Disclaimers, et al, in Part 1 --
*****************
IN HARM'S WAY
by Yahtzee
Yahtzee63@aol.com
*****************
Part 2
"Harmony! Way to go!" Gregory said as he ran up. The other vampires were just as enthusiastic.
"That was so cool, the way you just walked up to her -- "
"The thing with the shoes -- that's classic! I can't believe she fell for that trick!"
"How come nobody thought of this before?"
Harmony wrinkled her forehead; it was a pretty obvious tactic, wasn't it? "Well, we -- vampires -- we kill by instinct. We want to use our hands and our fangs. It's hard to think about killing with things like guns. But we can make ourselves think like that if we try."
Was that what she wanted to say? Close enough, anyway. The other vampires were all looking at her admiringly. Harmony hadn't felt this good since she'd seen Queen C knocked into a dumpster.
"So, Harmony, I guess you want to be the one to kill her, right?" said one vamp, who'd joined their hunting party late.
"You dork," she said scathingly. "If we were gonna kill her, we'd have used a real gun. And if I drank her now, I'd be knocked out until Tuesday, at least. That's like 800 Tylenol PM in her system."
The vamp didn't get it. "But she's the Slayer! She's knocked out! Laid out on the street like an all-you-can-eat --- Slayer bar! You're telling me we're not gonna kill her?"
"Think, lamebrain," Harmony said. "What happens when a Slayer dies? They just get another one. She comes back here, and we just have somebody new killing vampires. Back to square one."
"So what's the point?" the new vamp said. "Did we knock her out just to piss her off?"
The others were all laughing now -- laughing at that new vamp, not at her, a change of pace Harmony found absolutely exhilarating. "God, man," Tess said, "get with the program!"
"You guys pick her up," Harmony said, gesturing grandly at Buffy's unconscious body. "We oughta hurry. She's stronger than us, so she's gonna wake up a lot earlier than Tuesday."
"You got it, Harmony," Gregory said approvingly.
"Oh, and that's another thing," she said. "It's not Harmony anymore. From now on -- it's just Harm."
They cheered and applauded and grabbed up her enemy to do her bidding. And Harm knew she hadn't felt this good since she'd died.
The first day, it didn't seem like such a big deal.
"So Buffy didn't call," Willow rationalized. "So what? It's the holidays, and people get busy, and sometimes people get blue, and it's not like we had anything big planned. Just decorating Giles' tree."
"Oh, thank you very much," Giles said, sipping from his eggnog.
"You know what I mean," Willow said, as she moved a few ornaments to the back of the tree so those branches wouldn't get lonely. "I mean, this is cool and special and all, but it's not like she skipped out on patrol."
"I still think she should've called us or something," Xander griped as he fitfully tossed tinsel strands on the branches. "This is Anya's first Christmas as a human in just about forever --"
"They used to put real candles on the trees," Anya said, looking doubtfully at a Taco Bell chihuahua ornament. "Caused a lot of fires."
"Very suspenseful," Spike said from the kitchen, as he pulled a mug of warm blood from the microwave. "Lots better, if you ask me."
"Better or not, I wish she'd celebrate with us instead of moping by herself," Xander said.
"Now, Xander, she might as easily be shopping," Giles said. "In fact, given Buffy's general inclinations, I think that's the most likely guess."
Spike laughed. "Bollocks. She's off pining over Soul-Boy. Ten to one."
"Either way," Willow said firmly, "it's not that big a deal. So, let's just turn the lights on and get a look at this baby."
Giles got down on his hands and knees and fiddled with the wires beneath the packages for a minute; then the lights came on, red and gold and green, and Xander and Willow applauded. After a minute, Anya followed suit.
"Oooh, the star!" Willow said. "Want to put it on top, Spike?"
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Spike said.
"Seeing as how that's probably a 'no,' I'll take care of it," Xander said, hanging on to the side of Giles' stair rail to put the star on top.
"Beautiful," Anya sighed.
"I'm glad you like it," Giles said.
"Who wouldn't?" she answered dreamily. "The way Xander's butt looks when he goes up steps --"
"All righty," Willow said hurriedly, "another tree duly decorated for the holidays. And Miss Buffy will just have to admire our masterpiece when she shows up."
The second day, it seemed pretty damn obnoxious.
"I mean, sure," Willow huffed, roughly jamming the CDs she'd bought for Xander into a box, "the holidays suck. I mean, they suck for everybody, right?"
