Four:
"Picard is the best captain. Kirk is all reckless and stuff," Andrew
says, "he beams down with the Away team all the time."
"But Kirk is cuter," Dawn says. She rifles through the box of tapes.
"Which one has the tribbles?"
Andrew looks in the box. "'The Trouble With Tribbles.' That's a good
one." He digs through the box carefully. "Picard is plenty cute," he
says.
"Picard is all old!"
"That makes him cuter, actually," Andrew says. He can't find the tape;
they might have to do something else. He looks at Dawn. "Can I tell you
a secret?"
Dawn's mouth goes round and she scrambles in closer. "Yeah?"
Andrew whispers in her ear: "I've been going to the demon bar all
summer."
"Oh my god!" She covers her mouth and giggles. "Take me! I want to see
it!"
"No! You're human. That's a special place for evil monsters and
soulless creatures of the night," Andrew says.
"You're not evil, you big faker! Take me! Take me! Take me!" Dawn jumps
on him and pokes him in the ribs. Andrew bats her hands away, grinning.
"You can't tell me that and then not let me go! That's so unfair!"
He hears the basement door open. "Andrew!" Buffy says. "Are you there?"
He and Dawn both sit up. "Yes, as is your sister, as your mother
requested!" Andrew responds.
Buffy comes down the steps. "Dawn. Hi. Andrew, did you know Harmony was
a vampire?"
"Harmony--Cordelia's friend from high school?" Andrew thinks. "No, but
that explains a lot."
"Like what? Dawn, go upstairs."
"What? I'm not a kid! I can hear stuff!" Dawn jumps to her feet and
glares at Buffy.
"No, no hearing stuff until you're at least eighteen!" Buffy says.
"What? You were fifteen when you were called to be a Slayer. That's
only two years older than me now!"
"Okay, no hearing stuff until you're fifteen. Go!" Buffy points.
Dawn pouts and stomps upstairs. "Giles!" she yells as she goes.
Buffy points at Andrew. "Okay. What does that explain about Harmony?"
"It explains why she's been hanging out with Spike," Andrew says.
"Oh. Oh, crap," Buffy sighs. She sits on Andrew's bed and Andrew sits
beside her. "Spike. Did he see you?"
"I think so. My blood called out to his in a primal burn of kinship and
recognition."
Buffy stares at him.
"It's a vampire thing," Andrew says. "But he might not know that I'm
part of the Slayer's inner circle--I mean, that I am still."
"Do you know what he's doing?"
"I think he's gathering minions."
"Wait, so Spike is here for the long term? When were you planning on
telling me this?" Buffy jumps to her feet.
Andrew opens his mouth. "I just--I didn't think it was a big deal.
Vampires gather minions all the time, usually it's just
for--crypt-painting or something!"
"Spike is a big deal! Spike almost killed me a couple of times! I want
to know when the big guys are in town, okay?"
Andrew swallows and nods.
Buffy presses her temples. "Okay. Spike and... Harmony. Oh, that
has to be just a gross sex thing I don't even want to think about."
Andrew shrugs.
"Is there any word on what he wants the minions for?"
"No."
"I better find out," Buffy sighs. "Keep me informed if you find out
anything else. Jeez, I have homework already--I don't have time for
Spike and his crap."
"We're making popcorn!" Dawn shouts down the steps. "If you're done
being big secretive jerks you can have some!"
"I'll find more information for you, Slayer," Andrew vows.
"Yeah, if you can. Is there butter on the popcorn?" Buffy calls as she
goes back upstairs.
"Yes!"
"Devil child." Buffy closes the door behind her.
Andrew goes down to Willy's that night. All the bad guys go through
Willy's eventually. He sits in a corner booth and has blood--but not
alcohol, since he's performing a vital task for the Slayer.
He checks his watch at seven-forty-five.
He checks it again at eight-thirty.
This is so amazingly boring. Andrew stands up to leave, maybe walk
through a cemetery or something, and ends up walking right into a thin
guy who smells like power.
"Careful, my poppet," the guy says.
Andrew stares at him. "You're Ethan Rayne." He remembers from that one
horrible Halloween when he was trapped in a puppet's body by the forces
of darkness.
Rayne looks Andrew up and down and smiles. "I am. And you--you're that
enchanting little boy I met in my shop. What's your name?"
"Andrew," he says automatically. He straightens his shoulders. "I'm not
susceptible to your dark spells, Lord of Chaos."
"I'm not casting any. Won't you sit and chat?" Rayne gestures to the
table and Andrew sits down, though he's not entirely sure why.
Rayne's eyes are bright and black like the polished stones in Mr.
Giles's favorite ritual dagger. Andrew can't look away. "Give me your
hand," Rayne says, "I'll read your future."
"I know what my future is," Andrew says, but he gives Rayne his hand
anyway. Walking away doesn't seem like an option.
"Other hand."
Andrew puts his other hand, his right hand, on the table, and Rayne
cups it in his. "Look," Rayne says, and Andrew looks and sees darkness
pooling in the center of his palm.
"Please don't use my body for evil," Andrew whispers.
"Chaos isn't evil, my poppet, chaos is chaos. Look."
Andrew sees things in the darkness in his hand. He sees--himself, in a
nice suit with his hair all stylish, knocking down a dozen demons with
one wave of his hand. He sees himself beckoning the stars down to
dance. He feels power, amazing power that he could just reach out and
grab. "You're tempting me," Andrew gasps.
"I'm showing you what you could be." Rayne's eyes are black and shiny
with a little pinprick of light in the center, and Andrew can't pull
away from him.
"But I know what I am. I'm--I'm Mr. Giles's apprentice. I'm good,"
Andrew whispers. "You want me to be evil and I'm not!"
"Not evil. Not evil at all. Don't be trapped in prejudice and lies.
Don't let Ripper tell you what's right and what's wrong--he's hardly
qualified, now is he? You have tremendous power, sweet boy," Rayne
says, "if you only admit it to yourself."
Which he--
He knows it's true. He knows it, and he knows that Mr. Giles doesn't
see it and would never let him use it anyway and--
"No!" Andrew rips his hand away from Rayne and stumbles out of his seat
onto the floor. Rayne glances around at the other people in the bar.
Someone helps Andrew to his feet as the bartender hops over the bar.
Tonight it's not Willy, it's a great big grumpy-looking vampire, and
Rayne only holds his hands up and goes quietly when he's pointed to the
door.
"That guy--he's a dirty old man. He tried to get me to come back to his
hotel with him the other night," says whoever picked Andrew up. Andrew
turns and looks at him.
Oh. Wow.
"Uh," Andrew says.
He isn't confused any more. He's totally gay.
"Can I get you a drink?" asks the gorgeous demon guy who picked him up.
The tall, dark, beautiful, smiling guy.
Andrew nods.
Mr. Giles is making dinner when Andrew returns. "Andrew! Where have you
been?"
Andrew sticks his hands in his pockets. "I was out, and I, um. I ran
into a friend? And I got caught by, you know, daylight, so I stayed."
Stayed in Joshua's dorm room--Joshua, his name is Joshua, and his last
name is really long and demony.
"I was worried," Mr. Giles says. He glances at Andrew but quickly turns
back to his soup.
"Sorry. I should have called."
Mr. Giles stirs the soup. Andrew leans against the refrigerator and
watches him.
He didn't see Mr. Giles very much over the summer--which is weird,
because with the school blown up and Mr. Giles not having a job, he was
home pretty much all the time. But--mostly he was in the library
upstairs, drinking and studying and sometimes doing some magic. Andrew
could smell it. It smells ozoney.
Mr. Giles glances at him again. "Do you need something?"
"No." Andrew crosses his arms in front of him, hands still stuffed in
his pockets. He's still tingly from the smooching. Joshua cut class and
they napped and made out together all day.
They didn't go all they way, though. They didn't even get to fellatio,
which Andrew has been reading about and which seems very interesting.
Joshua doesn't make him burn like Mr. Giles did, but Joshua was
really really happy when he woke up and Andrew was there in his bed.
"Are you sure everything is all right?" Mr. Giles asks. "You seem
troubled."
Andrew shakes his head. "I'm fine."
He likes Joshua.
He really likes Joshua.
So he's--fine.
"I like to think that we can be friends," Mr. Giles says.
Andrew nods.
Someone knocks on the door and then opens it. "Hey! I found out what
Spike wants!" Buffy calls.
Mr. Giles turns away. "In here--what does he want?"
"The Gem of Amara," Buffy says as she runs into the kitchen. "What's
the Gem of Amara?"
"Mythical," Mr. Giles says, and "Here in Sunnydale?" Andrew says. They
both look at each other.
"Vampires are mythical too," Andrew says, "mythical doesn't mean it
doesn't exist."
"No, vampires are supernatural. Santa Claus is mythical. It's in
Antonius, for heaven's sake, the man didn't know his right hand from
his left--"
"It's in Crislock, too!"
"Hey! What is it?" Buffy breaks in.
"It makes you invulnerable! If you're a vampire," Andrew says.
"It's like the Holy Grail for vampires. No-one knows what it does,
because it doesn't exist."
Andrew glares at Mr. Giles. "It could exist."
"But it doesn't. I suppose we should find out what Spike thinks he's
doing, though, I'm sure he's due a beating," Mr. Giles says to Buffy.
"Or a staking!" Buffy says happily.
"We'll look into it."
"I'll get my Crislock and my Hunt and my Ugra!" Andrew runs downstairs.
"And your Haworth!" Mr. Giles calls after him.
Vampire theologian. "Right!"
This is going to be fun.
That sucked. Andrew kicks at pebbles as he stalks across the campus. He
misses most of them, of course.
At least he got to try on the Gem of Amara before Oz took it to Angel.
Buffy watched him like several hawks, but didn't object. It felt
tingly. The sun made his eyes hurt.
He doesn't get what Angel did to make him so worthy, though. He might
have a soul but he said he still thinks evil thoughts and Andrew
totally doesn't.
It's so unfair.
He walks into Joshua's dorm--he noticed that he doesn't need an
invitation to get into the building, just individual rooms--and knocks
on Joshua's door and hopes.
Joshua opens the door and smiles. "I was just thinking about you,"
Joshua says.
Then Andrew smiles and Joshua tugs him inside and they kiss for long
time before they even sit down.
...and a quarter:
"So everyone is running around making tons of yummy Thanksgiving food I
can't eat," Andrew says, "and I have to hide you in my room and let you
drink all my blood and I can't hit you at all?"
"Pretty much. You can eat food, though," Angel says.
"I hate you." Andrew turns his back.
"I'm getting that," Angel says.
Andrew runs upstairs, through the kitchen where it seems like everyone
he knows--except Dawn, his favorite person after Mr. Giles, who
went out of town with her mother--is cooking stuff, and sees Buffy
tying Spike to a chair. "Spike! Are you going to torture him for
information?"
"Possibly," Buffy says.
"Can I help?" Andrew asks.
"Seconded," Xander says from the couch. "Someone get me a carving knife
and some Tylenol, please."
Andrew sniffs the air; Xander smells like he's dying. That's not good.
"What's going on?" he asks.
"We're being hunted and tormented by the spirit of a Native American
warrior our ancestors hunted and tormented two hundred years ago,"
Buffy says.
Andrew pauses and thinks about that. "I'm three-quarters Swedish," he
says, "and only one-quarter American."
"Yes, and I'm entirely English. It doesn't seem to matter," Mr. Giles
says as he mixes up stuffing.
