5. Accounts Payable
9 am. Willow Rosenberg had an errand to run that she wasn't looking forward to. Not in the least. But, it needed to be done.
She took a deep breath and pushed in the door to the Magic Box. As the bells over the door rang, she heard an unusually cheery voice. "Welcome to the Magic Box! Is there anything I can help you find that you'd like to spend a great deal of money on? Why just today we have a special on gold... oh." The voice became less cheery. "Did you want something, Willow?"
"Yes... um... I'm here to talk about the debt I owe you for trashing the Magic Box."
Anya walked over to her, stiffly. "Well, it's about time. Past time, even. High time for you to start taking responsibility for your actions. It's going to take you a long time to work off all the damage you did, and you can start right now."
Willow gulped and nodded. "I'm here to pay you for the damage."
Anya looked shocked. "Directly? You mean, you just think you're just going to give me money, instead of giving me years of hard sweatshop-like labor?"
Willow nodded. "Yup, that's the plan." She opened her purse.
"Are you joking? It's not funny. Do you know how much damage you did?" yelled Anya. "Those books alone were worth over a hundred thousand dollars. Throw in the destroyed magical supplies and damage to the Magic Box, and it must be almost three hundred thousand dollars!"
Willow appeared non-responsive to Anya's outburst, and continued rummaging through her purse. "That's about what I thought," she said, softly.
"What, do you just think you're going to write a check, and everything's going to be all hunky dory? Unless you robbed a bank recently, missy, I don't think so."
Willow calmly pulled a sealed envelope out of her purse.
"I think this should cover it, and then some." She handed the envelope to Anya. "Be very careful opening it."
Anya took the envelope. It rattled, feeling like it was filled with small pebbles. She sighed, carefully opened a corner of the envelope, and spilled a few of the contents on one of the remaining counters.
Then she gasped. Diamonds. Not little ones, either, but big ones, at least five carats in size, maybe more, all appearing perfectly flawless.
"You did!" she shouted. "Oh, my God. You did rob a bank!"
"I did not steal them, Anya."
"You did," continued Anya. "Okay, maybe not a bank. Maybe a jewelry store, or maybe you knocked over De Beers, and..."
"Anya, be quiet." Willow's eyes flashed black.
Anya gasped quietly. "Well, then missy, where did you get these?"
"I make them."
"You make diamonds? Oh, come on. The amount of heat and pressure you'd have to apply would be immense. No human could summon enough power to do it, only a really powerful demon... oh..."
"My therapists in England had me start making them. They help me burn off a lot of dark energy, and they teach me control. Each one takes hours to make. First I forge the crystal, then cut and polish it."
"Oh." Anya's capitalist desires suddenly cut back in. She eagerly began counting the diamonds.
"There should be over a half million dollars worth of diamonds in that envelope," said Willow. "I think that should be enough."
"Indeed. Paid in full!" said Anya, cheerily.
Willow watched her count for a few seconds. Than she opened her mouth to speak.
"Hey, Anya?" The vengeance demon looked up at her, slightly annoyed to be distracted from her counting her newfound wealth.
"How are things going, you know? Haven't had much of chance to talk to you, since... well, in a long time."
"Fine," she said. "Just fine. Especially now. I'll start out by reordering a new set of dark magic books, and from there, may be a new set of crystal display cases, and..."
"Oh, yeah, great about the Magic Box. But how else are things going? For example, how are things going between you and Xander?"
Anya stared at her for a second. Her eyes narrowed. "Well, I wouldn't know. I'm not the one who's been sleeping with him for the past two nights."
Willow coughed. "Anya... you don't think... okay, we've been in the same bed, but he's just been holding me, especially when I have nightmares. We aren't..."
"Oh, come on. You two must have been rolling around like rabid weasels. I always knew you'd end up together. I just knew it."
Willow shook her head. Anya looked surprised. "Anya... there's nothing between us. There hasn't been in years. There never really was, actually."
"Please. I know you love him."
Willow nodded. "That's true. I do love him. But the truth is that I love him like he's the brother I never had."
Anya looked skeptical. "Really? You love him like a brother? Right."
