With grace born of years of vampire slayage, Xander weaved untouched among the other dancers and reached Anya at the edge of the dance floor. Her face was pinched up in a scowl.
"An…"
"You were dancing. With a girl."
"An, listen …"
"You told me wanted a relationship with me again. You said those words. I remember. We were in that awful Italian restaurant that you like, and …"
"An, let me … you don't like Rocco's?"
"Oh please, Xander. Their spaghetti is always limp and those lumps of cow are clearly not made from government-approved meat products. When I want Italian food, I mean expensive food with candles on the table and … Hey! You were trying to distract me, but I'm not changing the subject so easily, mister. How can you say that and then dance with that tramp!" She was shouting by the end, and other people had begun to notice. Xander threw an arm around her and half-steered, half-dragged her into a darker corner.
"Anya, listen to me. Her name is Jess. You know Willow's boyfriend? Grey? That's his ex-fiancee."
"The evil sorceress who tried to slaughter you all while I was vacationing in Miami?"
"Well, yeah. Kind of. Except she isn't evil anymore."
"Oh. Are you sure?"
"Huh? Yes, we're … you're not letting me get to the point. She was getting upset because Willow and Grey were dancing," he looked her straight in the eye and added forcefully, "which is not to be mentioned or discussed at all, okay?" She nodded. "Buffy asked me to dance with her. To cheer her up. It was a Slayer-mandated dance; had I not done it, I would have been bruised."
"She wants you."
"What? Buffy doesn't…"
"Not Buffy. The tra … sorceress."
"No, she doesn't."
"She watched you walk all the way over here. I know what that means. She wants to grab your ass with her hands."
"Uh … no."
"Xander, I know …"
"Oy Vey." He put his hands on her shoulders. "Anya, listen. I meant what I said. I want to try things with you again. It doesn't matter who wants to grab my ass, okay?"
"Okay," she said warily. "But until we figure things out, no one touches any part of your ass in any way unless they do it with my hands."
"Huh?"
"That was decent of Xander," Grey whispered to Willow as they watched him walk to Anya. She was pressed intimately against him, both of them enjoying the band's odd sound. "I hope he doesn't get in trouble."
"Eh, not likely. Mostly Anya's pretty reasonable about that. She trusts him."
"She's really hurting, Will." He meant Jess. The guilt in his voice practically drowned Willow. "I mean, really hurting."
"Seems alright to me, but you know her better."
"Yeah. I do."
"I thought for a second earlier that she had a thing with Tara."
"Really?" His nose scrunched questioningly. "Why?"
"Just a look in her eye."
"It's possible, I guess. I'd hate to think…"
"What?"
"Well, that I, I don't know, put her off guys or something."
"If we weren't dancing so close, I'd kick you in the shins."
"Why?"
"Because that could be the most ignorant thing I've ever heard you say, dummy. It doesn't work that way. It's about people, not their parts. And there's tons to love about Tara."
"Well, you'd know."
"Yes, I would, thank you very much." He kissed her lightly. "What was that for?"
"Indignance is cute. And I agree about Tara, by the way. She's great."
"Don't think you're off the hook."
"I know." He smiled and her knees went weak. "But you love me anyway."
"Yeah, unfortunately."
"I just want her happy, Will. That's all. I don't care who with."
"Give her some time, Grey. You can't fix this one."
Half an hour later, they were all squeezed around the tiny table, caffeinated beverages in hand.
"So when are you guys off to foggy London town?" Xander asked Willow.
"Monday, Xand. But we'll visit a lot," she added quickly.
"I know. But only two more days and it's back to the dreary rhythm of the winter months." His face drooped. "How is it that I'm well into my twenties and my life still moves on a high school schedule? That's really depressing."
"So you … work with the children?" Anya said to Jess, her voice only slightly negative. She knew that the witch could have designs on Xander, even if he didn't believe it.
"Me less than the others," Jess said. "I'm strictly rehabbing. Everybody else does, though."
"Oh, is it alcohol? Because Xander's father …"
"An. Inside thoughts, remember?"