"Give us some blood," Spike says to Andrew, "come on, for Uncle Spike,
just a nibble."
"No."
Spike bounces the chair up and down. "Yeah, well, I'm your sire and I
bleeding compel you!" He widens his eyes and stares at Andrew.
"Uh oh," Willow says, over Andrew's shoulder, "he has some kind of evil
eye thing going on. Should we trace protective runes on Andrew with
salt water?"
"Don't be silly," Mr. Giles says.
Andrew stares back. "You're not actually doing anything," he says.
"You're not my sire, anyway."
Xander peeks his head over the couch. "Hey, what is a sire?"
"Complicated question," Mr. Giles says. He smells like sage. Andrew
wonders if the turkey will be charmed.
"Drusilla is my sire," Andrew says. He rubs his neck, thinking about
her teeth.
"Maybe the blood was hers. The will was always Angel's," Spike says.
"Lovely hot blood from a nice young lass will do me a tr--" His voice
squeaks off as Buffy grabs his throat.
"I can still chuck you outside," she says.
Andrew goes into the kitchen and digs the blood out from under the bowl
of peas. The fridge is so full with Thanksgiving stuff that the peas
just stay there in midair, supported by a half-gallon of milk and a big
container of peeled potatoes.
"Are carrots supposed to look like this? I don't remember carrots
coming in disk form," Anya says as Andrew pours some blood into a glass
and puts it in the microwave.
"The miracles of modern technology," Willow tells Anya. "Oh! We should
make some special dressing for Andrew! With blood and, um,
cranberries!"
Andrew and Mr. Giles both turn and look at her. "I don't eat food,"
Andrew says.
"Oh." Willow stands there with a bag of frozen rolls in her hand.
"Well--you can eat, it's simply not nourishing," Mr. Giles says.
"Blood and bread is traditional in many demon cultures as a snack to
bring luck to the new year."
"It's not the new year, it's November." The microwave dings and Andrew
takes out the glass of blood. Willow wrinkles her nose slightly at the
smell of it.
"The coming year," Mr. Giles says.
"Okay. Maybe," Andrew says, and he takes the glass of blood in to Spike.
"About time," Spike grumbles. Andrew walks past him and sits
cross-legged on the worktable. "Here, I'm over here!"
Andrew slurps the blood noisily. He can hear Spike start breathing with
desire; Spike shifts into his demon face and bares his teeth at Andrew.
Buffy looks between them with her eyebrows raised and a growing smile
on her face.
"You vicious little nancy boy," Spike growls, "you give that here--"
"Spike! You're a guest. Don't insult your host," Buffy says. Xander
props himself up on the couch and grins.
Andrew tips the glass back and finishes every last bit. He lets a drop
slide down his chin for show. Spike groans low and loud like an animal
in pain.
Andrew hurt him. It feels great. Andrew slides off the table and
saunters back into the kitchen slowly. "Way to go!" Xander says.
"I owed him some torture," Andrew says softly.
He puts the glass in the dishwasher. Mr. Giles follows him downstairs.
Angel is sitting at Andrew's desk reading about Native American myth;
Mr. Giles gives him a glance and says, "Buffy likely won't leave until
after dinner, but you can jump out the kitchen window once the sun is
down."
"Sounds like a plan," Angel says.
"Andrew." Mr. Giles takes his shoulder. "Do remember to be merciful to
a beaten foe. It's what separates man from beast."
Andrew hangs his head and nods. Mr. Giles pats his shoulder and goes
back upstairs.
"What did you do to Spike?" Angel asks.
Andrew sits on his bed and picks up his personal grimoire. "He's really
hungry. I drank some blood in front of him. That's all."
"Psychological. Not bad for an amateur."
Those of my bloodline have no power over me, Andrew writes carefully,
left-handed. "It felt pretty good," he says.
Andrew has bread and blood for Thanksgiving dinner, because they're
trying to be nice.
"Now we go around the table and say what we're thankful for this year,"
Buffy says.
"Are you sure?" Mr. Giles asks.
"Yes!"
"Even the non-Americans?"
"You can be thankful for getting rid of us," Xander says. Spike snorts
loudly in agreement and Andrew elbows him. Spike is sitting next to
him, still tied to the chair.
"I'll go first. I'm thankful that we stopped the Mayor from eating us
all at Graduation, that my sister's school doesn't have any obvious
hauntings, and that I'm passing all my classes without cheating even
once." Buffy looks at Anya.
Anya looks puzzled for a minute. "Well, I'm not grateful that I was
trapped in this inferior human form by some process that I will get
to the bottom of one of these days. I am thankful that I have a
boyfriend to lend shape and meaning to my life." She looks at Xander.
Xander looks panicked. "I'm. Um."
"Oh, do tell," Spike says, and Andrew elbows him again, then once more,
harder, for good measure. "Ow," Spike says pointedly.
"Shush! Or I shut your mouth with a bamboo skewer." Buffy smiles at
Spike.
"Kinky," Spike says, but Buffy's smile gets kind of menacing, so he
leaves it there.
"Xander?" Buffy says.
"I'm very thankful that I found a nice girl who hasn't tried to kill me
even once," Xander says, and looks at Mr. Giles.
"I'm thankful that we have survived the night and bid fair to survive
the next," Mr. Giles says.
Willow looks worried, then sad, then worried again, then says "I'm
thankful that dinner turned out so well! And that we're all friends to
be here sharing it." Spike makes a rude noise again and gets elbowed by
Andrew and Buffy both.
Willow looks at Andrew. And Andrew--thinks for a second. This past
year... It hurts that Mr. Giles can't love him. It's good that the town
wasn't eaten by Mayor Wilkins, but Buffy already covered that. He's
really excited about meeting Joshua, but he's not ready to tell
everyone. He's glad Buffy hasn't staked him for being a vampire. He's
sorry he's not allowed to kill Angel or Spike. He's sorry he can't hunt
down Drusilla, rip off her head and drink from her fountaining neck for
making him a vampire.
"I'm thankful that you've let me stay alive," he says, "and have always
given me a chance to show that I can be a good vampire." He looks at
Spike.
Spike looks back at Andrew with a calculating curl to his lip. "Be
thankful for something, Spike," Buffy says.
"Me? My year's been shite top to bottom. Drusilla takes a walk and I
end up the centerpiece for your holiday gorge? Balls to that. I'm not
thankful for anything."
Buffy sticks a roll in his mouth. "To next year," she says, holding up
her glass.
"Next year!" everyone but Spike echoes. They clink glasses.
"Mmph!" Spike curses.
Of course the Native American warriors defending their ancestral
homelands shot out Mr. Giles's front window and blinds, so Spike had to
spend the night in the basement with Andrew. The only break Andrew got
was that Angel was gone by then.
They both woke up cranky.
"Apologize," Andrew says, standing out of Spike's reach.
"I'm not bloody apologizing!" Spike shouts, but his eyes are fixed on
the mug in Andrew's hand.
"Apologize," Andrew repeats.
"No!"
Andrew shrugs and sips at the blood. He feels his face shift as the
blood flows over his tongue. "No, don't drink it all!" Spike cries.
"I'm sorry! I'm fucking well sorry that I called you a vicious little
nancy boy. Now will you give me that before I die?"
"Apology accepted," Andrew says. He holds the mug for Spike to drink.
The last time he was this close to Spike, Spike held him in his lap
while Drusilla licked his neck and pinched his skin all over.
Mr. Giles said to be merciful, not to let Spike walk all over him.
"Though I am a homosexual," Andrew says, "'nancy boy' is an insult. I
prefer 'gay' or 'queer,' which is a former insult now being reclaimed
by those of my inclination."
Spike gulps the last of the blood and sneers at him. "What's your
position on 'fairy'?"
Andrew shows teeth. Spike snarls back. "Untie me and I'll mop the floor
with you," Spike growls.
"Not before I cut off your head with my Swiss army knife," Andrew says.
"Pillow-biting twat."
"Eunuch."
"Oh, my prick's all there," Spike says, "come unzip me and have a lick.
Have two."
Andrew grabs his hair and pulls his head back. "Hey? Spike? How many
licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop?" He
gnashes his teeth together, leaning over Spike's face.
Spike curls his lips back so far it's almost like a smile. "When I get
my teeth back you are staked, you are dust on the bloody wind, you
vicious little catamite--"
Mr. Giles clears his throat. Andrew and Spike both jump and stare at
him. Andrew didn't even hear him coming down the stairs. "Perhaps we
should bring Spike upstairs," Mr. Giles says.
Andrew lets go of Spike's hair. "Punching bag to pile of dust, bloody
marvelous," Spike complains.
"I never hit you!" Andrew protests.
"Xander has the windows boarded up. We'll fix them next week. And I can
see that you didn't hurt him, Andrew."
Andrew tips Spike's chair back and drags him across the floor to the
stairs. They're not taking any chances that this is all a big act.
"When I get better, we're going to throw down, you and me," Spike
breathes.
"That's what you said to everyone. I think Buffy has dibs." Andrew
starts pulling Spike up the stairs. He makes sure to bump him twice on
every step.
"Poof," Spike says.
"Loser. Get a new insult," Andrew answers.
...and a half:
He can't see them, but he can still hear them.
"Look at these vests! It has to be a vest, or--oh! Vintage! You're old,
you can wear old stuff!" Buffy exclaims.
"In the old days, we just wore our best gear for the occasion. What's
wrong with that tradition?"
Tuxedo catalogs. Where she found the stuff Giles will never
know--then again, he's learned by now not to underestimate her powers
of shopping.
"You're not wearing your leather coat on my special day, Spike," Buffy
says firmly.
"But--"
"No."
"Oh, I can't deny you anything, pet..." Lord, he can hear them kissing.
He jumps as Andrew licks his fingers--and that's simply too much. He
stands and announces: "I'm going up to the attic. When you come to your
senses, I'll be delighted to hear it."
"Oh, Giles..." Buffy's pout is drowned in more kisses. Giles feels his
way to the stairs and escapes as fast as he can manage. Andrew follows
on all fours.
In the attic practice space, he might as well be alone. Well, alone
with Andrew, which is as alone as he's been for the past year. Andrew
whines and butts his thigh with his forehead.
"Yes, good lad." Giles bends down to tousle his hair.
He feels around--there should be--there's a pile of stakes, and that'll
do. He tosses one across the attic and Andrew runs after it and brings
it back in his mouth. He barks until Giles throws the stake again.
Very nearly restful, this, if one ignores the fact that it's utterly
mad.
"Do vampires like cookies?" Willow asks Andrew anxiously as she mixes
dough. "Blood cookies! Or meat cookies? Or is that ew?"
"Sounds revolting, duck, but you can bring me a spoon to lick," Spike
chimes in. Andrew edges past Willow and sits next to Giles on the
couch.
"Hey! How many fingers?" Xander holds up three fingers before Giles's
eyes.
"Xander, I would rather not go blind again," Giles replies, brushing
Xander's hand away. Xander grins.
"I was really a dog?" Andrew whispers to Giles.
"It was a spell. We were none of us ourselves."
"But that means Willow thinks I'm a dog. Your dog."
"Played a mean game of fetch," Spike says, because naturally he
overheard. "Not much of a guard dog, though, a bit too much in the way
of a licky tongue and wagging bum."
"There are worse things to be," Xander says.
"You could have been a bunny." Anya shudders.
"Kissing Spike? Much ickier than playing fetch with Giles," Buffy says.
