*******
returning
*******
"So," Spike began, "you gonna open the door or are we going to stand out here and wait to be discovered? This is a demon realm, slayer, not some walk through bleedin' Piccadilly Square. Open the door, go in, get the chit out, and let's leave."
Buffy looked at Spike over her shoulder. He was right, they needed to leave as soon as possible but she couldn't convince her legs to move. Thinking about it, she almost laughed out loud. To an outside observer, it would appear that she and Anya were close friends. They weren't really, by both their actions, nor would they ever be but they had managed to form an obscure kind of friendly acquaintance. Not only that, but Anya loved Xander, and vice versa, and Buffy refused to let anything come between their future happiness. Their love was too precious to destroy.
"Oh, bugger." Impatience won out and Spike pushed her back and shoved open the door. The scent was thick in the room, thick. but definitely alive. He still held the lighter in his hand from their discovery of Lisenka and he flipped it open, bathing the floor in a small circle of illumination.
They both scanned the ground, a silent and unanimous plea in their thoughts to discover Anya soon. Spike stopped moving the lighter, halting his path across the room and drawing Buffy's concerned attention.
"What is it? Did you find her?"
"Yeah," he muttered. "And just in time, looks like." Whirling around with his game face in place, Spike startled Buffy before she looked back toward the doorway.
A demon, unknown to Buffy, stood in the doorway, arms akimbo and an unfamiliar expression on his features. Buffy studied him for a moment noting the gray spines and skin. "Wow, so I guess we could just say you're all gray matter. Hi, I'm Buffy! We'll be taking our friend and leaving now."
The demon threw back his head, spines quivering with the sudden movement, and roared with laughter. "A mere mortal dares to challenge the ruling of the Higher Council of the Order of Vengeance Demons?"
Buffy cocked her head, the presence of a big bad nasty was helping clear her thoughts and keep her focused on the task at hand, namely retrieving Anya. "Uh huh. yeah, I do. We're taking Anya out of here, like it or not. The only question is whether we're going to do this the easy way or the hard way."
She paused a beat before adding, "If you're anything like all the other demons I've defeated, you'll pick the hard way."
He lowered his head, his glare settling on her face. "I am no demon, human."
"Yeah, yeah," Buffy countered, "I know. You used to be a hellgod and now you're a lackey to D'Hoffryn. Whatever. Are we going to fight now or are you just going to talk me to death?"
"Cease!"
All heads snapped around to the doorway Jharahalien had vacated. D'Hoffryn stood tall on the threshold, his expression unpleasant.
"Jharahalien will allow these humans to return Anyanka to the mortal realm she is now a part of." He held Jharahalien's gaze as he spoke, deliberately enunciating each word.
Jharahalien snorted with anger. "You've grown weak, D'Hoffryn. Anyanka always was a favored of yours." In a swirl of robes, the towering gray monstrosity lumbered out of the cavernous room.
D'Hoffryn faced the two who stood between him and the once great vengeance demon. "Tell Anyanka it was I who released her from this realm. And tell her I will not be able to protect her next time, should she decide to venture back into my realm."
Buffy watched the blue-skinned demon depart. "This is what he calls protecting? Sheesh, I'd hate to see what he does to his enemies." She spun around at a soft moan that came from the floor behind her.
Anya moved the fingers of one hand experimentally, her eyes squinting up at her unexpected guests. "How."
Buffy and Spike knelt down to her side, both concerned by the strangled word and the clear view of her face. Bruises both old and new colored the usually pale flesh and her eyes were dark and far too empty.
"Hey, Anya. We're here to take you home. Xander's missed you," Buffy murmured, adding, "we've all missed you."
The trip back to Sunnydale was less spectacular that the way out had been. A simple sprinkling of what looked to Buffy to be pixie dust, a wave of a hand and they were back in Sunnydale's central park, right where they had left. She glanced over at Spike who held an unconscious Anya, the dead weight taking an obvious toll on the peroxide vamp.
"Don't tell me she's too heavy for a big strong vampire like you," Buffy teased.
