Time and Time Again.
Author: Citanul
Feedback: Be kind, rewind? Seriously though all feedback is welcome.
Spoilers: Just about all of them. Go watch the show. And Angel too. Also Agents of Shield a little bit. You know what, if a name you don’t recognize pops up most of the time you can find dozens of pages of character bio if you type that name and the word comics into Wikipedia. It’s almost scary how much page space comic book fans have taken up on that site.
Rating: NC-17 = Smutty smut smut smut. Seriously though they make love quite often.
Pairings: W/T, B/F, G/J, D/J, F/G, A/?, X/A. Also D/C (Though not till they’re older and even then maybe not so much with the graphic detail.)
Disclaimer: You all know I don’t own the rights to characters you’ve seen on TV.
Summary: A story of reincarnation and interdimensional travel made possible through the power of love. What misfortunes will our two favorite love birds be able to prevent with the aid of experience from countless past lives?
Author’s Note: And I finally fought off the demons of procrastination and "Ooh look! A shiny!" Where were we again? Oh! "Enemies." Yeah none of that episode made the cut... Well, most of that episode didn't make the cut... Okay the start of the episode made the cut but not the way it went down in the... Anyway the girls are having an impromptu date night and things get steamy. The first two scenes contain pretty graphic love scenes, so there's that to look forward to before insane plot lines gets up an running. I swear I'll try to get the next one out faster...
*****
Chapter 38: Love, Devotion, or Something Sinister
“Le Banquet D’ Amelia,” Buffy read the words out loud as she stared up at the glowing neon Sun Cinema marquee. A moment passed before the Slayer’s mind leapt to the simplest conclusion. “Oh! It’s about food… Right?”
“Yeah, B,” Faith failed to hide her smirk as she bought their tickets and took her girl by the hand. “It’s got food in it.” The sultry brunette led the petite blonde through the lobby only pausing for a moment as her girl eyed the concession stand. Knowing Buffy’s sweet tooth, Faith bought one of the larger boxes of chocolate before hurrying the Slayer towards the main theater.
Buffy’s expression turned curious, then confused as Faith guided her to the very back row of seats in the large screening room. “Back here? Really? I get not wanting to strain your neck looking up the whole time, but all the way in the back?”
“Trust me, B,” Faith gave her girl a seductive smile as she removed the light fuchsia coat from Buffy’s shoulders. “When the lights go down these will be the best seats in the house.”
Buffy just shrugged and took the seat Faith maneuvered her towards. They were a few seats away from the side wall of the theater, though still towards the middle of the row. Buffy didn’t pay too much attention as Faith folded and set Buffy’s coat and her own leather jacket together one seat away from Buffy’s.
“Don’t want anyone creepin’ as I put my arm around my girl’s shoulders,” Faith and Buffy shared a smile and a heartwarming look. Faith then sat in the seat between Buffy and the coats and proceeded to put her arm around the petite blonde.
“Aww, Honey, you are just adorable.” Buffy let out a laugh as Faith failed to look nonchalant.
“Yeah, B,” Faith finally managed to hide her smirk as the lights began to dim. The Slayers let their heads rest against one another as the screen flickered to life. “Adorable.”
Buffy happily munched on chocolate as she watched the opening credits. None of the names seemed even slightly familiar. She hadn’t heard anything specific about this film. All she knew going in was the reaction Willow had when she told her friend about the date Faith had planned. The almost maniacal grin that took over the redhead’s face raised more than a few red flags, though those warnings went unheeded in the wake of Willow’s adamant assurances.
“No, Buffy, you have to go see that movie with Faith!” The witch had all but shouted as Buffy’s hesitation became apparent. “It’s amazing, romantic even, and it’s just so… Artistic!”
All Buffy could do at the time was along with Willow’s resounding excitement. As the credits faded a slender woman wearing a skimpy black kimono walked into frame. Buffy began to doubt her earlier assessment of the title as the camera dragged itself languidly up and down the woman’s body. The woman, Buffy presumed this was the fabled Amelia, walked up to the side of a long ornate dining table. The kind of table one might expect to find in the banquet hall of a cold-hearted king or feudal lord. A table meant for the aristocracy, but not the scantily clad woman on screen.
Buffy’s mouth went dry as she watched Amelia bend over at the waist, revealing far more than the petite blonde anticipated as the kimono was hiked up delicately curved hips and thighs. Buffy let out a high pitched squeak that managed to straddle a fine line between mortified and aroused. The box of chocolates found its way to the cup holder in Buffy’s armrest. The Slayer watched, unable to turn away as Amelia spread a crimson table cloth across the polished wood surface of the banquet table. Hazel eyes never leaving the tuft of dark curls peeking out at the Slayer from just under the hem of the black satin kimono.
Buffy’s pulse quickened as her eyes locked on stiff twin peaks boldly trying to erupt from the thin, dark, lace of the kimono. She gasped as heat built between her legs until an all consuming blaze threatened to claim the rest of her body. The only distraction was the arm wrapped around her shoulders, strong fingers flexing as they gripped her aroused frame.
“See something you like, B?” Faith whispered in Buffy’s ear, knowingly, seductively. “For a low budget indie flick, they lucked out casting her.” Faith’s husky whispers coiled and fanned the arousal running rampant in Buffy’s mind and her now aching center, but it was the hand creeping up Buffy’s thigh, hiking up her black floral print skirt, that truly captivated Buffy. Faith’s long, dexterous fingers worked wonders. Dragging trimmed nails along the inside of Buffy’s muscular legs. Pressing into the supple flesh of Buffy’s taut inner thighs. Dancing under Buffy’s lacy underwear, up and down swollen lips for a heart-shattering moment.
“Damn, B!” Faith whispered a laugh into Buffy’s earlobe as she nibbled upon the delicate flesh. “So wet for me already.” The brunette took a moment to gather up Buffy’s heated essence with her fingers. The Slayer let out a desperate gasp as Faith’s hand came up to first take one tender swipe across Buffy’s panting lips. An instant later the digits were taken from the petite blonde’s mouth and slipped into the brunette’s. Faith moaned her rapture as she tasted Buffy on her fingers.
“Faith?” Buffy’s moaned whimper was as wanton as it was quiet. Neither Slayer paid attention as food platters were paraded across the screen at the head of the room. Neither Slayer cared as two men easily twice Amelia’s size walked up to the slender woman and began to kiss and suck at opposite sides of her neck. “Please...”
“Don’t worry, B,” Faith assured her girl as her hand trailed back down Buffy’s body. The Slayer quivered as Faith’s hand cupped her pussy. “I’ll steer you around the curves,” Faith promised as she plunged two strong fingers into Buffy’s depths. Buffy’s loud moan was just barely captured by Faith as the brunette claimed the petite blonde’s lips with her own. Slayer and Slayer melted into one another at the very back of the darkened movie theater. None of the half dozen or so other people in the room noticed. None looked back as Buffy gripped her armrests and rocked her hips into Faith’s hand, driving possessive yet needy digits all the deeper into quivering molten folds.
Faith could no longer hold back the proud smirk as she fucked her girl senseless. She silently thanked the Goddess that whoever had organized the theater’s recent run of indie art house films had neglected to filter out entries that were obviously soft core porn films.
The brunette thrilled with each and every aroused moan and whimper that slipped Buffy’s lips. Faith swallowed them all as she drove Buffy further and further towards the precipice. She almost cheered as she felt Buffy’s walls begin to quake. The rippling turned to desperate clenching as Faith carried her girl over the edge of ecstasy.
When Buffy regained her senses she noticed Faith was still kissing her. Still stirring within her. Still claiming her. That had to change.
“Mmm, Faith,” Buffy’s whisper was far more coherent than her last pleading utterance.
“You enjoying the movie, B?” Faith asked with casual ease as she gave her girl’s pussy one more playful stir. She delighted at the way Buffy’s entire body seized up before hazel eyes fixed her with a mild glare.
“Oh yeah,” Buffy growled as she ignored what the men on screen were doing to Amelia’s completely naked body. Just as Amelia was picked up and laid bare in the middle of the banquet table Buffy leapt into Faith’s lap. The Slayer turned her back on the dozens of food platters surrounding the naked woman on screen. Preferring to focus on making the proud brunette she straddled just as desperate and wanton as Amelia.
“Mine!” Buffy whispered and groaned into Faith’s mouth as her hands all but ripped open the fly of Faith’s tight leather pants, determined to capture the wetness Buffy knew awaited her within the confining leather. In an instant, Buffy’s fingers delved through Faith’s arousal.
“Yours,” Faith agreed as quietly as she could while Buffy began to fuck her. “Always yours, B.”
The Slayer reveled in her girl’s submission. The brunette’s pleading tone driving her wild, Buffy quickly worked Faith into a frenzied haze of lust and love. The Slayers repeatedly took each other to new heights in the back row of the theater, none of their fellow moviegoers the wiser.
*****
“Ooh, Baby, this is my favorite part.” Willow squirmed in her front row seat as she watched the four men on screen use chopsticks to remove pieces of sushi from Amelia’s exposed skin. The naked woman lay face up on the massive banquet table. She shivered in delight as every second or third time the men went for a piece of food their reach missed and turned into a lingering caress. Hands holding chopsticks all too often came to rest open palms across thighs, breasts, and the taut expanse of stomach on full display. Soon enough Amelia’s knees began to tremble and spread. Willow watched transfixed as the woman’s glistening curls came into focus once more.
“Really, Sweetie?” Tara whispered in an amused and curious tone. “This is your favorite part? What happened to my breast gal?”
