"Well, we don't really have any clients, but hey, this place being all empty and echo-y is kind of crazy making, and seeing as it's been three weeks with no word from Angel or Cordelia, we could probably use a little help. What is it exactly that you do?"
"I'm a Slayer. I also know my way around the laundry room and make a killer license plate, but I just don't see those last two as career paths."
I must have looked kind of clueless, because she filled me in pretty quickly. "I'm fresh out of jail. Turns out there were some technicalities that weren't handled quite right. Like my whole confession. Some bleeding heart with an axe to grind took on the system, so here I am."
She smiled a little. I think I was expecting something mean and feral, with that whole prison thing, something like a stray dog grinning a warning. What I got was kind of rusty, but sweet.
"We have a bunch of rooms, although some of them are still a little damaged from the earthquake. You can take your pick."
The rusty smile turned into a big old grin. "Got any with a bathtub?"
I showed her up to a suite with a huge tub. "Gimme a sec, I'll get you some soap and towels."
There was still some Mister Bubble with Connor's baby things, so I put it on top of the stack of towels next to the bars of Ivory. "Here you go," I told her as I handed off the bundle. "I'll be down in the lobby if you need anything."
After a couple of hours, I started to get a little worried. I mean, call me paranoid and all, but with everybody and his uncle disappearing around here, it never hurts to check and make sure a body is where you put him or her last. I've suggested to Charles that we might want to look into microchips with some sort of GPS--it'd be easy enough to put together--but he's not too keen on the idea. Says it's a little too "X-Files" for him.
I guess I'd forgotten just how good a bath feels when you haven't had one in a few years. I knocked on the door, waited a sec, then just walked in when I didn't hear anything from the room.
"Faith? Are you okay in there?" I called out.
The sound of water splashing reassured me, but not as much as the sound of her voice. "Yeah, five-by-five. Hey--while you're here, could you bring me a towel? I left them on the bed."
She was sprawled in the tub, one leg up against the tile surround, and covered in bubbles. Even her hair, which was piled up all wet and dark and bubbly and kind of Bride of Frankenstein-y. I couldn't look away; my first sexual dream may have been about the Mouse King, but the second was all about Elsa Lancaster.
"Here's your towel... sorry to bug ya." I held it out and she stood up, not bothering to rinse the bubbles. It was kind of like the Botticelli Birth of Venus, only dark and without the shell or the wind or the roses. And with me and a towel instead of the nymph with the cloak.
I had a feeling that I wasn't going to be dreaming about the Mouse King or Elsa next time I had a chance to get some shut-eye.
"So, you hungry?" I asked. When in doubt, food's good, and Charles wasn't due back for another few hours. Besides which, prison food's the butt of enough jokes that I figured there had to be a grain of truth to them.
"I'm starved." She finished toweling off and pulled on her clothes. "What have you got?"
"Well, nothing here really, but there's a great taco stand just down the street, that is, if you like tacos, and who doesn't like tacos? I mean, I guess some people probably don't like tacos, but--"
"Tacos are cool. Got anything to drink with 'em?"
In hindsight, which, as everyone knows, is always 20/20, I probably should have said "no" or "just water" or "I could pick up some root beer while I get the food", but like I said, I'd hit my head pretty hard when she walked in, so I thought tequila'd be a good idea. And anyone can tell you that tequila's pretty much never a good idea, especially if you're having the kinda thoughts you really should scrub right out of your brain before you're tempted to act on them in spite of having a sweet, wonderful, loving boyfriend who happens to be gone for the night, but I made the suggestion before watching her eat.
Again in hindsight, maybe I should have suggested some sort of innocuous food, like burgers or cous-cous.
"You were right," she said from around a mouthful of taco. "These are damn good." The tip of her tongue darted out to catch some sauce before it could escape, and I took another hasty shot of Cuervo as she polished off the last bites. "Gotta admit, though, they're kinda messy."
t it's being a good night, but now for bed
Dawn cut her last class, even though she knew quite well that she wasn't supposed to leave campus without having someone to walk with. But she just could not sit in Geometry, working on acute angles and right triangles with that feeling on the back of her neck.
Someone was watching her. Someone had been watching her all day. And this wasn't like that nice-but-squicky feeling she got when she caught Todd Burke watching her during gym class. This was calculating, curious, not really human. Hellmouthy. The monks had given her years of memories on what Hellmouthyness felt like.
More than that, this was her own personal brand of wiggins, this was the Glory brand. There was nothing stopping the hellgod from coming to school. Dawn really didn't want anything like what happened to Spike happening to any of her classmates.