"Right," Spike said. Exactly why he'd decided to come by her place, she wasn't sure -- maybe it was because she'd mentioned that her parents were out for the night. Maybe he'd thought she would be lonely. Nobody really understood Spike, Willow decided, and she managed a quick smile for him before Buffy's inconsideration took over her thoughts again.
"And, yeah, I bet she does miss Angel. Or Riley. Or Angel and Riley. But she's not the only person who's alone this year," Willow said.
"This is the first Christmas I've spent without Drusilla in -- God. Almost 130 years."
"Really?" Willow's furious assault on the wrapping paper stilled, and she looked up at at Spike with dewy-eyed empathy. He looked so strangely out of place -- Spike, a vampire more than a century old, wearing a black leather duster, sitting on the floor of Ira Rosenberg's living room, not far from the menorah. "Oh, Spike, I'm sorry. You must feel so lonely."
"Yeah," Spike said, shifting slightly closer to Willow. "I do. We used to have the best Christmases, me and Dru. She loved this time of year. All those carolers going about late at night -- unarmed --"
"Uh, okay, enough story," Willow said.
"Suppose you're lonely too, what with Lassie not coming home and all," Spike said.
"Yeah," Willow said. She stared down at the shiny green paper in her hands. Last year, she and Oz had just been getting back together again; they'd spent Christmas Eve cuddled up in her bed, not doing anything really, just hugging, talking, kissing -- "Spike?"
"Yeah, Red?" he said softly.
"How come you're touching my hair?"
After a brief pause, Spike said, "You had tinsel in it."
"Oh," she said. "Thanks." She scooted away from him a little.
"The Slayer will get over her pout any day now," Spike said. "And you lot can go about your sickeningly sweet holiday business. If I were you, I'd appreciate the time to be out-of-sorts in peace."
Willow smiled shyly. "You're trying to be nice without sounding nice," she said. "You think I don't catch on, but I do."
"Hell, no," Spike said. "I'm trying to sound nice without being nice. World of difference."
"I don't believe you."
"You should; you're smart enough to know better," Spike said, laughing. "That's why I don't hate you quite so much as the others. You've got a bit of sense about you."
"Yeah, yeah," Willow said, taping the paper around the box. "I kinda like you too, Spike. I mean, it's not like you're evil anymore."
Spike was quiet for a long moment. Willow looked over at him curiously; he seemed, somehow, to be even paler than usual. At last, he said in a gravelly voice, "What did you say?"
"What? I said you weren't evil, and -- you're not. I mean, you're not killing people any more, are you?"
"No --"
"And you're helping us kill demons and other vampires and stuff, right?"
"Right --"
"And you're being all nice to me while I'm freaking about Buffy --"
"Yeah, but --"
"Plus you stuck the bows on my last three packages," Willow said. "What's evil about that?"
"I'm still -- very, very evil!" Spike said. "I mean, maybe not so much in in the active sense, but desires, motivations, hopes for the future -- all still evil."
"Well, it takes time to change," Willow said. "You're not evil. You're just -- morally ambiguous."
Spike stood up, fists clenched. He hissed, "Take --- that --- back."
She stuck her chin out. "Will not."
"Well, I have had enough of this," Spike said, furious down to the core. "I'm headed out to kill something. The demons of Sunnydale had better watch out -- real evil is headed their way. And don't you forget it!" He stomped out into the night.
"He knows Buffy's not patrolling," Willow said to herself as she fished out a name tag. "So he's going out to help. The guys just have him all wrong."
The fourth day was when it got scary.
"There's not calling, and then there's not calling," Xander said. "The holiday blues are one thing, but they're not this thing."
Giles took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm inclined to agree with you, Xander. Buffy's absence is -- significant."
"So, where would she be?" Anya said.
"Say, you don't suppose she's dead, do you?" Spike said nonchalantly. When the other four people in the room turned to stare at him accusingly, he shrugged. "Sorry, but Slayers being Slayers, it's a fair question."
"Let's think this through," Xander said. "Buffy's defeated the Master, Angel, you -- and on more than one occasion, so don't even try to deny it -- Mr. Trick, the Mayor, Faith, the Gentlemen and about eight thousand vampires and demons. Let's all look outside the window. Has the world ended? No. So nothing's come along that could take out Buffy."
