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Zahn listened to Styre reiterate all that he had heard in the bar moments before. He’d already known the girl was someone other than who she pretended to be, but to discover that Aria’s contact was actually the Slayer was a surprise, although nothing that couldn’t be handled.

He surveyed the others in the cabin. The demon’s outburst had shocked the rest into silence.

“Interesting news, Styre, but it’s nothing that can’t be taken care of with a few minor alterations. Our plan remains fundamentally sound.”

Making a point of catching the eyes of every follower in turn, he nodded confidently. Each responded positively, strengthening his convictions. They would continue to follow him. But even more importantly they still believed him.

But first things first.

He turned to his right hand man leaning against the wall. “Roc, did you take care of that small problem?”

The steward straightened. “It’s done.”

“Good. Now that all the preparations are complete, we’ll do exactly as we’ve planned from the beginning.”

Styre hesitated to bring the subject up again. He had complete faith in his leader, but still… “What about the Slayer and her companions?”

Zahn laid a hand on the demon’s shoulder. “If she gets in the way, we’ll kill her. All we need is a few moments to open the portal. By the time the cavalry arrives, we’ll all be in Samshara. Just as I’ve promised all along.”

*****

“This will be so exciting. I heard they have forty Grundies signed up. They’re split into groups and using a point system, they run a timed obstacle course that becomes more difficult until only the three fastest and most agile Grundies remain. Those three compete against each other for an overall winner.”

Willow stood on the tiptoes of her borrowed white go-go boots, trying to look across the crowd. “I can’t believe how many people turned out for this. It looks like almost the entire ship is here. I guess a lot of people enjoy watching Grundy trials.”

Half listening to Willow’s babbling about odds and traps and things, Buffy scanned the pseudo hippie throng for any spot where she might have a chance of actually seeing the course. She hated being short. “I guess we should have arrived here sooner. I didn’t expect this many people either.”

She noticed the back of a familiar head across the sea of tie dyed shirts. “There’s Xander. I wonder why he didn’t mention that he had the night off? Let’s go stand with him.”

Weaving their way through the chattering crowd, Buffy heard someone call her name. Turning in the voice’s direction she saw Aria. Actually, she saw Dargo. Aria, being the same height as Buffy was lost in the sea of Haight- Ashbury wannabes.

“Hi Buffy.” Aria walked up, followed by Dargo. “Dargo saw you and we wanted to say hi.”

“Aria, I’m glad we ran into you. I’ve got something to tell you.” Buffy suddenly realized Aria and Dargo weren’t alone. An older couple stood next to her.

“Oh, I’m sorry; I didn’t know you were with anyone.”

“I’d like to introduce you to Jakob and Ro Laren. I used to be one of Jakob’s students. We ran into each other on deck earlier and decided to watch the trials together.” She turned to the teachers. “This is Buffy, a friend of mine.”

Jakob raised a hand in greeting while his wife held out her hand and smiled. She had a mass of gray corkscrew curls and bright green eyes partially hidden behind a pair of round spectacles that had slipped halfway down her long nose. “It’s nice to meet you Buffy.”

Buffy smiled in return and shook her hand. “You, too. Aria, this my friend Willow.”

Aria turned to the couple. “Would you mind waiting a moment while Dargo and I speak privately with Buffy?”

“Not at all, my dear.” Jakob shook his head and his long gray beard swung to and fro like a pendulum across his stomach.

While Buffy pulled Aria and Dargo over to a corner to fill them in on Zahn, Willow stared at the teacher. If you remove the sixties resort wear and substitute a robe he looks exactly like…

“Excuse me, but has anyone ever told you that you look just like-“

“Albus Dumbledore?” He grinned, displaying a set of even white teeth. “All the time. I teach ten year olds.”

His wife tittered. “For a long time it was Gandalf but then that Rowling woman wrote the children’s series and now it’s always Dumbledore. I told Jakob he should just shave it off but he thinks it helps him connect with his students.”

She lowered her voice in a mock whisper, which was ruined by the smirk she shot at her husband. “He really enjoys the Gandalf recognition best. He says he likes the character better, but I think he just fancies being compared to Sir Ian McKellen.”

Jakob laughed boisterously at his wife’s comment causing Willow to grin. She’d taken an immediate liking to the couple. She bet they were loved by all the students. “Have you ever seen Grundy trials before?”

Ro nodded and her spectacles slid again. “Oh my yes. Years ago we owned a Grundy named Glinda and used to enter her for fun. She never won but we loved to watch. Then she grew too elderly and we stopped going. This will be the first we’ve seen in ages.”