"Never mind, I guess," she said, a look of incomprehension on her face.
Buffy smiled. The old Anya/Xander vibe might have gone into hibernation, but it wasn't dead.
"Nah, not alcohol. I'm there for the black magic program. We get nicer apartments than the drinkers, don't you know."
"Well, that sounds unpleasant."
"Could be worse," Grey chimed in, hoping to bail Jess out. "At least she has something to do. I don't even have a job anymore."
"Huh?" Willow looked up, startled. "What happened to your Deputy Head thing?"
"Turned it over to me," Jess said.
"Oh, right, on account of how you were once a Gryffindor?"
"Yeah."
"Sounds like a frat," Xander said. "You always know that secret handshake. Or you don't, and you have to stuff your bra and dance …" They were all looking at him. "So … still a part of the society, huh?"
"Uh huh. You don't leave or anythin'. If you stay in England, your house is like a tattoo in the workin' world. I'll be a Gryf pretty much forever."
"That's kind of cool, in an obsessive sort of way. What are you gonna do?" Willow asked Grey.
"Same thing as before, I guess. I don't know. Jess just told me this while you guys were getting the second round of coffees. Dumbledore wants to see me when we get there. I guess he's got something special for me."
"But he still wants you there?" Grey nodded. "Good. 'Cuz I do to." They smiled at one another as the conversation moved on.
"Hey, Xander," Grey said a little while later, "did you tell Buffy about the fun we had today?"
"Fun? At the comics thingy?"
"Yeah," Xander said ruefully, "those comics kids are into all this naughty bondage stuff. Who knew?"
"Like what?" Anya asked, suddenly losing her bored look.
"He joked … Actually, thing is, we ran into your nemesis and a vamp raiding party looking to chow down on the geek buffet."
"Nemesis? Who?" Buffy paused in thought. "Oh no. Not her."
"Yep."
"Who?" Willow asked, suddenly frightened. "Faith? 'Cuz I thought, you know, jail?"
"Not Faith, Will," Xander said, barely restraining laughter, "Harmony."
"That skanky blonde girl I beat the crap out of in Buffy's living room?"
"The very one, Anya."
"You let her in your house?" Grey asked.
"Not even when she was alive," Buffy answered. "Dawn had a slight mishap a few years ago. She got thoroughly scolded."
"Aah, I see."
"It was after that she …" Buffy's voice trailed off as she stared into the distance.
Thirty seconds passed.
"Umm, Buff?" Xander asked. "You in there?"
"Sure. I'll have the salad."
"That's … great." Six heads swiveled to follow Buffy's gaze. "Something else with your salad? Vampire maybe?"
"Oh, he better not be," she muttered. She hadn't moved her head an inch.
"Anybody else creeped out here?" Willow asked. Tara nodded her agreement.
A blonde man suddenly knifed his way through the crowd, heading straight for the table. Breath caught in every female throat as he came into view. His facial features were sharply defined and nearly perfect; ice blue eyes swept them with a purely sexual gaze. Anya's hand unconsciously fanned her throat at the sight. He wore black dress slacks and a shirt the same shade as his eyes.
He stepped in front of Buffy and met her stare.
"Dance with me." It was part request, part command.
"Hell yes." She slid off the seat and took his hand, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor.
When they had gone, the other three girls exhaled. Xander turned to Willow, "Did you get that Dark Prince … I mean, Dracula vibe there?"
"Kinda, yeah," she said, concerned. "Something was off."
"His aura. Definitely off. Did you see?"
"Sorta," Jess answered Tara. "It wasn't off, though. It was like … like it was too cohesive. Constructed, maybe? Have you ever seen that?"
"N-no. But you've been doing it longer than me."
"Not without a wand. Still gettin' used to that. But if I use the wand, he'll glow like a lightning bolt. It's a showstopper."
"Definitely a b-bad idea."
"Can the squib make a humble suggestion?" They looked at Grey expectantly. "Hit her with a clarity spell. If he's mind-fucking her, it'll break it. If not, she'll never know."
