“Hi!” Buffy smiled widely as the heavy door swung open. “Francesco, isn’t it? Or is it Giovanni? Lorenzo? Sorry, all you big old demons types look pretty much alike to me!” She breezed past the bemused-looking creature into The Immortal’s entrance hall. “So, is the man himself home?”
“You have an appointment?” The demon guard frowned at Buffy and went to close the door. There was a squeak from Willow who was hovering on the doorstep.
“Will! Come on in!” Buffy took her friend’s arm and dragged her inside, then turned back to the guard. “Now, Leonardo,” Buffy laid her hand on his arm and smiled sweetly up at him, “you know little old me, don’t you? Since when did I need an appointment? Besides,“ she stood on tiptoes to whisper in the guard’s ear, “it’s a surprise!”
The guard looked down at her uncertainly. Buffy smiled sweetly and squeezed his arm. He relented. “The master has a visitor, I will tell him you are here. Please to wait.” He gestured to a sofa and left them.
“So far, so good,” Buffy whispered to Willow. “Did you manage to… you know…?”
Willow grinned. “No problem.”
A door opened and The Immortal appeared, as immaculate as ever, with the understated casual elegance that only very expensive clothes could achieve. “Buffy?” His voice was distinctly cautious.
“Morty!” Buffy rushed over to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. “How are you? I hope you don’t mind us just dropping in like this." Buffy began to steer The Immortal toward his salon, chattering happily. “I know I should have called you first, what with you being so busy and all, and I’m sorry, but we were just back in Rome, doing a little shopping – you know how it is – and I thought, hey, let’s go and call on Morty! Because you know, you never did meet Willow, did you? And I told you so much about her!” Buffy sat down on a sofa, pulling a somewhat bemused Immortal with her, and hooked her arm through his. “And of course, she’s heard so much about you, too, so I’m thinking, let’s just call in and say hello!” Buffy’s best 100-kilowatt smile was firmly in place.
The Immortal looked over at Willow. “Umm… hello!” Willow smiled awkwardly and waggled her fingers.
“And look! We’re extra lucky because Count Cagliastro is here too!” Buffy smiled winningly at the suave wizard poised elegantly on a high backed chair. He inclined his head to her gracefully. “Isn’t this nice!” Buffy settled back on the sofa. “I’m so glad there are no hard feelings, you know, about me dumping you like that.” A frown touched The Immortal’s perfect forehead and Buffy smiled blandly. “Hey! We can still be friends, right?”
“Naturally.” The Immortal gave her a courteous smile.
“There you go!” Buffy nudged him in the ribs as the guard appeared with a tray of cups. “Now, pass the coffee and let me tell you all about London.”
******
The locks of the heavy oak doors were surprisingly feeble for such a security-conscious house, and Spike had no problem picking them. He pushed the door open warily and took a cautious step over the threshold. He was in; the barring spell was broken. He grinned. Go, Red! He made his way silently along the marble-floored corridor to the guard’s room, easily identified by the sound of harsh laughter and canned music filtering out through the partly open door, and the stale smell of cigarettes and testosterone. Spike peered inside cautiously and smiled grimly. Still with the penchant for Internet porn, then. The two big demons sat sprawled in their chairs, jackets off, deeply engrossed in what a group of over-endowed and under-dressed women were doing with a cucumber and a bottle of baby oil. Behind them, banks of monitors displayed the various rooms of The Immortal’s home. A quick glance showed him Buffy and Willow apparently chatting happily to The Immortal and Count Cagliastro. He smirked – really wouldn’t want to be in either of those men’s shoes tonight. He looked back at the demons. Or, come to that…
Spike stepped into the room, grinning savagely. “Remember me?” he growled.
The demons spun around in confusion, sending coffee cups, cigarette butts and magazines flying, and stared at him in shock.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” With a snarl, Spike slipped into game face and indulged in a little bit of gleeful mayhem.
********
“What was that?” The Immortal looked toward the door with a frown.
