -
Sudden commotion in the darkness ahead had her leaning forward before she could stop herself. Now that the light wasn’t in her eyes, she could adjust to the darkness. There were two bodies struggling, on huge and lumbering, the other bent double in pain.
He’s hurt!
Her hands tightened into fists and she watched in horror as the demon batted Spike to the floor with an enormous paw and leaned in for the kill.
–
Giles and Ethan plunged down the stairs together, fists beating bruises into each other’s flesh. Anya continued her tirade on the ethical treatment of former vengeance demons while Halfrek stuck her fingers in her ears and sang loudly to block out the whingeing of her friend.
“I’m a little teapot, short and -!”
“Bloody - buggering - god damn son of a -!”
In her fury, Anya stomped on Halfrek’s valise. All fighting stopped at the sound of something breaking inside, and the hollow ‘pop’ that seemed to echo through the universe.
Anya’s eyes widened impossibly, and when the realization of what she’d done finally sunk into Halfrek’s mind, her nails lashed out and drew blood from her best friend’s cheek.
“You stupid bitch!”
And just as suddenly as the fight stopped, it resumed again, this time the women using their fists and the men hurling insults.
–
Confidence slowly crept through Buffy’s nervous limbs, warming her chilled skin until she was burning from the wait. It wasn’t right that Spike was out there getting the shit beat out of him to protect her - she was the Slayer for crying out loud! The Chosen One! She who walks lightly in cemeteries!!
She grasped a rock firmly in her hand and pegged the Vorgoth in the head.
“Hey, ugly!” Both the dog-demon and the vampire turned. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own…species.”
It let out a disgruntled roar before charging Buffy, but she was wound tight and her dance was fluid death. The Vorgoth didn’t know what hit him.
–
Spike shook his duster out angrily, purple goo flicking every which way. Buffy batted the sticky drops out of the air with a wrinkled nose.
“Why didn’t you tell me they explode if you stab them in the heart?” she demanded.
“Why do you insist on killing everything like it’s a vampire?” Spike flung back.
Buffy frowned in thought. “Well, it’s very effective.” Spike rolled his eyes and slipped back into his jacket.
“Let’s find a way out of here,” he suggested, and made his way into the dark.
Buffy lagged behind, watching him, and grinned.
–
Hallie slammed Anya’s head into the wall and Anya grabbed two fists full of Hallie’s hair. She screamed, and Anya yanked her down the steps.
“FINE! See if I care! I have other friends!”
Hallie laughed meanly. “Sure you do.”
Ethan grinned at Giles, flashing his teeth, before punching him across the jaw, which sent him stumbling into Anya. Hallie used the distraction to free herself and she and Ethan made off into the night, cackling all the way.
Giles and Anya landed in a heap on the floor, limbs tangled.
“Sorry! Sorry. Let me just -”
“Ow!”
“Sorry!”
Giles helped her to her feet, and they stood staring awkwardly at each other for a long moment.
“You don’t have to say anything, Giles. I understand.”
“You do?”
“It was Hallie’s spell - I asked for a boyfriend that respects me for all that I am, and you were the only guy around. Well, there was Spike, too, but obviously he has a thing for Buffy -”
“Please stop talking.”
Anya’s mouth snapped closed and her face shuttered. Giles nearly rolled his eyes, but managed to restrain himself this once.
“I didn’t mean it like that -”
A hatch in the floor slammed open and Spike crawled out, gave them a jaunty wave, and then reached back in the hole to grab Buffy’s hand.
“Hi guys!” Buffy yelled. “What did we miss?”
–
“So it was really all Hallie’s spell? My behaviour, and everything we might have been…feeling?”
Anya nodded distractedly and picked at a thread on Giles’ couch.
“Well, that’s reassuring,” Spike remarked.
Buffy awkwardly avoided his intent gaze.
“Yeah,” Anya replied. “Reassuring.”
Giles huffed a sigh. “It’s getting late,” he said, though it was clearly a suggestion.
“Yeah. I should get home,” Buffy replied. “Willow’s probably worried about me.”
As she stood, Spike jumped up.
“I’ll walk you home. Ethan and that bint might still be out there.”
Everyone gave him incredulous looks.
“What? Anything could happen!”
Anya frowned and Giles cleaned his glasses, but Buffy smiled evilly and grabbed his arm.
“Are you sure you want to do that, Spike? Because I may not be one hundred percent better. Whoooooo lives in a pineapple under the sea! -”
“Bloody buggering hell!” he groaned, but Giles listened to their laughter until it slowly died out.
Anya stood then, and straightened her clothes.
“Well,” she began, but found she didn’t have anything else to say, so she walked towards the (still gaping) doorway.
“Anya,” Giles called, just as she stepped onto the door.
“I’m tired, Giles.” Though she didn’t leave, she didn’t turn around.
He took a step toward her. “I don’t think it was all the spell.”
Anya scoffed and crossed her arms. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I still think you’re right about the demons. And I’d still like your help on the project.”
She met his eyes. “Really?”
“Yes.” Giles licked his lips. “And I still want to kiss you.”
A slow smile lit Anya’s face. “Really?”
“Yes,” Giles said, and crossed the distance between them and cupped Anya’s face in his hands. “Really.”