"Yeah, okay, I had a crush on him when I younger. But it was more expectations than anything else. I thought he would just naturally be who I would marry, have kids with, and live with in nice little bungalow with a white picket fence. Things change."
Anya looked a bit less skeptical.
"Besides, at this point - I'm still bisexual, but I'm really leaning more towards women at this point. Especially after Tara. And - what I have with Xander now is so special, that it would almost ruin it if I had sex with him. Seriously, Anya. You don't have to be jealous. I'm far more likely to make with the smoochies with Buffy than with Xander." She smiled.
Anya seemed relieved, and decided to bolster her relief. "Yes. Of course! Buffy got us to England by casting a vengeance wish on you. How could I have forgotten? That means something," she said brightly.
Willow tensed. She nodded, and her eyes blackened slightly. "I know. I really don't want to think about that right now. I... just can't handle that, what it might mean, with everything else going on."
Anya realized it was time to change the subject. "Right. Well, anyway, things haven't changed much between Xander and myself, other than that I'm accepting the fact that maybe I don't want his heart to explode or his intestines to rot."
Willow made a tentative smile. "That's progress."
"Progress? Progress would be for him to get down on his knees, beg for forgiveness, and pack me off to Vegas to marry me in a Quickie Wed with a Velvet Elvis as preacher. That would be progress."
Willow's eyes narrowed. "Which he hasn't done."
"Him? Hah! He's still making mooney-eyed faces at me. A few times he's even asked me out on a coffee date. A coffee date! Willow, we spent years sleeping together, I committed to spending my life with him, and he wants to pretend like it never happened and start again from nothing. I can't do that, Willow."
Willow nods. "No. You're right. You don't deserve that."
"Darn tooting, I don't."
"You do know why he didn't marry you, right?"
Anya nods. "Yeah, and if I really think about it, I know he thinks he's doing it for me. He thinks that no matter what, he's destined to turn into a total loser like his father, and at some point lose control and beat me to death with a saucepan in his lower-class loser frustration."
"I know," said Willow. "I don't understand. He'd never really do that."
Anya laughs. "Darn tooting. First of all, there's no way he can beat a vengeance demon to death with a saucepan of all things. Geez."
"Yeah. I'd hoped he'd started to get some self-confidence. You know, savior of the world, and all that."
Anya nodded. "Oh, he's told us the story over and over. If I hear 'yellow crayon' one more time..."
"It was blue," said Willow.
Anya snickered. "Well, whatever color, I'm going to cram a Crayola jumbo box up his derriere."
Willow smiled.
Anya sighed. "He just talks about it constantly to hide his insecurities."
Willow nodded. "You're right about that. I'll try to see what I can do. It will take time, though."
Anya nodded. "So how have you been, Miss back from the brink?"
Willow sighed. "Better than might be expected, I suppose."
Anya raised an eyebrow. "Appropriately sorry for your actions?"
"Absolutely. I had to pass written, oral, and thought-probe exams to demonstrate that I was appropriately remorseful. I've become the sorry- ness champion. Totally."
Anya grinned. "So you're really sorry that you skinned and burned Warren and killed Rack, then?"
Willow gasped.
"Really? Tell me the truth."
Willow furtively looked around the room. Then she whispered, "I feel really terrible about it. I feel so much guilt that no matter what I do, I can't feel remorse for those two murders, other than feeling bad that it wasn't my place to kill and torture them, which isn't that much. No matter how hard I try."
Anya laughed. "Well. You really are the sorry-ness champion, then. If you had said you felt really remorseful for Warren and Rack, I would have known you were lying."
Willow looked down and bit her lip. "The rest of it, though... I tried to kill all my friends... I tried to end the world, Anya. I know it wasn't technically my fault, that I was poisoned, but even so... hard to look in the mirror after that."
Anya looked at the witch softly. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Unrestricted vengeance. Not what it's cracked up to be."
Willow looked at her. "What do you mean? Aren't you back to being the underworld's number-one ranked vengeance demon?"