“What was what? Didn’t hear a thing.” Buffy smiled up at him innocently. “So, watcha both been up to lately? Have you learned any new magic tricks, Count, because, you know, Willow’s a bit of a one for the magic.”
“You’re a witch?” Count Cagliastro looked at Willow searchingly.
“Aww, I dabble.” Willow gave him an innocent smile and resolutely blocked the tentative mental feeler he sent her way. “You know – little bit of Wicca... usual girl stuff; love spells, bit of basic foretelling, occasional memory spell...”
The Count began to look slightly less relaxed. “Memory spell?”
“Oh, nothing big... just making sure the boys don’t forget their girl’s birthdays, that sort of thing. I so couldn’t do much more,” she turned on the full innocent look. ”I mean, messing with people’s memories is just so dangerous!”
Cagliastro watched her through narrowed eyes. Despite the show of naivety, this one was radiating something that felt suspiciously like suppressed power. He looked over at The Immortal, tried to catch his eye in warning. At that moment the door swung open and a familiar black-leather-clad figure swaggered into the room, looking relaxed and comfortable despite a burgeoning black eye.
“Oh, look! It’s Spike.” Buffy leapt to her feet, dashed over and hooked her arm through Spike’s, giving him a noisy kiss on the cheek. “Oh!” She smiled brightly. “And he has sexy wounds.” She paused. “Ah... is that an iron bar in your pocket, or…?”
“Actually… it’s an iron bar.” He slipped the lump of metal out of his duster pocket and hefted it, grinning savagely. “Been payin’ a couple of old acquaintances a visit.”
“Ah-ha. And that stuff on it that looks like blood and brains is…?” Buffy cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Is blood and brains, yeah.”
“Ewww.” She turned back to The Immortal smiling indulgently. “Vampires, huh?” She raised a hand to her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! How rude! You know Spike, honey, don’t you? I’m sure you must have met. After all, you know everybody…”
The Immortal and Count Cagliastro were looking at Spike with expressions of mixed horror and disbelief. “You... how did you get in?” The Immortal spluttered.
Spike nodded over at Willow. “Red there did a little unblockin’ for me.” He smiled down at Buffy affectionately. “My girl here thought it was impolite not to call and say hello, given the circumstances.” Spike looked back at the two men and gave a savage grin. “You know, pet – I do believe they’ve forgotten me.”
“Forgotten you, sweetie? How could anyone do that?” Buffy turned to The Immortal. “Unless of course some evil, low-life, scumbag coward decided to play God with their memories...” Her smile was pure venom. “And who’d be such an unspeakable bastard to do something like that?”
“You...” The Immortal turned to Cagliastro with a furious frown. “You told me the spell was still in place!”
Cagliastro looked at Buffy in bewilderment. “The Ward... it is still in place...”
“Oops!” Willow raised her hand. “That’d be me again! I sort of tickled it a bit; just to get you two worried enough to stay together. Then I kind of blocked it.” She gave a mock-apologetic smile. “Sorry!”
Cagliastro’s sense of unease was deepening rapidly. The warding had hardly been an elegant device, but it would be more than sufficient to defeat any average witch or wizard. He focused more intently on Willow, trying to see beyond the veil she’d set around herself. Willow decided she wouldn’t let him; she gave him a saccharine sweet smile instead.
Unaware of the mental skirmish taking place between his magus and the witch, The Immortal had regained a little of his composure. He sat back in his seat with studied insouciance and looked over at Spike and Buffy. “So. You have discovered my little game.” He steepled his fingers and raised an eyebrow. “And now? I mean, clearly there was no harm done, after all. Surely you are not here seeking revenge?”
“Well, let me see.” Buffy pondered. “We were thinking, that... on the whole... all things considered and all… probably... yes.” She grinned. “Revenge sounds cool. Something that will hit you where it really hurts.”