"Yeah? Well, kissing you is like kissing a--" Spike's gaze suddenly
drops to the wooden spoon in Buffy's hand. "--kissing your sister," he
finishes, slightly more subdued.
Giles hears a slight popping sound--Andrew is clutching the back of the
couch so tightly that he's pulling the attached cushion away from the
back. "Andrew, it's--"
"I just meant faithful! And loyal! And always around! Those are good
things!" Willow cries, and though she has a good heart, Giles dearly
wishes she knew when not to speak.
Andrew stands up so violently that he shoves the couch backwards
several inches. "Well the thing is that I'm not anyone's dog!" he
shouts. "I'm not Angel's, I'm not Drusilla's, and I'm not even his!"
Pointing at Giles. Color washes his pale face.
The other children stare at him in shock--Andrew's never raised his
voice to them before.
Andrew breathes in sharply and stiffens his shoulders, pulls himself
back together. "I'm going out," he says.
"Andrew--" Giles stands, but Andrew is already heading out the door.
The children look at each other. "Okay," Xander says, "what just
happened?"
"I think you're not the only one here with issues," Buffy says to
Willow. Willow responds with a small whimper.
"Ohh... Sunshine. Wormwood if he's naughty. I'd forgotten." Spike eyes
Giles with an insinuating smile.
"Spike?"
Spike looks up at him through his lashes.
"Forget again," Giles says, very softly.
Housing two vampires, even in a three-story house, is wearing.
"We're out of Weetabix," Spike says from the kitchen.
"So?" Andrew replies.
Can't even scream, can't even cry... Giles wonder if he can take
notes while plugging his ears. Perhaps if he holds the pen in his
mouth, or if he fills up his ears with butter.
"I like to crumble the Weetabix up in the blood. Gives it a little
texture."
"You're so disgusting."
"Like you know anything about good food." Spike comes out of the
kitchen with a box of water crackers and a jar of peanut butter in his
hands and bounces backwards onto the couch.
Giles does wonder why Spike eats when Andrew doesn't. Spike can't
live off it any more than Andrew does; it's purely recreational, like
the cigarettes he isn't addicted to.
"I know that blood-soaked breakfast cereal--"
"Boys! Please!" Giles cries. "While I can still bear to bring fork to
mouth."
"Squeamish," Spike says.
Andrew stares at Spike for a long, angry, moment, then sinks into the
other chair at the living room worktable. "Sorry, Mr. Giles."
"I understand how much you dislike him, and certainly I sympathize, but
I cannot allow you to administer the beating he so richly deserves,"
Giles sighs.
"Cause you're the good guys," Spike says from the couch.
"Do shut up," Giles tells him. Spike crunches crackers noisily in
reply.
Andrew's face tightens again. "You don't even have to eat! You
definitely don't have to be so gross."
Spike crosses his boots--the only part of him visible--on the arm of
the couch. "And you don't have to have sex, but that doesn't stop you
from shagging that demon." Andrew's back stiffens.
Giles raises an eyebrow. So that's where Andrew's been?
"How do you know about him?" Andrew's voice is choked with anger. "You
don't get to say anything about him."
"I followed you, nancy boy, and I'll say anything I like." Spike
elbows up and smirks at both of them.
Andrew shift into his vampire face. Giles grabs his shoulder. "Andrew!
He can't fight back."
Andrew snarls at Spike, his shoulders rocklike with tension, as Xander
and Anya walk in. "Well, I think we should talk about it now," Anya is
saying.
"Whoa! Someone let the demons out," Xander says. "Is there a scuffle?
Should I get a hose?"
Giles releases Andrew's shoulder. "Xander, I need you to take Spike for
a few days."
"What?" Spike says.
"What?" Xander says.
"What?" Anya says.
"I can control myself! I just want to hit him a couple of times,"
Andrew says.
"I'm not staying with him!" Spike leaps up from the couch, scattering
cracker crumbs over the rug.
"It's not that," Giles says to Andrew, "it's that I have a friend
coming to visit and I would rather not expose her to Spike." Her idea
to visit. Olivia is a dear friend, a close friend who has never
really seen him as relationship material, simply as--well. He hasn't
seen her in an age; the last time she visited California was the quiet
summer after Buffy defeated the Master.
"Where's your chains? If he's with me, he's getting tied up," Xander
says.
Andrew looks at Giles, then drops his demon face and smiles. "That's
great, Mr. Giles. I can stay with Joshua."
"And what about our romantic evening?" Anya complains.
"You don't have to go," Giles assures him, "but now that you mention
Joshua, I must admit I'm curious..." He would like very much to meet
this mystery boy.
"I was going to bring him around--eventually. Soon," Andrew says,
smiling wider. "He's a Lothliger demon hybrid. He's really--he's nice."
"I'm not having these two shag while I'm tied to a chair three feet
away!" Spike howls.
"Not one of my fantasies either, buddy!" Xander says.
When he smiles, Andrew still looks like the child he was when he was
turned. Innocent. Happy. "I'm delighted that you've found someone,"
Giles says. "I would be honored to meet him."
Anya tugs on Giles's sleeve, diverting his attention. "You could puts a
bag over his head and lock him in a closet," she says.
Xander points at her. "There's an idea!"
"Sod you both!"
Giles rubs his temples. "Andrew? Where is Spike's blanket?"
"I'll get it!" Andrew dashes into the kitchen and thunders down the
basement stairs.
Anya brightens and turns to Xander. "We could lock him in the closet!"
"I don't have a closet," Xander points out.
"You have a furnace! It has a door. It probably won't turn on."
Spike starts to look panicked. "Watcher! Do something!"
Giles smiles to himself.
"Girlfriend," Buffy says.
"Friend," Giles repeats.
"Giiiiirl-friend," she hums. "Admit it!"
"An old friend who's visiting LA on business. Seeing me is
an--afterthought."
"Oh, sure. She wants the hot librarian loving, Giles, and ew, bad
thought, I'll stop now." She makes a face.
"Thank you." He looks back down at his book.
"And Andrew! On the dating scene. And gay. I guess Xander was right."
"How did you know--?"
"Spike." She rolls her eyes. "He left, like, a fifteen minute message
on my answering machine, wanting me to rescue him from Xander and Anya.
Like I'm going to stow him in my dorm room? He said something about
Andrew and a demon boyfriend and chains and Anya trying to set him on
fire?"
"We talked her out of that."
"Why are we keeping him around, exactly?" Buffy asks. "Spike?"
"You seemed to like him well enough before..." he says, carefully not
smiling.
She jumps to her feet. "That was a spell! The thing with Spike and lips
was a spell! Bad Willow! Spells! And--" She points a finger. "No
teasing! You're a grownup, you're not allowed to tease!"
"Oh dear," he says. "Terribly sorry."
Buffy crosses her arms and frowns. "Any progress on the song thingy I
told you about?"
"You mean in the time I've been talking to you? I'm afraid not."
She rolls her eyes and paces the room. "So."
"Yes?"
"You date. Girls."
"Women, yes." And sometimes--well, no, he never dated men.
"Does your job ever get in the way?"
"Yes." Jenny--poor, dear Jenny, infected with Eyghon, killed by Angel.
Buffy remembers her as well, he can see it in her eyes. "What do you do
about it? How do you deal?"
"Honesty."
"Yeah." She leans against the stairs. "I was hoping you were going to
say 'magic spell'."
"Is there some reason you can't simply tell him the truth?"
Buffy gives him an incredulous look. "You, Mister Secrets, Mister
Sacred Duty?"
"Mister Threw-the-Handbook-Out-the-Window," Giles reminds her. "Your
entire graduating class in effect found out your secret without dire
effect. I have faith in your ability to choose a suitor."
"What, even after--"
"Yes."
"And--"
"Yes."
Buffy smiles like the sun breaking through the trees. It warms him.
Giles stands. "Would you like some tea?"
"Tea," she echoes, still smiling, not really listening.
"It's a drink made with leaves," he says, and she snaps out of her
reverie.
"When you put it like that, how can I say no?" She grins again.
Giles puts the kettle on and readies the tea tray for four. Olivia
won't arrive for another hour entire, but Andrew is due to return at
any moment with his boyfriend.
Giles is both pleased and terrified at that prospect. Andrew claims his
young man is a nice boy, but if he isn't? If Giles harmed him more than
he knows? If he's being abused--or if he's the abuser. Andrew's
reaction to Spike was--is--shocking. Andrew contains more violence than
Giles thought.
Demons within, Giles thinks; in this case, quite literal. He rubs the
back of his neck, watching the flame flicker under the kettle. He'll
see.
"You know, a watched pot never boils," Buffy says. Giles jumps and
bangs his head against the spice rack. "Also, I think Andrew and his
boyfriend are coming up the sidewalk. Are you okay?"
Giles rubs his head. "Yes, once the ringing in my ears dies down. Thank
you."
"Sure thing!" She follows him back into the living room as Andrew opens
the door. A young man enters the house beside him: smiling, attractive,
entirely human in appearance apart from the sunglasses he's wearing in
full dark.
"Hi," Andrew says, looking at Buffy and Giles in turn. "So--this is
Joshua. Joshua, this is Mr. Giles--I told you about him--and this is
Buffy Summers, the Slayer."
Joshua puts out his hand to Giles first. "I'm so glad to meet you. I
really, really like Andrew."
"I'm fond of him myself," Giles replies. He wishes the boy would take
his sunglasses off. His expression is quite impenetrable.
Joshua turns to Buffy. "And--wow. The Slayer. Hi." He shakes her hand
as well.
"We've never fought or anything, have we? Because you look kind of
familiar." She cocks her head and examines him.
His eyes widen. "I don't think so? I've never gotten into a fight with
anyone, ever. Maybe you're thinking of my brother? Or--do you go to UC
Sunnydale?"
"Yeah!" Buffy says.
Joshua grins and nods. "Yeah! Maybe we have a class."
She snaps her fingers and points at him. "Psych? With Walsh? I always
had the feeling there was someone demony around, but you
know--Sunnydale."
"Yeah! I kind of had the same feeling. Maybe it's her?" Joshua shuts
his mouth suddenly. "Oh--you know about the demon thing?"
Buffy waves her hand. "As long as you don't eat babies or attack my
friends? No big."
"Cool." Joshua takes off his sunglasses, revealing glowing orange eyes
without pupil or white. "I eat pizza," he says, and smiles.
The kettle whistles and Giles moves to retrieve it. "Please, have a
seat," he says.
"DO you like him?" Andrew asks, quietly and anxiously, following him to
the kitchen.
"So far." Giles rinses the teapot with boiling water, then adds the
leaves and fills it. "Carry this, please?" He hands Andrew the tray and
takes a box of biscuits from the shelf--he forgot the sweets. The sugar
intake of the children is appalling, but he can't bring himself to deny
them.
Giles brings the biscuits out on a plate. Andrew sets out the teacups
while Buffy and Joshua discuss the class--or rather, their classmates.
"That guy who always sits in the first row? The blond? Hot and
smart," Joshua says.
"Agreed," Buffy sighs. "But the black guy with, you know, the hat?"
"The Hat of Confusion."
"Totally. But despite the hat? Yum. Ooh! Cookies!"
"The TA isn't so bad either," Joshua says. "Riley. Riley with the arms."
"Buffy's kind of dating Riley," Andrew says as he sits down beside
Joshua.
"Oh!" Joshua blinks rapidly.
