Willow was leaning against the wall in the kitchen. Picking up Andrea's
side of the telephone call was a complete accident.
"I know. Sorry, I was busy." Who is she talking to? "I mailed it on Friday. I'll be there soon, I swear. James, your exaggerating." Who's James? "No, please. Not Ben. Leave him alone. You'll get your stuff." Andrea sounded panicked.
Willow hurried away from the door frame as she returned. Andrea pulled a ten dollar bill out of her back pocket and handed it to Buffy. "Thanks." Willow frowned. How could Andrea act so normal, cheerful even, when this Ben guy was in danger? "I've gotta get going. Errands to run. Maybe I'll drop by later at the Magic Box." Buffy nodded and Andrea left the house.
* * *
"So this suitcase has one hundred thousand dollars in it," Giles summarized, wiping his glasses. "Where is it now?"
"At home," answered Buffy, tiredly propping her chin on her hand at the Magic Box's table.
"And there was no name?" Xander was clearly confused.
"Just the letters ADS."
"I wonder who would give you all that cash," Anya said breathlessly. "Can I have some?"
"You lot are bloody dense," groaned Spike, running his fingers through his hair. "It was Andrea."
"What makes you say that?" asked Willow, wondering if Spike new anything she didn't.
"The woman is loaded. Maybe it hasn't struck you as a little queer that she's 21, lives in her own house and owns an expensive car, but I think it's worth noting."
"Nobody cares what you think, Spike," Xander grunted.
"He's got a point," Giles said.
"When I was walking her home the other night, she said she'd like to help with Betty's cash flow difficulties," Spike added, deliberately screwing up Buffy's name. Her jaw tensed, but she said nothing.
"Do you think Andrea's into something illegal?" Willow asked hesitantly. Buffy gazed uneasily at her friend.
"Like what?"
"I dunno. It's just that . . . Before, at your house, when she made that call, I overheard her side of the conversation. It didn't give me the greatest impression."
Buffy and Giles both looked very concerned, as if Willow might be harmed for knowing this. Spike, however, looked almost. . .upset to be hearing this. Xander stared at him, clearly confused by Spike's reaction. Spike usually thought situations like this were terribly amusing.
"Why not? What did she say?" Xander asked, still looking at Spike.
"She said something about having sent this guy what he wanted. I think his name was James. Said that he shouldn't worry, that it would be there soon. And then she sounded really upset, like scared. She seemed really concerned that James might hurt someone named Ben."
"So basically, you think she was talking to a loan shark," Anya concluded, seeming excited by the concept.
"Yes. That's what it sounded like to me," Willow admitted uncomfortably. "But after she left, I got the number of the call she made."
"We could call it and find out who she called," Buffy suggested. Giles sighed.
"Use the phone over there." Buffy got the number from Willow, then punched it on the phone by the glass counter. After a few rings, the phone was answered by a woman with a voice that achieved a pitch that would normally have been helium-induced.
"Sheene Publishing."
* * *
Andrea disconnected the call to her older brother, Ben, still smiling. She missed him. Maybe he'd come visit her soon. She set down in the swivel chair of her home office, that should have been a guest bedroom, at her laptop and loaded her latest work. Sighing, she took a Nicorette out of her pocket and popped it into her mouth, holding a pen between the index and middle fingers of her right hand, like a cigarette. Old habits die hard. At least this was healthier than outright smoking while she was working, like she used to.
Once she got the flow started, the ideas kept coming and she pounded furiously on the keyboard, weaving a story so complex, characters so realistic, that if it weren't for the fact that she'd created them last night, she might have believed they were real. An hour, maybe two, into her writing, her telephone rang. She tried to ignore it, but the interruption had disturbed the creative flow and she answered. "This better be good," she snapped into the receiver, assuming it was Ben, whom she had told specifically not to call.
"Forget to take your Midol, pet?" answered Spike, sounding amused by her testiness. She pushed her bangs away from her eyes in frustration. Her tone softened considerably.
"I'm sorry, Spike. I was just in the middle of something when the phone rang."
"Anybody I know?" he joked.
"If it were, I wouldn't tell you," she said, unfazed by the innuendo. She'd heard much worse than Spike's inquiry glowing up with Ben. Spike sighed audibly.
"Damn. Can't blame me for trying. Love a good gossip every once and a while," he feigned disappointment.
"I'm sure," she said sarcastically. "Was there a reason you called?"
"Get right to the point, don't you, love? I'm over at Buffy's and her the witch want to go to the Bronze. Wanted to see if you'd tag along?"
"What are you doing?"
"Figured I'd go with. Check out the back playing." He paused. "Does it make a difference?" he whispered suggestively.
"No," Andrea said defensively. She heard a sexy chuckle from the other side of the line. She groaned. "Tell Buffy I'll be there in a few."