Anya sighed. It was her turn to look around the Magic Box furtively. "No. I... well, honestly, Willow, I hate it. I'm tired of wreaking havoc on people who don't really deserve it. Yes, they've been slime. But only sometimes. And some of these women who call on me - God, Willow. I mean, if they want the source of their pain, they should try looking in a mirror some time. And what they want me to do - I try to limit it if I can. Like this one woman wished that the guy who dumped her was a frog - I made him French. Other times, I suddenly feign deafness. For the past few weeks I've just turned my cell phone off altogether, and taken off my talisman. I've been pretending to be sick, but I can only keep it up a little longer. I dread what will happen when I have to put it back on, and face D'Hoffryn."
Willow nods.
"I mean - I spent a thousand years thinking what I was doing was justice. But I just don't think it is anymore." She pulled Willow close and whispered in her ear. "I think that D'Hoffryn and his inner circle secretly worships evil, and they've just been using me as their tool."
Willow nods. "Yeah," she says softly, "I think that's right. Is there anyway you can get out of it?"
Anya nods. "I hope so. Most of the vengeance demons don't want anything to do with me anymore, but I still have a few friends. I've heard that D'Hoffryn has been asked about, uh, possibly transferring a demon or two to other masters. If that definitely happens, I'll beg him to let me be the one who is transferred, and I'm hoping he'll say yes rather than kill me. Hopefully, he will, even though I know he is completely disappointed and fed up with me, right now."
Willow nods. "You think he'll do that? Transfer you?"
"Yes. There's a very good chance he'll do that. Word is that a Noble House demon wants a new messenger, and wants D'Hoffryn to provide her with one."
Willow was taken aback. "Noble House?" she gasped.
"Oh, so you know about them, do you? Yeah, if it's a Noble House demon it's an offer D'Hoffryn won't be able to refuse. If he says yes, he gets a ton of money or dimensional real estate or new powers or whatever the Big One is offering. He'll also get rid of a big headache if he gives up me. If he says no, well... he won't say no." Anya shuddered.
"Sounds scary. Are you sure you'd rather do that?"
"Yup. I'd much rather be a messenger girl than a rip-out-peoples'-hearts girl. And I don't have another choice. I can't just quit - D'Hoffryn would kill me. Besides, sometimes messenger vassals even get to handle money! Wouldn't that be great?"
"Well, then. Good luck. Let me know if there's anything I can do."
Anya seemed surprisingly excited about Willow's remark. "Would you? In a few weeks, if I ask you, could you summon D'Hoffryn and tell him that I'd make a really great messenger girl for the Big One? He really likes you, you know. He was very impressed with your skinning and burning of Warren. Has an artistic rendering on his wall, apparently."
Willow gasped. "But... but, I don't want to be a vengeance demon..."
"Oh, don't worry about that. He knows you don't, but he still hopes that one day you'll change your mind. That should make him very friendly towards you, so he might actually listen."
Willow took in a gulp of air, and nodded. "Well, then. Sure, why not?"
"Thank you," said Anya.
For a few seconds, Willow and Anya said nothing. Then, Willow looked down, and began to speak, but quickly closed her mouth.
"What did you say?" asked Anya.
"Well, uh... it's really nothing, but maybe you might have an idea as a centuries-old vengeance demon, and ..."
"Spit it out," said Anya.
"Uh... do you have any idea who my real parents are?"
Anya gasped quietly. "No, not exactly - nothing specific anyway."
Willow looked up. "What do you know that isn't specific, Anya?"
"I'm not sure how much I can tell you - things could be very dangerous..."
"Please, Anya?"
"Well, okay." She pulled Willow closer and began to whisper. "I don't know specifically who your natural parents are. But, I do know that some of the more powerful 'pure-line' demons routinely transform their newborn children into less powerful demons or humans. It's done both to hide the child from the demons' enemies and because the more powerful races of demons take centuries to mature on their own. I mean, a twenty-year old hydra is still practically an infant."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"Right. Well, suppose I transformed infant you from a hydra into a human. I hide you with an all-American patriotic capitalist family, who raises you. In twenty to thirty years time, you mature physically and mentally, which is the really important thing. Then, when you're all grown up, I come find you, tell you who you really are, turn you back into a hydra, and poof! You're an already-grown hydra, able to protect herself and ready to fulfill her clan duties."