The Immortal looked at Spike nervously. Spike grinned. “That was my idea, too. But much as it would give me great pleasure to beat seven shades of shit out of you, pal, the girls have other ideas.”
The Immortal turned his gaze back to Buffy.
“Well, we thought about some sort of financial settlement, but – hey, it’s only money, and you have so much of that. Or maybe a plague of boils or something, but that’s a bit biblical for the modern day revenger. So we thought...” she smiled sweetly “how about a nice little permanent impotence spell?”
Spike winced. “You know what they say about the female of the species, mate. Way deadlier than the male.”
Willow cocked her head at The Immortal thoughtfully. “Shouldn’t be too difficult...” she mused, eyeing his crotch.
The Immortal blanched. “Do something!” he shouted to Cagliastro.
Cagliastro moved to stand between The Immortal and the others. “This has gone on long enough.” His voice was deep and authoritative. “Stand down.” He glared at Willow and an aura of black power crackled around him.
Willow stood up calmly. “You know, I don’t think I will.”
Cagliastro laughed. “Then I will just have to destroy you.”
Willow smiled and shrugged. “Go for it.” She held up a hand. In her palm a soft, white light began to form, spinning slowly and silently into a sphere.
The darkness surrounding Cagliastro hissed. “So – you seek to match your puny strength to the power of the ancient Gods?” Cagliastro sneered at Willow. “You think you can fight the dark magicks with that?”
“This here pretty little thing?” Willow cocked her head and smiled. She held the small ball of light up in front of her, admiring the swirling hints of colours in its depths. “Nope. Just a connection.” She closed her hands over the light. “I got friends in high places. Way beyond dark and light magic; you know, before the division. Before the patriarchs screwed with the old ways, the true beliefs.” She shrugged. “Before... well, everything, as it happens...”
“You dare to summon Gaia?” Cagliastro looked on in horror as the light streamed from between Willow’s fingers, sending tendrils of power downwards into the earth.
Willow shrugged. “Gaia, Eurynome, Coatlicue, Dziva, Nana Buruku, Kótyangwúti... take your pick. She has lots of names. And you don’t want to summon. Oh, no. She doesn’t much like that. Nope – a little request, and we’ll see what she has to say. But one thing’s for sure. Being a woman has certain advantages.” Willow looked over at Cagliastro, eyes flashing with a myriad lights, white power flowing up from beneath her feet and fizzing around her, shot with rainbow shards where it met the air… “She really, really doesn’t like being pissed off by a puny…” Willow closed her eyes, drew the power closer to her, luxuriating in the feel of it, “...jumped-up...” the power focussed down, filling the witch’s small frame with brightness and suddenly she seemed to fill the room, growing beyond herself, magnified by magic, “...little...” she opened star-bright eyes and sneered down at the cowering wizard, “...man…” she said contemptuously, her words rich with the resonance of the Goddess. Her voice dropped to a more Willow-like tone. “Well, not that you are a man, technically speaking. You’re a demon, aren’t you? But - close enough.” Cagliastro looked on in horror as Willow extended her hand toward him. “OK,” she grinned, “give it your best shot.”
In a flurry of panic and hissing blackness, Cagliastro hurled a jolt of darkness at Willow. It disappeared into her white cloak with a squeak. “Hah!” Willow tilted her head. “Oh, come on! You can do better than that!” A tendril of white shot across the room, grasped the dark shield of his power and stripped it away, snuffing out the inky blackness as if it were nothing. There was a blinding flash, lightening-bright in the confines of the room, and then silence.
“Oops.” The pure, clean whiteness faded, leaving Willow, small, slim and red-headed, standing staring disappointedly at a pile of dark powder on the floor where Cagliastro had stood. “Is that it?” She turned to where Spike and Buffy were standing watching her open-mouthed. “How disappointing. They really don’t make wizards like they used to. Not even demonic ones.”
“W... whoa!” Buffy was the first to speak, blinking magic-dazzled eyes at her friend. “Will! That was...” she shook her head.
