Willow and Kennedy entered a smoggy demon bar in Paris called Luxe. It was a dark, decadent place decked out in red neon and black lights, which turned the various demonic faces of the patrons into wildly contorted masks.
Kennedy continued the conversation they were having outside, while Willow scanned the bar.
“All I’m saying is we’ve gotta be prepared in case he’s like some kind of spy,” Kennedy said.
“A spy?” Willow said. She was watchful and alert. It had been years since she’d seen a place like this. Even though she was a witch of considerable power, and her girlfriend was a Slayer of considerable power, Willow felt all creepy with the out-of-place itch.
Kennedy went on. “Yes, a spy. What, like we haven’t encountered that before?”
“Giles is wrong on this one, Kennedy. I can feel it.”
They waded through demon bodies, which is actually even more unpleasant than it sounds.
Kennedy said, “Well, maybe Buffy’s not the only one affected by the spell.”
Willow stopped. She faced Kennedy. “I would know, wouldn’t I? I’m connected to the power. I would feel if someone used it against me.”
Kennedy held up her hands in submission. “Okay. Got it. Backing off.”
“Fine,” Willow said. “Let’s find our guy.”
They meandered through the crowd. Willow felt ruffled. It was affecting her ability to seek out with the magics. Kennedy said she’d back off, but Willow knew. Kennedy didn’t know how to do that.
“It’s not like you’re invulnerable,” Kennedy said.
Willow held her breath.
“All hail the great and powerful Willow,” Kennedy said. “People – witches – they can still get to you.”
“Kennedy,” Willow said, in a tone she hoped sounded put-out.
“Whatever. Just admit it.”
“Stop pushing, Kennedy. I know what you’re getting at. The answer’s a big, resoundy NO.”
“No?”
“No.”
Kennedy pouted. “Fine. Just let him walk in and slaughter us all while we sleep. Hey, why not give him a gas can...”
“That’s enough,” Willow said, louder than she hoped.
The demons in the nightclub stopped and stared at them. Willow took Kennedy by the elbow and maneuvered her to a dark, quiet corner.
“We have a mission here,” Willow said, sternly. “We’re doing what Giles thought was best. If he thought the situation was super dire back in London, we’d be there.”
“Right. That’s because he’s infallible,” Kennedy said, sarcasm dripping.
Willow crossed her arms. “What are you doing? Because this Question Everything routine – it’s not sexy.”
Kennedy said, “I’m saying we should have more say. Where we go. What we do. Who we allow in our house, our circle. You and me, Willow. We know better than Giles or Buffy what’s going on. They’ve been in the game so long, they can’t even see what’s coming.”
“’Kay, first: The house belongs to Buffy and Xander and Giles just as much as it does to me. Second: I’ve been ‘in the game’ just as long as they have,” Willow said. “Besides, they got us this far...”
Kennedy laughed. “You’re right. Can’t argue with that whole ‘What’s worked in the past’ bit. But Buffy – she’s burned out, babe...”
Willow sputtered. “Whoa, Kennedy. Gift horse? Mouth?"
“Huh?”
“Buffy’s the reason we’re here. And Spike played a big part in our whole Surviving Sunnydale thing. Or have you forgotten his incendiary finish? I haven’t. I was right above the seal when that amulet opened a skylight over his head. You can only stand there and trivialize all we’ve been through cause you showed up in the final act,” Willow said.
Kennedy seemed unfazed. She said, “Willow, I’m the next generation. I’m ready to take our battle to the next front. I wanna see a New World. And I want you beside me.”
“I want a New World. I’m a regular New-World-wanting Columbus. But not at the expense of my friends,” Willow said.
Kennedy tilted her head. “It’s not like we’ll ditch ’em, Red. They deserve a little sideline time.”
“What if they don’t want sideline time?”
“They do. It’s all over Buffy. She’ll take any excuse to blow off her classes. And she’s so ready to snuggle up to the Suburbian Idealsville she’s willing to hop in the cal-du-sac with Spike. And she can’t even see it isn’t him...”
“But it is Spike,” Willow said.
Kennedy stroked Willow’s arm. “No, honey. It’s not.”
“I am not continuing this conversation,” Willow said. “We have a job to.”
“But Willow...”
Willow pushed her way through the crowd toward the bar. Just before arriving, she ran headlong into a tall and outlandishly dressed demon with green skin.
He looked down at her, getting ready to toast her with his cosmopolitan, when he recognized who she was.
“It’s you!” they said together.