"Thank you for that imagery," Xander muttered.
"It-it'd make a scene, Grey," Tara said.
"An' we couldn't really explain me zingin' spells to the crowd, can we?"
Instead of responding verbally, he looked at Jess and raised an eyebrow. She suddenly knew what he wanted to do.
"Dublin?"
"Dublin." A smile spread slowly across his face.
She nodded and stood, pulling her wand from her purse. "Xander?"
"Yeah, Jess?"
"Might want to gather all our stuff and start for the door. If this doesn't work, it could be a bit messy." She looked at Tara. "It's no fun if you don't make a scene."
"What are you gonna do?" Willow asked.
"What we do. Trust me. If we start a riot, we'll meet you at Buffy's in an hour." Grey leaned over and kissed Willow's forehead. "Love you."
"Did he say riot?" Xander asked as they moved towards the bar.
Jess tapped the beer with her wand. "Appareo." The beer lightened slightly, but otherwise appeared normal. "You ready?"
"I'm ready. How's my beer?"
"Chock full o' clarity," she said with a laugh.
"Just how I like it." They moved to the dance floor, dancing behind Buffy and her new friend. Grey had his back to her, and Jess was facing him. They danced awkwardly, the beer in her hand and both acting like they were more than a bit tipsy. "Remember last time?"
"I remember you hittin' that poor bastard with a fryin' pan, an' his wife chasin' you outside with the other one."
"Could've happened to anyone. Besides, who was the one who missed her throw?"
"So I throw like a girl. Big deal."
"Don't miss this time."
"I won't. Ready?"
"I am indeed. And Jess?"
"Yeah?"
"I miss this."
"Me too, Grey. Me too." She paused, smiling craftily. "Showtime."
She shoved him away and started screaming.
"Don't touch me, you rank bastard! I know what you're about!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't you be grabbin' my parts without permission! What kind of gentleman does that?"
Grey leered at her. If it hadn't been an act, she might have been afraid. That look on his normally placid face was ghastly. Some of the other patrons started to notice them shouting.
"Hey, you're the one who's flashing the goods at me. What am I supposed to do, you fucking tease? Dumb bitches, you're all the same," he said dismissively, grabbing her arm.
"Lemme go, ya bastard. I'll fuckin' kill ya if you touch me again!"
"Come on, baby. Just a taste. You know you want it." He ran his hand up and down her arm. "If you're nice, it'll be fun."
The people around them were all watching now. Almost all the dancing had ceased, and the band missed a few notes as they saw him grab at her.
Buffy and the blonde man danced on, and that decided Jess. She tossed the beer full on in Grey's face. His right hand caught most of the splash headed for his eyes, and it came away dripping with the stuff.
"You stupid whore!" He whipped his right hand back, as if to slap her, and brushed some of the beer across the back of Buffy's neck. He couldn't see it, but her head shot up and she pushed the blonde man away.
"That's enough of that, buddy," the bouncer said, coming out from the crowd and grabbing him roughly. He could smell the beer stench on Grey, and didn't know it was from the thrown one. "I think it's time for you to go."
"Who … who are you?" Grey heard Buffy ask; he knew the spell had worked.
The blonde man smiled, his lips parting like the edges of a dagger, and he spun and left. She reached out to stop him, but somehow couldn't quite move fast enough as he faded into the crowd.
Grey grumbled as the bouncer led him out. "Didn't do nothin'," he muttered. "You saw her. Fucking tease, rubbing up against me like that."
"You better go home and sleep it off, buddy."
"It's alright, Chris," Willow said to the bouncer as she appeared at the entrance to the Bronze with the other three. "He's with us. Just, y'know, a few too many."
"He's with you?" Chris looked skeptical. He'd been bouncing at the Bronze since Willow and Xander had been sophomores in high school, and knew them well. "You sure?"
"Uh huh," Willow said. "Friend from work."