"Xander is making an uncommon amount of sense today," Giles said. "It's far more likely that her absence is due to more ordinary reasons. Do you think she might have gone to join her mother in Africa?"
Willow shook her head. "There's all these immunizations you have to get in advance," she said. "I mean, you can go without them, but Mrs. Summers wouldn't let her. No way. But --"
"But what?" Xander said.
"She mentioned that Riley had invited her to Iowa. Maybe she went there."
"Who?" Giles said.
Willow, surprised Giles didn't know, stumbled over her answer. "Oh, just a friend of ours. From class. From school."
Anya waggled her eyebrows. Giles didn't seem to catch on. "Do you have the phone number for this friend?"
"No, but he's from this really small town. I bet we can track his family down through 411. Let's see --"
Riley's family were not, in fact, the only Finns in town, but they were the third number Willow tried. As the others clustered around Giles' desk (except for Spike, who was flipping through TV channels with inhuman speed, over and over), Willow waited for Riley to come to the phone. At last he said, "Willow? Merry Christmas!"
"Thanks. Same to you --"
"Oh, wait. No. Happy Chanukah."
"Thanks again --"
"No, no, that's wrong too -- Buffy said you were kind of a pagan -- is it the solstice?"
Willow laughed. "I consider myself well-wished."
"Okay, then," Riley said. "Say, is Buffy there?"
Her heart sank. "No. No, she's not around --"
"Oh," Riley said. She could hear the disappointment in his voice, could see it reflected in the faces around her. "I kinda thought she would've called me by now, but I haven't heard a word."
"Well, she's been busy," Willow said. "I haven't heard from her that much myself."
"I guess the holidays get hectic for everyone," Riley said, good nature restored. "But it was sweet of you to take the time to call, Willow."
"Just wanted to wish you the best. And --"
"Yeah?"
"Happy New Year," Willow said, hanging up before she blurted out anything she'd have to explain later..
"There's a dead end," Anya huffed. "What next?"
Willow looked up at Giles. "You have Angel's number in Los Angeles, right?"
"Right," Giles said, going to thumb through the scraps of paper where he kept far too much important information.
"Come on," Xander said. "She wouldn't have gone back to him. Not again. That's over."
"Those two are never over," Spike said, never taking his eyes from the ever-changing images on the screen. "No longer lovers, maybe. Separated, sure. Bitter enemies, even. But not over."
"Why would I listen to you?" Xander asked.
"You wouldn't, unless you were a lot smarter than you are, which you aren't," Spike said. "So I'm basically just talking to hear myself talk. Good enough reason any day."
"Last Christmas was pretty intense for them," Willow said in a low voice. "And she's been missing him. She told me so."
"Great," Xander said. "Nothing makes the holidays special like Buffy's demon lover."
Giles handed Willow the number, which she dialed after wondering for a moment why she got the phone-call duties. After two rings, she heard a familiar voice sing-song, "Angel Investigations -- we help the hopeless. Are you one of them?"
"Cordelia?"
"Willow? Ohmigod, I totally didn't expect to hear from you. Is this, like, the happy-holidays call?"
"Uh, no," Willow said, a little ashamed that the idea had never occurred to her.
"Figures," Cordelia said, with a trace of her old snap. "So, what's the deal? Is the world ending again?"
"Not that I know of," Willow said. "But actually, we're kind of short one Slayer. Is Buffy down there with you guys?"
"You mean, with Angel. Because it's not like she would be running down here to hang with me," Cordelia said. "No, she's not around."
"Are you sure?" Willow said. "I mean, she and Angel might have decided they wanted some alone time --"
"Uh, hello," Cordelia said. "Of course I'm sure. For one, Angel would totally tell me if something this major were going on, and for two, he lives downstairs from the office, so I'm running down to his place for books and weapons and low-cal creamer about five times a day. Unless Buffy's hiding in the closet, she's not around."
"All right, then," Willow said, and took a deep breath. "Cordelia, Buffy's kinda -- taken off, and we need to figure out where. We were thinking maybe Angel would have some ideas, so if you could just get him --"
"No way," Cordelia said.
Willow stared at the receiver. "Uh, I don't think I got that --"
"Angel has been through a lot the last few days," Cordelia said, and there was a quavering quality to her voice that Willow had never heard before. "We both have. A friend of ours died and -- and this is just not the time to freak him out over nothing."