“Kinda neat, huh?” Willow grinned hugely. The last flashes of magic drained away. “You have no idea how hard you have to work to get to that level!”
Spike gave an admiring whistle. “Remind me never to piss you off.”
“You... I mean... Gaia?” Buffy was still pretty much at a loss for words. “Even I know that’s like... major mojo!”
“Not so much.” Willow smiled modestly. “Thing to remember is no-one can own that sort of power. You try and own it, it leads to badness. The Goddess is in everything – everything’s connected. The coven showed me how we can share our power, and how to draw on the sharing. And with a bit of practice... well, OK, a lot of practice... you can sort of borrow some of her.”
“That was a bit more than some!” Buffy shook her head in admiration.
“Yeah, well...” Willow grinned. “What can I say? I’m good!”
“Erm... Buffy? Hate to interrupt this whole sisterhood and girlpower thing, but...” Spike gestured across the room. “I think we’ve lost someone.”
The sofa was empty. The Immortal had disappeared.
Buffy gave a groan of despair. “Oh, no! He gets out there, with his contacts? He’ll disappear! We’ll never find him!”
Spike frowned. “I dunno. I bet I know someone who could find him,“ he said thoughtfully.
********
On the whole, Buffy thought, she preferred the over-the-top, big-with-the-kissy-kissy greeting to the gentle touch on the cheek and the shared soft smile that seemed to be happening right now. She stood in the lobby of Wolfram and Hart and watched as Ilona greeted Spike in a way that was really, really too familiar for someone who was an ex-boss, fighting down the urge to yell “Hey! Hands off my boyfriend!” Really, if it wasn’t for the fact they needed her help, she’d… she’d… do… something. Buffy frowned. Where Spike was concerned, turned out she really wasn’t equipped to cope with the whole jealousy thing.
“So.” Ilona finally dragged her eyes away from Spike and turned to Buffy with a wide smile. “Boofy! ‘Ow are you?” She took hold of Buffy’s shoulders and looked at her with her head tilted, a concerned frown creasing her forehead. “You are looking a leetle pale, I think, a leetle tired, no?”
“No. I’m fine.” Buffy tried not to grit her teeth.
“Si?” Ilona gave her a disbelieving smile. “Ah, then that is good. So maybe it is just that your skin care regimen is in need of an updating, no?” She kissed the air noisily near Buffy’s cheek and turned away dismissively. “And this… this must be Willow.” She chuckled at Willow’s look of surprise. “Ah, even if Spike had not told me of you, I would know. You are a very powerful woman. Wolfram and ‘art keep the very close eye on such power.”
Willow wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or worried. “Oh,” she managed.
“Powerful and very beautiful, no?” Ilona took Willow’s face in her hands. Willow smiled nervously and kept her eyes resolutely away from Ilona’s remarkable cleavage, not altogether sure why it was making her feel quite so apprehensive. “It is very good to meet you at last.” Ilona kissed her on each cheek and stepped back with a smile. “So, what can I do for you? You ‘ave a problem, of that I ‘ave no doubt! It is true, I think, that the great slayer, she only come to see Ilona when she ‘as the problem! Last time you lose Spike. So careless to lose so precious a thing, huh?” she purred up at him. Buffy glared at her and Ilona suppressed a smile. “So – tell Ilona your problem and then you will ‘ave no more problem! We will solve it for – in fact, we will solve many problems for you because that is our way!”
“The Immortal,” Buffy said bluntly, “we lost him.”
“Ah, si?” Ilona looked up at Spike. “So, to have lost him, you must first have found him.”
“Yeah, we had a bit of a run in.” Spike shrugged. “With him and his magical mate.”
“Cagliastro? And?” Ilona prompted
“He kind of went… ‘Pouf’;” Buffy put in, “carbonised Count.”