"Really good arms," Buffy agrees.
"I wasn't going to mack. Really!" Joshua's ears darken visibly, gold to
brown.
Buffy pats him comfortingly on the shoulder. "Gotcha. No macking."
Giles pours the tea. "I understand that you're a Lothliger hybrid,
Joshua? I'm not familiar with that term." He seats himself in the
armchair next to the couch where the three children sit.
"I'm part human and part Lothliger demon, like both my parents." Joshua
seems--quite ordinary. Thin and reasonably tall with red-black hair and
golden skin shading to an odd brick red at his lips and ears; pretty,
but not pretty in the uncanny way of an incubus. He leans into Andrew's
body subtly, neither asking him for cues nor overpowering him. He
smiles easily. He's unafraid of any of them, though understandably shy
of the Slayer.
This may be a healthy relationship.
Giles wasn't quite prepared for that.
Joshua continues: "We came from another dimension about a hundred and
fifty years ago. There was some kind of war with another kind of demon
and a bunch of my people thought it was stupid, so we came here."
"Like the Pilgrims!" Buffy says. "Did you have ships?"
"We had orbs. My grandfather still has one. It's blue. And
shiny," Joshua says.
"Cool."
"We've been intermarrying a lot since then. There aren't many
full-blood left. We're mostly pretty peaceful, so you've probably never
run into us before," he says to Buffy.
"There are a great many assimilated demon families out
there--especially in Los Angeles, for some reason," Giles says.
Joshua nods. "My grandparents on both sides and a bunch of my aunts and
uncles are up there. I went to Sunnydale for the archaeology program."
Giles clears his throat as Buffy and Andrew wince.
"I said something wrong," Joshua says.
"We don't like it when people dig things up around here," Andrew says.
"Last time, we were attacked by dead Native Americans in a totally
understandable cultural conflict that was probably our fault," Buffy
says.
"And the time before that, someone dug up the evil demon Acathla and
the world almost ended and I got turned into a vampire." Andrew's voice
is very quiet; Joshua takes his hand.
"Maybe I should change my major," Joshua says. "I don't want to end the
world."
Giles removes his glasses and cleans them automatically. "As long as
you don't dig up anything around here you should be all right--but
the earth in Sunnydale scarcely covers the evil that lies beneath."
Joshua smiles shyly and looks down at Andrew's hand. Buffy downs her
tea. "Okay. Off to patrol. See you in class, Joshua."
"Oh, yeah! Remember the quiz on Monday," he says. He and Andrew stand
when Buffy does.
"We should go too. I just need to get some clothes and blood," Andrew
says.
Giles nods. "There's a thermal bag somewhere. We can pack it with ice."
"It's a lovely day, don't you think?" Giles says. He's twitched the
curtains back for once, and the California sunshine turns everything
golden.
"Marvelous," Olivia agrees.
"Though of course it's always like this--California."
"Of course."
"I did so miss speaking."
"I dreamed I was giving a speech before the United Nations on the
strategic importance of cheddar," Olivia says. "It was lovely--I didn't
want to wake up."
Giles leans back and looks into the living room. "The boys, of course,
are of a different mind on the subject." Andrew's fingers flex in
Joshua's hair as their mouths work together. They've been kissing for
nearly an hour entire.
"Kids," Olivia says, and smiles.
"If you had the chance, would you be seventeen again?"
"Lord, no. All those hormones? Bad enough the first time."
He should know by now not to ask questions he's not certain how to
answer. When he was seventeen... he was studying under the Watcher
eye, sneaking cigarettes and learning to swear on the sly, becoming
fully aware of his family legacy and all that it entailed. When he was
nineteen, Joshua's age, he was at Oxford, learning about rock and roll
and all the new and exciting forms of pharmaceutical recreation. He
didn't meet Ethan until he was twenty-one.
If he had the chance to do it over, would he reject that path?
Several people would still be alive. Several more would be dead.
"You stopped talking," Olivia says, "I thought we weren't going to do
that."
"I'm sorry, I was only thinking..."
If he'd never embraced his own darkness, if his own soul weren't
muddied and dim, could he show Buffy how to shine? Or would he be like
Wesley, drowning in propriety, too strangled by the Handbook and the
Council to do anything more than bury her body after the first fight?
"We're all the sum of our experiences," Giles says.
The front door bangs open. Giles leaps up from his chair; Andrew leaps
up from the couch and looks to Giles. His lips are red from kissing.
Spike runs past the boys, covered by a smoking blanket. "Sweet
buggering hell it's bright!" he bellows. He bulls his way into the
kitchen and falls backwards, crying out at the light from the window.
"It's three o'clock in the afternoon. What did you expect, exactly?"
Giles asks, but Spike doesn't notice, since Andrew is snarling at the
top of his lungs.
"Cork it, Snappy," Spike says as he gets to his feet. As soon as he
stands, Andrew punches him.
"Boys! Stop that!" Giles commands them. Both vampires show their demon
faces and snarl at each other; Spike clenches his fists. Andrew hits
Spike once more before Spike loses his temper and hits back.
Andrew staggers backwards, blood on his mouth. Spike presses his hand
to his forehead--but straightens up. "Nothing," Spike says.
Spike whirls and hits Giles and shouts with pain. Giles retreats into
the kitchen holding his nose--the vampire has a punch like the kick of
a horse. Blood trickles down his wrist.
"My God, your nose!" Olivia cries. "I'll call the police. Who is that
man?"
Giles shakes his head. "He's a vampire, there's nothing the police can
do." There's one or two things he can do, however.
"Can't hit the Watcher, can hit the puppy," Spike mutters. "Oh, I
can fight all right--I can fight demons! Come here, you little sod!
Big Bad is back!"
Spike leaps at Andrew and throws him back against the wall. Andrew
fight back hard, but even his training with the Slayer leaves him no
match for the older, stronger vampire; Spike grabs his neck and punches
him so hard Andrew's head dents the plaster.
"Holy water," Giles says, pinching his nose and fumbling at the kitchen
cabinets. He's sure he has some, he did a resupply only last month...
Joshua hits Spike with a decorative war club from the wall. Spike
throws Andrew at him and both boys tumble against the couch.
Giles can't find the damned Holy Water. Olivia snatches a carving knife
from the block and hovers in the doorway. She's terrified; she didn't
come down for this.
Spike drops down on Andrew's back and twists his arm up behind him.
"Not so cocky now, are you, pup? Say Uncle! No--say arf."
Andrew seethes underneath him and Giles has had quite enough of this.
He takes the other carving knife from the block. He's never had
occasion to cut a man's head off, but he knows the technique.
Spike looks in the opposite direction as the front door opens again.
"Hey, Giles--HEY!" Buffy says, and charges into the living room,
kicking Spike square in the back. Spike rolls, rounds on her and falls
to his knees shouting in pain.
"What's the deal? Is the chip out?" Buffy asks him.
"Apparently it doesn't work on demons." Giles looks down at the knife
and hides it behind his back.
"He's an evil little git and I earned a little punching!" Spike
protests. "He bloody well tortured me when he had me tied up!"
Giles sets the knife on the couch table and kneels next to Andrew and
Joshua. "He did no such thing," Giles says, checking each boy for
serious injury. They both are battered but conscious; they sit up
awkwardly.
"That's what I figured," Buffy says. She grabs Spike and hauls him to
the door--past her boyfriend, Riley, who's seen the entire thing, good
Lord.
Buffy stops just past the threshold, where the shadow of the house
still protects Spike. "Who's the boss here?" she asks him.
"What?"
"Who's the boss? Who's got your nuts in her hand? I want to hear you
say it."
"You're crazy, Slayer--" Spike writhes in her grasp, but she has him in
an iron grip.
"That's right. Slayer. Slayer is the boss. And this is your one
warning, which you only get because you've been such a helpful little
bloodsucker. But now? That debt is canceled. Mess with my friends again
and you'll be tasting dust. From the inside." She shoves him away,
tosses his blanket outside and locks the door.
"Ow," Joshua says. He leans against Andrew and Andrew kisses his cheek.
Riley points at the door. "That was Hostile 17."
"Yeah?"
"So, I need my phone." Riley pats down his pockets.
Giles clears his throat. Riley freezes and really looks at him for the
first time. "I see there's some explaining to be done," Giles says.
"That's kind of why we're here. I need you to explain Slayering to
Riley. And Riley needs to tell us everything about the Initiative,"
Buffy says. Riley looks distressed.
"I could have taken him," Andrew growls softly.
"Absolutely, baby." Joshua kisses Andrew on the forehead.
"And he is a demon," Riley says, looking at Joshua.
"Good eye." Buffy takes his arm. "No killing your own students."
"Joshua? With the sunglasses and the last name? I had no idea," Riley
says.
"This is Sunnydale. Demons a-go-go. If they were all like Joshua my job
would be way easier." She and Riley sit at the worktable; Andrew and
Joshua curl up again on the couch.
Giles lets his breath out. "Tea all around."
Olivia is still standing in the doorway with a knife. "I'll have a
beer," she says, looking stunned.
...and three quarters:
Andrew wakes up first. He's in a blank white room with a glass door.
Joshua is sprawled on the floor near him. They both have their regular
clothes on, though Andrew's gloves are gone.
It's not jail. It's the Initiative.
The white-coated scientist that strolls by a minute later just confirms
it.
Across the hall is another cell holding four forlorn-looking Bracken
demons. A family group, probably; a mom, a dad, two teenage boys. They
hold hands and watch him through the glass.
Andrew crawls toward Joshua. He's bleeding and Andrew slips his demon
face automatically--but it doesn't mean anything; he cradles Joshua in
his arms without taking a lick.
"Mm. Andrew?"
"I'm here."
"What happened?"
"I think..." His head is clearing. "We got in a fight with those big
guys who called us faggots? And I kind of growled at them? And they
were actually Initiative soldiers. So now we're in the Initiative."
"The what?" Joshua turns his face into Andrew's hand and groans.
"The guys who captured Spike. You know, when I kept complaining about
rooming with Spike? He was with us because of them."
Joshua's sunglasses are gone, so his eyes blaze out. "The ones who kill
demons? And experiment on them? They have us?"
"Yeah."
Joshua sits up and Andrew hugs him close. "I'll protect you," Andrew
says. "Anyone trying to hurt you has to go through me."
Joshua kisses him hard. "And I'll protect you."
They huddle together in the corner, watching the Bracken demons.
Andrew rests his chin on Joshua's sleeping head. They've been there for
hours; it must be morning, or nearly.
A soldier looks into the cell. Andrew looks back. The soldier gestures
to someone Andrew can't see and Andrew clutches Joshua closer. "What?"
Joshua asks sleepily.
"I don't know."
The door opens; a soldier points a gun in Andrew's face. "Stay right
there," the soldier says.
Andrew stays right there as two other soldiers drag people in and dump
them on the floor. That is--they drag vampires in. And then lock the
door on them all.
"Oh, man," Joshua whispers.
"Do you have a pencil or something?"
Joshua shakes his head. "My pockets are empty. Andrew--"
Andrew looks at him. Joshua cups his face in his hands and kisses him
intently. "Just in case we die," Joshua says, and kisses him again.
One of the vampires stirs.
"Andrew!" Joshua yelps. "I have him!"
Andrew punches the other vampire again and looks at Joshua. Joshua
is--okay, he's lying on the vampires head with his elbow in his neck.
That works.