After a moment’s pause, Lorne fled.
Willow took a blue crystal from her pouch and crushed it in her fist. When she held up her palm, a wave of blue energy spread out through the room, paralyzing everyone it touched. Willow walked up to Lorne and brushed his shoulder. He unfroze, shook himself, then turned to face her.
“That is one show-stopper you’ve got there. Make no bones. But I’m not sticking around for an encore,” he said.
Willow went all business. She said, “The spell gives us about five minutes before the stronger-willed ones start to wakey. You sought asylum from the Watcher’s Guild in Switzerland. I’m here to grant it.”
Lorne sipped his drink. “I’m supposed to be in hiding,” he said.
She looked him up and down. “In that tie?”
He waved his hand. “Call it glitter camouflage,” he said.
“Look,” Willow said. “You know what went down at W&H, right?”
“I do. But I’m out. Which means this bird don’t sing,” Lorne said.
“Spike survived,” Willow said.
“Good for him. I’ll send a post card,” Lorne said. Then his shoulders sagged and he dropped the act for a beat. “Is he the only one?”
Willow nodded. “We were hoping you could tell us.”
Lorne waggled his finger. “No. No no no no no no,” he said, in a sing-song voice. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I can protect you. In London,” she said. She closed her eyes to slits and said, “I can hide thee from thine enemies.”
“It’s kinda crazy with a spooky little girl like you,” Lorne said.
“Turn around. See for yourself,” Willow told him.
Lorne turned, then dropped his drink. In the mirrored panel behind him, he saw his reflection – same clothes, same features – but no demon.
He grinned at himself. “I am a handsome devil even as a man.”
Lorne faced Willow again. “Look. I’m not so sure your glamour, sweet though it may be, can help. We unleashed... something.”
“Unleashed?” Willow said. “Always bad with the claws and pointy teeth imagery.”
“Claws. Fangs. Eyes on Stalks. Heh. Tentacles and poison quills. Do you have any idea, Red? Any clue at all what lurks underneath?”
Willow stared up at him. “No,” she said.
Lorne took a deep, dramatic breath. “Neither do I, but I think we’re gonna find out.”
Kennedy came up then to stand beside Willow.
“What’s this? The brute squad?” Lorne asked.
Kennedy folded her arms. “I’ve got a witch mad at me and you might get into trouble,” she said.
“Strong-willed,” Willow said, with a nod.
Kennedy struck a tough-girl pose. “You in or what? We’re almost out of time.”
Lorne craned his head to look at his human face in the mirror. “You want a story, right? In exchange for safe-keeping in the old GB?”
“That’s right,” Willow said.
“But mainly, you want the last known whereabouts of ours truly, the Brooding Avenger. Am I right?”
Willow lowered her eyes. “Giles thinks it’s important,” she said.
Lorne picked up on Willow’s reluctance. And Kennedy noted his notice-taking.
“Well, I’m in,” Lorne said, straightening his lapels. “Besides, France was starting to feel like a moldy crust of baguette. When do we fly?”
Willow looked at Kennedy. “Tomorrow morning,” she said.
Lorne linked arms with the both of them. “Say, then we have hours to kill and the City of Love at our feet. Did I ever tell you about the time I played kill-screw-marry with Cher? Now there’s a hot buttered croissant...”
~*~
Back at the Flat, the earth had stopped its quaky quaky shake. Andrew muttered comforting words to himself as he swept up the glass from the front foyer windows. Dawn sat at the dining room table with the first aid kit at her elbow. She swabbed triple antibiotic onto a cut on Xander’s forehead.
Outside, sirens blared. People were yelling. A street lamp showered sparks onto the sidewalk. A fire truck zipped by, followed by an ambulance.
Andrew peered out of the window.
“Oh God,” he said. “There’s panic on the streets of London.”
Dawn came up behind him. “It doesn’t look that bad.”
Andrew sent her a shocked look.
“Relatively,” Dawn said. Then, “Any sign of them.”
“No,” he said. “Should we try the phones again?”
“Yeah,” she said. Andrew passed the broom to her then headed to the phone stand.
“Wait! They’re here,” Dawn called. She darted out of the door to meet Buffy and William on the steps.
A few seconds later, William and Dawn returned, supporting Buffy between them.
“We tried the cell phones,” Dawn said.
Xander barreled around the corner. “Where the hell have you been? It’s 2 a.m., and hello? Earthquake.”