Chris nodded, handing Grey, who still affected a tipsy walk, off to Xander before pulling Willow aside. "Okay. I'll take your word for it. But he's bad news, Willow. Some friendly advice? Drop him. Guys who let the beer get to them that much are never okay for long."
She suppressed a chuckle. "He's a nice guy, Chris, really. Just gets carried away sometimes. Thanks for looking out, though." The bouncer nodded skeptically and walked back inside. Jess and Buffy met them around the corner five minutes later; Buffy looked shaken.
"You cool, Buff?"
She shook her head. "Talk. My house. Now."
"So what was up with the Saint in there?" They all had seats in Buffy's living room. Dawn had come down when they arrived and planted herself on the stairs, eager to hear about the night's events.
"Oh please, Xander. He looked nothing like Val Kilmer," Anya said.
"I dunno, there was some Val there. I saw it, Xand," Willow said with a wink.
"But back here in the land of important things," said Buffy's impatient and grumpy voice.
"Sorry, Buffy," Willow said.
"It's alright, Will. The whole thing just fedexed me a box of the wig." She looked from Grey to Jess. "And what the hell were the two of you doing in there? What was that 'just a taste' crap?"
"We didn't want to be all obvious, hitting you with a thrall-breaker in a big crowd," Jess explained. "Most muggles don't like wizards when they first see 'em. So I enchanted the beer."
"And I made her throw it at me, then put some of it on you."
"Is that what hit my neck?" Buffy crinkled her nose, "Rank beer smell. Blech."
"What happened in Dublin?" Willow asked.
"Not important, Will," Grey looked away.
"Short version?" Jess broke in with glee. "Did the same thing with a truth spell to an informant. Except I missed an' hit the barkeeper's daughter." Grey reddened with embarrassment. "Turns out she has a thing for bald men, an' the truth spell made her a little aggressive. She started pullin' clothes off and … touching things … to entice him, an' her father got a wee bit of upset."
"I hit him with a frying pan," Grey said sheepishly. Seeing Willow's stunned look, he hurriedly added, "He was going for his shotgun. I didn't have a choice."
"Then her mother chased him out into the street, and I had to spell the lot of them so that we didn't get in trouble with the muggle police." Xander, Anya and Dawn were quietly chuckling in their seats, but Willow and Tara looked unhappy with the explanation.
"Was there really thrall happening there?" Buffy asked quietly. She had ignored most of the exchange.
"I think so, Buffy," Willow said. "We got kind of a weird vibe off of him."
"His aura looked weird. Artificial, s-somehow," Tara said. "Th-that's why we did the spell."
"Who was he?"
"I don't know, Will. He didn't say another word after we started dancing. But I didn't feel threatened or anything. Even with Drac I felt the evil – with this guy I felt … longing. Does that sound weird?" The three magic users shrugged. "Could there have been thrall without a threat? Like, non-aggressive, friendly thrall?"
"Friendly thrall usually means some kind of love spell, Buffy," Willow said. "That wouldn't be good."
"This sounds Giles-worthy," Dawn said, her concern obvious. "I mean, he's got all those new books over there. You guys should call him. It's like research 9-1-1. And if this guy pulled a beam-up so quick, he might have known what you did, and he'll probably be back." They all stared at her. "What? Did I grow an extra head?"
"That makes a lot of sense, Dawnie," Willow said. Everyone else nodded.
"Hey, I might not be a Hogwarts girl, but I'm not dumb. Go Sunnydale High," she said with a laugh.
"Was that really the best thing master I don't think it was really the best thing now the Slayer knows your aura she's seen you her friends have seen you they all … ULP!!"
"Silence," the blonde man said, waving his hand. He watched, amused, as his rambling companion, a two-foot tall, brown furball with a green, curved beak and huge leathery wings, searched in vain for its vanished mouth. "We have discussed this, you twit. I needed to meet the Slayer, or our work could not begin. I have touched her. That told me enough. As for her meeting me," he ran a hand over his chin and the blonde visage vanished into a gray haze, "it doesn't matter. When we truly meet, appearance will carry little weight."