"I know. Sorry, I was busy." Who is she talking to? "I mailed it on Friday. I'll be there soon, I swear. James, your exaggerating." Who's James? "No, please. Not Ben. Leave him alone. You'll get your stuff." Andrea sounded panicked.
Willow hurried away from the door frame as she returned. Andrea pulled a ten dollar bill out of her back pocket and handed it to Buffy. "Thanks." Willow frowned. How could Andrea act so normal, cheerful even, when this Ben guy was in danger? "I've gotta get going. Errands to run. Maybe I'll drop by later at the Magic Box." Buffy nodded and Andrea left the house.
* * *
"So this suitcase has one hundred thousand dollars in it," Giles summarized, wiping his glasses. "Where is it now?"
"At home," answered Buffy, tiredly propping her chin on her hand at the Magic Box's table.
"And there was no name?" Xander was clearly confused.
"Just the letters ADS."
"I wonder who would give you all that cash," Anya said breathlessly. "Can I have some?"
"You lot are bloody dense," groaned Spike, running his fingers through his hair. "It was Andrea."
"What makes you say that?" asked Willow, wondering if Spike new anything she didn't.
"The woman is loaded. Maybe it hasn't struck you as a little queer that she's 21, lives in her own house and owns an expensive car, but I think it's worth noting."
"Nobody cares what you think, Spike," Xander grunted.
"He's got a point," Giles said.
"When I was walking her home the other night, she said she'd like to help with Betty's cash flow difficulties," Spike added, deliberately screwing up Buffy's name. Her jaw tensed, but she said nothing.
"Do you think Andrea's into something illegal?" Willow asked hesitantly. Buffy gazed uneasily at her friend.
"Like what?"
"I dunno. It's just that . . . Before, at your house, when she made that call, I overheard her side of the conversation. It didn't give me the greatest impression."
Buffy and Giles both looked very concerned, as if Willow might be harmed for knowing this. Spike, however, looked almost. . .upset to be hearing this. Xander stared at him, clearly confused by Spike's reaction. Spike usually thought situations like this were terribly amusing.
"Why not? What did she say?" Xander asked, still looking at Spike.
"She said something about having sent this guy what he wanted. I think his name was James. Said that he shouldn't worry, that it would be there soon. And then she sounded really upset, like scared. She seemed really concerned that James might hurt someone named Ben."
"So basically, you think she was talking to a loan shark," Anya concluded, seeming excited by the concept.
"Yes. That's what it sounded like to me," Willow admitted uncomfortably. "But after she left, I got the number of the call she made."
"We could call it and find out who she called," Buffy suggested. Giles sighed.
"Use the phone over there." Buffy got the number from Willow, then punched it on the phone by the glass counter. After a few rings, the phone was answered by a woman with a voice that achieved a pitch that would normally have been helium-induced.
"Sheene Publishing."
* * *
Andrea disconnected the call to her older brother, Ben, still smiling. She missed him. Maybe he'd come visit her soon. She set down in the swivel chair of her home office, that should have been a guest bedroom, at her laptop and loaded her latest work. Sighing, she took a Nicorette out of her pocket and popped it into her mouth, holding a pen between the index and middle fingers of her right hand, like a cigarette. Old habits die hard. At least this was healthier than outright smoking while she was working, like she used to.
Once she got the flow started, the ideas kept coming and she pounded furiously on the keyboard, weaving a story so complex, characters so realistic, that if it weren't for the fact that she'd created them last night, she might have believed they were real. An hour, maybe two, into her writing, her telephone rang. She tried to ignore it, but the interruption had disturbed the creative flow and she answered. "This better be good," she snapped into the receiver, assuming it was Ben, whom she had told specifically not to call.
"Forget to take your Midol, pet?" answered Spike, sounding amused by her testiness. She pushed her bangs away from her eyes in frustration. Her tone softened considerably.
"I'm sorry, Spike. I was just in the middle of something when the phone rang."
"Anybody I know?" he joked.
"If it were, I wouldn't tell you," she said, unfazed by the innuendo. She'd heard much worse than Spike's inquiry glowing up with Ben. Spike sighed audibly.
"Damn. Can't blame me for trying. Love a good gossip every once and a while," he feigned disappointment.
"I'm sure," she said sarcastically. "Was there a reason you called?"
"Get right to the point, don't you, love? I'm over at Buffy's and her the witch want to go to the Bronze. Wanted to see if you'd tag along?"
"What are you doing?"
"Figured I'd go with. Check out the back playing." He paused. "Does it make a difference?" he whispered suggestively.
"No," Andrea said defensively. She heard a sexy chuckle from the other side of the line. She groaned. "Tell Buffy I'll be there in a few."