Chapter 9: Something Special
"So what's the what?" Dawn said. "Why the big gathering?"
She, Willow, Tara, Xander, and Giles were seated around the dining room table. Giles was at the head of the table, and everyone was looking to him, waiting for him to speak. Finally, he turned to Tara, who was sitting on his left.
"Is everyone here? What about Anya?" he said.
"I called the Magic Box, but she wasn't there. I left a message at her apartment asking her to come here when she gets the message."
"Well," he said, "I suppose we had better get started. We have a problem. I know, I know, we all knew that. Warren has shot Buffy, she's in a coma, and the police have yet to apprehend him. However, I fear that he is not our biggest concern." The Brit had all of their attention now. "You see, it is only a matter of time until the denizens of the underworld hear that the Slayer is...temporarily out of commission. When the sun goes down, I fear that she will be under attack."
They all glanced apprehensively at the window.
"Um, Giles?" Willow said. He looked over to her. "It's already sunset."
"Yes, I do not believe that they would attempt anything during visiting hours. Too many witnesses, you see. However, we should get there as soon as possible. I thought perhaps Tara could perform a warding spell around Buffy's room?"
All eyes turned to the witch. She bit her lip as she thought about Giles's proposition. "I don't think that would work. I could put up a shield, but the hospital workers would kick us out eventually, and then if a demon managed to puncture it, well...that would be it. I think it would be better if we stayed to watch her. I could put up a cloaking spell around us. We would be invisible to everyone else."
"Angel will probably show tonight," Willow added. "He can help with the fighting and all that...if there is fighting."
"What about Spike?" Dawn said. "He could help."
"No way," Xander said.
"He could!" Dawn protested. "He wouldn't let anything happen to her."
"That's a laugh."
"Xander!" Dawn cried.
Everyone began speaking at once. Willow tried to placate Dawn, and Tara attempted to reason with Xander. Meanwhile Giles was just trying to get everybody to stop shouting. It was a complete failure. Until a voice came from behind them.
"If you're talking about Spike, there's really no point."
They all spun around to see Anya standing there, looking very frustrated.
---
Fifteen minutes ago...
Clem popped The Wedding Planner, which he had been dying to see, into the VCR. He sat down in the armchair and picked up his bowl of Doritos. As the FBI warning appeared on the screen, he began munching. Ugh, he thought to himself, these Nacho Cheese chips hurt my tongue...The movie was about to begin, so he pressed pause and went in search of some Cooler Ranch.
"Aha!" he said to himself in triumph as he found the desired chips.
He heard the VCR stop in the other room, and the TV program began to play. He ambled back into the living room, happily snacking on the chips. Then the air shimmered and he dropped his chips in surprise.
"Holy cow!" he shouted as a woman materialized out of thin air.
"You're not Spike," she said petulantly.
"Umm, no," he replied as his heartbeat returned to normal. "Hey, I know you. Anya, right?"
"Yeah, umm..."
"Clem," he supplied.
"Yes, you were at my not-wedding and Buffy's birthday."
He grinned at her. "So...um...what's with the whole teleporting thing? That's new, right?"
She smiled and pushed a strand of blond hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I'm a vengeance demon again. D'Hoffryn gave me my old job back after, well, you know."
Clem nodded. "Oh. Well, would you like to sit down?" He grabbed the remote and muted the TV. "Or a snack?"
"No thanks," Anya replied. "Sorry about your chips," she said, looking down at the mess on the floor.
"Don't worry about it," he said good-naturedly. "Sure you don't want anything? I've got Nacho Cheesier!"
She shook her head. "Look, Clem, have you seen Spike?"
Clem glanced at her with surprise. "Spike? He's gone. He took off a few nights ago. He could be gone for a while. That's why I'm staring here for him. Sweet pad like this goes empty for a few days, you'll lose it for sure...Plus, I don't have a TV. Why, do you need him?"
"I was kind of hoping he could help me with a little something," she said in hushed tones. "Since he left, he must not have heard."
"Heard what?" Clem asked innocently.
"Buffy's been shot. She's in a coma. And the geek who did it got away."
"Oh no!" Clem said sympathetically. "She's such a sweet girl! I mean, most Slayers don't get too friendly with the floppy-eared," he said, gesturing at his own ears. "Man, she was something special. Is, I mean. Is something special."
"Yeah, well, I should be going."
"All right, well, see you around. Give my best wishes to her sister. Let me know if she wakes up."
Anya gave him a little smile, and vanished.
"Bye," he said with a small wave. Sighing, Clem sat down in the armchair and picked up the remote. He un-muted the television and pressed play. He stared at the screen as The Wedding Planner began, but he was not really seeing it.
---
Well, my plan sure isn't going very well, Anya thought to herself as she sat in the backseat of Xander's car with Dawn. Willow and Tara were with Giles in his rental car. They were on their way to the hospital to guard Buffy. Apparently, Giles was expecting all the local vampires to try to take her out. And while they had their hands full protecting the comatose Slayer, Warren was nowhere to be found, not that anyone was really looking. She sighed and leaned back in her seat. Spike was now out of the question. She'd have to find someone else to make the wish.
---
"Change, goddamn it," Angel growled at the red traffic light. He had left LA as soon as the sun was low enough on the horizon for him to go out. The drive to Sunnydale had never seemed so long before.
He knew there was really no need for him to get there quickly. Willow had told him that the doctors didn't expect her to wake up. They had said the same thing about Faith, but he prayed that it wouldn't take Buffy eight months to wake up. Still, he knew the chances of her waking up now, less than a week after being shot, were next to nothing. But he couldn't help feeling that if he could just get there, just see her, and hold her hand, everything would be okay. Or if not okay, at least better.
The light finally turned to green, and he shot forward. Even if his brain was telling him to slow down, to drive under the speed limit, his heart knew that he had to get there. He had to be with her. He had to.