“What?” Willow almost yelped as she felt Tara’s hand trace up and down the inside of her thigh. It took the redhead a moment for her love’s question to register. “Oh, okay not this part, but the one coming up is the best.”
“I agree,” Tara whispered before she leaned back and closed her eyes. The honey blonde rasped out the words to a familiar spell. An instant later the couple was shrouded behind a veil none would even come close to piercing.
“Somebody else’s problem? Really?” Willow asked as she glanced over her shoulder at the handful of other moviegoers spread out over the dozens of rows behind theirs. “In a porno theater?” Willow’s scandalized whisper did far too many interesting things to Tara’s imagination as it ran wild.
“Soft core porn maybe.” Tara amended as she took Willow’s hand. “It does provide quite the distraction for the field to work off of. Everyone here is too focused on the screen up there to see what I’m gonna do to you right down here.” As Tara spoke one hand slowly dragged her long skirt up her legs while the other brought Willow’s trembling palm against her inner thigh. Tara almost moaned as she felt her love’s hand squeeze and knead the supple flesh so close to her aching center.
“Baby,” Willow moaned as she tried to lean in to kiss her always.
“Not yet, Sweetie,” Tara held her everything off for a moment. Though that was the last thing she wanted, Tara needed another moment before going forward. The denial was nearly too painful. “Watch our favorite scene. The Baroness is about to take her turn with Amelia.”
Willow whimpered as she restrained her desires. The temptation to throw herself to the floor before Tara and bury her face in the honey blonde’s quivering folds was nearly too great. Ever obedient, Willow clutched the arm rests of her seat and watched as a new figure appeared on the screen.
The tall statuesque Baroness stood off to the side of the banquet table. Thick tresses of raven black hair cascaded down shoulders only loosely covered by the frill and lace straps of a dark purple gown. The garment bore several striking similarities to an ancient Greek or Roman toga. Graceful, yet sharp features made up the woman’s face as her steely blue eyes never left the hands wandering up and down Amelia’s soft curves and supple flesh.
Willow gulped as she watched the Baroness walk up to the table. The men smearing food across Amelia’s exposed frame stepped aside as she made her presence known. She loomed over the still writhing Amelia, eyes taking in the messy splotches and patterns of smeared food left by the burly men’s explorations. A moment passed before Amelia’s eyes opened. The prone woman saw the sheer wanton lust in the steely eyes that bore into her. Amelia quivered in fear and desperate expectation as the Baroness leaned ever closer.
“What so ever shall I do with you, Pet?” The Baroness spoke in imperious tones as she took Amelia’s chin in her hand.
Unbeknownst to Willow, Tara’s preparations were nearing completion. The honey blonde hiked up her long skirt, revealing ample curvy thighs and a slightly curved, silicon, phallus. Tara smirked as she readied the strap-on. The toy was translucent with countless flecks of glitter sparkling in its nearly see through purple depths. The head on the end of the shaft was smooth and round, flaring out where it met the shaft. That smoothness continued along the underside of the curved length of the shaft. The texture along the top of the toy’s shaft, however, was a different matter. Behind the top of the ridge at the back of the strap-on’s “head” was another smoothly curved ridge. Behind that lay another ridge, and another, and so on, down the length of the toy until the shaft met the base that lay shrouded in the holster of the belted harness wrapped around Tara’s thighs and waist.
Tara smirked as she brought two of her fingers up to her lips. She moistened her fingers quickly before bringing them back to Willow’s heated folds. The honey blonde wasn’t surprised that her redhead had neglected to wear panties for this particular screening. Willow gasped as she felt Tara delve inside for only an instant, gathering moisture before retreating.
“Please!” Willow whimpered just as Amelia moaned an identical plea on screen. She turned to beg Tara to continue only to gasp in renewed shock as the glistening strap-on caught her eye.
Tara smiled coyly as the Baroness gripped Amelia’s hair. “Climb into my lap, Sweetie,” Tara ordered in a seductive whisper as the Baroness captured Amelia’s lips with her own. “Keep facing the screen.”
Willow could only nod and follow the orders of her always. Without hesitation, Willow hiked up her own skirt and hopped over the armrest that separated her from Tara. She let out a giddy little moan as she lowered herself onto Tara’s cock. Shivers ran up and down the redhead’s spine as every groove and bump along Tara’s thick shaft gripped and tugged at her inner walls. Just as Willow thought she could take no more, her quivering pussy lips came to rest against the smooth leather of Tara’s harness.
“Nice and slow, Sweetie,” Tara said as her hands cupped Willow’s ass cheeks. “In,” The honey blonde whispered as she gripped Willow by the hips and ass. “And out.” She lifted the lithe redhead upwards several torturous inches. A shudder ran through Willow’s body. Just as Willow began to fear the toy would slip out of her sopping wet pussy, Tara turned the tables on her once again. “And in,” Tara growled as she gripped Willow’s hips and ass even tighter. In one rough flourish, Willow was impaled by her always. Shaking hips slammed down onto the ribbed shaft. Aching pussy lips pressed once more against the smooth leather of the harness.
“Fuck!” Willow screamed as she felt Tara’s ridged girth forced inside her quaking depths. Emerald eyes slammed shut and Willow forgot to track the goings on of the men and women on the giant screen before her. “Oh fuck!” She went on in a slightly quieter voice. “Baby, you’re so big.”
“You like that, Sweetie?” Tara asked as she hoisted Willow up once again only to immediately bring her crashing down onto sweet agony.
“Fuck, yes! Tara, please, please, Baby.” Willow began to beg as Tara repeated the violent up and down motion with slender hips still firmly in her grasp.
“Please what, Sweetie?” Tara asked as she smirked. While waiting for an answer Tara halted her movements and held Willow in place. The redhead began to panic as she felt the tip of the strap-on just barely teasing her entrance. She needed more.
“Don’t stop...” Willow begged as she tried to wriggle her hips downwards, completely oblivious to the world outside of Tara and the glorious shaft that connected them. “Don’t stop fucking me! Fuck me harder. Make me scream for it!”
“My pleasure.” Tara and the Baroness whispered in unison. As steady female hands began to roam over Amelia’s body once more, even steadier hands tightened on the freckled skin of Willow’s hips. Willow found herself forced back down the entire length of Tara’s shaft in one quick thrust. She thrashed at the sudden fullness. Her head crashed backward onto Tara’s waiting shoulder.
Tara began to suck and nip along the weakest spots of Willow’s neck, all the while forcing the redhead’s hips up and down. Loud moans of agonized rapture filled the room, only to be ignored by literally all moviegoers sitting beyond the confines of Tara’s front row seat.
After several more rapid thrusts, Tara brought Willow’s hips to a halt with the toy still buried to the hilt in the redhead’s pussy. “Beg for me, Willow,” Tara whispered into the haze of lust and exquisite delight that fogged Willow’s mind.
Willow wasted no time as she began to rock her hips back and forth into Tara’s lap. She cried out as the base of the strap-on ground into her swollen lips and clit. “Fuck! Tara! So good. You’re so good, Baby. No one fucks this pussy like you do, Tara!”
“Whose pussy is it?” Tara asked, knowing full well the answer.
“Your pussy!” Willow cried out as she felt herself slipping closer and closer to the edge of the abyss Tara had dangled her over. “It’s your pussy, Tara. Always!”
Tara took the empty soda cup from her armrest and popped the lid off with one hand. She moved the cup in front of Willow’s pussy, bringing her free hand around to torment the redhead’s throbbing clit. “Come for me, Willow.”
With that command, Willow’s world melted away. The redhead cried her ecstasy to the heavens as torrents of her essence shot forth into the waiting mouth of the nearly empty plastic cup. Willow’s entire body vibrated in the devastating wake of the climax Tara had brought her. So powerful were the quakes that Tara could feel each and every ripple of Willow’s inner walls through the shaft still affixed to her pelvis. It was several minutes of uninterrupted whimpers and moans before either young woman could speak.
“Goddess, you are amazing.” Willow let out a rasped whisper as she tried to find her voice.
Tara couldn’t help but smirk as she held up the nearly full large cup she had bought from the concession stand. “So are you, Sweetie.” She nearly laughed as Willow’s eyes widened in shock.
“Oh Goddess, did I refill that whole thing?” Willow cringed in mortification. Had Tara’s hold on the girl not been so steadfast, the redhead might have slipped out of Tara’s lap and onto the floor. Tara held firm though. Her arm around Willow’s waist and her faux cock still buried several inches deep inside Willow’s pussy, ensuring that her everything would not be going anywhere.
“I love you, Willow,” Tara assured her always. “I love everything about you.” Another sly smirk spread across Tara’s face before she continued. “Plus, you know what they say, don’t you?”
“What do they say?” Willow couldn’t begin to guess where Tara was going with any of this. She would have cringed if she remembered the first time they had heard the dirty joke that was currently running through Tara’s mind.
Tara’s expression held near angelic innocence as she recited the joke. Though crude, it had made her laugh uncontrollably while Willow cringed in embarrassment the first time they had heard it in a comedy club. “Remember fellas. If you find a squirter in college, you marry her!”
Willow balked at the crude utterance as Tara just laughed and held the redhead from behind. Eventually, Willow joined her always in laughter. The lid was soon put back on the now full drink cup, and Willow basked in Tara’s embrace. They watched the conclusion of Amelia’s adventures on the banquet table. Not once did Willow even think of extracting the dildo from her depths. Not until the credits rolled at least.