Ilona looked over at Willow thoughtfully. “Did he indeed?” she murmured as Willow blushed uncomfortably. “So, The Immortal no longer ‘as his accomplice.” She stood quietly for a moment, deep in thought, then shrugged. “And now you want to find ‘im. You want for me to betray one of my most important clients?” Ilona raised an eyebrow at Buffy.
“Well, if you put it like that – yes.” Buffy shrugged.
Ilona shook her head. “I am afraid I cannot ‘elp you this time. It breaks my ‘art, naturally, because, you know, I am Italian, I understand the need for revenge, no? And it pains us not to be able to ‘elp our friends, but this time…” she shrugged “it is simply impossible. Wolfram and ‘art must protect their client’s interests, you know. Speaking of which…” Ilona turned to Spike. “We must talk. The Senior Partners…” she shrugged and let the sentence hang.
“Oh, right.” Spike frowned. He guessed his sudden disappearance from his last job was hardly likely to have gone unnoticed.
“Now?” Buffy frowned.
Ilona smiled at Buffy. “Ah, you know, the business she makes slaves of us all. You need ‘ave no fear! I do not eat ‘im! You shall ‘ave ‘im back very quickly! You sit…sit!” She steered the two women to the seats by the large reception desk. “Pietro will bring you…”
“Yeah, I know, coffee fit for the angels.” Buffy growled, sitting down and folding her arms.
“See? You remember ‘ow good it is!” Ilona beamed. “I promise not to keep ‘im from you for more than a moment. No sooner will he be gone, than he will be back again.” Ilona smiled indulgently. “So sweet!” She turned away and, taking Spike’s arm, led him away toward her office.
Spike looked back at Buffy and winced. If looks could kill, Ilona would be six feet under by now. He turned away, suppressing a smirk. If he was completely honest with himself, the jealousy really felt good.
********
In her office, Ilona sat at her desk with a sigh. “So, all is well with your Boofy? She ‘as back her memories and now you are like the two love birds again.” She shrugged. “Then you ‘ave all you desire.”
“Seems like.” Spike helped himself to his customary bottle of beer and sat opposite her, sprawled in a deep leather armchair.
“And you ‘ave destroyed Count Cagliastro.” Ilona frowned in thought.
“Did you know he was a bloody demon?” Spike gave a disgusted snort. “His sort gives demonkind a bad name.” Ilona raised an eyebrow. “Right,” Spike went on, “From what Red tells me, it was down to him. Turns out he was fighting well above his weight when it came to it, tried to handle too much power and microwaved himself.” He sucked his teeth. “Not pretty. Deeply satisfying, naturally – but not pretty.”
“And still you seek revenge?”
“Yeah, well, Morty’s still out there somewhere. His mate might have got fried, but don’t see why he should get away with it scot free.” Spike frowned and took a pull from his bottle.
“’ardly that. Without Cagliastro to maintain the spell ‘then the immortality is… ‘ow did your Boofy put it so eloquently? Ah, yes…’Pouf’.”
“So how come he didn’t dust, then? Hardly seems fair,” Spike muttered.
Ilona shrugged. “The spell was merely a stasis. From now on he will simply age as a normal man.”
“Doesn’t seem much of a trial. I like the girls' idea better.”
“For one who has known immortality and permanent youth? You think to age would not be painful for him?” Ilona raised an eyebrow.
Spike stared moodily at the bottle in his hand. “Some might think it would be a relief.”
“Ah, but then, we are not all like him. You are forgetting that this is what he chose.” She looked at Spike’s bowed head a moment longer. “Revenge is a hard mistress, is she not?” He looked up at her sharply as she began to scribble something quickly on a sheet of notepaper. “We must talk," she said quietly, folding the paper and handing it to him, “alone”.
******
Some hours later, Ilona opened her apartment door to his knock. He stood on the doorstep, dishevelled by his dash across the city in response to her call, frowning blackly. “The witch...”
“I know.” She smiled slowly and reached up to cup his face in her hands. “I know.” And she pulled The Immortal’s mouth down to hers in a deep, passionate kiss.
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