"I'm sorry, Cordy," Willow said. "But if Buffy's in trouble, he'd want to know."
"That's not exactly a news flash," Cordelia said. "But you don't know that she's in trouble. She just took off. Doesn't have to mean anything at all, except she wanted out of Sunnydale for a day, which is not only not weird but totally understandable. Right?"
"Right," Willow admitted.
"I'm not trying to be a bitch about this," Cordelia said. "I mean it. It's just that -- every time somebody even says her name, it kills him. Just kills him. If I tell him Buffy's upset about something, and she's taken off on her own, so on and so forth, he's gonna freak. You know Angel -- he goes straight for the worst-case scenario. He'd lose it. And the two of us are only just getting ourselves back together after --"
"I understand," Willow said.
"But, if -- if it is something serious -- call back right away. We'll be there. Both of us," Cordelia said.
"Thanks," Willow said. "And Cordy --"
"Yeah?"
"Merry Christmas."
There was a pause, and somehow Willow felt as if she could hear Cordelia smile. "Same to you."
After Willow hung up, they all remained in place. The silence was only punctuated by the clatter from the TV, still changing stations every two seconds, courtesy of Spike.
Finally, Xander said, "I didn't get all of that, but I do understand that Buffy's still AWOL."
"Right," Willow said. "Giles, I'm starting to feel really bad about this."
Giles did not answer; he was looking fixedly down at his desk. Willow said again, "Giles?"
He shook his head slightly, smiled and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's only natural to be worried. But we must be reasonable. Christmas is in two days, yes?"
"She wouldn't let Christmas go by without calling us," Willow said, brightening.
"Or, if she does -- then we know we have a problem," Xander said.
"My thoughts precisely," Giles said. "There's no point in worrying about this any more until then."
"Chill," Spike said. "She's probably decided to celebrate by ditching all the solemn-sacred-duty crap for a week or so. She's probably getting a tan on the beach."
The room whirled, tilted, spun again, fell black.
She couldn't see any more, couldn't feel, but she could hear --
"I think she's coming around."
"So get another dose ready, dorko."
"Sorry, Harm."
Buffy opened her eyes just a sliver. High above her, something fluttered -- something in red and gold --
"Sunnydale High Razorbacks, District Champions, 1995"
That banner used to be in the gym, Buffy thought dazedly. Then, as she forced herself to look around, she realized -- this is the gym.
Of course, she'd never seen it like this. The gymnasium had more or less made it through the dynamite blast that had killed the Mayor, but it was the worse for wear; the banner hanging over her head was virtually the only thing that wasn't singed black. The bleachers were broken and lopsided; a few posters for the graduation dance that never was clung feebly to the walls, their edges curled and ashen.
I promised Principal Flutie that I wouldn't burn down the gym, Buffy thought dazedly. So much for promises.
"Good morning, sunshine!" Harm chirped. Buffy jerked her head toward the noise; the hard curl of metal against her neck made her look around once again and realize that she was actually in a cage.
"Oooh, wait, no," Harm said. "Not really a good nickname. Sunshine could still hurt me. But you can't."
"Got another dose, Harm," said a young vampire who ducked into Buffy's narrow field of vision. "You wanna do it?"
"First things first," Harm said. "I get the first serving from the Buffy Buffet."
Buffy watched, horrified but immobile, as Harm knelt at the foot of the cage. Her lower legs extended from the cage, locked in place with chains. Harm ran one finger down the length of Buffy's foot. "Does that tickle? Guess not. Anyway, you're gonna spend most of the rest of your fairly long life -- considering everything -- asleep. No pain, no worries. Really, you oughta thank me. But during these few moments, when your blood won't make us sleepy -- it's going to make us strong."
And Harm sank her teeth into the flesh of Buffy's leg. Buffy cried out in wordless pain and despair -- oh, God, this was it, death by vampire, by Harmony no less, the one thing above all she'd prayed to be spared --
But after only a moment, after only the first whirl of dizziness, Harm pulled away and wiped her mouth. Buffy could hear cheering.
"The trick is not to be greedy," Harm said, smoothing her blonde tresses away from her demonic face. "The trick is to take only what you can spare. You're the Slayer. It takes a lot to kill you. So we're going to find out just how close we can get."
Buffy felt the jab of the tranquilizer dart in her gut, and as they laughed and jeered at her, the darkness swam up to swallow her again.