*****
The Slayers walked out of the Sun Cinema, the petite blonde practically wrapped around the arm of her brunette love. A dreamy expression was plastered across her face as they stepped into the cool early evening air.
With a playful grin, Faith turned to her smiling girl and asked the question she already knew the answer to. “So, B. Good movie?”
“Oh yes.” Buffy nodded as she looked up to Faith’s expressive brown eyes. “I loved every minute of it. It was very… “artistic.”
“Mmm, so artistic.” A voice from behind the Slayers caused Buffy to practically leap into the air. Faith and Buffy both spun to confront the interloper, only to halt at the laughing redhead and the smirking honey blonde. “Hey, guys!” Willow waved her free hand while the other remained interlaced with Tara’s. “So, Buffy, how was your first time seeing such an “artistic” film?”
The Slayer gaped in shock at the sight of both witches, and their amused expressions. “Willow! Tara! What are you guys… I mean… It was good! Very “artistic.”
“Yes, very “artistic.” Tara deadpanned with a smirk and a nod.
Faith chuckled as she listened to her girl squirm before her housemates. “Plus that naked chick they spread out on that big ass table had great tits.”
“Faith!” Buffy’s protest was practically drowned out by laughter from the three other Scoobies around her. “That’s it! If you’re gonna get this worked up over some… actress… I’m just gonna have to get a kimono and show you how it’s done!”
Faith’s laughter died in the back of her throat as she stared at her girl’s adorable indignation. “Promise?” She whispered low enough that the witches right beside them could barely hear.
“Well...” Buffy played up her indecision for a long moment. She coyly brought her index finger up to her chin, as if pondering all the ramifications of prancing around in front of her girlfriend wearing nothing but the shortest, skimpiest, sexiest kimono she could find. Buffy gave the seemingly desperate brunette an appraising look before a wide smile broke out across her face. “Sure. Why not?”
“Hot damn, B!” Faith shouted in joy as she picked up her girl and spun are around in the air. The Slayers laughed as they twirled for several long moments until Faith finally set Buffy down and pulled the petite blonde flush against her body. Their kiss lasted for several more heart achingly tender moments before an irreverent hooting shattered their intimacy. The offending gawker walking in the nearby crowd was immediately silenced by four murderous glares. Once the slightly inebriated man fled in terror the Slayers turned their attention back to one another. “You’d seriously wear that sexy little number for me, Buffy?”
Buffy smiled as she heard the slightly timid tremor running through Faith’s last question. “Of course, Faith. You’re not the only one who got all worked up in there. I figure it’ll be fun to rub your nose in it a little...” She trailed off as the most perplexed expression sapped her flirty smile. “Suddenly wondering where that expression comes from.”
Faith couldn’t help but pull her girl all the closer as she husked lustful little scenarios in Buffy’s ear. “Prance around in a see through kimono for me and we’ll both come from me rubbing my nose all up in your hot little bod.”
Knowing her words might fail her as Faith tightened their embrace, Buffy resorted to the best way she knew to convey her affections for her girl. The kiss lasted far longer than the previous one. Only interrupted by Willow and Tara once the four Scoobies were the only ones left standing on the street in front of the theater.
“So… patrol?” Willow asked as the Slayers’ kiss finally ground to a close. “We had this demon we needed to meet, but after that Tara and I were thinking hot cocoa.”
“How bad is the demon?” Buffy groaned as she let her head fall to Faith’s shoulder.
“Not bad but not really good.” Willow was quick to temper the Slayers’ blood lust. “He’s got a rare set of books and is willing to sell.”
Tara nodded along as Willow explained the trade they had set up.“The kind of books we don’t want on the open m-market.”
“So we’re buying merch off evil demons now?” Faith asked.
“He’s not strictly evil, just, morally dubious, and kind of skeezy,” Willow trailed off as she led her girlfriend and the Slayers towards the nearest cemetery. On their way Buffy noticed Tara toss what sounded like a mostly full, large, concession stand drink from the theater into a nearby trashcan.
Tara realized Buffy was watching her and gave the petite blonde a sly smile. “The soda machine must have run out of syrup. The refill came out a little salty.” Buffy nodded along at the simple explanation as Willow choked back a fit of laughter.
Soon enough the four young women were strolling through one of Sunnydale’s nicer cemeteries. The Slayers were on high alert as the witches just rolled their eyes while scanning the darkness near one of the larger crypts. “Skyler!” Willow called out as they came to a halt several paces from the front of the crypt. “Are we doing this trade or not? Come on out!”
A nasally, high pitched voice coming from a nearby patch of shadows drew the attention of both Slayers. “I said to come alone.”
“Relax guys, he’s just nervous,” Willow waved off the concerned Slayers before addressing the demon once more. “This is a hellmouth, Skyler. It’s dangerous at night and what you’re selling is even more dangerous in the wrong hands. Hands which would kill all of us if given half the chance. Now, are you going to come out here and show us the books? Or am I taking my friends and my money and hitting up the Espresso Pump for some hot cocoa?”
“Ooh, actually cocoa sounds good right about now,” The demon put on a forced grin as he stepped out of the shadows. The Slayers took in his slender, diminutive appearance. He was only about as tall as Buffy and wore ordinary human clothing. Dull brown shoes, a pair of dark slacks, a dark brown jacket over a dull beige button up shirt, and a fedora that almost matched the jacket. The Slayers also noticed his blotchy, ashen skin, thick blond mutton chops, pointed ears, beady yellow eyes, jagged teeth, and the two pale, bony horns jutting from his forehead just below the hat. “I don’t suppose I could get some too?”
Willow just rolled her eyes as the Slayers looked the weaselly demon over. “Hand over the books and we’ll get an extra cup that Faith and Buffy can run back to you.”
“You got my five grand?” He asked the seemingly bored redhead.
“I’ve got two grand and some spare walking around money.” Willow was not interested in any real haggling, but agreeing to his initial asking price without killing him would set a bad precedent for any future demons they dealt with who were actually evil. “Now for the last time, do you have the Books of Ascension or not?”
“Okay, okay, I got ‘em,” Skyler admitted as he saw Faith’s bored look turn into a more menacing glare. “They’re in one of the bushes near that crypt over there. I’ll tell you which one after I get my three grand.”
“Two.” Willow rolled her eyes as she refused to budge.
Skyler fumed before recalling that there were two notoriously short tempered Slayers watching him. “Two and a half and you’re paying for my cocoa.”
“Deal!” Willow pulled out two stacks of bills wrapped with simple yellow and white currency straps that read “$1,000” across the sides, and a large rolled up wad of loose hundred dollar bills. She peeled off five and handed them and the two stacks to the grinning demon.
“Pleasure doing business with you ladies,” Skyler kept up his forced grin as he led Buffy and Faith over to the nearby bushes. “Here they are, the Books of Ascension. One of a kind, original editions. All in good condition, save for some wear on one spine and some foxing.”
“What does a demon want all that money for?” Buffy asked.
Skyler flinched before looking at the petite blonde with a truly befuddled expression. “Is she serious?” He asked Faith, only to receive another cold glare. He decided to answer as politely as possible. “Plane tickets. I’m getting out of this berg while I still can.”
Buffy’s curiosity was piqued. “What’s got you running scared?”
“Aside from two mated Slayers killing almost everything in sight?” His question shocked Buffy but had little impact on Faith. “Let’s just say I don’t want to get caught in the middle of your witches over there and whatever evil, world ending, thing decides to pick a fight with them next. First the old mayor and his Ascension, then Wolfram&Hart, the Beast! For fuck’s sake, they killed “The” Beast! No one in the know believes it was that pompous knight jackass. Half the ones who knew what Glorificus was are convinced they powered you up and pointed you at her, and the other half think the redhead offed the Beast herself. Between two all powerful witches and two infamous Slayers who slaughtered the Master, the whole Sisterhood of Jhe, and who knows how many minor league nobodies the Hellmouth just isn’t safe anymore. Whatever takes you girls on next is gonna be all the way over on the crazy side and I’m not gonna be anywhere near that fight.” Buffy contemplated the demon’s panicked words as she and Faith each carried half of the books back to Willow and Tara.
In a few short moments, the four Scoobies and the nervous demon were walking back towards the entrance of the cemetery closest to the Espresso Pump. The girls left the demon to lurk in the shadows while they headed to retrieve their hot cocoa. The demon thought about running as soon as they left him but something in Buffy’s stunned silence after his little speech stayed his movements. A few minutes later both Faith and Buffy came walking back towards him holding a cardboard drink tray of large cups full of steaming beverages. The Slayers handed Skyler his drink and he nodded in silent acceptance. He took a few sips while the Slayers nodded and waved their goodbyes. Once he was alone again the demon sighed his relief. He clutched his hot cocoa and the pocket filled with his money and began the short walk back to his rundown apartment. He had packing to do.
*****
A few hours past noon, Angel slunk into his new lair through the sewer grate in the basement apartment. He had spent the better part of the day underground, chasing dead ends and baseless rumors. Finally, he stumbled upon a lead. Though no one knew where Darla and Drusilla went after he slaughtered their minion auditions and set them ablaze, one shifty demon knew Darla’s next target. With that lead, the cursed vampire regained his motivation. He now knew the prize Darla sought. He knew there would be no end to the trouble she would cause with that artifact in her possession. More importantly, he knew who currently held the prize.