William and Dawn helped Buffy get to the chair that Xander had just vacated. Andrew, Xander and Dawn crowded in, all talking at once.
“We need ice,” William said.
“Internet’s down,” Andrew was saying. “The city’s ground to a halt. Panic. Mayhem.”
“Guys,” Buffy said.
“Oh, I see,” Xander said to William. “Buffy’s hurt and you walk away unscathed?”
William tore off the leg to Buffy’s blue jeans. “Ice, Harris,” he growled.
Buffy held up her hands. “Guys! What’s the damage?”
Andrew said, “Glass in the foyer. Knick knacks. Dishes. Xander’s head.”
“No damage there,” William said.
Xander glared at him, nostrils flaring and manly. “This is your doing, Spike. I don’t even know how, but it is...”
“Oh, right. Because I’ve been known to cause earthquakes,” William said, approaching a rolling boil. “Wait. No. You’re reaching.”
Buffy said, “Well, there was that time you turned Sunnydale into a gaping crater.”
William opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.
“Guys, I...” Buffy said.
Xander shouldered up to William. “Someday, Spike, we’re gonna have a disagreement.”
William gave him a shove. “Back off, Harris. Do something useful. We. Need. Ice.”
Dawn came back in from the kitchen with an ice pack and a towel. She glowered at Xander and William. Both kept a healthy temper-keeping distance.
Buffy pressed the ice pack to her leg, wincing at the pain. Bruises, scrapes and nasty paper cuts covered her body, but the bone in her knee may have actually snapped. It was on its way to healing up Slayer-style, but still, it hurt like a bitch.
“Thanks, Dawnie,” Buffy said. “Giles. Is he still in Amesbury?”
Andrew whined, “We think so. We haven’t heard. Phones down. Chaos abounds...”
“Someone stop him,” Xander said.
Buffy looked up at Xander. “We saw Angel,” she said.
She waited a moment for someone to say something, for one of them to zing a snappy one-liner or sputter off an incoherent line of questions. But they were all too stunned to say anything. So she went on. “And, we were attacked by some super-powerful demon clan just before the big shake and tumble. I’m thinking larger things are at work than just William. So let off the throttle, all right?”
Xander looked from Buffy to Spike. He saw a flicker in Spike’s eyes. He tried to hide it, too, but Xander saw the way he swallowed hard and clenched his jaw. Spike was afraid. For that flash of a moment, Xander actually felt sorry for him. So yeah, he backed off.
“Angel attacked you?” Dawn said, finally.
“No. Someone else,” William answered. “Powerful someones.”
Xander gingerly tested the area around his bandaged cut. “So, while you were out on patrol, you encountered Angel, and then a pack of powerful someones that may or may not have caused an earthquake?”
“And some Scottish raver-vamps,” William added.
Xander sat down heavily in the chair beside Buffy. “Guess the honeymoon’s over. Ain’t it, Buffy?”
They all stared in silence at the table for a moment. Xander toyed with the opened packet of triple antibiotic. Outside, sirens and car alarms continued their discordant hip-hop beat.
“I’m going upstairs. I need a bath. And then...” Buffy breathed a heavy, tired sigh. “Well, let’s just start with a bath.”
“What should we do, Buffy?” Dawn asked. “Want us to research those baddies who attacked?”
“Yeah, you can tell us what they look like and we’ll start compiling the data,” Xander said.
Buffy got shakily to her feet. “No. Without Internet there’s not much point. It can wait till morning. Maybe Giles...”
“But Buffy,” Andrew said.
She sent him a withering look.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll go huddle in a corner and chant protection spells.”
“And I’ll board up the windows,” Xander said. He stood up, shaking his head. “I was so glad to eliminate that sentence from my weekly repertoire.”
Buffy hobbled to the stairs, then leaned on William to make the rest of the way to her rooms.
~*~
After taking a challenging bath with her non-bendy knee, Buffy sat at the little table in the sitting room between her bedroom and Dawn’s.
William was pacing around the room, not talking.
“Will you stop pacing?” Buffy said. “I can’t pace. I have pacing envy.”
He stopped.
She said, “Bring me that lacquered box, on the shelf behind you.”
William went to it. When he placed his hands on the box, she said, “Don’t open it!”
He turned to face her. “What’s your game, Slayer?”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Characters: Willow, Kennedy, Lorne, Andrew, Dawn, Xander, Buffy and Spike.
I'm no big fan of Kennedy, but she continues to appear in this story.
I'm no big fan of Kennedy, but she continues to appear in this story.