Before Willow could add anything to the topic, Buffy strode back up with Aria and Dargo and announced, “Aria’s going to meet us for dinner tomorrow evening. We’ll talk more then.”

Willow smiled at the couple. “It was really nice to meet you.”

Ro nodded. “You too, my dear.”

Willow was about to turn away when Jakob placed his hand on her shoulder. Lowering his voice, he spoke in her ear. “You should continue your study of the art. You have great potential.” He took her hand in his. “And if you ever need anything…”

Her mouth dropped. “How?”

“Let’s just say I’m a walking cliché.” As Jakob started to follow Dargo through the crowd his voice floated back to her. “Take my advice, Willow. Gandalf is always right you know.”

Willow could hear Ro’s gentle laughter as they disappeared into the crowd. She looked down. In her palm was a blank business card with a phone number. She pocketed the card.

****

The girls finally managed to reach Xander’s side. He had a front row spot staked out at the far end of a large oval ring marked with metal stanchions and wire. At intervals along the marked course stood various obstacles, some of which were targets surrounded by small pools of water.

One of the ship’s officers, having completed a welcoming speech, left the field to make way for a procession of the competitors.

“Hi Xander. What a great location. You must have gotten here really early.”

Xander visibly started. “Buffy, Willow. What a nice surprise to see you girls here.” Oh God, now what? Why didn’t I just stay inside the bar until all of this is over?

Willow frowned at her friend. He seemed genuinely shocked to see them. “What? Why?”

Buffy poked his shoulder good naturedly. “He’s kidding, Willow. He knows there’s absolutely no way we’d miss this. Empress would be so disappointed. Besides the winner should have a huge cheering section.”

Before Xander could formulate a noncommittal reply, Willow squealed. “Oh, there they are! See? She’s number six.”

Buffy craned her neck. Number six and her handler had entered the course at the far end. She grinned at the little demon walking sedately next to Spike. Spike was wearing faded blue jeans with torn knees and patches sewed on coupled with a tee shirt she couldn’t read.

“This is going to be so much fun. I can’t wait to watch Empress kick their asses. There’s no way she won’t win.”

A tall demon with tats all over his muscular arms, snorted. Leaning across Xander, he shook his head sadly. “You girls are looking at number six? Mark my words, that Grundy will be one of the first to fall. She’s really pathetic. You might want to cheer for number eight. He’s favored.”

Willow’s mouth dropped. “Did you hear that? He’s out of his mind. He actually thinks Empress is going to lose right away. He called her pathetic.”

Buffy leaned across Xander so she could give the stupid demon a piece of her mind when Xander hissed in her ear. “Don’t say anything about her training or background, it might give you away. Most of these Grundies aren’t used for anything more than holding someone’s wallet or wearing the latest fashionable accessory.”

Buffy straightened up. “You’re right. Willow said most of them won’t last past the first couple rounds. Only the security trained Grundies will make it to the semi-finals. So I’ll keep my lip zipped for now. But if he’s still insulting Empress at that point, all bets are off and he’s going to hear some serious gloating.”

All bets? Huh?? Oh wait, it’s just an expression. Xander swallowed, trying to erase the panic he knew had just crossed his face. “Oh look, here they come now.” Relieved, he clapped wildly.

Amazed, Buffy watched Xander’s crazed clapping. She looked over at Willow. Willow was staring, too. Catching Buffy’s look, she shrugged. “He’s certainly excited about this. But between you and me, I think Xander needs to stay away from the caffeine for awhile.”

Buffy whispered in Willow’s ear. “He doesn’t think I should say too much about Empress’ background. It might throw suspicion on me. He’s probably right.”

She whispered back. “Yeah, I think he’s right. Anyway, we’re here to have fun and cheer on Empress, not argue with some stupid demons that can’t tell one Grundy from another.”

“That’s true. Besides we’ll have plenty of opportunities to tell him ‘I told you so’.” She raised her voice as a familiar pair walked toward them. “Yay!! Empress!! Go number six!!”

Spike held Empress’ leash lightly, keeping the easy pace around the deck as they’d been instructed. Even without vampiric hearing, he couldn’t have missed the loud clapping and familiar voices as they neared the far corner of the ring. He spotted the Slayer and Red cheering wildly. They even resembled a pair of pretty cheerleaders in their vinyl go-go boots and micro minis. Spike briefly ogled Buffy’s slender legs. God bless the sixties. He’d loved those skirts back in the day. Taking another look, his mouth watered. She was just so gorgeous.