Angel shucked off the clothes he had worn while slogging through the sewers. He made his way into the small bathroom tucked behind a curtain in the corner of his dreary bedroom. Before he could continue the hunt a shower was needed. When night fell he would be ready. He would find the sorcerer that raised Darla. He would take the Cup of Perpetual Torment from the man who had caused so many problems. He would stop Darla.
*****
“You lot certainly didn’t have to go to this much trouble,” Giles said as Dawn stuck a tiny conical party hat on his head. He held back a flinch as the thin rubber strap struck the underside of his chin. Dawn’s reply further undid his restraint.
“Sure we did, Papa Giles!” The young teen’s cheer did nothing to dissuade the Englishman from cringing. “That’s what family is all about.”
“Dawn stop picking on Giles,” Buffy ordered as she strode into the dining room with a serving platter full of appetizers. “Why don’t you go see if Mom, Jen, Cassie, and Tara need any help in the kitchen?”
“Fine.” Dawn let out an annoyed huff as she stood to leave. She threw her arms around Giles once more and kissed his cheek before turning and running into the kitchen. For her part, Buffy simply rolled her eyes as she placed the platter full of what looked like tiny quiches on the table.
“So how are you handling Hurricane Dawn?” Buffy asked as she took a seat beside her watcher.
“There are times I envy her youthful enthusiasm,” Giles admitted with a sigh. “I can’t, however, fault her for having her heart in the right place. The two of you have made me feel truly welcomed in your home. Thank you, Buffy.”
“Giles, you...” Buffy’s voice trailed off as tears built in the corners of her eyes. “You’re gonna get me all weepy before party pictures!” She laughed and cried in false annoyance as she tried to wipe away tears. A moment passed before she was able to go on in a serious tone. “You make Mom so incredibly happy. Plus you let me and Faith get away with stuff it sounds like no other watcher would ever let slide. Hell, you encourage me to find love in a place that most men would disown their daughters for going. The least I can do is yell at Dawn when she’s being a brat about a stupid nickname you hate.”
“Buffy...” Giles trailed off as the Slayer’s words sunk in. For a moment it looked like her heartfelt sentiment angered the man. After a small pause, the librarian took his Slayer’s hand and continued his assurances. “It vexes me to no end that your father would scorn you for finding true happiness in a world so very literally hell-bent on denying you said happiness. Not only is the love you girls share healthy and natural, it is truly one of the most supportive relationships I have ever witnessed. Never waste a moment’s thought on the small minded opinions of those who would scorn you and Faith, or Willow and Tara, or even your friend Larry and that nervous young fellow Willow put in the mayor’s seat. Those people and their bigotry hold no merit. Their opinions certainly hold no weight with me.”
The heartfelt sincerity in his eyes was all it took for Buffy to act. The Slayer wrapped her arms around her watcher and nearly lifted him from his seat at the table. Giles returned the hug, even trying not to gasp in pain as Buffy’s superior physical strength came out of hiding. The Slayer caught his wheeze and loosened her grip ever so slightly.
With tears in her eyes, Buffy whispered one of the most important truths in her life. Though she almost never admitted it, the man in her arms held a place in her heart that her biological father never could. “I love you, Giles.”
Giles heard the sentiment and soon Buffy’s stray tears were joined by his own. “I assure you, dear girl, the feeling is mutual.”
Several heartwarming moments passed before Buffy registered something Giles had said. The petite blonde leapt to her feet, eyes wide as she connected certain dots in her head. “Wait! Did you just say that Larry and Mayor Finch are dating?”
“Of course they’re dating,” Giles scoffed before he noticed the Slayer’s confusion. “Come now, Buffy. Surely you’ve seen the way they both look at each other. For heaven’s sake, the man has been to each and every school football game Larry has played in the last year. Even the away games. There may be a slight age gap, but they’re both consenting adults.”
“I had no idea,” Buffy admitted as she stared off into the distance.
Giles smiled as his charge fought off daunting recriminations of her own obliviousness. “In your defense, you have been rather busy wiping out the vampire population of an active hellmouth. One can hardly blame you for not involving yourself in the personal affairs of each and every acquaintance.”
Before Buffy could spend any more time moping over her own self-involvement Joyce called out her name from the kitchen. Buffy smiled at Giles before racing away to grab the last few trays of food. The time for recriminations was over. The party was about to begin.
*****
“Okay pivot it to the left just a little, no wait! Too far!” Xander yelped as the oversized object nearly crashed into one of the back walls of the Summers home.
“Damn it, Xander, chill out!” Faith snapped back as she set down her end of the massive burden. “Okay, this is gonna take some doin’ to get through the kitchen and into the living room. Red, wanna go get B and distract the G Man for us?”
“Oh, good idea, Faith,” Willow agreed. The redhead ran up the steps of the back porch and into the kitchen door.
The Slayer turned back to the dejected young man standing at the other end of the long, poorly wrapped object. With a sigh, she shook her head and spoke in a more gentle tone than she had only moments ago. “Hey, sorry for yellin’ at ya.”
“It’s okay.” Xander was quick to make amends with the brunette. “I’m just worried about wrecking the place trying to get this thing inside.”
“Me too,” Faith admitted as she looked up to the back door of her girlfriend’s home. “So you really slapped this huge thing together while B and I were out on patrol every night?”
“Kinda needed something to do since I moved in with you guys,” Xander said. “Didn’t want to just be this burden hanging around Jen’s house all day long. Needed to keep busy.”
“Hey, none of that bullshit!” Faith snapped once more as the young man’s sullen tone registered. “You are no one’s burden ya big dumbass. You ain’t some charity case Red and Blondie took in just to lord it over later. You’re family.”
Xander smiled at the overtly forceful praise. “Thanks, Faith. I needed that. If anyone was gonna get it I knew you would.”
“We got all the worst shit in common, X man.” Faith sighed as she leaned against the back wall of the Summers house. “The “dads” we got stuck with were genuine pieces of shit and our moms were too busy enjoying the drinking and the passing out parts of life. Don’t mean we gotta stand for that kind of shit. That’s the one thing B and Jen are always tellin’ me. I deserve better,” The Slayer eyed her male friend for a long moment before driving the point home. “An’ so do you.”
“I’m starting to get that,” Xander admitted as Faith came over and put an arm around his shoulder. An amused smirk formed on his face before he dove into a joke that might have won him a black eye a year ago. “You’re the best “little brother” a guy could ask for.”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up asshole.” Faith muttered as the back door of the Summers home opened.
“Hey, guys. Will said there was a job back here that called for another Slayer.” Buffy was as bright and cheery as ever, not once questioning the closeness between her girl and their almost adopted brother.
“Oh thank the Goddess,” Faith cried out as her girl came within hugging distance. “B, help me haul this big dumb birthday present the Xand man made for Giles. We gotta slip it in through the back ‘cuz someone didn’t wanna risk the birthday boy catchin’ a glimpse by dragging it through the front door.”
“Sure thing, Honey.” Buffy agreed with ease and the two Slayers lifted the massive present into the air as if it weighed nothing at all. Xander watched as they worked in perfect synchronicity, carrying the oversized burden inside without so much as brushing against the door frame. He hoped his handmade gift would be well received.
*****
Darla sped through the desert in her stolen car. The last glimmers of sunlight fading away in the distance. Nothing could stop her now. Before the sun rose over the desert she would clutch the Cup of Perpetual Torment in her cold undead hands. With it, she would ruin the destiny Angelus prized above all else. She would change fate. She would ruin that ungrateful boy, and no English sorcerer or magic dabbling Gypsy would stand in her way.
*****
The top was up as Angel drove his black, second hand, convertible across the barren desert landscape. There was no time to pull over and put the top down as the sun slipped behind the desert’s distant horizon. He would beat Darla to the abandoned underground water reservoirs. He would find the warlock. He would find Darla. He would stop whatever they planned to do with the Cup of Perpetual Torment. No matter their schemes he would stop them. He would finish things once and for all, and no obscure magic goblet would stop him.
*****
“Our pets are on their way.” Ethan Rayne practically vibrated with giddy delight as he went about the final planning stages for the evening’s entertainment. “I can’t wait to spring the trap. So exciting!”
Jenny could only roll her eyes at the gleeful English sorcerer. “Sure. Can’t wait.”
Ethan sobered as he noticed the almost sullen expression on the gypsy’s face. “Come now, my dear. This is the culmination of all our hard work. After this night, the vampire’s misery will be assured. This is your people’s vengeance taken to a higher level. This is what it takes to make that dear boy hit rock bottom.”
“And the watchers really had to die to make that happen?” Jenny’s question was given with a hard glare cast Ethan’s way. For a long moment, the sorcerer just stared at the gypsy. The silence between them carried on until it was clear they could not move on without addressing the morbid topic.
Ethan sighed as he shook his head. He brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. A moment later he tore the hand away as he recalled seeing one of his oldest friends perform the same gesture countless times. When he was finally ready to speak Ethan looked into Jenny’s steady glare. “They were already dead.”
The gypsy’s eyes widened in horror at the implication. “What?”
“The watchers council wet work teams.” Ethan went on in a tired tone. “They’re all dead. It’s just going to take them a while to see the truth.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jenny was resolute as she questioned the man she had spent so many hours plotting beside. The man who claimed steadfast dedication to enacting her people’s vengeance.
Ethan took a deep breath before going on with the long awaited explanation. Not once had he questioned the need for full disclosure with the woman. He knew he would need Jenny on his side going forward. “According to my benefactor, every petty thug, bully, and killer on the council payroll are living on borrowed time. The whole lot are destined to die. In a few short years, they will be gone along with the current leadership of the council. The victims of the opening salvo in the coming war.”