Andrew jumps over and claws down through the vampire's rib cage with
his strong right hand. He yanks out two ribs, splattering them both
with blood and exposing the heart. He punches straight down onto the
heart and the vampire dusts around his hand.
"Dude!" says the other vampire. "Uncool!"
Andrew broke his index finger and probably the stump of his middle
finger as well. He stares at the other vampire and gives him a long,
meaningful growl.
The other vampire raises his hands. "Fine! He's your dinner,
whatever. Jeez."
"Keep your damn distance!" Andrew growls. He helps Joshua to his feet
and backs them both against the glass door.
"Freak. Hey, do you know Spike? You'd like Spike," the other vampire
says. He crouches in the opposite corner and pouts.
His fingers are definitely broken. Nothing hurts quite like a broken
bone. But he can't show weakness.
Andrew's hand is stiffening up. He's hungry--he hasn't eaten or slept
in 24 hours and he's covered in blood.
Human blood, straight from the vampire's heart.
The soldiers didn't feed any of them. There must be something going on.
The other vampire is looking cranky, but hasn't tried to attack them
again.
Then the lights go red and the door opens. Andrew jumps to his feet,
Joshua right behind him.
Everyone's door is open. The Brackens are already running, strong legs
carrying them swiftly down the hall. The vampire pushes past them; a
Fyarl howls and is answered by a hellhound.
Joshua grabs his right hand. Andrew roars in pain and excitement and
they run.
Outside it's chaos. Monsters are running all over the lab, which is
huge--like the size of a football field. "I can't see an exit!"
Joshua cries. "How do we get out?"
A Ragna beast, eyes green with hunger, whoops and leaps at them. Andrew
hits it with a chair and then they're charged by the Fyarl.
Mucus, he remembers from when Giles was a Fyarl, and silver, and there
isn't any silver around. He breaks the chair over the demon's head and
looks around for something else; Joshua hits it with a length of stair
railing and the demon snorts at them and runs in another direction.
A vampire runs at Joshua and falls into dust two strides away. Another
vampire charges through the dust cloud and grabs Andrew--then says "oh,
it's you."
It's Spike. "How do we get out?" Andrew demands.
"Fucking hell, I don't know, all the exits are locked. We want the
Slayer," Spike says, looking around. "Slayer and her merry men are--"
He breaks off and kicks a vampire in the face.
Andrew spies a pencil on a desk, grabs it and stakes the vampire.
"What are you doing here?" Spike asks.
"We got caught." Andrew looks for Joshua and sees him fending off a
werewolf with the stair railing. Andrew charges in and kicks the
werewolf in the side; it howls and bites his leg.
Fortunately for Andrew, he's dead and the werewolf venom won't affect
him. He grabs another chair and beats it down. "Come on!" Spike yells
over the sound of taser fire. "Slayer's this way!"
Andrew takes Joshua's hand and they run. Overhead, someone has a
flamethrower, and Andrew hears a dozen non-human screams; to his left,
a knot of scientists huddles under a desk, circled by a dozen demons
matted with blood. To his right a vampire is draining a soldier while a
hellhound tears his arm off and the family of Bracken demons is taking
turns punching another soldier in the stomach.
Spike leads them down a hallway. Another werewolf--maybe the same
werewolf--bounds down the hall and knocks open a door marked 314.
"Bloody hell," Spike mutters and tackles it.
The werewolf stands up and slams Spike back against the wall. Andrew
grabs its arm and jaw and rips its throat out with his teeth.
Spike shoves past him. "Thank God we were here!" he says, hanging in
the doorway. "That thing would have killed you all."
Andrew looks down. The werewolf reverted back to human form in death;
it's just some middle-aged guy lying there.
Joshua takes his left hand and tugs him into the room. Where--everyone
is there. Buffy, Riley, Willow, Xander, Mr. Giles, they all just saw
him kill that creature with his teeth. "Yes, thank you for saving us
from the situation you helped create," Mr. Giles says to Spike.
"But I did save you, you saw that, right?"
Buffy is staring at Andrew. "How did you get in here?" she asks.
Andrew looks down at himself. He's covered in blood head to toe. The
blood of the werewolf. "We were captured," Joshua says, "by the
soldiers, last night, and they dumped us in a cell with two vampires
who wanted to eat me. Andrew was very brave."
She raises her eyebrows and looks worried. Andrew feels sick--she could
change her mind, any minute she could change her mind and just stake
him, because she's the Slayer and Andrew was just-- "Are you okay? We
didn't even know," she says.
"Andrew protected me. We protected each other," Joshua says, holding
Andrew's hand tight. There's werewolf blood in Andrew's mouth. It's
gamey.
Riley touches the Slayer's arm and says, "We still got men out there."
"Well, let's go save 'em, by gum!" Spike says.
Buffy shoots Spike a disgusted look and turns to Mr. Giles, Willow and
Xander. "You guys get to the exits, get them open." Then to Riley:
"You, organize the soldiers, pull them back. I'll take point."
Mr. Giles takes Andrew's shoulder as they file through the door.
Andrew's still alive.
Buffy and Mrs. Summers are looking at the wound left when Riley dug the
chip out of his own chest. "This is deep, Riley," Buffy's mom says.
"You really did that yourself?" Buffy says.
Willow and Xander are slumped together on Mrs. Summers' couch, napping.
Joshua is fussing over Andrew's hand and Tara holds an ice pack to Mr.
Giles's eye.
"It's not--look, it's barely even bleeding," Riley says, poking at the
gash.
Andrew stands up and limps over to Riley. "Andrew?" Joshua asks,
shadowing him.
Andrew doesn't say anything; he still tastes blood in his mouth. Buffy
and Riley both give him a funny look as he plants himself in front of
Riley and leans down to sniff at his chest.
"Um," Riley says.
"You've got demon in the wound," Andrew says, "and you smell kind of
red. It might be dirty."
"Red?"
"Healthy people smell yellow. Like--marigolds." He knows how marigolds
smell because of his grandmother's garden, he realizes. He used to help
her weed when he was little. She told him what all the flowers and
weeds were called.
He isn't ever doing that again--not because he's a vampire, but because
she's dead.
He feels kind of weird.
"Vampire senses. Very useful," Buffy says. "Hospital. Now."
Riley raises his hands. "Fine."
"I'll drive you--Andrew, honey, I think you broke that finger. You
should come too," Mrs. Summers says.
Mr. Giles takes the ice pack off his eye. "I'll see to Andrew, Joyce.
You go ahead."
"Well, broken fingers--"
"No pulse," Mr. Giles reminds her. "Even the most incompetent nurse
notices that."
"Of course." She shakes her head. "Buffy, are you coming?"
"Yeah." Buffy links arms with Riley and helps him out of his chair.
Buffy is a little bruised, but basically fine, even after fighting
demons all night.
She's the Slayer. She'll bounce back until she has one real bad day,
and then she'll die, and be replaced. She's born to die.
Except maybe Buffy won't be replaced, because she already was. She's
kind of undead, like him.
Andrew feels really sick.
Buffy and Riley and her mom leave. Mr. Giles limps over and sits next
to Andrew. He got tossed into a wall and shows it. He won't ever be
replaced, not by anyone.
Mr. Giles sighs. "Always fingers, isn't it?" he remarks, giving Andrew
a little smile. His right ring finger ends without a nail. It's not
obvious, not like Andrew's, but it's just one of the hurts Mr. Giles
took from Angel.
"I pulled a guy's heart out of his chest." Tara, bent over the first
aid kit, looks up sharply. "A vampire's heart," Andrew says. "A vampire
trying to eat Joshua." So that's okay. That's okay.
Tara smiles halfway.
"Good job," Mr. Giles says. "That's not easy."
"It was totally amazing," Joshua says. He kisses Andrew's cheek.
"You're my hero."
"You keep saying that." He feels like his heart should be beating, but
it's not, it won't ever again, because he's dead.
"Sure, because it's true..." Joshua turns his face to him and kisses
Andrew between the eyes.
"Two and one," Mr. Giles says softly before pulling Andrew's index
finger straight. Andrew yowls and Joshua shushes him with kisses.
"Huh? Whuh? Danger?" Xander looks around muzzy-eyed. Willow doesn't
budge, though; she's tucked up with her hand on his shoulder and her
cheek on her hand.
"Go back to sleep, Xander," Mr. Giles says.
"You sure? My heart is pure as donuts." Xander's eyes are already
closed again as he gestures in Mr. Giles's general direction. Tara
smiles at them.
"Quite sure." Mr. Giles binds Andrew's index finger into a splint and
tapes the stump of his middle finger to the side.
Andrew looks down at his clothes, still covered in dried blood. "Mr.
Giles..." His stomach turns over. He's buzzing from the taste of living
blood.
"I'm sorry that you boys were captured, though I was glad to have you
there for the fight in the end." Mr. Giles tapes the stump of Andrew's
ring finger to his little finger.
"But the way I fought--" Living blood, werewolf blood in his mouth.
Oz is a werewolf.
"Was necessary. We all fought, Andrew."
"We could have died a whole bunch of times if you hadn't been so
brave," Joshua says. "I really need to learn to fight if I'm going to
hang around you guys."
"But I killed."
"I saw." Mr. Giles meets his eyes. "You acted quickly and quite
possibly saved our lives."
"He was--" Human. Like Oz. The Slayer is going to kill him. The Slayer
is right to kill him.
"You did nothing wrong."
"I didn't?"
"No."
Andrew shivers all over and Joshua hugs him close. "You're a good boy,"
Mr. Giles says.
"Shush!" Xander says.
"Jeez! I'm sorry for talking to my boyfriend while you're watching
old guys hit each other with sticks," Buffy says. She and Riley are
sitting at the living room worktable with Mr. Giles, whittling stakes
and sharpening axes.
"They're swords made of light, they're not sticks," Andrew says.
"I regret to inform you that you are no longer my friend," Xander says
to Buffy. "I'm sorry, but I have to put my foot down somewhere, and
that is where I'm putting it. This is Star Wars and it is not to be
mocked." Buffy rolls her eyes and Dawn giggles.
"Why are you putting your foot on her?" Anya asks. "I want all your
body parts."
"It was just an expression, honey." Xander rewinds the scene with a
vigorous punch of his thumb.
Joshua is on the couch with Xander and Anya; Andrew is leaning against
his legs. Dawn is on the floor beside Andrew hogging the popcorn.
Tara and Willow are giggling in the kitchen. They said they were making
hot chocolate, but there's no milk in the fridge. They haven't noticed
yet.
Xander restarts the scene.
"I've been waiting for you, Obi-Wan. We meet again, at last. The circle
is now complete." Andrew can't help but whisper the words along. "When
I left you, I was the learner, but now I am the master."
"Only a master of evil, Darth," Xander says along with Obi-Wan.
"Clearly there are ways and ways of talking during movies," Mr. Giles
says.
"Your powers are weak, old man!" Andrew echoes a little louder than he
needs to. He looks over Dawn's head and sees Mr. Giles not-smiling at
him in amusement.
Dawn throws popcorn at him. "Don't waste popcorn on the floor!" Anya
protests. "Give it to me!"
On-screen, alone, Obi-Wan says: "You can't win, Darth. If you strike me
down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."
Andrew smiles and rubs his cheek against Joshua's knee happily.
Xander pauses the tape and Andrew shifts up, looking at the door. "Are
you expecting anyone?" Buffy asks Giles.
"No."
"Great," Buffy sighs. "I'll get it."