END PART TWO
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IN HARM'S WAY
by Yahtzee
Yahtzee63@aol.com
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Part 2
"Harmony! Way to go!" Gregory said as he ran up. The other vampires were just as enthusiastic.
"That was so cool, the way you just walked up to her -- "
"The thing with the shoes -- that's classic! I can't believe she fell for that trick!"
"How come nobody thought of this before?"
Harmony wrinkled her forehead; it was a pretty obvious tactic, wasn't it? "Well, we -- vampires -- we kill by instinct. We want to use our hands and our fangs. It's hard to think about killing with things like guns. But we can make ourselves think like that if we try."
Was that what she wanted to say? Close enough, anyway. The other vampires were all looking at her admiringly. Harmony hadn't felt this good since she'd seen Queen C knocked into a dumpster.
"So, Harmony, I guess you want to be the one to kill her, right?" said one vamp, who'd joined their hunting party late.
"You dork," she said scathingly. "If we were gonna kill her, we'd have used a real gun. And if I drank her now, I'd be knocked out until Tuesday, at least. That's like 800 Tylenol PM in her system."
The vamp didn't get it. "But she's the Slayer! She's knocked out! Laid out on the street like an all-you-can-eat --- Slayer bar! You're telling me we're not gonna kill her?"
"Think, lamebrain," Harmony said. "What happens when a Slayer dies? They just get another one. She comes back here, and we just have somebody new killing vampires. Back to square one."
"So what's the point?" the new vamp said. "Did we knock her out just to piss her off?"
The others were all laughing now -- laughing at that new vamp, not at her, a change of pace Harmony found absolutely exhilarating. "God, man," Tess said, "get with the program!"
"You guys pick her up," Harmony said, gesturing grandly at Buffy's unconscious body. "We oughta hurry. She's stronger than us, so she's gonna wake up a lot earlier than Tuesday."
"You got it, Harmony," Gregory said approvingly.
"Oh, and that's another thing," she said. "It's not Harmony anymore. From now on -- it's just Harm."
They cheered and applauded and grabbed up her enemy to do her bidding. And Harm knew she hadn't felt this good since she'd died.
The first day, it didn't seem like such a big deal.
"So Buffy didn't call," Willow rationalized. "So what? It's the holidays, and people get busy, and sometimes people get blue, and it's not like we had anything big planned. Just decorating Giles' tree."
"Oh, thank you very much," Giles said, sipping from his eggnog.
"You know what I mean," Willow said, as she moved a few ornaments to the back of the tree so those branches wouldn't get lonely. "I mean, this is cool and special and all, but it's not like she skipped out on patrol."
"I still think she should've called us or something," Xander griped as he fitfully tossed tinsel strands on the branches. "This is Anya's first Christmas as a human in just about forever --"
"They used to put real candles on the trees," Anya said, looking doubtfully at a Taco Bell chihuahua ornament. "Caused a lot of fires."
"Very suspenseful," Spike said from the kitchen, as he pulled a mug of warm blood from the microwave. "Lots better, if you ask me."
"Better or not, I wish she'd celebrate with us instead of moping by herself," Xander said.
"Now, Xander, she might as easily be shopping," Giles said. "In fact, given Buffy's general inclinations, I think that's the most likely guess."
Spike laughed. "Bollocks. She's off pining over Soul-Boy. Ten to one."
"Either way," Willow said firmly, "it's not that big a deal. So, let's just turn the lights on and get a look at this baby."
Giles got down on his hands and knees and fiddled with the wires beneath the packages for a minute; then the lights came on, red and gold and green, and Xander and Willow applauded. After a minute, Anya followed suit.
"Oooh, the star!" Willow said. "Want to put it on top, Spike?"
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Spike said.
"Seeing as how that's probably a 'no,' I'll take care of it," Xander said, hanging on to the side of Giles' stair rail to put the star on top.
"Beautiful," Anya sighed.
"I'm glad you like it," Giles said.
"Who wouldn't?" she answered dreamily. "The way Xander's butt looks when he goes up steps --"
"All righty," Willow said hurriedly, "another tree duly decorated for the holidays. And Miss Buffy will just have to admire our masterpiece when she shows up."
The second day, it seemed pretty damn obnoxious.
"I mean, sure," Willow huffed, roughly jamming the CDs she'd bought for Xander into a box, "the holidays suck. I mean, they suck for everybody, right?"