“War? What war?” Jenny leapt to her feet at the thought of those she still cared about in Sunnydale being dragged into any potential war. “We need to warn Rupert and his Slayer!”
Ethan held up a hand just as Jenny began to pace in a nervous panic. “I assure you, my dear, I care for Ripper just as much as you.” Jenny’s incredulous glare proved how far he still had to go to prove himself. When he spoke again it was with a hard edge the gypsy could not ignore. “Do not question my feelings for Rupert Giles. You flirted and toyed with him for a few scant months in between the both of you masquerading as public school teachers. I have known that man since we were both reckless, self-indulgent, children. He may pretend those days are long gone now that he’s playing house with Slayers and witches, but for me, they will never end. The Rupert you flirt and fawn over is a poor mask worn by my Ripper. So forgive me, my dear, but do not for one second, question how much I care for that man!”
Words could not describe the shock and confusion waging a pitched battle within the gypsy. She nearly gasped at the unheard of display of emotion from the normally smarmy sorcerer. She had never seen the man show genuine emotion before. The fact that those emotions revolved around the man she once had a crush on only exacerbated her bewilderment.
“Okay,” Jenny whispered as she tried to calm the agitated sorcerer. “Okay. I believe you. We both care about Rupert. So obviously we need to warn him and the kids about this war.”
Ethan let out a sigh before leveling another unamused look at the woman. “They already know.”
“What?” Jenny’s shout almost brought the smirk back to Ethan’s face.
“My dear, they already know what they need to know at the moment. My benefactor has already disclosed all that it is safe to reveal at present, and will continue to do so as the situation changes.” The sorcerer paused before going on with what he hoped would be the last assurance Jenny needed. “When the war comes to Sunnydale the chosen one will face it and win. There will be losses. There will be pain, and suffering, and death. We won’t all make it, but I swear before the Goddess herself, the work we are doing will aid Ripper and each of his children.”
It was a long moment before Jenny asked the obvious question. “Who is this benefactor of yours?”
“I’ll tell you just as soon as I get permission.” The sorcerer deadpanned before turning away. There was still much work to be done before the vampires stormed the underground water reservoir he and the gypsy had enchanted. “Until then, please have a little faith. If you and I play our parts just right, all the good people we care for will make it through to the other side.”
*****
“You got Giles a scarf?” The Slayer’s confusion nearly filled the living room as the watcher unwrapped the present given by the youngest Summers.
“Not just any scarf,” Dawn said as the Englishman let a small amused smirk play across his face. “It’s a Harry Potter Scarf!”
“Because he’s British?” Willow asked.
“Yup,” Dawn agreed.
Buffy’s perplexed expression remained firmly in place. “But we live in southern California.”
Giles smiled at the beaming girl as he loosely wrapped her crimson and gold striped present around his neck. “It’s lovely Dawn. I shall wear it whenever we experience another bout of magical snow blotting out the sun.”
“Knowing this town that could be any day of the week,” Xander added as Dawn continued to grin with pride.
“Okay, who’s next?” Joyce asked as she stood up from her perch on the armrest of Giles’ chair. “Willow? Tara?”
“Oh, we kinda got one gift,” Willow said as she nervously looked to the amused librarian.
“But it’s a set,” Tara added as she and the redhead went to retrieve their offering. “So it’s kind of a gift-set.”
“I’m sure whatever it is it’ll be lovely,” Giles assured the witches.
“Here they are!” Tara put on an overly cheerful tone as she and Willow set a large bright red box wrapped with one giant white ribbon on the watcher’s lap.
Giles glanced towards Willow with a curious expression before he carefully untied the bow the ribbon formed atop the box. A moment later he removed the lid and carefully lifted the first of the half dozen worn and ancient tomes resting inside.
“Books?” Xander asked before a playful smirk grew on his face. “Well, they say “Know your audience.”
“I must say these look rather important,” Giles muttered as he absently appraised the first of the battered manuscripts.
“The Books of Ascension,” Willow elaborated in a knowing voice. “Original editions and everything… Well, only editions more like.”
Tara nodded along with her always. “This is probably the last full s-set in the world.”
“Ascension.” Giles paused as he tore his focus from the volume in his hands. “You’ve mentioned that before. In regards to the old mayor.”
Willow gave an almost infectious grin as she elaborated for her assembled family. “Yes-sir-ee! He would have gotten someone to steal these books for him just so we wouldn’t learn the full details behind the ascension ritual before the eclipse on graduation day. We trashed his own research pretty good when we took care of him so these might be the only surviving instructions on how somebody can destroy everything that makes them human and become a pure demon.”
“An Old One, you said.” Giles grew quiet as he stared at the tome in his hands. He couldn’t begin to imagine just how dangerous these books were in the wrong hands.
“Shit, that scruffy little demon was just gonna sell these to whoever came along?” Faith’s tone straddled the line between incredulous and disappointed.
“We tracked him down and made it clear we would be the only interested party,” Willow said as she led Tara back around the coffee table and sat her girlfriend down on the couch. In moments the redhead had taken her rightful seat, perched in the honey blonde’s lap. “Not that hard with our reputation.”
“Laying it on a little thick Sweetie?” Jennifer asked. She watched the redhead flinch and fidget in her daughter’s lap as matching smirks grew on both her and Tara’s faces. It was several amusing seconds before Willow noticed the barely stifled giggling fit building in her everything. Her frown was all but instantly swept away as Tara kissed her temple.
“Okay!” Faith leapt from the couch, clapped her hands, then pulled her girl up beside her. “B, you wanna show off our gifts next?”
“You betcha!” The Slayer cheered. All befuddlement concerning her sister’s gift forgotten. “We Put a lot of thought into these.”
Faith smirked as she and Buffy left the room. “And a few wooden stakes.”
More than a few confused glances were shared before Giles sighed at his students’ odd pride. “I believe the girls are going to present some sort of battle trophy from their patrols.” Realization was soon replaced with dread at the gruesome prospect. Only one Scooby dared vocalize the group’s fear.
“Sweet, merciful, Zeus. Please let it be anything but a necklace made of severed demon parts.” Xander’s comment was met with stunned gasps and a weary eye roll from the Englishman awaiting unknown gifts.
Dawn actually perked up at the grim prospect. “What if it’s like a severed hand, but the hand is also a necklace on a gold chain, and wearing a few magic rings!”
“Dawn!” Joyce, Jennifer, and Cassie chastised the girl as Willow and Tara went pale. Fittingly enough it was Giles who diffused the situation.
“That would be a sight, but doubtful. Mystic jewelry is a rare enough oddity. I doubt the girls would have kept it a secret if they faced any threats armed with such things.” Giles paused as he considered the room. “Though I suppose Faith’s housemates might have been persuaded to round out a full set from their own secret trophy collection.”
“Oh no!” Willow shook her head vigorously. “No, no, no. We don’t keep magic rings. Too much trouble. There’s even a few we don’t go looking for until we hear someone else has already started looking. The best way to deal with them is to leave them buried for as long as you can.”
“A part of me doesn't even want to know,” Xander said as he saw the Slayers come around the corner. “Another part of me is just grateful that the golf bag they’re holding is too big for hiding something small like a dozen demon ears on a string.”
“Xander!” Buffy snapped as Faith burst out laughing. “We don’t keep trophies like that!”
“Strictly shinies X man.” Faith added as she set the golf bag down in front of Giles’ recliner. “I ain’t nearly messed up enough to hoard fingers and ears. Plus Mrs. M and B vetoed my skull collection.” She finished the morbid explanation with a suggestive wink. Xander couldn’t help but pale at the brunette’s horrifying joke.
Buffy let out a disgusted huff before shaking her head and looking to Giles. “Quick Giles, check out your gifts before someone drives us all into the off topic ravine again.”
“Conveniently located near “unexpected distraction canyon” and “Wait! What were we doing again? gulch.” Dawn quipped while high fiving Xander.
Before another round of quips could start Giles reached into the golf bag. His hand grazed an object he found all too familiar. With a surprised grin, the librarian drew a long sword with an emerald encrusted golden hilt and pommel. He smiled and raised the sheathed weapon for all to see. “Remarkable.”
“That one’s from me.” Buffy grinned. “There’s a matching dagger in there.”
“And something else,” Giles said as he drew a sheathed rapier with an ornate guard and hilt made of interwoven silver strands twining around countless tiny rubies. “Spectacular.”
“And that’s mine G man,” Faith chimed in as Giles appraised both swords. “Had to run a blood sucker down for those blades.”
Giles had set the swords aside and delved back into the golf bag. In no time he had both parrying daggers out for all to see. Each bore the same jewels and ornate designs as their matching sword. “Girls, these are lovely. I presume you claimed these from the dueling cult?”
Buffy nodded with pride. “Yup. The Illuminutty didn’t stand a chance.”
“El Eliminati,” Willow corrected the confused Slayer.
“Pretty sure the Illuminutty are the ones with all the conspiracies about peanut butter,” Xander added.
Buffy could only stare at her two friends in complete confusion. “Huh?”
Giles cleared his throat before the Slayer could be further distracted. “As scandalous as that all may be, I believe there is one more large present left to unwrap.” His gaze shifted to the large, blanket wrapped, monolith standing to one side of the living room. He had no idea what the object could be or who had decided to gift him such a behemoth.
“Ooh, my turn!” Xander cheered as he leapt from his seat at one end of the living room couch. “I think you’re gonna love this G-man. It’s right up your alley.”