"What've they been feedin' 'er? She feels like a block o' lead." Noting Buffy's rolling eyes, he offered, "If you think you c'n do any better."
"Nah, you go ahead. Prove what a stud you are." She stepped toward the road that would eventually lead them to Giles' home. "It's cold out here, can't be good if she's in shock."
Unsure of the time, other that the fact that it was sometime after sunset but before sunrise, they made their way through Sunnydale with a surprising lack of interference. Coming up to Giles' front door, Buffy raised her hand to knock but was stopped short as the door swung open and Xander appeared on the threshold, his back to them as he continued speaking to Giles.
"Yeah, well, I'll be back tomorrow night. I don't think I can call in sick to work anymore anyway." Just before he turned to leave, he said, "You'll let me know if you find anything. I don't know, anything useful?"
"Yes, of course," Giles reassured him and chanced to look over the younger man's shoulder. "You might try turning around."
The rain had returned to California, drenching everything in its path, with the exception of the Scoobies' spirits. Anya's recovery had been a remarkable success and she had returned to her work at the Magic Box within a few weeks' time, ordering them all about as she worried over the pile of receipts Giles had neglected to incorporate into the store's log.
"Really, Giles," she commented as she added the figures a second time, just to be sure. "I was only gone a short time and look at the mess everything is in." She waved her arms dramatically at the forgotten receipts and dusty shelves. "I don't know how you would have managed if I hadn't come back."
Giles stopped short in his quest to locate a book a customer had phoned in a request for, his gaze falling on all those who worked to put the little shop back to rights. Xander caught his eye from his place among the shelves, feather duster in hand. He allowed himself to smile in silent amusement.
He studied Anya a moment before allowing himself to reply. The bruises and abrasions had faded and, after she'd slept for three solid days, her personality had begun to raise its oddly precise head. Time would be the only cure for her nightmares, not to mention Xander's presence. The young man had barely left her side from her sudden arrival in Spike's arms to the present.
"You're quite right, Anya. I don't think any of us would have been able to carry on for much longer."
"So," Spike began, "you gonna open the door or are we going to stand out here and wait to be discovered? This is a demon realm, slayer, not some walk through bleedin' Piccadilly Square. Open the door, go in, get the chit out, and let's leave."
Buffy looked at Spike over her shoulder. He was right, they needed to leave as soon as possible but she couldn't convince her legs to move. Thinking about it, she almost laughed out loud. To an outside observer, it would appear that she and Anya were close friends. They weren't really, by both their actions, nor would they ever be but they had managed to form an obscure kind of friendly acquaintance. Not only that, but Anya loved Xander, and vice versa, and Buffy refused to let anything come between their future happiness. Their love was too precious to destroy.
"Oh, bugger." Impatience won out and Spike pushed her back and shoved open the door. The scent was thick in the room, thick. but definitely alive. He still held the lighter in his hand from their discovery of Lisenka and he flipped it open, bathing the floor in a small circle of illumination.
They both scanned the ground, a silent and unanimous plea in their thoughts to discover Anya soon. Spike stopped moving the lighter, halting his path across the room and drawing Buffy's concerned attention.
"What is it? Did you find her?"
"Yeah," he muttered. "And just in time, looks like." Whirling around with his game face in place, Spike startled Buffy before she looked back toward the doorway.
A demon, unknown to Buffy, stood in the doorway, arms akimbo and an unfamiliar expression on his features. Buffy studied him for a moment noting the gray spines and skin. "Wow, so I guess we could just say you're all gray matter. Hi, I'm Buffy! We'll be taking our friend and leaving now."
The demon threw back his head, spines quivering with the sudden movement, and roared with laughter. "A mere mortal dares to challenge the ruling of the Higher Council of the Order of Vengeance Demons?"
Buffy cocked her head, the presence of a big bad nasty was helping clear her thoughts and keep her focused on the task at hand, namely retrieving Anya. "Uh huh. yeah, I do. We're taking Anya out of here, like it or not. The only question is whether we're going to do this the easy way or the hard way."