"Right," Spike said. Exactly why he'd decided to come by her place, she wasn't sure -- maybe it was because she'd mentioned that her parents were out for the night. Maybe he'd thought she would be lonely. Nobody really understood Spike, Willow decided, and she managed a quick smile for him before Buffy's inconsideration took over her thoughts again.
"And, yeah, I bet she does miss Angel. Or Riley. Or Angel and Riley. But she's not the only person who's alone this year," Willow said.
"This is the first Christmas I've spent without Drusilla in -- God. Almost 130 years."
"Really?" Willow's furious assault on the wrapping paper stilled, and she looked up at at Spike with dewy-eyed empathy. He looked so strangely out of place -- Spike, a vampire more than a century old, wearing a black leather duster, sitting on the floor of Ira Rosenberg's living room, not far from the menorah. "Oh, Spike, I'm sorry. You must feel so lonely."
"Yeah," Spike said, shifting slightly closer to Willow. "I do. We used to have the best Christmases, me and Dru. She loved this time of year. All those carolers going about late at night -- unarmed --"
"Uh, okay, enough story," Willow said.
"Suppose you're lonely too, what with Lassie not coming home and all," Spike said.
"Yeah," Willow said. She stared down at the shiny green paper in her hands. Last year, she and Oz had just been getting back together again; they'd spent Christmas Eve cuddled up in her bed, not doing anything really, just hugging, talking, kissing -- "Spike?"
"Yeah, Red?" he said softly.
"How come you're touching my hair?"
After a brief pause, Spike said, "You had tinsel in it."
"Oh," she said. "Thanks." She scooted away from him a little.
"The Slayer will get over her pout any day now," Spike said. "And you lot can go about your sickeningly sweet holiday business. If I were you, I'd appreciate the time to be out-of-sorts in peace."
Willow smiled shyly. "You're trying to be nice without sounding nice," she said. "You think I don't catch on, but I do."
"Hell, no," Spike said. "I'm trying to sound nice without being nice. World of difference."
"I don't believe you."
"You should; you're smart enough to know better," Spike said, laughing. "That's why I don't hate you quite so much as the others. You've got a bit of sense about you."
"Yeah, yeah," Willow said, taping the paper around the box. "I kinda like you too, Spike. I mean, it's not like you're evil anymore."
Spike was quiet for a long moment. Willow looked over at him curiously; he seemed, somehow, to be even paler than usual. At last, he said in a gravelly voice, "What did you say?"
"What? I said you weren't evil, and -- you're not. I mean, you're not killing people any more, are you?"
"No --"
"And you're helping us kill demons and other vampires and stuff, right?"
"Right --"
"And you're being all nice to me while I'm freaking about Buffy --"
"Yeah, but --"
"Plus you stuck the bows on my last three packages," Willow said. "What's evil about that?"
"I'm still -- very, very evil!" Spike said. "I mean, maybe not so much in in the active sense, but desires, motivations, hopes for the future -- all still evil."
"Well, it takes time to change," Willow said. "You're not evil. You're just -- morally ambiguous."
Spike stood up, fists clenched. He hissed, "Take --- that --- back."
She stuck her chin out. "Will not."
"Well, I have had enough of this," Spike said, furious down to the core. "I'm headed out to kill something. The demons of Sunnydale had better watch out -- real evil is headed their way. And don't you forget it!" He stomped out into the night.
"He knows Buffy's not patrolling," Willow said to herself as she fished out a name tag. "So he's going out to help. The guys just have him all wrong."
The fourth day was when it got scary.
"There's not calling, and then there's not calling," Xander said. "The holiday blues are one thing, but they're not this thing."
Giles took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm inclined to agree with you, Xander. Buffy's absence is -- significant."
"So, where would she be?" Anya said.
"Say, you don't suppose she's dead, do you?" Spike said nonchalantly. When the other four people in the room turned to stare at him accusingly, he shrugged. "Sorry, but Slayers being Slayers, it's a fair question."
"Let's think this through," Xander said. "Buffy's defeated the Master, Angel, you -- and on more than one occasion, so don't even try to deny it -- Mr. Trick, the Mayor, Faith, the Gentlemen and about eight thousand vampires and demons. Let's all look outside the window. Has the world ended? No. So nothing's come along that could take out Buffy."