“I’m sure it will impress.” Giles rolled his eyes and watched as the teen moved over to the oddly oversized gift. He placed the swords back down on the coffee table before giving Xander his full attention.
“Ladies, Englishmen, and Slayers,” Xander began, only to be cut short by an offended cry from Buffy.
“Hey!” The Slayer’s complaint went unheeded by the young man. “Slayers are ladies too.”
“Sexy ladies,” Faith whispered into her girl’s ear with a sly grin.
“A drum roll if you please.” Xander went on and to his delight, Joyce, Jennifer, Dawn, and Cassie all rapidly clapped their open palms on the nearest armrest or table. The young man smiled wide as he grasped the blanket adorning his gift. With one swift tug, it was pulled free, revealing Xander’s craftsmanship to all.
“My word.” Giles and several of the women in the room let out stunned gasps at the massive piece of woodwork standing before them. “Xander? Did you build this yourself?”
“Yeah, well, sure,” Xander shuffled in place as Giles approached his handiwork. The Englishman’s eyes trailed over sturdy mahogany shelves covered in a dark stain. Intricately carved arcane runes and sigils wove trails up and down the front facing trim. The vaguely pyramid shaped headboard at the top of the bookcase was heavily engraved. Countless interwoven strands formed a Celtic knot that wormed and slithered under the spokes of a raised pentacle. “I mean Will, and Tara helped.”
“We did?” Willow asked as she skeptically eyed her oldest friend.
Tara let out a gasp as she examined the engravings covering Giles’ new bookshelf. “The protection runes you asked us to draw?”
“Yeah!” Xander agreed before turning to Giles. “I figured you and Joyce can never have too many bookshelves. Plus the mystical stuff would be neat to look at. Oh, and check this out.”
Giles watched as Xander reached into one of the shelves and pressed the back panel. To the librarian’s surprise, the entire wood slat that made up the back wall of the shelf swung forward on a hinge. Behind the panel was a red velvet lined compartment that could easily house multiple large tomes if they were placed parallel to the back wall of the bookcase.
“Each of the shelves has one of those hidden compartments for those dark juju books that might need to be hidden.” Xander went on before moving off to one side of his gift. “Plus these.” The young man pressed against the outside panel along one side before moving behind the shelf and pressing on the opposite side. Both side panels swung free, revealing more velvet lined compartments with sets of rounded pegs at various points. “For swords and stakes and stuff. Knowing the Buffster and her alternative lifestyle choices, you can never have too many hidden weapons around the house.”
Buffy’s outrage began in earnest but soon petered out. “It’s not a lifestyle choice! I love… Oh… you mean the slaying.”
“I mean the slaying,” Xander nodded as he and Faith shared a smirk. “So, Giles, what do ya think?”
“I think,” the librarian looked over the bookshelf once more before turning to Xander with a warm smile. “It’s magnificent. All my gifts are. I’m surprised you each coordinated all your gifts to fit together so seamlessly.”
“Oh, um, we didn’t actually do that.” Willow was hesitant as she corrected the watcher. “Coordinating I mean.”
Joyce looked back and forth between the bookshelf and the teens spread around the room. “But your books and Buffy and Faith’s swords fit perfectly in the secret compartments of Xander’s bookcase.”
“Lucky guess?” Xander said as he gave the Slayer’s mother a shrug. “I mean it wasn’t too much of a stretch to think Giles might need a place to hang up his books and swords. Aside from tea and making out with you what other hobbies does he have Joyce?”
“Xander!” Buffy and Dawn both shouted as the rest of the room burst into laughter.
“Ah, yes. You all know me so well.” Giles smirked as he shared a discreet smile with the woman he adored. A moment later he turned to face his students and charges. The smile never wavered. “I must admit, this is the first time in years I’ve bothered to celebrate the occasion of my birth. I had actually begun dread the prospect when Joyce first brought it up. Though now that I’m standing here with my family, receiving all your warmth and affection, I shall admit you have all given me more than enough reason to celebrate.”
“Giles.” Buffy’s barely restrained tears were overlooked as the Slayer flung her arms around her watcher. Giles returned the strong embrace, never so glad to have long since discarded the council’s archaic rules about professional detachment. Once Buffy finally released the Englishman he was all but immediately set upon by Dawn. Then both Willow and Tara after the youngest Summers had her fill. Even Xander gave the older man a brief embrace.
Lastly, Giles looked up to see his other charge nervously inching her way in his direction. He and Faith shared a knowing look and an eye roll before the librarian nodded to her and opened his arms. Arms which were once more filled with a Slayer, desperate for the love and approval of a kind father figure.
Though the man had long neglected the celebration of his birth, he was glad the others had talked him into throwing a small party for their odd little family. There was no denying that the Scoobies could benefit from any excuse to inject cheer and kindness into their dangerous lives. Who was he to deny his new family a well earned celebratory respite?
*****
“This isn’t like it was last time,” Darla muttered as she descended the stairs into the old, underground, water reservoir. The last time she was here Angel had dragged her weak mortal body down the stairs and thrown her slender frame to the middle of an open stretch of cement that was only interrupted by massive support pillars and the festering corpse of a dead demon that had grown out of the cracks in the concrete like a fungus.
This time things were different. Massive walls had been thrown up around the area where the metal service stairs ended. She could only see one opening in the smooth black walls. It was far off to the left side of the bottom step. With a sigh, Darla went down the only path available to her.
*****
“He changed it,” Angel growled out as he descended the stairs into the old, underground, water reservoir. He expected a wide open area dotted with support pillars. He expected the warlock to have set a trap for them near the entrance. At the very least he expected to see the dead cult leader demon the Hyperion Crew had slain.
Instead, all the cursed vampire saw were sections of unblemished black walls blocking his view in all directions. The only opening in the walls was a narrow passageway to the far right side of the base of the stairs. Without hesitation, Angel went down the path he expected Darla would have been forced to take. He had evil to snuff out.
*****
“The party went well, don’t you think?” Willow asked her always as they walked down the nearly empty alleyways of Sunnydale’s industrial district.
“Yes, Sweetie.” Tara agreed as she did her best to block out the sense of corruption and degradation that emanated from the area. Both witches knew they were on the right track. Their foe and his shoddy lair were close. They could taste the despair of his willing victims.
“Giles liked all his gifts.” Willow went on as they turned a corner and stepped through a mystic veil. “Can you believe Xander made that huge, beautiful bookcase without anyone noticing until he asked Faith to help him carry it next door?”
Tara nodded as she looked around the shoddy, run down, waiting room. She had expected more addicts lining the grimy chairs along the drab walls. “He is a swell carpenter.”
Willow let out a giggle as they moved towards the door at the back of the room. “I thought he was a swell bowler?”
“Hey...” The one junkie sitting in the waiting room complained, weakly raising an arm as the witches passed him by. “Ya gotta wait your turn.”
Tara didn’t even flinch at the addict’s interruption. She simply raised one hand towards him and called up the will and power of the Goddess. Golden light burst into the room, enveloping the junkie. In a moment his eyes cleared and the haze of dark magic clouding his mind began to fade. He looked up to the pair in wonder, only to receive a glare from the annoyed redhead.
“This is your second chance buddy.” Willow snapped at him before turning back to the door at the rear of the waiting room. “Get going.”
The junkie watched as the witches stepped through the door. A moment after he was left alone he got up and fled into the night. He would never again return to Rack’s lair.
On the other side of the waiting room door, Willow and Tara stared down the warlock. As the door closed behind them a head of scraggly gray hair perked up. The gaunt man stood from where he crouched over the small stone circle built into the center of his lair. He slowly turned to face the witches, a lurid smile twisting his cracked lips and scarred face. Rack swayed slightly as he took in the two young women standing before him.
“Well, well,” The warlock chuckled to himself as his eyes roved up and down their bodies. “Not every day I get two fresh strawberries in here. You girls looking for a good time?”
“No.” Tara all but growled as she felt Willow seethe beside her. “We came here to stop you.”
The warlock blinked. He looked between the two witches yet again before another smirk contorted his leering face. The laugh he let slip was anything but kind. “Now that would be a trick.” As he spoke he slowly began to step towards Willow and Tara. One languid finger moved through the air as if it traced the warlock’s very thoughts. “Let me guess, one of my customers was a friend of yours before I showed them a whole new world.”
Willow’s reply was matched with a grin that gave the redhead a far more menacing appearance than her red blouse and tan skirt conveyed. “Something like that.”
“Well I hate to break this to you, Strawberry,” Rack sighed as he lazily rocked back on his heels. “But it’ll take more than the two of you to get me to pack up shop and leave town.”
Any pretense of amusement drained from Willow’s face. “I’d like to test that theory?”
Rack flinched as he felt the mystical power flowing through his sanctum shift and quake. Magick he had accumulated over the last decade of his life unraveled, sending shudders through the walls of his lair. Before he could raise a proper defense he felt the tide turn. Torrents of untold magics came crashing down on his emaciated frame. He stumbled back, unable to bear neither the raw might of the assault or the sheer malice emanating from the two young girls he had so foolishly dismissed.
Willow and Tara clasped hands and spoke in unison. Matching deep voices intoned the words of their spellwork and the will of the Goddess for all to hear. “In the name of the Goddess, we bind you! No longer shall your corruption spread! No longer shall you reap harvests sown from misery and suffering! No longer shall you pervert HER blessings! Goddess let your will work through us! Cleanse this place and its master! Take back that which has been squandered!”