Willow gasped and slumped forward slightly. "Wow. This is a lot to take in. But there's still some stuff I don't understand. Isn't it risky for the transformed child? What if the child is discovered? And wouldn't the adjustment be really hard? I mean, if someone walked up to me and said, 'hi there, I'm your real mom and I'm a big scaly hydra and so are you,' I'd freak. Well, I wouldn't so much, because, you know, but you know what I mean. Right?"
Anya nodded. "It is risky, and it is very difficult on the child. But it's a lot better than the alternatives. The magical dimensions are usually either hell dimensions in the worst sense of the word, or feudal societies with lots of fighting warlords. Think Japan in the warring states period. Now that was a great time for vengeance. Why, I did some of my best work during that time. Like one time (chuckle), I..."
Willow frowned.
"Right. Well, anyway, a feudal society is really dangerous for a demon baby. Especially one that takes twenty years to say its first word, and three hundred years to mature."
"Oh," said Willow. She nodded. "I... I really need to let this sink in. But Anya, do you have anything more specific? Like, even what kind of demon I am?"
Willow rolled up her shirtsleeve, and rubbed her hand along her now exposed arm. A row of neat emerald scales appeared on the back of her arm, softly glinting under the Magic Box's incandescent lights. "Do you recognize these?"
Anya carefully looked at the scales, and traced them. She noted the intricate beveling on the edges of the scales. A flash of recognition appeared on her face, which she quickly suppressed.
"Do you recognize something?" asked Willow.
"No. Thought I did for a second, but no. Those are definitely scales from one of the more powerful races of demons, but you knew that already. Within those races, these scales are quite common, I'm afraid. You could be a balron, a hydra, or a dragon, for example."
"Oh. That's too bad." Willow made an effort to look disappointed. Her mind carefully noted that Anya was hiding something. "I have to go now. Thanks, Anya."
"Thank you for the diamonds," said Anya, cheerily. "And for everything. Bye!"
Willow quietly walked out of the Magic Box, in something of a slight daze. The door softly closed behind her. The second she heard the door click, Anya gave a sigh of relief.
* * *
Anyanka:
That was close. She can't know the truth. How can she? There are so few possibilities for her clan, and there's so much going on with them, and she'd attract so much attention, that she'd be lost forever within hours of finding out.
After all, there are only five small Noble House clans. Five warring clans.
Hard to believe that Willow Rosenberg, of all people, is a Noble House demon. Then again, if I don't let the mousy face she puts on get in the way, the girl is a total fireball. I still have a few scars to prove it. And of course, all this lovely glittering wealth. It's not that much of a stretch, come to think of it.
Still though, what a story! Too bad I can't tell anyone, though, or I might end up burned and eaten alive over a thousand years of unbearable torment. D'Hoffryn would be thrilled to know that his hot new prospect is a Noble House demon - he'd have dreams of smashing vengeance records for months. And Halfrek would just die with excitement. She'd just have to tell all her friends, and some of her non-friends. She always was such a little gossip.
Wait a minute, wait a minute, gossip... that rings a bell...
Yes! I remember now. Two decades ago, when a wildly giddy Halfrek burst into my quarters, just having to tell me a really juicy tidbit. "News of the century," Halfrek gushed. "You'll never believe who just gave birth to a daughter!"
That means Willow could be the daughter of...
The realization almost drops me to the floor. I have to grab the counter to steady myself.
No. That can't be right. She's famous for keeping all of her affairs tightly controlled. And Halfrek had gushed that "the Ice Queen totally melted over her new baby girl." She couldn't possibly have let her daughter be sent to Sunnydale. Not on top of the most dangerous hellmouth in this dimension. It would be insane.
But then... the last time I managed to talk to her, Halfrek said the Big One wanting a new vassal was asking about a "vengeance demon who was tired of vengeance, and who was good at finances and management." Halfrek said the demon described me exactly - it was uncanny. Could the Ice Queen, of all demons, be the one looking for a new vassal? Does she know that I know Willow? Is she getting ready to reclaim Willow using me as a contact?
My mind reels with the possibilities. But, I soon push them away. I just have to wait. After all, I can't just call up a Noble House demon.
Besides, I have half a million in diamonds to count and somehow trade. Good thing most of my dealers operate under a "don't ask, don't tell" policy when it comes to how they get paid. So, then, where should I put the new crystal cabinets?
