Author's note: Sorry it took so long to get this done. A little writer's trick ... always be working on a ton of stories so this way, you're never not working. Of course, it does have one tiny disadvantage, as you can tell ... :)
Chapter IV: The Reality
by Troll Princess
I'd gone insane.
That was it. It had to be it. Just a little temporary insanity to accompany the new demon thing I had going on. You know, gain a few scales, lose a few brain cells. Right? Right?
"You're a demon."
It was all I could think to say. Let's confirm the crazy, fairly unbelievable thing I'd just put together in my head.
Giles nodded.
"You are a demon."
"Yes," Giles said.
"You are a demon."
Okay, now I was just frustrating him. He reached up and massaged the bridge of his nose like he always did when he was getting annoyed. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I seem to remember saying something along those lines already."
"No. No, you said it. Just a touch of short-term memory loss, that's all." I had to sit down, before my knees spontaneously combusted. This was just way too weird.
Giles was a demon?
I heard him groan -- he must have read the look on my face -- but I just couldn't pay attention. I headed for the nearest chair and plopped down hard, hoping maybe that'd jar my brain back into something resembling reality. Because if this was reality, there was some serious therapy in my future.
What was I supposed to do with that information? I mean, God ... I couldn't think clearly on that one. I just looked up at him and said, "You're like me."
Well, hey, it was true. Stupidly put, but true.
I'm betting I looked like hell. Or worse. Like hell's belligerent, drunk Uncle Jed. I could tell by the way Giles was staring at me. That 'sorry your puppy was hit by a bus' kind of a look. That, and something like recognition. He shook his head as he sat in a nearby chair. "I can't believe I didn't see it sooner. I knew you looked familiar, I just ..." He got this almost apologetic look in his eyes. "I haven't seen Eric in quite some time. I forgot what he looked like."
Whoa, hold up. Back up the train. First off ... Eric. My father. He had a name. It hadn't even hit me until that moment that he hadn't told it to me.
And secondly ... "How is that even possible? Forgetting the guy?"
"Orrick demons are a legend for a reason, Xander. Because we are not supposed to exist anymore," he said. "It is a curse that has hung over Orrick demons for centuries. It's far easier to eliminate all trace of Orrick demons from history than it is to stuff all of human history into one little book. After a while, the information is wiped from our memories, no matter whether we want to remember it or not."
"Is that's why there's gaps?" There were, too. For every thousand things I knew, there was one empty space where I knew there should have been ... I don't know. A memory or something? "I feel like my brain's all Swiss-cheesed. I mean, I know a lot of stuff, but there's all these holes. Especially with what you know. I mean, it's not like with the others."
He opened his mouth to speak, then smiled weakly and shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe they've lain this on me."
"Come again?"
"Explaining this to you. You'd think Eric would have taken five minutes out of his oh-so-busy schedule to mention, Oh, by the by, here's everything you need to know."
I cocked an eyebrow and said, "Maybe they thought they'd throw it in your lap because you're so used to explaining everything to me already."
Well, I had him there. You know, if I was right. "Point, you."
We shared a friendly, boy-I-know-what-you-mean smile. Okay, back to business. "Why are there so many holes?"
Giles sighed, and took a moment to wave his hand in the air in a simple symbol. My brain processed the symbol even as the pieces of the teacup flew the air, reassembled in Giles's hand, and refilled with tea from out of nowhere, even as the spill on the floor evaporated.
Wow. Cool.
He took a deep breath and a sip of the tea before saying, "Because everything the least little bit related to Orrick demons isn't there. A vampire meets an Orrick demon twenty years ago and suddenly, I can't remember what that vampire did for the next three months afterwards. Why do you think I have so much bloody trouble doing this job?" He got this really weird look on his face, a bittersweet smile as his gaze connected with mine. "It's the reason I love this job so much. It's the only one I've ever tried with any sort of a degree of difficulty."
Okay, but he still had me lost. Call me Questions and Answers Boy here, but if I have to be some kind of slimy, horny demon thing, I want a handbook or something, at least. "Yeah, but I don't get it. Why can't we know about ourselves? Does that sound as stupid to me as it does to you?"
"Extremely. But it's the law."
The law. Yeah, right. "Okay, from my experiences with mayors and the police department, you'll forgive me if laws have lost what little appeal they had in the first place."
I'm guessing from the look on his face that he knew where I was coming from. It was so weird ... knowing the things he knew for sure and not being able to access that internal monologue of his. Might have come in handy.
"After the fall of the gods, Orrick demons as a whole moved into a dimension constructed for their personal use, and have stayed there most of the time ever since." He shrugged uneasily. "Or so I've been told."
"But you can't be sure."