Golden radiance filled the warlock’s small lair. Rack could barely cover his eyes before the searing light engulfed his form. He convulsed as the will of the Goddess scourged his being. Body and soul. Every spell, every contingency, every ounce of power he had ever built up left him in that instant. Never again would he feel the all consuming rush of mystical energy filling his body.
Willow looked down on her former dealer as he writhed in agony on the cold pavement of the now empty alleyway. The lair and waiting room were gone as if they never existed. All that remained was one crippled former warlock, whimpering as divine fire burned away all he once held within his scarred and pallid flesh.
“Please…” Rack begged as he looked up to see hatred and disgust filling emerald eyes. “Kill me...”
“Do you really think you deserve that kind of mercy?” Willow whispered in a voice that gradually lost the all consuming, vindictive, rage it held only moments before. “No, not after what you’ve done.”
“Come on, Sweetie,” Tara said as she took the hand of her always. “The Goddess’ will is done. Leave that thing where it is. Let’s go home.”
“Of course, Baby.” Willow smiled as she turned away from her former dealer and never looked back. “Thank you for helping me through this.”
“You’re mine, Willow. No matter what you face I’ll stand by you and face it too.” Tara’s voice took on the softer, loving tones that were all too familiar to the besotted redhead. “Always.”
“I love you, Baby.”
As the couple left the alleyway the husk in their wake shuddered in agony. What little remained of the former warlock was overwhelmed by pain and misery. Even the weakest magical practitioners would suffer greatly if all their magic was stripped away by force. What had been gouged out of Rack by the Goddess was far greater than any minor practitioner possessed.
Rack was no more. His mental, spiritual, and mystical being had been rent asunder. All that remained was a shivering husk, capable of feeling only the suffering he had wrought upon his customers and his victims.
*****
Angel rounded another corner as he stumbled aimlessly through the maze. He felt like he had been walking for hours. To make matters worse he had yet to see any sign of Darla’s presence. He knew both his sire and the sorcerer who revived her had to be close. If only he could find his way.
The vampire’s luck changed immediately as if the maze itself was reacting to his desperate thoughts. Angel turned another corner and came into a massive stone chamber. The floor was laid out in a broken, discolored checkerboard pattern. Large swaths of black were dotted with lines and clusters of gray squares. Along the wall to both the left and right were stacks of stone tiles with oversized letters engraved on each. Across the room, Angel saw similar tiles on either side of a doorway, not unlike the one he had just stepped through. Unfortunately, the petite blonde figure staring back at him was all the cursed vampire could care to notice.
Both vampires rushed each other ready to fight to the death yet again. As they came to the center of the room their eagerness proved fruitless. Both Darla and Angel slammed into the transparent barrier that bisected the stone room. Dazed and confused, the former lovers tried to look at each other before struggling back to their feet. An amused voice soon stole their attention.
“Oh my, that was rather impressive.” The familiar Englishman dressed in a butler’s waistcoat said as he stood beside the barrier to one side of Darla. “At least until the very end there. To think you both held such devotion the last time we spoke. How things change.”
“You!” Darla shouted. Angel leapt to his feet and growled at the ghost who oversaw the trials he faced. The trials that failed to save Darla.
“Yes, ‘tis I.” The ghost butler gave a small perfunctory bow before studying the vampires. “Hello again, I’ll be assisting you both in this evening’s trial.”
“More trails?” Angel spat his outrage at the incorporeal man. “What happened to the other trials?”
“Ah, good question, Dear Boy.” The ghostly valet said as he casually stepped through the impenetrable barrier separating Angel from Darla. “Life is simply full of trials. I see to the administration and completion requirements of many of the more mystically inclined trials. I don’t just hang around a crypt waiting for lovesick vampires to beg for renewed life. That would get dreadfully boring after a while.”
“So you’re going to test us? Why?” Darla was all too eager to rip the throat out of the incorporeal being. If only the effort could have any lasting effects.
The ghost looked back and forth between the two vampires for a moment before answering. “You both seek the Cup of Perpetual Torment, do you not? Do tell me I haven’t been sent to assist the wrong pair of angsty vampires.”
“I know who has the Cup!” Darla snapped. “And when I kill him I’ll have the Cup, and I’ll finally be able to undo Angel’s stupid destiny and get my Angelus back.”
“That’s what this is about?” Angel’s shout echoed as it filled the stone chamber. “I won’t let you, Darla! I’ll kill that sorcerer myself if I have to!”
“Oh like you even care about your big stupid destiny!” Darla shouted back. “If you really cared you’d still be shacked up with the Slayer and her minions instead of chasing me around every night.”
“Ahem,” The ghost valet cleared his throat just loudly enough to get both vampires looking his way. “Be that as it may, killing the current owner of the Cup of Perpetual Torment doesn’t actually transfer ownership. To claim the Cup of Perpetual Torment you have to beat the trail for the Cup of Perpetual Torment. Which brings us to the items in this very room.”
As the ghost spoke writing began to fill up sections of the walls all along the stone chamber. Each line began with a number and either the word “Down” or “Across.” The tiles by the entryways and the ratio of black to gray squares on the floor suddenly made sense.
“How are the two of you at solving the crossword in the morning paper?”
*****
“I still say you’re overthinking some of this Sweetie,” Tara said as she held Willow in her arms. The couple stood in the middle of their hidden panic room vault, staring at the words scribbled in multiple colors on the whiteboard. “Our “Big Board of Big Bads” is getting smaller all the time.”
Willow fought back the urge to sink further into Tara’s soothing voice and warm embrace. “I know this is insane, but there’s no telling if anything we did differently this time has altered what needs to happen to clear off the rest of these names.”
The couple studied the sections of the board. The first section was written in bright red and decorated with little crimson skulls. The first name, Bastard, remained undisturbed.
“I said “quirky,” Tara sighed as she felt Willow shiver. “We’ll get him, Sweetie. He won’t come between us, ever again.”
“I know,” Was all Willow could say before moving down the red list to two names crossed off in green. Petting Zoo Pals and Snake Bitch had been close calls but ultimately successful. “The Wolf, Ram & Hart and Saga Vasuki were good tests of our latest version of the dimension sealing spell.” The redhead’s eyes skimmed down the list to Sparkles the Body Snatcher, Rock Face, and Maggot Face. “But we still need a catalyst. Like an open portal, a ritual focus from the other dimension, or two people linked by prophecy or demonic contract to the rulers of the other realm.”
“Those three names are long term problems. We have the best people for the job working on them.” Tara said as she looked back up the list to Skankzilla. “I’m just relieved Ben and his crazy sister didn’t put up a real fight.”
“Kinda hard when you swoop in with a dozen Dagon Spheres like a badass mega witch.” Willow reminded her always with a playful smirk. Her attention soon skimmed down the list to Mr. Here’s My Card. “What about D’Hoffryn? I know we haven’t seen Anya yet, but we already saw the doppelganger she called up when she couldn't get a new necklace. We can’t be sure he’s handled yet.”
“Not until we talk to Anya,” Tara added before picking up the gold marker and handing it to Willow.
“Thanks, Baby,” Willow said as she leaned forward and struck out one name written in red. “No more Scraggles, the Junkie Collector! Bye, bye Rack. If only we could call upon the Goddess to bind all our problems.”
“Careful, Sweetie,” Tara warned her everything before the young woman could tempt fate further.
“Right, no sense in wearing out the nuclear option.” Willow then turned her gaze to the second section with names written in black. Multiple colors had been used to cross out half the list. “We killed the Mayor.” She nodded as she read a name already crossed off in red, Tricky Dick, the Snake Wrangler. “Ken and his slave dimension were another test of the sealing spell.” Kool-Aid Man sported a thick green line. “Dennis took care of his mother for us.” Casper’s Nagging Mother was both written in and crossed off with black marker. “We haven’t found the amulet that summons Mr. So You Wanna Be A Star.”
“We haven’t bought the Magic Box yet,” Tara stated as if the two events were one and the same. Both their glances fell to Patches the Real Boy and the mysterious blue question mark by his name.
“Next year is gonna suck,” Willow sighed as she recalled all the problems and troublemakers that derailed the Scoobies’ freshman year of college.
“It wasn’t all bad,” Tara whispered into Willow’s ear with a coy little smile.
“Aside from you, the whole thing was a wash.” Willow murmured as she relaxed into the honey blonde’s arms. “You made the whole thing worth it.” Several tender moments later Willow’s eyes opened and her gaze moved to the last section on the whiteboard. The list of blue names had proven most daunting. “I always get grumpy when I look at the list of kills we have to let Buffy handle. I swear I probably just put The Master up there as Mr. Fruit Punch Mouth just so I could cross off a name right away with Buffy’s blue marker.”
“She’ll get there, Sweetie,” Tara said as she too examined the list. “With a little Faith…”
Willow’s smile was almost too bright to bear. “Oh, I’m so telling our Slayers that you said that.” Attention returned to the list, Willow continued to think out loud. “Mr. Box of Dirt always takes his sweet time to make his move on Buffy. Numero Uno is literally the last light switch we hit before leaving the Hellmouth. The Nutty Professor is the other half of why next year sucks.”
“She’ll find a way,” Tara assured as she gently dragged Willow towards the vault door. “She always does when she has you to stand by her side.” Willow could only smile as Tara’s words gave her the courage to overcome all the trials they had faced and all that which they would undoubtedly face again. For Willow, life with Tara on the Hellmouth was dangerous but ever so rewarding
*****
“What’s the clue for eight across again?” Angel asked as he studied the tiles on his side and the remaining blank spaces on the floor. “It’s ten letters starting with a “D.”