* * *
Next: "What I Did For Love"
9 am. Willow Rosenberg had an errand to run that she wasn't looking forward to. Not in the least. But, it needed to be done.
She took a deep breath and pushed in the door to the Magic Box. As the bells over the door rang, she heard an unusually cheery voice. "Welcome to the Magic Box! Is there anything I can help you find that you'd like to spend a great deal of money on? Why just today we have a special on gold... oh." The voice became less cheery. "Did you want something, Willow?"
"Yes... um... I'm here to talk about the debt I owe you for trashing the Magic Box."
Anya walked over to her, stiffly. "Well, it's about time. Past time, even. High time for you to start taking responsibility for your actions. It's going to take you a long time to work off all the damage you did, and you can start right now."
Willow gulped and nodded. "I'm here to pay you for the damage."
Anya looked shocked. "Directly? You mean, you just think you're just going to give me money, instead of giving me years of hard sweatshop-like labor?"
Willow nodded. "Yup, that's the plan." She opened her purse.
"Are you joking? It's not funny. Do you know how much damage you did?" yelled Anya. "Those books alone were worth over a hundred thousand dollars. Throw in the destroyed magical supplies and damage to the Magic Box, and it must be almost three hundred thousand dollars!"
Willow appeared non-responsive to Anya's outburst, and continued rummaging through her purse. "That's about what I thought," she said, softly.
"What, do you just think you're going to write a check, and everything's going to be all hunky dory? Unless you robbed a bank recently, missy, I don't think so."
Willow calmly pulled a sealed envelope out of her purse.
"I think this should cover it, and then some." She handed the envelope to Anya. "Be very careful opening it."
Anya took the envelope. It rattled, feeling like it was filled with small pebbles. She sighed, carefully opened a corner of the envelope, and spilled a few of the contents on one of the remaining counters.
Then she gasped. Diamonds. Not little ones, either, but big ones, at least five carats in size, maybe more, all appearing perfectly flawless.
"You did!" she shouted. "Oh, my God. You did rob a bank!"
"I did not steal them, Anya."
"You did," continued Anya. "Okay, maybe not a bank. Maybe a jewelry store, or maybe you knocked over De Beers, and..."
"Anya, be quiet." Willow's eyes flashed black.
Anya gasped quietly. "Well, then missy, where did you get these?"
"I make them."
"You make diamonds? Oh, come on. The amount of heat and pressure you'd have to apply would be immense. No human could summon enough power to do it, only a really powerful demon... oh..."
"My therapists in England had me start making them. They help me burn off a lot of dark energy, and they teach me control. Each one takes hours to make. First I forge the crystal, then cut and polish it."
"Oh." Anya's capitalist desires suddenly cut back in. She eagerly began counting the diamonds.
"There should be over a half million dollars worth of diamonds in that envelope," said Willow. "I think that should be enough."
"Indeed. Paid in full!" said Anya, cheerily.
Willow watched her count for a few seconds. Than she opened her mouth to speak.
"Hey, Anya?" The vengeance demon looked up at her, slightly annoyed to be distracted from her counting her newfound wealth.
"How are things going, you know? Haven't had much of chance to talk to you, since... well, in a long time."
"Fine," she said. "Just fine. Especially now. I'll start out by reordering a new set of dark magic books, and from there, may be a new set of crystal display cases, and..."
"Oh, yeah, great about the Magic Box. But how else are things going? For example, how are things going between you and Xander?"
Anya stared at her for a second. Her eyes narrowed. "Well, I wouldn't know. I'm not the one who's been sleeping with him for the past two nights."
Willow coughed. "Anya... you don't think... okay, we've been in the same bed, but he's just been holding me, especially when I have nightmares. We aren't..."
"Oh, come on. You two must have been rolling around like rabid weasels. I always knew you'd end up together. I just knew it."
Willow shook her head. Anya looked surprised. "Anya... there's nothing between us. There hasn't been in years. There never really was, actually."
"Please. I know you love him."
Willow nodded. "That's true. I do love him. But the truth is that I love him like he's the brother I never had."
Anya looked skeptical. "Really? You love him like a brother? Right."
"Yeah, okay, I had a crush on him when I younger. But it was more expectations than anything else. I thought he would just naturally be who I would marry, have kids with, and live with in nice little bungalow with a white picket fence. Things change."