She paused a beat before adding, "If you're anything like all the other demons I've defeated, you'll pick the hard way."
He lowered his head, his glare settling on her face. "I am no demon, human."
"Yeah, yeah," Buffy countered, "I know. You used to be a hellgod and now you're a lackey to D'Hoffryn. Whatever. Are we going to fight now or are you just going to talk me to death?"
"Cease!"
All heads snapped around to the doorway Jharahalien had vacated. D'Hoffryn stood tall on the threshold, his expression unpleasant.
"Jharahalien will allow these humans to return Anyanka to the mortal realm she is now a part of." He held Jharahalien's gaze as he spoke, deliberately enunciating each word.
Jharahalien snorted with anger. "You've grown weak, D'Hoffryn. Anyanka always was a favored of yours." In a swirl of robes, the towering gray monstrosity lumbered out of the cavernous room.
D'Hoffryn faced the two who stood between him and the once great vengeance demon. "Tell Anyanka it was I who released her from this realm. And tell her I will not be able to protect her next time, should she decide to venture back into my realm."
Buffy watched the blue-skinned demon depart. "This is what he calls protecting? Sheesh, I'd hate to see what he does to his enemies." She spun around at a soft moan that came from the floor behind her.
Anya moved the fingers of one hand experimentally, her eyes squinting up at her unexpected guests. "How."
Buffy and Spike knelt down to her side, both concerned by the strangled word and the clear view of her face. Bruises both old and new colored the usually pale flesh and her eyes were dark and far too empty.
"Hey, Anya. We're here to take you home. Xander's missed you," Buffy murmured, adding, "we've all missed you."
The trip back to Sunnydale was less spectacular that the way out had been. A simple sprinkling of what looked to Buffy to be pixie dust, a wave of a hand and they were back in Sunnydale's central park, right where they had left. She glanced over at Spike who held an unconscious Anya, the dead weight taking an obvious toll on the peroxide vamp.
"Don't tell me she's too heavy for a big strong vampire like you," Buffy teased.
"What've they been feedin' 'er? She feels like a block o' lead." Noting Buffy's rolling eyes, he offered, "If you think you c'n do any better."
"Nah, you go ahead. Prove what a stud you are." She stepped toward the road that would eventually lead them to Giles' home. "It's cold out here, can't be good if she's in shock."
Unsure of the time, other that the fact that it was sometime after sunset but before sunrise, they made their way through Sunnydale with a surprising lack of interference. Coming up to Giles' front door, Buffy raised her hand to knock but was stopped short as the door swung open and Xander appeared on the threshold, his back to them as he continued speaking to Giles.
"Yeah, well, I'll be back tomorrow night. I don't think I can call in sick to work anymore anyway." Just before he turned to leave, he said, "You'll let me know if you find anything. I don't know, anything useful?"
"Yes, of course," Giles reassured him and chanced to look over the younger man's shoulder. "You might try turning around."
The rain had returned to California, drenching everything in its path, with the exception of the Scoobies' spirits. Anya's recovery had been a remarkable success and she had returned to her work at the Magic Box within a few weeks' time, ordering them all about as she worried over the pile of receipts Giles had neglected to incorporate into the store's log.
"Really, Giles," she commented as she added the figures a second time, just to be sure. "I was only gone a short time and look at the mess everything is in." She waved her arms dramatically at the forgotten receipts and dusty shelves. "I don't know how you would have managed if I hadn't come back."
Giles stopped short in his quest to locate a book a customer had phoned in a request for, his gaze falling on all those who worked to put the little shop back to rights. Xander caught his eye from his place among the shelves, feather duster in hand. He allowed himself to smile in silent amusement.
He studied Anya a moment before allowing himself to reply. The bruises and abrasions had faded and, after she'd slept for three solid days, her personality had begun to raise its oddly precise head. Time would be the only cure for her nightmares, not to mention Xander's presence. The young man had barely left her side from her sudden arrival in Spike's arms to the present.
"You're quite right, Anya. I don't think any of us would have been able to carry on for much longer."