"Right behind you," Riley says. He grabs a machete and limps over to
the door with Buffy. Buffy grips her stake and opens the door.
And freezes.
Andrew can't see who's there. "Buffy?" Giles asks.
"Angel," she whispers.
Angel. Andrew hoped he would never see him again. Andrew kneels up into
Joshua's lap.
"Hi. Can we come in?" Angel asks.
"Uh. We? Sure. Giles, can you invite him in?"
"I've actually been here before," Angel says, stepping over the
threshold. He looks--different than Andrew remembers. "Cordelia
and Wes are in the car. We're here on business."
"Oh. Oh," Buffy says. "Oh, man. What now?" She flops back into her
chair. Riley limps after her and lowers himself slowly into his own.
"Hello, Angel," Giles says.
"Angel," Dawn says, rolling her eyes at Andrew.
"Oh, you came inside this time," Anya said. "That's good. Lying is
complicated."
"That's not all that's complicated," Xander says, just loud enough for
Anya and Andrew's vampire ears.
Then there's a pause. Angel shifts from foot to foot. Andrew stares at
him balefully, but Angel is looking at Buffy.
"Cordy had a vision," Angel says finally. "Demon attack."
"Oh," Buffy says.
Angel nods and shoves his hands in his pockets.
"On who?" Buffy asks.
"Oh. Them," Angel says, pointing to Andrew and Joshua.
Andrew slides his hand up Joshua's thigh. He doesn't like Angel
pointing at Josh--he doesn't like Angel looking at Josh. "Angel, this
is Joshua, my boyfriend," Andrew says. "Joshua, this is Angel. A couple
of years ago he kidnapped me, tortured me, and turned me into a
vampire. But it's okay, because he has a soul now."
Everyone looks at Andrew. Andrew glares at Angel. Angel looks at the
floor.
Joshua squeezes Andrew's shoulder and Andrew feels the tension drain
out of him. He sinks down against Joshua's knees with his arms crossed
over Joshua's thighs.
"So--that was a ten-second conversation that could easily have taken
place over the phone. Why exactly are you here?" Buffy asks.
Cordelia pokes her head in the door. "Shopping! The bossman got his
entire wardrobe blown up by the forces of evil. Now he needs new pants."
"I've been washing them," Angel protests.
"Nothing gets out the slime of evil. I should know. Hi!" she says, and
hugs everyone, even Andrew.
Mr. Wyndam-Pryce is behind her, stubbly and bandaged. He looks pretty
good, pretty--well, hot, in a shirt and jeans with no tie. He doesn't
hug anyone, just shakes hands with Mr. Giles.
"You!" Cordelia says. "I saw you in my vision. Hi!" She hugs Joshua and
Joshua hugs back.
"Hi," Joshua says, sounding kind of confused.
Cordelia spreads her hands. "I have no idea who you are and yet I want
to keep you from dying! I love this job!"
"He's my boyfriend," Andrew says.
"Oh! So Xander was right the whole time?"
"Cordy!" Xander yelps.
"What?" Cordelia beams and turns to Buffy and Dawn, who have the ad
section of the morning's paper between them.
"Angel!" Willow emerges from the kitchen and flings her arms around
Angel's neck. "Hi! Have you met Tara? This is Tara! She's my... Tara!"
Angel blinks at Tara. "Hi."
Andrew takes Joshua's hand and slides past Cordelia toward Mr.
Wyndam-Pryce and Mr. Giles.
"...and is ATC still there? Because oh my GOD have I missed that. And
Sugarplum! But for Angel--he's so completely Maximilian," Cordelia
exclaims to Buffy, who is nodding in understanding.
"Dear lord, I hope she doesn't expect me to join her," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce
murmurs to Mr. Giles.
"Buck up. Stiff upper lip," Mr. Giles says.
"Sore lower back. I'm afraid I was caught in that wardrobe-decimating
explosion." Mr. Wyndam-Pryce sees Andrew. "Andrew. Yes. And your friend
is Joshua?"
"Joshua Kariakanitenitaus." Joshua shakes hands with Mr. Wyndam-Pryce.
Mr. Wyndam-Pryce cocks his head. "Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude,
but are you by any chance part demon?"
Joshua isn't wearing his sunglasses, so his eyes are blazing out,
reflecting like the sunset off Mr. Wyndam-Pryce's glasses. "I'm a
Lothliger hybrid," Joshua says.
"Of course. I thought the last name sounded familiar. I suppose it's
easy enough to hide--"
Joshua nods. "Sunglasses. My sister wears contacts. And most people
just don't notice the tongue."
"Is your last name anglicized at all?" Mr. Wyndam-Pryce asks.
"No, just transliterated. The vowels aren't quite right in English--it
drives my sister nuts. She's all into our heritage and stuff. She says
we should use umlauts and maybe an apostrophe, but you know, it's hard
enough to spell as it is." Joshua grins.
"Quite," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce sighs.
"Carmela's!" Dawn cries.
"Carmela's!" Cordelia shrieks.
"Carmela's!" Buffy shouts.
"CARMELA'S!" Anya screams.
Buffy and Cordelia seize Angel's arms. "Carmela's!" all four women
chorus in unison. Angel looks terrified. It brings a smile to Andrew's
face.
"Ooh, I want to come!" says Willow.
Joshua is sprawled in his lap, fast asleep. His fingers curl and uncurl
as Andrew pets his cheek. In the kitchen, Buffy and Riley are having a
tense, whispered conversation:
Riley: So, Angel.
Buffy: Don't.
Riley: I just want to know what kind of man he is.
Buffy: He has a good soul.
Riley: Which doesn't always stay put.
And Mr. Giles and Xander stand in the stair landing, having a
conversation of their own:
Xander: Have you noticed that Andrew is different lately?
Mr. Giles: Different how?
Xander: Different like an anger management PSA. You heard what he said
about Angel.
Mr. Giles: He has a rather dry sense of humor, Xander. It's all the BBC
America.
Xander: You weren't looking at his face.
Andrew isn't meant to hear either of these conversations. He strokes
Joshua's hair and listens.
Buffy: You have no idea how close you are to me punching you in the
face.
Riley: Okay.
Buffy: Don't.
Riley: Can we talk about Spike?
Buffy: What about him?
Mr. Giles: What did you see?
Xander: The face of a guy who really hates Angel. It's a popular face.
A lot of people wear it.
Mr. Giles: Andrew won't act on his feelings.
Xander: How do you know?
Mr. Giles: Because he never has.
Riley: That he's still dangerous even if he can't hurt people directly.
Buffy: Strangely, I'm more concerned with the things that are hurting
people directly.
Riley: It would take five minutes to stake him.
Buffy: Now that he's helpless to defend himself? Sure. Then we can go
drink beer and feel really macho.
Riley: It's not about macho! It's about you and your friends and not
getting killed!
Xander: I'm sure there's some fancy Latin for this, but in plain
English: what he's done in the past? Not a guarantee for what he'll do
in the future.
Mr. Giles: I know what he wants, and I know that it's hanging before
him like an apple on the branch. I've never found him in my bed with
his fangs in my neck.
Xander: Or just in your bed?
Mr. Giles: I'm sure I don't know what you mean.
Xander: That he's been president of the Let's All Be Giles Club since
he was fourteen? And now, hey! Gay.
Buffy: I don't kill the helpless.
Riley: This isn't a big game hunt.
Buffy: No, it's the battle between good and evil. And what makes good
different from evil is that we have rules.
Riley: And he's evil.
Buffy: And I can't kill him.
Mr. Giles: Are you still worried that homosexuality is catching?
Xander: Hey! This conversation? Not about my issues.
Mr. Giles: ...No. I apologize.
Xander: It's about Andrew, the Golden Vampire, who for reasons I
still don't understand we never gave a soul.
Mr. Giles: With a soul he can never have happiness.
Riley: I don't... No. I do get that.
Buffy: These aren't rules I can just bend. Not and be me.
Riley: I guess that's why you're the Slayer.
Xander: Yeah, but with a soul he has a leash.
Mr. Giles: Which he doesn't need.
Xander: You're sure--I guess, yeah, you're sure. I'm taking a lot on
faith here, Giles.
Someone touches his shoulder and Andrew jerks upright. "I'm going to
bed," Mr. Giles says. "Cordelia and Wesley are staying in the spare
bedroom. Angel took Dawn home--I think they're planning on an early
start to the shopping trip, though I don't know how they intend to get
Angel in the door. Are you free for research tomorrow?"
"Free as a bird," Andrew says, and smiles.
Mr. Giles smiles down at Joshua. "You should get your young man to bed."
"I'm just going to get some dinner first," Andrew says, looking at the
kitchen.
Mr. Giles nods. "Goodnight."
Andrew slips out from under Joshua as Mr. Giles heads upstairs. In the
kitchen, Riley is kissing Buffy passionately against the table. Andrew
slips past them for a glass and some blood.
Buffy squeaks when the microwave starts. "Hi!"
"Hey! You two want a ride home?" Xander bounds into the kitchen
twirling a key ring around his finger. "The G-man lent me his wheels.
What do you think, A-man, does J-man want a ride home too? By way of,
say, Las Vegas?"
The microwave beeps and Andrew retrieves his blood. "Josh is staying
here tonight."
The other three stand and watch him drink. Buffy and Xander jerk away
and look at each other. "You can take us home. By way of home. As in,
my home," Buffy says, swinging Riley's hand.
"I've gotta ask," Riley says.
"Riley!" Buffy whispers.
"What does that taste like?" Staring at Andrew's blood.
Andrew licks his lips. "Well--this is pig, so it tastes kind of like
pork. But mostly like blood."
"Huh," Riley says. "And that's good?"
"They all do it, it must be fun," Buffy says.
The blood hits his stomach and he slips into his demon face. "You know
how it feels after you've had a really good meal? When you're full and
kind of happy? That's what the blood is like going down. It makes you
happy."
"Yay blood," says Buffy.
"Goodnight," says Andrew.
Riley still stares at his glass as Buffy pulls him out of the kitchen.
Andrew puts his empty glass in the sink and goes to carry his boyfriend
to bed.
Footsteps wake Andrew up: light, quick steps and slower, limping steps,
both unfamiliar. Probably Cordelia and Mr. Wyndam-Pryce.
The lighter steps leave, banging the front door. The limping steps
remain and put the kettle on. Mr. Giles still isn't up. The spell he
worked for the Slayer left him drained.
When the kettle whistles, it wakes Joshua up. He looks at Andrew and
smiles.
Andrew kisses him. "Just a minute," Joshua murmurs, "I have to go pee."
He slips out of bed and hurries upstairs in his t-shirt and
boxer-briefs.
There's a brief shaft of indirect sunlight when Joshua opens the door.
Andrew hears him greet Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. He hears Mr. Giles get up, as
well.
Mr. Giles's joints crack and he groans a few times when he gets up,
especially on days after a fight. Andrew knows Mr. Giles in great
shape for a human his age, but it's still so hard for him sometimes.
He wishes he could make him feel better. He wishes there was a way.
He hears Mr. Giles and Joshua say good morning, then Joshua runs down
the first flight of stairs and Andrew strips off his underwear and lies
on top of the covers. It makes Joshua grin when he comes back down the
basement steps.
"Okay," Joshua says, "we were in the middle of something..." He drops
his clothes on the floor and bounces onto Andrew's bed and kisses him,
all minty and clean.