Anya looked a bit less skeptical.
"Besides, at this point - I'm still bisexual, but I'm really leaning more towards women at this point. Especially after Tara. And - what I have with Xander now is so special, that it would almost ruin it if I had sex with him. Seriously, Anya. You don't have to be jealous. I'm far more likely to make with the smoochies with Buffy than with Xander." She smiled.
Anya seemed relieved, and decided to bolster her relief. "Yes. Of course! Buffy got us to England by casting a vengeance wish on you. How could I have forgotten? That means something," she said brightly.
Willow tensed. She nodded, and her eyes blackened slightly. "I know. I really don't want to think about that right now. I... just can't handle that, what it might mean, with everything else going on."
Anya realized it was time to change the subject. "Right. Well, anyway, things haven't changed much between Xander and myself, other than that I'm accepting the fact that maybe I don't want his heart to explode or his intestines to rot."
Willow made a tentative smile. "That's progress."
"Progress? Progress would be for him to get down on his knees, beg for forgiveness, and pack me off to Vegas to marry me in a Quickie Wed with a Velvet Elvis as preacher. That would be progress."
Willow's eyes narrowed. "Which he hasn't done."
"Him? Hah! He's still making mooney-eyed faces at me. A few times he's even asked me out on a coffee date. A coffee date! Willow, we spent years sleeping together, I committed to spending my life with him, and he wants to pretend like it never happened and start again from nothing. I can't do that, Willow."
Willow nods. "No. You're right. You don't deserve that."
"Darn tooting, I don't."
"You do know why he didn't marry you, right?"
Anya nods. "Yeah, and if I really think about it, I know he thinks he's doing it for me. He thinks that no matter what, he's destined to turn into a total loser like his father, and at some point lose control and beat me to death with a saucepan in his lower-class loser frustration."
"I know," said Willow. "I don't understand. He'd never really do that."
Anya laughs. "Darn tooting. First of all, there's no way he can beat a vengeance demon to death with a saucepan of all things. Geez."
"Yeah. I'd hoped he'd started to get some self-confidence. You know, savior of the world, and all that."
Anya nodded. "Oh, he's told us the story over and over. If I hear 'yellow crayon' one more time..."
"It was blue," said Willow.
Anya snickered. "Well, whatever color, I'm going to cram a Crayola jumbo box up his derriere."
Willow smiled.
Anya sighed. "He just talks about it constantly to hide his insecurities."
Willow nodded. "You're right about that. I'll try to see what I can do. It will take time, though."
Anya nodded. "So how have you been, Miss back from the brink?"
Willow sighed. "Better than might be expected, I suppose."
Anya raised an eyebrow. "Appropriately sorry for your actions?"
"Absolutely. I had to pass written, oral, and thought-probe exams to demonstrate that I was appropriately remorseful. I've become the sorry- ness champion. Totally."
Anya grinned. "So you're really sorry that you skinned and burned Warren and killed Rack, then?"
Willow gasped.
"Really? Tell me the truth."
Willow furtively looked around the room. Then she whispered, "I feel really terrible about it. I feel so much guilt that no matter what I do, I can't feel remorse for those two murders, other than feeling bad that it wasn't my place to kill and torture them, which isn't that much. No matter how hard I try."
Anya laughed. "Well. You really are the sorry-ness champion, then. If you had said you felt really remorseful for Warren and Rack, I would have known you were lying."
Willow looked down and bit her lip. "The rest of it, though... I tried to kill all my friends... I tried to end the world, Anya. I know it wasn't technically my fault, that I was poisoned, but even so... hard to look in the mirror after that."
Anya looked at the witch softly. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Unrestricted vengeance. Not what it's cracked up to be."
Willow looked at her. "What do you mean? Aren't you back to being the underworld's number-one ranked vengeance demon?"