So she snuck out. If she kept moving and stayed on crowded streets, she could get to the Magic Box, and then she could call Buffy while hiding behind Xander and Willow and the others.
She caught a glimpse of it, once, skulking behind some garbage cans in an alley as she hurried down the street towards Main Street. Not very big, but it wore one of those robes the little demons wore that night. It ducked down when she stopped to look, then it peeked very carefully around the garbage can, and she met its eyes. It smiled at her.
She was running when she hit the door of the Magic Box.
Willow jumped up from her chair at the table. "Dawnie, what is it?"
"It's following me!" She ran into Willow's arms, trying not to cry.
Xander grabbed an axe. "What's following you? Where?"
"One of Glory's thingies! Little men or something. It was at school, and I left, and it followed me, and I saw it in the alley, and it grinned at me!"
"I'll go look." Xander gave Dawn a quick squeeze before going to the front door. He leaned out, keeping the axe hidden inside as he looked carefully up and down the street.
Willow brushed back Dawn's hair. "It was at school? Are you sure?"
Dawn nodded, sniffling. "I knew something was watching me. I really did!"
"It's OK, honey, I believe you."
Xander closed the door and locked it, then flipped the Open sign to Closed. Anya started to protest but subsided. "There's nothing out there now," he said.
"It was there!" Dawn started.
"I believe you, too, Dawn, don't worry."
Anya reached for the phone. "I'll tell Buffy."
"The alley, you said?" Xander asked Dawn.
She nodded. "Over on Third, coming down from school. I ran the rest of the way."
Willow smiled and kissed her hair. "Long-legged beastie, you always could run fast." Dawn gave her a confused look, then just leaned against Willow.
Xander stared at the back of the store. "I'll check out back."
He opened the door to the training room, and short, wizened creature in a long robe peered up at him from where it had been crouching.
Xander grabbed it by the front of the robe, dragged it from hiding and shoved it up against the wall. "Did somebody order a Jawa?"
"That's him!" Dawn yelled. "It!"
"I serve--Glorificus," the creature wheezed. "She will be most wroth at my mistreatment."
"Mistreatment?" Xander pulled it forward, then slammed it back against the wall. "We haven't gotten to mistreatment yet." He held the axe edge against the creature's face. "But we'll get there. You scared a friend of mine. Nice people don't do that. And we don't like people who aren't nice. Why were you following her?"
"I shall not speak! Do your worst!"
Xander stared at the creature. "Anya? Remember when you told me how you pulled that guy's small intestine out through his belly button? What kind of knife did you use again?"
"A knife with a hooked point," she answered brightly. "I think Giles has one in the training room, unless he took it with him when he left to become a vampire. I'll go look."
"Thanks, hon."
The demon shivered and looked over at Willow and Dawn. "I--I will not speak ..."
"Why were you following me?" Dawn demanded.
Anya came back from the training room. "He took it with him, sorry. But I found a fork!" She held one up. "We can bend one of the pointy bits over, that should work."
"That's my little problem solver," Xander grinned. He turned back to the creature, losing the smile. "So, do I let my ex-vengeance-demon girlfriend turn that fork into an implement of torture, or are you going to talk?"
"I--I--" The creature looked over Xander's shoulder to where Anya had pulled a pair of pliers from Xander's toolbox to bend a fork tine over. She frowned at the angle and bent a little more.
"Got it!" she called.
Xander raised an eyebrow at the creature, who stayed silent. "Honey, you're the expert. I'll hold, you eviscerate."
"I was sent to watch the Slayer's minions!" the creature yelled. "Only to watch!"
"Hey!" Dawn protested. "I'm not a minion, I'm her sister!"
Anya pouted. "You're not going to let me pull out his intestines, now, are you," she said to Xander.
"Sorry, Ahn." He shook the demon. "Watch? Why?"
"To--to--"
"She's still got that fork, buddy. Talk."
"I--we were sent out to watch all of you, to make sure you didn't interfere when Her Gloriousness collects her key."
Willow pulled Dawn closer. "Collects the key? Glory knows where it's at?"
"Yes. Even now Glorificus is on her way."
"Call Buffy," Xander told Anya, who nodded and ran for the phone. He looked around the shop, wondering if they had anything to hold off a god.
"You needn't hurry so," the creature said. "You won't reach the witch in time."
Willow jumped forward and grabbed a handful of robe. "What do you mean, witch!"
The creature blinked. "The witch with