Andrew pulls him down and they're both hard, of course, and he thinks
about his books on gayness and the stuff they haven't tried yet but
decides he knows what he wants to do. "Can you do me?" he murmurs in
Joshua's ear. He slides his hand over Joshua's butt and tugs on the
back of his thigh until Joshua slides his leg in between Andrew's.
"Sure, baby," Joshua says. He kisses Andrew one more time and then
kneels up so that Andrew can turn over and Joshua can lick him.
Joshua really likes to lick him. He's got a really, really long
tongue. It's probably his demon ancestry.
Andrew hugs the pillow to his face as Joshua licks the base of his
spine. Which--Spike called him a pillow-biter as a insult before he
actually ever did it, but Andrew still doesn't get why being a
pillow-biter is a bad thing. It feels great.
Joshua pushes his tongue in and Andrew shivers all over. He rubs his
cheek against the pillow and slides his knee along the sheets until
Joshua stops him with a hand on his calf. Joshua leans into him,
pushing him gently down onto the bed, and Andrew bucks and breathes in
when his dick touches the sheets.
Joshua pulls his tongue back out and kisses him. Kisses his ass. It's
like everything they do is a swear. Andrew wonders why that is.
Joshua strokes and licks him open until his whole butt is tingly and he
wants really badly to be touched all over. "Ready?" Joshua asks, and
Andrew nods.
He turns over and Joshua kisses his stomach, his nipple, his throat.
"You're so beautiful," Joshua says, and kisses his mouth.
Andrew brings his knees up, trying to wrap himself around Joshua. He
rubs his dick against Joshua's belly and Joshua gasps when Andrew
brushes his swollen pouch-slit. "Oh, man, I'm almost in season," Joshua
groans, and he takes Andrew's knees and slides his dick in.
It's not enough. "Harder," Andrew whispers.
"Mm, sweetheart." Joshua kisses his chin, pushes his knees back and
fucks him.
Fucks him so hard it almost hurts, but it's still not enough.
"Harder, harder," he groans, pushing his shoulders into the bed and his
hips into Joshua.
"I am. I'm--mm, baby, baby..." Joshua settles into a rolling rhythm
that just isn't enough.
Andrew growls and flips them both over; he plants his good hand in
Joshua's chest and fucks himself as hard as he needs. "Andrew--" Joshua
gasps.
Too much force. He's only human. Andrew takes his hand off Joshua's
chest and balances on his knees. Joshua bites his lip and pets Andrew's
thigh.
This is better. He can pump himself on Joshua's dick with his own
strength and his own speed, but it's still--
Joshua crooks one knee up and Andrew leans back and then, then it's
almost like the first time. With Mr. Giles. Only then he had his hands
behind him and Mr. Giles was holding him, showing him what to do.
"Baby? Are you okay?" Joshua asks.
Andrew rests his hands behind him, on Joshua's knee and pain shoots up
his arm.
And Joshua shoots into him and he comes onto Joshua's belly. Joshua
grins and holds open his arms as Andrew curls down on top of him. "I
love you," Joshua says softly.
Andrew doesn't answer. He closes his eyes.
Joshua kisses him.
Andrew sits on the bed toweling his hair as Joshua pulls his jeans on,
wincing as he zips it over his pouch. "Can I borrow a shirt?" Joshua
asks.
"Sure."
"You need more black shirts," Joshua says, looking through Andrew's
drawer. "You look hot in black."
"I do?"
"Smoking hot." He pulls out a dark blue t-shirt with the Dingoes Ate My
Baby logo on it. "We should go shopping."
"We can go with my grandsire," Andrew says, and the towel tears in his
hands.
"Do you want me to stay? You're all--grr today."
"There isn't anything you can do," Andrew says.
Joshua sits on his lap, knees on either side of his hips, and kisses
him. "I can give you a blow job every hour."
Andrew shakes his head.
"I would do it if it made you feel better," Joshua says, stroking his
jaw. "I'd even get under that little desk and do it while you're
working. I love you."
"You too," Andrew says. He rests his head on Joshua's shoulder.
He just feels so weird. Is it love making him feel like his stomach
is hollowed out and his heart is full of acid? He doesn't know.
He and Joshua go upstairs hand in hand, where Mr. Giles and Mr.
Wyndam-Pryce are having tea and muffins and looking over some papers.
The regular curtains are drawn, not the blackout curtains, but it's
enough that Andrew's skin isn't bubbling. "Good morning," Mr. Giles
says. "Joshua, there's more if you want some."
"When and where are we supposed to be attacked?" Andrew asks.
Mr. Wyndam-Pryce looks up. "Nighttime, in a cemetery. Cordelia said she
saw a portal form and a demon leap out and attack the two of you."
"The plan is to use you as bait. You boys take a stroll and we'll watch
and kill the demon," Mr. Giles says.
"Cordelia generally is sent visions only of the most dire attacks. We
must be on our guard--there may be more to this than appears on the
surface." Mr. Wyndam-Pryce sips his tea meaningfully.
"Are you okay with that?" Andrew asks Joshua.
"Yeah."
"Then I'll see you later?"
"Yeah." Joshua smiles and kisses him long and deep while the old guys
avert their eyes.
He walks Joshua to the door, then comes back to the kitchen and pours
himself some blood. "There is another matter," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce says.
"Wolfram and Hart, Angel's nemeses, raised some sort of creature to
destroy him. We are attempting to discover what it is, that we might
stop it. Frankly, I could use all the help I could get."
Andrew sets the timer on the microwave for a minute. "Why would I want
to do that?" he mutters under his breath.
"What was that?" Mr. Wyndam-Pryce asks.
Andrew looks over his shoulder at Mr. Giles. "I'll help if you want me
to," he says.
"Yes. Please."
He'll do it for Mr. Giles. Not for Angel. The timer dings and Andrew
sits down with his blood.
The sun is almost down. They moved to the living room around lunchtime.
Mr. Wyndam-Pryce rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands. "Well.
That's another hundred creatures knocked off the list of several
million it could be. Brilliant. I'll just go change my bandages and
cry."
Mr. Giles's mouth twitches. He gives Andrew a look as Mr. Wyndam-Pryce
limps up the stairs.
"He seems different," Andrew says. "He smiles. It's kind of freaking me
out."
"It's entirely possible he removed the Watcher flagpole from his arse,"
Mr. Giles says, and Andrew laughs.
Andrew hears a car pull up and a lot of girlish giggles. "I think
they're back."
"Dear God, I'd forgotten. They haven't been shopping all this time,
have they?" Mr. Giles twitches back the curtain and looks.
"Entirely possible, Mr. Giles," Andrew says, thinking of long winter
afternoons spent at the mall with Dawn.
Buffy opens the door and the girls escort Angel through. He's shielded
with gloves and an umbrella to keep out the sun, but he still looks
pink around the cheeks and nose. "Best shopping trip ever," Buffy says
happily.
"Andrew! I got you something," Dawn says. She gives him a little box as
the others pile up shopping bags in the living room and Angel staggers
to the easy chair.
Inside is a necklace strung with colored-chrome pride rings. Andrew
looks up at Dawn and she's grinning from ear to ear. "I said to the
clerk that I was getting them for my best friend, because, like, I'm
proud of you! And proud to be your friend." She throws her arms around
his neck.
"Thank you, Dawn," Andrew says, and he tears up as he presses his face
to her hair. It's like a movie, like if there were a Lifetime network
for gay people and he was the boy who'd been oppressed and repressed
and everything his whole life and this was his big emotional scene with
the girl who was his best friend.
"Wait. I thought I was your best friend?" Buffy says, tapping her foot.
"You're my sister! That's a whole different thing." Dawn sits sideways
on Andrew's lap and reaches behind his head to fasten the necklace.
Andrew scrubs his eyes with the back of his hand and tries to be manly.
Willow and Tara and Anya are grabbing sodas in the kitchen. Angel is
sprawled in Mr. Giles's favorite armchair with his head tipped back and
his arms dangling, looking very much like the corpse he is. "Look at
these shirts!" Cordelia exclaims, snatching clothes out of bags and
waving them at Mr. Giles. "That boy can wear anything. He's like a
big Ken doll!"
Angel's head comes up but he looks too wiped to care. "They're
certainly shirts," Mr. Giles agrees.
"My Ken dolls didn't look like Angel. They smiled," Dawn says.
"Also, blond," Buffy agrees. "Ooh! Hi, Riley!" She bounces across the
room and kisses him at the door.
"I heard there was some demon-fighting afoot," Riley says.
"Oh but honey, you're barely afoot." They sit on the stairs and Buffy
fusses over Riley's black eye. Joshua slips in after him and makes a
beeline for Andrew.
"Hey," Joshua says. He leans around Dawn and kisses Andrew behind her
head; she giggles. "Are you trading up?"
"Me and Dawn are getting married in Vegas when she turns fourteen,"
Andrew says.
The room goes silent. "What?" Buffy pops up on the stairs.
"Um, hi? Joke?" Dawn says.
"Not on the Hellmouth it's not! First it's jokes and good times and
then it's magic and lips of Spike!"
Angel twitches. "What?"
Buffy sits back down. "Nothing."
"Is there something I should know about?" Riley asks.
"No!"
"Excuse me," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce says as he edges past Buffy and Riley.
"It's getting dark, so we should think about a plan for tonight.
Rupert, you and Buffy know the town better than I..."
Mr. Giles looks amazed. He takes off his glasses and rubs them with his
handkerchief. "Yes, well. Cordelia, did you happen to recognize which
cemetery you saw in your vision?"
"I think it was the big one. You know, near the Bronze, the one all the
vampires like so much? There was a tree, a big one? And a headstone
with the name of some English writer on it. Dickens or something, one
of those. A portal formed and a big ugly demon jumped out and grabbed
Andrew's boyfriend, and that's it, that's all I saw."
"Visions. Why don't we get helpful mystic visions?" Willow asks Tara.
Cordelia looks at her. "Because Sunnydale is the size of the average
movie star's front lawn?"
"Oh. Good point," Willow says.
"Dinner first. Then slaying. I'm thinking Taco Hut," Buffy says.
"Where's Xander? We need all the non-gimpy people we can get."
"Burritos! And he just got off work. He's on his way," Willow says.
"I'm not gimpy," Riley says.
"You have the Grand Canyon in your pectoral muscle--stop being macho!"
Buffy says.
Andrew looks up at Dawn, still comfortably seated on his lap. "I'm
hungry," he says. He switches to demon-face and she laughs, then he
stands up with her in his arms and she shrieks. He sits her on his
shoulder so she's eight feet tall and heads into the kitchen.
Dawn's so light. He could carry two of her. "Wow," she giggles, "Giles
has serious dusting issues. You have, like, dust Great Danes up
there."
Andrew frowns. "I'll sweep later." He takes two glasses down from the
cupboard and pours the last of the blood. He'll have to go shopping
later, too.
He nukes the glasses for a minute and a half. "How much can you lift?"
Dawn asks. "Could you lift a car?"
"I could move it around some, I think. I've never tried."
"You can't eat a burrito," Andrew overhears Buffy saying, "you'll ruin
my image of you. Have scones."
"Beef. Burrito," Mr. Giles says firmly.
The microwave dings. He's like Pavlov's dog, now: bell means dinner. He
bends at the knee to take the glasses out, carefully balancing Dawn on
his shoulder as he walks back into the living room.
"Here," he says to Angel, offering one of the glasses.