Rounding the curve, he tentatively smiled at her. She smiled brightly, giving them both thumbs up while Willow winked at him.

His step a great deal lighter, Spike walked Empress past the excited girls toward Xander. His easy smile faded when he moved abreast of his partner. Eyes wide, Xander had stopped clapping and both hands were clenched at his side. His face, paler than usual, had a smile frozen in place. Arching an eyebrow, Spike tried to read his expression.

Moving forward again, they continued past Xander and Spike swore softly. Looming over Xander on the other side was their biggest mark; a nasty half drunken Doerich bouncer named Crunch and with him were several of his friends, who’d also bet large quantities of dosh on a spoiled lazy little Grundy named Empress. To lose.

Was Harris utterly nutters? He’s got the Slayer and Red firmly planted on one side and that Doerich demon and his mates on the other. That little scenario has such potential to ignite a monumental brawl.

Empress scanned the group and her eyes widened. She snorted.

“Yeah, I saw ‘em.” Walking out of the ring to await the first heat, Spike looked down at the little demon. “Mark my words, this will not end well.”

Sitting calmly on her haunches, Empress watched her companion pace within the confined space, mumbling about plans that never gelled quite right.

This was a delicate situation. Not only could she lose her special treats that had been promised, but her personal plan could be undone as well. She’d need to be very clever. Empress looked around, sizing up her first opponents.

*****

Anya knocked on the cabin door. “Savana? It’s time to drink copious amounts of alcohol and diss men in general.”

Receiving no reply, she glanced at her watch and noted that she was precisely on time, as all humans and some demons preferred. Anya sincerely hoped that Savana fell in that category, too.

She’d had a bitch of a day, spent chasing escaped clambeaus. Hiding everywhere, the tiny creatures would skitter into the open at the most inopportune moments, frightening customers and losing sales. Anya had been forced to chase them all over the store in an attempt to round them up and return them to their boxes. Boxes that now sported tight Tupperware- like lids. Then she’d had to dangle from a tall ladder high above the floor in an effort to wedge the damn boxes back on their shelves.

Her feet hurt and she wanted one of those killer frothy drinks with a tiny pink umbrella. Upon reflection, maybe without the umbrella. She really wasn’t in the mood to look at something tiny at the moment. In fact, she’d just order scotch. A double. In a tall glass.

Shifting from aching foot to aching foot, she frowned at her new friend’s patent disregard for both her punctuality and need for strong drink. Irritated, she pounded on the door. When she still received no response from within, Anya pressed her ear against the door. Silence.

Concern now overriding her irritation, she gripped the doorknob and twisted. Locked. The door remained closed, the old lock refused to yield. Frustrated, she was trying to ascertain whether there was any light showing under the door, when she noticed a piece of paper. Shoved beneath the door, a corner stuck out. Fervently hoping Savana had left a note instructing her to meet in the bar, Anya bent down. Gently tugging she fished the sheet of paper out.

It was a request for Savana to reschedule the meeting she’d missed early this morning with the bakery department. Stuck to it was an even smaller post-it note. Someone named Jennifer had scrawled a message asking Savana to call her concerning an urgent problem with one of tonight’s activities. The time recorded on the message was hours ago.

Frowning, Anya immediately shifted into spy mode. All thoughts of drinking fled, replaced by speculations of a more clandestine nature. Savana was her source, so it was Anya’s duty to discover what had happened. Unfortunately she wasn’t sure what the best course of action should be. Would a spy force the door open, wait in hiding until someone finally showed up to open it, or report the situation to the team leader for further instructions? Xander hadn’t covered this in her training. Having seen various movies where each of those three scenarios had been utilized, she tried to decide which to use.

Since she wasn’t conveniently carrying burglar equipment like one movie spy (a plot point which Anya had thought fairly lame at the time), nor was she imbued with Slayer strength to force open a solid teak door, that first option was definitely a no go.

And even though it worked frequently in the movies, her aching feet and the lack of a good hiding place in the narrow corridor precluded surreptitiously awaiting someone (usually the villain) to come tripping along and stupidly swing open the door. That always seemed a little too convenient for real life, so she blew that one off, too.

So the last choice and her natural inclination to tell everyone everything anyway easily led her to a final decision. She would notify their team leader.

Idly wondering if their team leader had chosen a designation yet- she really, really liked Alpha One-Anya used her employee radio to call Xander. He could reach Buffy or Alpha One. Whichever. By now they’d all be together anyway, cheering madly for Empress, which Anya knew was by far the best trained Grundy on the field and definitely the next reigning champion.





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