"Xander is making an uncommon amount of sense today," Giles said. "It's far more likely that her absence is due to more ordinary reasons. Do you think she might have gone to join her mother in Africa?"
Willow shook her head. "There's all these immunizations you have to get in advance," she said. "I mean, you can go without them, but Mrs. Summers wouldn't let her. No way. But --"
"But what?" Xander said.
"She mentioned that Riley had invited her to Iowa. Maybe she went there."
"Who?" Giles said.
Willow, surprised Giles didn't know, stumbled over her answer. "Oh, just a friend of ours. From class. From school."
Anya waggled her eyebrows. Giles didn't seem to catch on. "Do you have the phone number for this friend?"
"No, but he's from this really small town. I bet we can track his family down through 411. Let's see --"
Riley's family were not, in fact, the only Finns in town, but they were the third number Willow tried. As the others clustered around Giles' desk (except for Spike, who was flipping through TV channels with inhuman speed, over and over), Willow waited for Riley to come to the phone. At last he said, "Willow? Merry Christmas!"
"Thanks. Same to you --"
"Oh, wait. No. Happy Chanukah."
"Thanks again --"
"No, no, that's wrong too -- Buffy said you were kind of a pagan -- is it the solstice?"
Willow laughed. "I consider myself well-wished."
"Okay, then," Riley said. "Say, is Buffy there?"
Her heart sank. "No. No, she's not around --"
"Oh," Riley said. She could hear the disappointment in his voice, could see it reflected in the faces around her. "I kinda thought she would've called me by now, but I haven't heard a word."
"Well, she's been busy," Willow said. "I haven't heard from her that much myself."
"I guess the holidays get hectic for everyone," Riley said, good nature restored. "But it was sweet of you to take the time to call, Willow."
"Just wanted to wish you the best. And --"
"Yeah?"
"Happy New Year," Willow said, hanging up before she blurted out anything she'd have to explain later..
"There's a dead end," Anya huffed. "What next?"
Willow looked up at Giles. "You have Angel's number in Los Angeles, right?"
"Right," Giles said, going to thumb through the scraps of paper where he kept far too much important information.
"Come on," Xander said. "She wouldn't have gone back to him. Not again. That's over."
"Those two are never over," Spike said, never taking his eyes from the ever-changing images on the screen. "No longer lovers, maybe. Separated, sure. Bitter enemies, even. But not over."
"Why would I listen to you?" Xander asked.
"You wouldn't, unless you were a lot smarter than you are, which you aren't," Spike said. "So I'm basically just talking to hear myself talk. Good enough reason any day."
"Last Christmas was pretty intense for them," Willow said in a low voice. "And she's been missing him. She told me so."
"Great," Xander said. "Nothing makes the holidays special like Buffy's demon lover."
Giles handed Willow the number, which she dialed after wondering for a moment why she got the phone-call duties. After two rings, she heard a familiar voice sing-song, "Angel Investigations -- we help the hopeless. Are you one of them?"
"Cordelia?"
"Willow? Ohmigod, I totally didn't expect to hear from you. Is this, like, the happy-holidays call?"
"Uh, no," Willow said, a little ashamed that the idea had never occurred to her.
"Figures," Cordelia said, with a trace of her old snap. "So, what's the deal? Is the world ending again?"
"Not that I know of," Willow said. "But actually, we're kind of short one Slayer. Is Buffy down there with you guys?"
"You mean, with Angel. Because it's not like she would be running down here to hang with me," Cordelia said. "No, she's not around."
"Are you sure?" Willow said. "I mean, she and Angel might have decided they wanted some alone time --"
"Uh, hello," Cordelia said. "Of course I'm sure. For one, Angel would totally tell me if something this major were going on, and for two, he lives downstairs from the office, so I'm running down to his place for books and weapons and low-cal creamer about five times a day. Unless Buffy's hiding in the closet, she's not around."
"All right, then," Willow said, and took a deep breath. "Cordelia, Buffy's kinda -- taken off, and we need to figure out where. We were thinking maybe Angel would have some ideas, so if you could just get him --"
"No way," Cordelia said.
Willow stared at the receiver. "Uh, I don't think I got that --"
"Angel has been through a lot the last few days," Cordelia said, and there was a quavering quality to her voice that Willow had never heard before. "We both have. A friend of ours died and -- and this is just not the time to freak him out over nothing."