Angel opens his eyes and stares at him like he's an alien for a second,
like he doesn't even know what Andrew is. Then he focuses on the glass
and says "Thanks."
Andrew sits back down and Dawn slides off his shoulder onto the floor.
"I want nachos," she tells Buffy.
"You're getting a taco."
"But I want nachos!"
"But you're getting a taco!"
Andrew can be forgiving, like Mr. Giles.
He feels Angel's eyes on him as they both drink their dinner.
"How long do you think we have to wait?" Joshua asks.
It didn't take very long to find the tree and the Hawthorne family
stone. "Beats me," Andrew says as the air bends beside them and a ball
of light coalesces into a demon.
Andrew yanks his stake from his belt and hisses. Joshua stares at the
demon.
"Uncle?" he says.
"Joshualishkins!" the demon cries, and he rushes forward and grabs
Joshua off his feet in a hug.
"Oh," Andrew says to himself. He wouldn't have figured--but the
resemblance is there, mostly in the glowing orange eyes. Joshua isn't
seven feet tall with huge Fyarl-like horns and claws, though.
Xander pops out from behind a crypt and fires off a bolt. "No!" Andrew
shouts, but it's too late--Xander has excellent aim. The bolt hits the
demon right in the shoulder blade.
The demon shouts and drops Joshua. "It's his uncle!" Andrew says,
waving his arms frantically.
"Oh, crap!" Xander and Buffy and Angel come out of hiding and run
over. "I'm so sorry!" Xander says.
"Piliethao ma ritha!" Joshua says to the demon; the demon answers in
the same language. "He says no harm done," Joshua tells Xander as the
demon reaches behind him and pulls the bolt out with a pop.
The demon displays the bolt with a toothy grin. There isn't even any
blood. "This is my great-uncle Tuaro. We're not all human hybrids,"
Joshua says, "But I don't have the slightest idea what he's doing
here..."
"Back to Giles's place. I guess this is the toy surprise. It's nice to
meet you!" Buffy says to Uncle Tuaro, and Joshua translates for her.
"He says likewise, Slayer, and he's here to ask for your help."
Joshua and Uncle Tuaro are still wrapped in conversation. Mr.
Wyndam-Pryce is listening intently. "Do you understand them?" Mr. Giles
asks quietly.
"Oh yes... It's a dialect of Fyavar, related to Fyarl. I would very
much like to know what Lothliger demons look like in their original
state; they seem to be quite... malleable."
Uncle Tuaro has brick-red skin, not golden, and his claws don't fit
through the handle of Mr. Giles's teacups, but Andrew recognizes
Joshua's grace in the way he holds his cup in the palm of his hand.
"So what are they saying?" Buffy asks impatiently.
"Well." Mr. Wyndam-Pryce clears his throat. "They're
discussing--children."
"Joshua's almost in season. His family is really pressuring him to get
pregnant this time," Andrew says. "He's trying to hold off until after
school."
Buffy stares at him. "You could get your boyfriend pregnant?"
"No. The girl demon has to put her fertilized eggs in the boy demon's
baby pouch. It keeps them from getting pregnant accidentally," Andrew
explains.
"Okay," Buffy says, "so how--? Never mind, I don't want to know."
"Niman," Joshua says, slashing his hands out flat. "Niman. Niman! Got
it? Paliathlu a thimalika sir Slayer?"
"He's getting to the point," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce translates.
Joshua and his uncle have another long conversation. "I'm sorry, I
can't quite--I think they're using a number of proper names," Mr.
Wyndam-Pryce says. "I can't follow."
Joshua finally looks over. "So, here's the deal," he says, letting his
breath out. "My grandfather--my mother's father, not Uncle Tuaro's
brother--has one of the original Orbs of Passage that our people used
to cross dimensions. About a day and a half ago, something went wrong.
Uncle thinks it might be a hostile spell from some vampires that tried
to move in on our turf."
"Turf?" Angel asks. "Where is your turf?"
"About an hour down the highway toward L.A. It's just a mushroom farm
and a gas station, I don't know what anyone would want there.
Anyway--something happened to the orb to activate it, I guess. It's
expanding. My grandfather and a bunch of my cousins are trapped
inside." Joshua's mouth twists a little when he says the last; he bites
his lip.
"Nimeska Los Angeles," Uncle Tuaro says.
"It's expanding really fast. If it keep going, it could reach L.A.,"
Joshua says.
"How much do you know about the orb?" Mr. Giles asks.
Joshua shakes his head. "Nothing, and neither does Uncle. It's blue and
shiny and about the size of a pool ball. Grandfather has an instruction
manual at his house, though."
Mr. Giles looks at Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. "We need to get there as quickly
as possible. Can your uncle create a portal for us?"
Joshua asks. "Ziesa!" says Uncle Tuaro, displaying two carved bones.
"Uncle says he can transport two people or things back. He says a car
counts as one thing, the spirit of the bone isn't picky."
Buffy nods. "Angel, your car and Riley's van. We need everyone with
mojo. Willow, Tara, Giles, Wesley, Josh and his uncle, I guess
Cordelia--will everyone fit?"
"Sure."
Buffy, Willow, Tara, Joshua, Uncle Tuaro, Andrew and all the useful
magical stuff they could fit pile into Riley's van. Angel, Mr.
Wyndam-Pryce, Cordelia, Mr. Giles and the shopping go in Angel's
car--Cordelia insists that leaving the shopping behind is bad luck. It
implies fatalism.
Uncle Tuaro chants a little and the bone dissolves into light and
blanks out the world around them. The world re-forms in a different
place.
"That's really cool," Willow gushes. Uncle Tuaro grins back at her
with alarmingly large teeth.
They all pile out of the cars. The problem is obvious: a thin blue haze
hanging in the air, creeping steadily outwards. A number of orange-eyed
demon people are hovering around the outskirts with large books.
"Tuaro!" one woman yells. "Palithi e kira!"
"She said that's the book," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce says, and hurries over.
"Oh God, do you know how to read this?" the woman asks. "Tuaro, e
thira? Joshualishkins!" She jumps up and hugs Joshua.
"Saralishkins," Joshua sighs, "guys, this is my sister Sarah."
"Mom's inside." Sarah kisses the top of Joshua's head and stares into
the haze.
"I'm the Slayer. This is my posse. We'll sort it out," Buffy says.
Mr. Wyndam-Pryce leafs through the book. "It is an instructional
manual," he says, "Rupert, look. Do you know how to ready a Fyavar
ritual of closing?"
"Yes, if you know the words."
"I do. It takes three--Willow, Tara, will you lend me your strength?"
"We will," Tara says, and they step forward and each take one of his
hands.
"Andrew." Mr. Giles beckons and he and Andrew move to the chest of
supplies. "We need oil and sacred smoke. Light the sage."
Andrew nods; he takes the bundles of sage and the matches. Buffy
appears at his elbow with Angel beside her and he lights a bundle for
each of them. "Walk in circles widdershins--counter-clockwise," Mr.
Giles says. Mr. Wyndam-Pryce is already chanting as the blue haze
creeps toward them.
Buffy, Angel and Andrew circle Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, Willow and Tara as Mr.
Giles anoints their foreheads with the oil. Andrew feels a wind blow up
hard and the earth shake a little under their feet.
Mr. Wyndam-Pryce shouts the last word and the blue haze stops, then
retreats quickly, leaving people unconscious but whole in its wake.
"It's safe, you can go," Mr. Giles says, and Sarah, Joshua, Buffy and
Angel run down the street checking pulses.
"I could feel it unraveling," Willow says.
Tara looks down the street. "There's evil at work here--do you feel it?"
Willow nods. "Definitely."
They follow the others to the house that seems to be the core of the
problem. Inside, Sarah and Joshua are leaning over an old man who
shares their golden skin and orange eyes, though his hair is white. "My
goodness," he says, "my goodness, wasn't that something."
"I should have listened to Tuaro earlier. Thank you, Slayer, thank all
of you," Sarah says.
Tara holds her hand out. "There was evil here," she says. "We banished
it, but it will return."
"The vampires from L.A. They came down here, they tried to push us
around--I guess they thought since we're demons, we're easy targets.
But how did they do this?" Sarah asks.
"How long have you lived in this spot? How old are these houses?" Mr.
Wyndam-Pryce asks.
"About a hundred and fifty years, ever since we came to this dimension."
"When I was in London," Mr. Giles says, "I saw a warlock cast a spell
of release on a house he wanted to empty, on the theory that any house
older than a hundred years has some sort of dreadful memory attached to
it. It worked; he awoke a ghost that chased the family out. It's
entirely possible that the vampires cast such a spell on your homes and
released the orb unintentionally."
"Bastards," Sarah mutters.
"My girl! Wash out your mouth," her grandfather says.
"We'll take it from here," Angel says.
Buffy stares at him. Angel stares back. "It's my city," he says, "my
problem. And I think I can handle some vampires."
Buffy crosses her arms and sets her shoulders. "Yeah, and--and if I
hadn't just saved the world the other day, I might fight you on that,
but right now, I want to sleep for a week. So--I'll see you. Later."
She turns and heads out of the house.
Mr. Giles takes a card from his wallet and gives it to Sarah. "If you
need any further assistance, feel free to call us. We have no quarrel
with those who choose to live peacefully among us."
"Sarah," Joshua says, taking Andrew's hand, "this is my boyfriend. I
told you about him."
"Oh! The vampire. But a good vampire, not the kind that kicks people
out of their own homes."
"Right," Andrew says.
"You need to come up some time when it's not crazy. And we, we need to
talk about children, little brother," she says to Joshua.
"We will. Soon!" Joshua pulls Andrew out of the house with a hand on
his belly.
"You're not--"
"It makes my pouch hurt just thinking about it," Joshua says. "No way.
Niman."
"Joshualishkins!" Uncle Tuaro catches up and swings Joshua into a bear
hug. "Himalina, lishkins."
"Himalina!" Joshua squeezes him back.
The others--minus Angel, Cordelia and Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, who are
staying--are waiting in Riley's van. "I guess we get back the
old-fashioned way," Buffy says.
"Unless you can contrive to do a very great favor for a sylvan entity
in the next few minutes, yes," Mr. Giles says. He's behind the wheel.
"So that's how you do that poof thing?" Willow asks.
Andrew pulls the side door shut. "I like your hometown," he tells
Joshua, and Joshua kisses him.
"There was the other time where Uncle Tuaro fought the Beast of Las
Vegas," Joshua says.
"Good Lord. That was him?" Mr. Giles says.
"Yeah. Do you think it's living so close to the Hellmouth that makes
this stuff happen, or do we live so close to the Hellmouth because we
can deal with the stuff that comes up?" Joshua asks.
"Well, both, I think," Willow says. "You could always move away."
"Destiny," Andrew says, looking out the window.
"Power attracts power," Tara says. "It's a cycle."
This is the first time Andrew has left Sunnydale since he was turned.
It's hard to do things as a vampire--travel is just one of the
drawbacks, and there's hardly any upsides: just strength and
senses and the good feelings he gets from blood.
Being a vampire sucks.
"How many more apocalypses before next semester, do you think?" Willow
asks Buffy.
"Think happy thoughts."
At least he has Joshua, who makes him feel better. Andrew rests his
head on Joshua's shoulder.
"I wonder if I can change my major to magic," Joshua says, "because
that totally rocked."
To the next part.
All comments are welcome.
bas@yosa.com
www.ravenswing.com/~bas/slash
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