“That sinking feeling from wallowing in low places.” Darla scoffed as she read the clue out loud. “Haven’t you noticed a theme yet with you clues? The answer is Depression.”
“Oh, like your theme is any better?” Angel asked as he moved stone tiles into place.
“Shut up and tell me what four down says, Angelus.” The petite blonde was on her last nerve. They had been forced to work together as a team in order to complete the trial. Neither vampire could see the clues written on the walls on the other’s side of the clear barrier. It had been an hour before they realized the clues they saw only pertained to lines they could not reach without the aid of the other. Little did they know their task was nearing completion. “It’s five letters and it starts with a “B” and ends with a “Y.”
“Nickname for a woman bestowed upon a giftless earth by the grace of god,” Angel smirked as he realized whose name they were referring to. “Let’s see, you’ve already had, Slayer, wood, stake, garlic, watcher, and no less than three pop culture references to Van Helsing knock offs.”
“Buffy.” Darla spat the name like a curse. “Why does every fucking thing always have to come back around to that little schoolgirl and her gang of idiots?”
Angel only scoffed at his sire’s depressed tone. “Yeah, her being the chosen one is so unfair to you.”
The hollow mockery only served to rile up the petite blonde even further. “And Fuck you for choosing her over me Angelus! What did she do for you that I couldn’t?”
The cursed vampire blinked in confusion as he tried to wrap his head around Darla’s flawed, yet outraged, logic. “I chose her? You abandoned me! You cast me out! I tried to do things your way after I got my soul back Darla! You’re the one who forced me to choose! You couldn’t just let me go on eating criminals and degenerates! No! You just had to order me to eat a helpless baby! You just had to watch me drain innocent blood! Well, news flash, honey! Most vampires don’t get off by eating babies! Hell, even Spike would have had second thoughts if Dru handed him a basket full of some random baby. He would have put on his worst cockney accent and asked, “Oy, Luv, where’d the lil’ ol’ nipper come from?”
“Don’t drag Spike and Dru into this!” Darla shouted back as the last of the lettered tiles for the final piece of the puzzle went ignored. “Even those two idiots found a way to make it work. They stuck together. You gave up on us!”
“You could have had me at your side all along,” Angel admitted as he felt all the emotion he held for the woman drain away. “I would have done almost anything for you, but that wasn’t good enough.”
In the midst of their squabbles, the ghost butler reappeared with an all too amused expression in his face. “Delightful as this all may be, you still have those last three letters to place. While this particular trial lacks any sort of time limit, the evening has progressed at a fair pace and you both did enter these testing grounds through a shed in the middle of a barren desert.”
“Stay out of this!” Both vampires shouted without taking their eyes off each other.
“I didn’t need a weakling moping around refusing to eat most of the humans we hunt. As if there’s any real difference between one human and another.” Darla ranted at the absurdity of Angel’s dietary needs. “One bleeds just as well as all the others when you bite into them.”
Angel knew the lie when it was laid bare before him. “Like you didn’t get off to slaughtering whole convents more than any random guy we picked up off the street.”
“That’s different!” Darla snapped before turning away from Angel and the transparent barrier that isolated them. “Enough of this. There’s no point in arguing with you and your soul.” Without looking back at Angel the petite blonde returned to the final line of the giant crossword puzzle. She placed the last letters and stepped back.
“Excellent!” The ghost cheered them on with a clap of his hands. “Now that that’s out of the way we can commence with the tallying of points.”
“Points?” Angel asked as he finally tore his gaze away from Darla.
“Oh my yes,” The butler smiled as he looked over the lettered tiles of the giant stone puzzle. “Your performance was monitored and graded based on certain criteria. Specifically the number of correct answers, the timeliness of solving each clue, which one of you supplied the answer independently of who actually set the tiles, and most importantly of all teamwork.”
“Teamwork?” Both vampires asked with matching panicked tones.
“Oh yes,” The ghost gave them another unconvincing smile before looking to the far wall next to one end of the barrier. A door shimmered into existence on Angel’s side of the divide. “Again, well played. You both performed magnificently, but there can be only one victor. Congratulations are in order once again sir.”
“What?” Darla shouted as she lunged at the barrier. “Damn you, Angel!”
“Yes, quite,” The butler nodded before waving his hand in the blonde’s direction. Darla vanished before Angel’s very eyes.
“What did you do to her?” Angel demanded.
The butler smiled again as he turned to face Angel. “Oh don’t worry, Dear Boy. She’s quite alright. Simply relocated to a more convenient location. Now about your reward.”
Angel stared the incorporeal man down for a moment before taking several long strides towards the newly revealed doorway. Through the archway, he found another stone room with a single pedestal awaiting in its center. Atop the stone pillar rested a golden goblet encrusted with jewels. So ostentatious was the artifact that the cursed vampire had to look around to see if he could find any sign of deception.
“Congratulations are in order, Dear Boy.” The butler’s voice caused the vampire to flinch once more. “You have certainly earned this reward. I can’t imagine how eager you must be to... what was the phrase again? Ah! Shanshu.”
That gave Angel pause. “What do you mean?”
“Why your destiny of course.” The valet could only smile as if he were explaining simple concepts to children. “The Cup of Perpetual Torment allows he who drinks from it to hasten their destiny. Though yours may be a pivotal one it may prove useful to, cut to the chase, as they say. I’m told it will be quite the battle.”
“What about Buffy and Alonna, and the others?” Angel could barely restrain himself as his humanity was dangled before him.
“Oh, they’ll be just fine.” The butler assured. “The goblet can only accelerate your destiny. The others will have to earn their rewards in due time. No shortcuts for your Slayer friends.”
“Alright then,” Angel said as he set his fears aside. The cursed vampire strode forth, claiming the goblet in his cold dead hand. He brought the Cup of Perpetual Torment to his lips. He sipped the lukewarm liquid within, only to immediately spit it out. “Why does it taste like Mountain Dew?”
The valet laughed as the vampire looked to him for some explanation. “Oh, Dear boy. How adorable!” His laughter grew until it echoed off the walls and ceiling of the stone room. Angel watched in confusion that soon turned to fury as the figure shifted and changed.
“Oh my, Angel.” The English sorcerer chuckled as he looked over the vampire he continued to torment. “You really didn’t think it would be that easy, did you, Dear Boy? A magic goblet that looks like every third movie version of the Holy Grail since Monty Python? What’s next? A sword in a stone that can be reached by sticking your hand into a tiny portal conveniently located in LA? A magic ring worn by a summoned demon that will let you ride an elevator down to the hell dimension where the old Senior Partners lived?” The sorcerer’s laughter continued to grow as the vampire seethed. “It should be obvious at this point, Dear Boy. There is never a simple answer. No shortcut that takes you into the final climactic battle. No easy road to happily ever after. Only struggle and anxiety as you realize evil exists in the hearts of all mankind. Oh, there’s good in there too, but never enough.”
Angel glared at the sorcerer whose name he still didn’t know. The cursed vampire could feel nothing, save for the impotent rage directed solely at the Englishman who mocked him so. Laughter filled the room as the sorcerer’s image began to fade from sight. Angel gripped the goblet as the sorcerer vanished. Moments later the stone rooms and walls of the maze also faded from existence. Angel stood in the empty underground water reservoir. There was no sign of Darla. No sign of the sorcerer who raised her. No chance of victory in sight.
With a heavy heart, Angel walked up the metal stairs that led to the desert outside. With each step, despair stripped away a piece of the soul he had so carelessly neglected. As he drove back to his new office and lair, still clutching the gaudy faux artifact, his faith in the world dwindled to its lowest point in centuries.
*****
Angel slouched as he came down the stairs into his basement lair. There was no life behind his motions as he moved through the room. Once standing in the doorway of his bedroom he finally felt the presence that lurked in the shadows behind him.
“What do you want Darla?” He asked as the blonde crept out of his kitchen. He held up the fake goblet they had both fought over. “You want this?” He let the Cup of Perpetual Torment fall to the floor. In an instant, Darla was across the room at his side. Angel lunged just as Darla wrapped her hands around the cup. “Or maybe, what you really want, is this!”
Angel grabbed Darla by the hair and tossed her across the room. All pretense of his care for the woman was gone as he stalked towards her, devoid of emotion. He gripped her by the shoulders and slammed her body against the nearest brick pillar. He leaned in, Darla gasping in confusion as Angel fell back on habits he hadn’t used with her since the gypsy curse ruined him for her. “Maybe, what you really want is this.” The kiss was unexpected, yet Darla soon melted into the clash of lips and tongues.
As soon as it began Darla realized something was off. She managed to shove him away, moving to put herself between Angel and the nearest exit. “Don’t play games with me.”
“I’m not playing,” Angel whispered as he lunged forward. Once back in her personal space, the cursed vampire grabbed his sire and threw her through the coffee table in the middle of his living room. “I just want to feel something besides the cold.”
He was on her again. Taking her in his rough hands. Pushing her around the confines of his underground lair. The third or fourth time he tossed her against a hard surface she began to laugh at the absurdity. “Why are you laughing?” Angel demanded as he tossed his sire onto the bed. “Don’t you feel the cold?”
“What are you doing?” Darla asked as Angel climbed on top of her.
“It doesn’t matter.” He muttered to himself as he ripped the clothing from both their bodies. “None of it matters.” Any fear or concern soon left Darla’s mind as all her dreams came true. Her boy had finally returned to her.
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