"I can only be sure of what I know. Which, unfortunately, is not as much as I would have liked in the beginning. I could have used a little foresight into the future on a number of occasions."
"We don't know the future," I said. I knew that already, but still, I couldn't be sure about anything in relation to my newfound powers.
He shook his head. "No. No, we don't. Too many variables. It tends to be a best-guess scenario. Your head will tell you something's going to happen and be completely and totally wrong."
Guilt was in his eyes right then and there, and I just kept thinking how horrible it must have been for him. Keeping this secret from us ... and jeez, how many things had he just let happen? A list of things he could have fixed, might have changed racked up in my head, things he had never done that he should have. Why hadn't he saved Miss Calendar? Why hadn't he done something to fix Joyce? Why hadn't he ...
He noticed the expression on my face and I saw this wave of pity just wash over the poor guy. "Xander, look at me," he said, staring at me in that oh-so serious way he did when he was trying to make a point I needed to know. You know, if I wanted to stay breathing and all. "We are a secret. No one can know we exist. If I tried to fix any of the bad things that have happened to us in the past five years by demonic means, too many questions would have been raised." A little of that dry wit of his slipped in as he added, "Like the ones that will come up when the authorities examine that busted water main."
"Oops," I said, positive I'd turned bright red. Then I noticed the crumpled frame of Giles's glasses sitting on the kitchen countertop. If he'd been going for making an impression when he'd broken them, it'd certainly done the trick. Something about Giles without his glasses seemed ... I don't know ... stronger?
I mentally fumbled for something to say and finally came up with, "You broke your glasses."
Oh, really genius material there, Harris.
Giles nodded before raising his free hand and snapping his fingers. It was weird. I mean, I knew the frame and the glass were collectively in itty bitty pieces across the room. But one second, they were there, and the next second, they were glasses again.
And the scary thing was, I knew how he'd done it.
"They're fine," he said. Yeah, no shit.
I couldn't help staring at him, at least for now. I mean, he's the Yoda. He's the guy with the brain cells. And while he was still technically the guy with the brain cells, this whole conversation had just taken that to an entirely new dimension, no pun intended.
I mean, the guy was a demon. Can't stress that enough. He and I were demons. Oh, my God ... if he's that girls' kid, and I'm her nephew, and ... ow. My head hurt.
All of a sudden, I got a mental image of her, and one look at Giles made me go absolutely petrified. "Oh, God, I just had a thought," I said with a groan.
"What?"
"You didn't hear it, did you?"
"No, Xander."
"Yeah, right. No reading thoughts." I took a deep breath and said as calmly as I could manage, "I just saw your mother naked."
He smiled dryly and said, "That's all right. If it makes you feel any better, when I showed up in that field, I saw her naked, too."
Ouch. "That's harsh."
"Extremely." He leaned back in his chair for a second, staring at me, silently sipping his tea. "Xander, can I ask you a question?"
"Shoot."
"Those things that you received last night ... what did you do with them?"
"Oh, you mean the book and that purse thing? I stuck that book in the cabinet with all those demonology books you keep giving me, and the purse thing is ... uh ..."
He could tell I was stalling. So nice to have a best friend who knew when the bullshit was getting deep. "Where is it?"
He said it like it was important that it was in a safe place. Oh, that's not good.
Quick, Xander, play stupid. You're good at it. "The purse?"
Giles nodded, a little embarassed. That was good. Apparently, I wasn't the only one put off by it. "Anya has it."
"Really?" He went momentarily pale as he waved his free hand and sent the teacup and saucer in the direction of the kitchen. He must have been distracted, because they both slammed into the wall and shattered once again.
"Oh, dear."
Oh, dear. He said "oh, dear." That coming out of Giles is never, ever good.
So, let's say I'm the narrator. Yeah, okay, so I am the narrator. Let's play the third person game for a while, all right?
So there's Anya, walking along Main Street with bag in hand, headed to work. Not suspecting a thing, just going about her business, being all fashion-y with her coordinated wardrobe and matching accessories.
She was almost to the magic store when she walked into the woman.
Woman. Huh. That's rich.
They both dropped their purses at the same time, and both dived for them like hungry sharks. My guess is Anya didn't notice that both purses looked exactly the same. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to --"
"Not a problem," the other woman said. If she would have actually known Anya, she'd have been shocked by the whole politeness thing. But what can I say? We'd been training.
Anya brushed the dust off her new purse as she glanced over at the other woman. Brown hair, blue-green eyes, nice flowery dress ... aside from the dress, she looked awfully familiar. "Do I know you? You look like I should know you."
The other woman smiled sweetly and clutched her purse to her side protectively. "If you didn't before, you do now."
Then, without warning, she vanished into thin air. Poof. Gone.