"I'm sorry, Cordy," Willow said. "But if Buffy's in trouble, he'd want to know."
"That's not exactly a news flash," Cordelia said. "But you don't know that she's in trouble. She just took off. Doesn't have to mean anything at all, except she wanted out of Sunnydale for a day, which is not only not weird but totally understandable. Right?"
"Right," Willow admitted.
"I'm not trying to be a bitch about this," Cordelia said. "I mean it. It's just that -- every time somebody even says her name, it kills him. Just kills him. If I tell him Buffy's upset about something, and she's taken off on her own, so on and so forth, he's gonna freak. You know Angel -- he goes straight for the worst-case scenario. He'd lose it. And the two of us are only just getting ourselves back together after --"
"I understand," Willow said.
"But, if -- if it is something serious -- call back right away. We'll be there. Both of us," Cordelia said.
"Thanks," Willow said. "And Cordy --"
"Yeah?"
"Merry Christmas."
There was a pause, and somehow Willow felt as if she could hear Cordelia smile. "Same to you."
After Willow hung up, they all remained in place. The silence was only punctuated by the clatter from the TV, still changing stations every two seconds, courtesy of Spike.
Finally, Xander said, "I didn't get all of that, but I do understand that Buffy's still AWOL."
"Right," Willow said. "Giles, I'm starting to feel really bad about this."
Giles did not answer; he was looking fixedly down at his desk. Willow said again, "Giles?"
He shook his head slightly, smiled and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's only natural to be worried. But we must be reasonable. Christmas is in two days, yes?"
"She wouldn't let Christmas go by without calling us," Willow said, brightening.
"Or, if she does -- then we know we have a problem," Xander said.
"My thoughts precisely," Giles said. "There's no point in worrying about this any more until then."
"Chill," Spike said. "She's probably decided to celebrate by ditching all the solemn-sacred-duty crap for a week or so. She's probably getting a tan on the beach."
The room whirled, tilted, spun again, fell black.
She couldn't see any more, couldn't feel, but she could hear --
"I think she's coming around."
"So get another dose ready, dorko."
"Sorry, Harm."
Buffy opened her eyes just a sliver. High above her, something fluttered -- something in red and gold --
"Sunnydale High Razorbacks, District Champions, 1995"
That banner used to be in the gym, Buffy thought dazedly. Then, as she forced herself to look around, she realized -- this is the gym.
Of course, she'd never seen it like this. The gymnasium had more or less made it through the dynamite blast that had killed the Mayor, but it was the worse for wear; the banner hanging over her head was virtually the only thing that wasn't singed black. The bleachers were broken and lopsided; a few posters for the graduation dance that never was clung feebly to the walls, their edges curled and ashen.
I promised Principal Flutie that I wouldn't burn down the gym, Buffy thought dazedly. So much for promises.
"Good morning, sunshine!" Harm chirped. Buffy jerked her head toward the noise; the hard curl of metal against her neck made her look around once again and realize that she was actually in a cage.
"Oooh, wait, no," Harm said. "Not really a good nickname. Sunshine could still hurt me. But you can't."
"Got another dose, Harm," said a young vampire who ducked into Buffy's narrow field of vision. "You wanna do it?"
"First things first," Harm said. "I get the first serving from the Buffy Buffet."
Buffy watched, horrified but immobile, as Harm knelt at the foot of the cage. Her lower legs extended from the cage, locked in place with chains. Harm ran one finger down the length of Buffy's foot. "Does that tickle? Guess not. Anyway, you're gonna spend most of the rest of your fairly long life -- considering everything -- asleep. No pain, no worries. Really, you oughta thank me. But during these few moments, when your blood won't make us sleepy -- it's going to make us strong."
And Harm sank her teeth into the flesh of Buffy's leg. Buffy cried out in wordless pain and despair -- oh, God, this was it, death by vampire, by Harmony no less, the one thing above all she'd prayed to be spared --
But after only a moment, after only the first whirl of dizziness, Harm pulled away and wiped her mouth. Buffy could hear cheering.
"The trick is not to be greedy," Harm said, smoothing her blonde tresses away from her demonic face. "The trick is to take only what you can spare. You're the Slayer. It takes a lot to kill you. So we're going to find out just how close we can get."
Buffy felt the jab of the tranquilizer dart in her gut, and as they laughed and jeered at her, the darkness swam up to swallow her again.
END PART TWO