Chapter 2: The Cheep Cheep Song
"No"
"Anya"
"No!"
"Anya, stop being so…"
Anya glared at the Watcher, and then through the glass into the store.
"I am not going in there" She narrowed her eyes. "There's evil little furry critters in there, little demons that want to nibble off my extraneous appendages, and I do not what to have no fingers. What could I do without no fingers?!"
"But…"
"I couldn't get in a cash register, for one thing!" She added, stubbornly.
Giles sighed and rubbed at his forehead. They'd been stood here for the past ten minutes, and he'd failed miserably in trying to persuade the Vengeance demon to enter the store.
"Anya, it's a pet shop, not a pit of evil demons" He said tiredly.
Anya peered through the glass, making out the shadowed shapes of cages and huts and pens.
"They look pretty evil to me" She grumbled. Giles threw his hands in the air in exasperation.
"Fine. Stay here" Giles moved towards the entrance. "I'll be five minutes, I just need to buy some bird mix"
He opened the door and entered the shop.
"Well when they eat you, don't say I didn't warn you!" Anya shouted after him. She crossed her arms and leant petulantly against the windows. "Humans! They're so crazy"
Anya looked out over the main street, a few pedestrians milling around, a couple of cars driving past. Considering it was a Tuesday morning, the centre of Sunnydale was remarkably quiet.
The Magic Box itself never really got busy, or, at least, it never used to. Now that it had become a location of an apocalyptic battle, disaster tourists were flooding in! Anya loved to collect the money off the little people, though she missed the actual shop and all the little 'scooby' meetings, but getting cash off Japanese businessmen – nothing compared to it. Plus she had her vengeance, which she was easing off on, but it was still a full-time job.
She glanced over her shoulder to see Giles at the till, and sighed. She felt so unappreciated.
A large Chinnock flew over head, making Anya jump, it's spotlights blazing, even though it was the middle of the day; the blades whirring, the engine roaring, sailing at an angle through the cloudless sky. It crossed over in a matter of seconds, the peaceful silence settling in it's midst like a drifting blanket. Anya frowned. That helicopter had been from the army – or, the secret police. It was all black and shiny, as if being a dark colour in the middle of the day would really help it not to be noticed. Not to mention how goddamn noisy it was.
"Ok?" Giles said, as he exited the shop, a bag of mixed bird food in his hand. Anya glanced at his still intact fingers, surprised, and the two started to walk into the direction of Giles' house.
"So…are you having a crisis and moving in a retirement home then?" Anya said, staring pointedly at the bird food.
Giles blinked, and then looked bemused.
"What ever gives you that idea?"
"Well, you've bought a canary. I assumed that that meant you were having a crisis, and are now going to spend the rest of your wrinkly days teaching your new bird to sing."
Giles frowned.
"I've bought a canary, Anya. That doesn't mean I'm having any kind of crisis"
"Well, you're not going to go down a large hole and see if it asphyxiates, are you?" Anya stopped. "Are you?"
"No" He said shortly. They resumed walking, in silence for a moment.
"Since when does buying a canary signify a life crisis?" He asked. "And I'm not old enough to go into a retirement home!"
Anya thought about arguing, but it was her experience that Giles never listened to what she said, well, not when it involved him at any rate. Her opinions were never appreciated. And it wasn't just Giles, it was the rest of em! Even when it came to demons they ignored her, and she knew way more than any of them about that subject.
She needed to find a role, a place where she could be an asset, a central figure. She'd thought she'd found that in retail, with the wonderful cash register, but, alas, that was now gone.
Anya didn't think being a Vengeance Demon again was quite going to fill that place of… 'capital' in her heart. It may be emotionally satisfying, and had its perks (like being Immortal) but you didn't see many demons driving around in a Ferrari with pretty stones on their fingers.
And Anya liked pretty stones.
The two approached Giles' apartment, descending the staircase, as Giles rummaged around in his pockets for the door keys.
"It's ever so nice of you to let me stay here" Anya enthused, as she did everytime she entered the building. "I mean, I did have my own apartment, but now I have no money, or very little, I can't afford it, so it's very generous of you to let me sleep on your sofa"
"Yes Anya" Giles said tiredly. He motioned with his head, "In you go".
Anya entered the building, removing her coat, whilst Giles struggled inside with the two bags of bird mix. He placed them undereneath a large guilded cage, in which sat a uncommonly large, bright yellow, canary.
The bird hopped around on it's perch, chirupping with excitement as it saw it's owner arrived.
The Canary, which had a name that it couldn't pronounce, not having human vocal cords (but he thought it was something like 'Heee – Beeearrt'), was three months old and from Belgium. He had arrived in the US on a pre-paid, dinner bed and breakfast vacation with a specialized excursion group. He'd gone round and seen all the sites (the Big Bath (the constant puddle at the end of Crawford Street) had been the highlight) and he'd been waiting patiently for his Taxi back to the docks, when suddenly he'd been swept up by a Tweed-wearing Human who smelt of tea and mouldy books, and placed in a dark box.
The Canary had been most alarmed, and indeed, his little beating heart had almost blown a fuse (he resorted to the Canary Meditiation Methods of Ai Pee in order to stop this unfortunate side-effect), until he'd been set free inside this magnificent gold-plated apartment.
And now he was as happy as Larry. (Larry was his extortionately rich cousin in Singapore).
"Cheep cheep" Said the Canary, as Giles opened the hatch to his cage and placed his hand inside. The Canary hopped onto his finger.
"There's a good Canary" He said coaxingly, withdrawing his hand.
"His name's Herbert" Anya said from behind him. "I decided that we were going to call him Herbert."
"Cheep" Said the Canary.
"Anya" Giles turned, an eyebrow raised. "This is my canary, remember. And we are not going to call my canary Herbert"
"Cheep" Said the Canary, again.
"Why not? Is the name a reference to something I don't know of? Do you and Herbert secretly laugh and giggle at me, behind my back?!"
"No Anya, we don't" Giles put a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. He held up the other hand on which sat the Canary and looked at him fondly. "I just don't think he's called Herbert"
"Fine" Anya pouted. "But when he ends up resenting you in his teenage years because you called him 'Pilchard', don't come running to me!"
"Pilchard!?" Giles said flabbergasted.
"Yes. And that's before he's eaten by a confused cat looking for fish products. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to go and change my clothing"
Giles watched the receeding figure as she went upstairs. Life certainly had become more interesting since Anya had moved in. A lot more bewildering, too.
Scratching the Canary on top of it's yellow-plumed head, Giles wondered how Willow was doing. She was still in England, working with the coven during the week for magic control, and at Tesco at weekends as a form as punishment. She wouldn't get off trying to end the world that easily.
Still he, and the others missed her. They didn't say much, they were still hurt and threatened from her actions, but, Giles thought, he knew. He saw. Afterall, he missed Willow too.
"Come on Canary" He turned. "Herbert indeed! Let's put you back in your cage" Giles carefully placed the young bird back on his perch, then topped up his feed-dish and water. "Much better"
"Cheep" Said the Canary, in agreement.
"Don't you do anything dangerous in there" Giles added sternly.
"Cheep"
"Good"
Then Giles went to make himself and Anya a cup of tea, and the Canary set about reading the newspaper at the bottom of his cage. Well, he would, as soon as he'd mastered the English language. And the art of reading.
A Canary's work was never done.
"Cheep" He said to himself…in agreement. "Cheep Cheep Cheep"