Anya sighed. It was her turn to look around the Magic Box furtively. "No. I... well, honestly, Willow, I hate it. I'm tired of wreaking havoc on people who don't really deserve it. Yes, they've been slime. But only sometimes. And some of these women who call on me - God, Willow. I mean, if they want the source of their pain, they should try looking in a mirror some time. And what they want me to do - I try to limit it if I can. Like this one woman wished that the guy who dumped her was a frog - I made him French. Other times, I suddenly feign deafness. For the past few weeks I've just turned my cell phone off altogether, and taken off my talisman. I've been pretending to be sick, but I can only keep it up a little longer. I dread what will happen when I have to put it back on, and face D'Hoffryn."
Willow nods.
"I mean - I spent a thousand years thinking what I was doing was justice. But I just don't think it is anymore." She pulled Willow close and whispered in her ear. "I think that D'Hoffryn and his inner circle secretly worships evil, and they've just been using me as their tool."
Willow nods. "Yeah," she says softly, "I think that's right. Is there anyway you can get out of it?"
Anya nods. "I hope so. Most of the vengeance demons don't want anything to do with me anymore, but I still have a few friends. I've heard that D'Hoffryn has been asked about, uh, possibly transferring a demon or two to other masters. If that definitely happens, I'll beg him to let me be the one who is transferred, and I'm hoping he'll say yes rather than kill me. Hopefully, he will, even though I know he is completely disappointed and fed up with me, right now."
Willow nods. "You think he'll do that? Transfer you?"
"Yes. There's a very good chance he'll do that. Word is that a Noble House demon wants a new messenger, and wants D'Hoffryn to provide her with one."
Willow was taken aback. "Noble House?" she gasped.
"Oh, so you know about them, do you? Yeah, if it's a Noble House demon it's an offer D'Hoffryn won't be able to refuse. If he says yes, he gets a ton of money or dimensional real estate or new powers or whatever the Big One is offering. He'll also get rid of a big headache if he gives up me. If he says no, well... he won't say no." Anya shuddered.
"Sounds scary. Are you sure you'd rather do that?"
"Yup. I'd much rather be a messenger girl than a rip-out-peoples'-hearts girl. And I don't have another choice. I can't just quit - D'Hoffryn would kill me. Besides, sometimes messenger vassals even get to handle money! Wouldn't that be great?"
"Well, then. Good luck. Let me know if there's anything I can do."
Anya seemed surprisingly excited about Willow's remark. "Would you? In a few weeks, if I ask you, could you summon D'Hoffryn and tell him that I'd make a really great messenger girl for the Big One? He really likes you, you know. He was very impressed with your skinning and burning of Warren. Has an artistic rendering on his wall, apparently."
Willow gasped. "But... but, I don't want to be a vengeance demon..."
"Oh, don't worry about that. He knows you don't, but he still hopes that one day you'll change your mind. That should make him very friendly towards you, so he might actually listen."
Willow took in a gulp of air, and nodded. "Well, then. Sure, why not?"
"Thank you," said Anya.
For a few seconds, Willow and Anya said nothing. Then, Willow looked down, and began to speak, but quickly closed her mouth.
"What did you say?" asked Anya.
"Well, uh... it's really nothing, but maybe you might have an idea as a centuries-old vengeance demon, and ..."
"Spit it out," said Anya.
"Uh... do you have any idea who my real parents are?"
Anya gasped quietly. "No, not exactly - nothing specific anyway."
Willow looked up. "What do you know that isn't specific, Anya?"
"I'm not sure how much I can tell you - things could be very dangerous..."
"Please, Anya?"
"Well, okay." She pulled Willow closer and began to whisper. "I don't know specifically who your natural parents are. But, I do know that some of the more powerful 'pure-line' demons routinely transform their newborn children into less powerful demons or humans. It's done both to hide the child from the demons' enemies and because the more powerful races of demons take centuries to mature on their own. I mean, a twenty-year old hydra is still practically an infant."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"Right. Well, suppose I transformed infant you from a hydra into a human. I hide you with an all-American patriotic capitalist family, who raises you. In twenty to thirty years time, you mature physically and mentally, which is the really important thing. Then, when you're all grown up, I come find you, tell you who you really are, turn you back into a hydra, and poof! You're an already-grown hydra, able to protect herself and ready to fulfill her clan duties."
Willow gasped and slumped forward slightly. "Wow. This is a lot to take in. But there's still some stuff I don't understand. Isn't it risky for the transformed child? What if the child is discovered? And wouldn't the adjustment be really hard? I mean, if someone walked up to me and said, 'hi there, I'm your real mom and I'm a big scaly hydra and so are you,' I'd freak. Well, I wouldn't so much, because, you know, but you know what I mean. Right?"
Anya nodded. "It is risky, and it is very difficult on the child. But it's a lot better than the alternatives. The magical dimensions are usually either hell dimensions in the worst sense of the word, or feudal societies with lots of fighting warlords. Think Japan in the warring states period. Now that was a great time for vengeance. Why, I did some of my best work during that time. Like one time (chuckle), I..."
Willow frowned.
"Right. Well, anyway, a feudal society is really dangerous for a demon baby. Especially one that takes twenty years to say its first word, and three hundred years to mature."
"Oh," said Willow. She nodded. "I... I really need to let this sink in. But Anya, do you have anything more specific? Like, even what kind of demon I am?"
Willow rolled up her shirtsleeve, and rubbed her hand along her now exposed arm. A row of neat emerald scales appeared on the back of her arm, softly glinting under the Magic Box's incandescent lights. "Do you recognize these?"
Anya carefully looked at the scales, and traced them. She noted the intricate beveling on the edges of the scales. A flash of recognition appeared on her face, which she quickly suppressed.
"Do you recognize something?" asked Willow.
"No. Thought I did for a second, but no. Those are definitely scales from one of the more powerful races of demons, but you knew that already. Within those races, these scales are quite common, I'm afraid. You could be a balron, a hydra, or a dragon, for example."
"Oh. That's too bad." Willow made an effort to look disappointed. Her mind carefully noted that Anya was hiding something. "I have to go now. Thanks, Anya."
"Thank you for the diamonds," said Anya, cheerily. "And for everything. Bye!"
Willow quietly walked out of the Magic Box, in something of a slight daze. The door softly closed behind her. The second she heard the door click, Anya gave a sigh of relief.
* * *
Anyanka:
That was close. She can't know the truth. How can she? There are so few possibilities for her clan, and there's so much going on with them, and she'd attract so much attention, that she'd be lost forever within hours of finding out.
After all, there are only five small Noble House clans. Five warring clans.
Hard to believe that Willow Rosenberg, of all people, is a Noble House demon. Then again, if I don't let the mousy face she puts on get in the way, the girl is a total fireball. I still have a few scars to prove it. And of course, all this lovely glittering wealth. It's not that much of a stretch, come to think of it.
Still though, what a story! Too bad I can't tell anyone, though, or I might end up burned and eaten alive over a thousand years of unbearable torment. D'Hoffryn would be thrilled to know that his hot new prospect is a Noble House demon - he'd have dreams of smashing vengeance records for months. And Halfrek would just die with excitement. She'd just have to tell all her friends, and some of her non-friends. She always was such a little gossip.
Wait a minute, wait a minute, gossip... that rings a bell...
Yes! I remember now. Two decades ago, when a wildly giddy Halfrek burst into my quarters, just having to tell me a really juicy tidbit. "News of the century," Halfrek gushed. "You'll never believe who just gave birth to a daughter!"
That means Willow could be the daughter of...
The realization almost drops me to the floor. I have to grab the counter to steady myself.
No. That can't be right. She's famous for keeping all of her affairs tightly controlled. And Halfrek had gushed that "the Ice Queen totally melted over her new baby girl." She couldn't possibly have let her daughter be sent to Sunnydale. Not on top of the most dangerous hellmouth in this dimension. It would be insane.
But then... the last time I managed to talk to her, Halfrek said the Big One wanting a new vassal was asking about a "vengeance demon who was tired of vengeance, and who was good at finances and management." Halfrek said the demon described me exactly - it was uncanny. Could the Ice Queen, of all demons, be the one looking for a new vassal? Does she know that I know Willow? Is she getting ready to reclaim Willow using me as a contact?
My mind reels with the possibilities. But, I soon push them away. I just have to wait. After all, I can't just call up a Noble House demon.
Besides, I have half a million in diamonds to count and somehow trade. Good thing most of my dealers operate under a "don't ask, don't tell" policy when it comes to how they get paid. So, then, where should I put the new crystal cabinets?
* * *
Next: "What I Did For Love"