Summary: Yet another Halloween fic. With demons.
Disclaimer: I own... hmm. I own nothing. The bank owns any money I make, at the moment. The concepts building 1001Keys do not belong to me, most probably.
Feedback: Why not? It helps me write more and better...
Pre-fic Comments:
BOOGABOOGABOOGA!
Hah. Since none of you consciously read this section, your subconscious will notice it and bug you about it for the rest of the day. But you won't know where the unsettling feeling is from, since you never /read/ this part.
BOOGABOOGABOOGA!
* * *
Joyce knocked on the door a few times, but no one answered it. Then she spotted the doorbell.
"Oh!" *dingdong!*
The volume of the music abated, somewhat, and the front door opened to show... the most outlandish man Joyce had ever met.
He was gaunt, almost skeletally so, and was barefoot in a pair of jeans, his upper half clad in a longsleeved dress shirt with an Asian dragon winding it's way around the fabric. He appeared somewhat dazed in the morning sunshine.
"Hi," he said hesitantly.
Joyce put her hand out firmly. "Hi, I'm Joyce Summers, your new neighbour?"
The man took her hand, shaking it almost absently. A smile tugged at a corner of his mouth. "Hi, I'm John O'Neil."
"Would you like to come over for a cup of hot chocolate?," Joyce asked.
Once she had him calm, settled down, and not expecting anything, that was when she would lay down her demands.
* * *
Xander yawned as the small cadre of underachievers waited for Miss Calendar and Willow to unlock the computer classroom.
"This isn't right. School on a Saturday," Cordelia bitched. "It throws off my internal clock."
"When are we gonna need computers in real life anyway?," Xander asked.
"Hmm, let's see," Miss Calendar began. "There's home, school, work, games..."
"Y'know, computers are on the way out," Xander said hopefully. "I think paper's gonna make a big comeback."
"And the abacus," Willow commented jokingly.
"Yeah, you know, you don't see enough abaci," Xander agreed amiably.
They all went into the classroom, each of them sitting in front of a computer.
"Alright, guys," the teacher began. "The first thing we're gonna do is... Buffy!"
"We're gonna do Buffy?," Xander asked, already semi-sleepy.
"Aw, you miss your friends?," Willow smirked.
"Actually I wanted to talk to you for a second?," Buffy asked Miss Calendar.
"Something wrong?," the gypsy asked.
"Is there some crisis that requires instant action? Very far from here?," Xander asked, face shining with hope.
"It's Giles," Buffy reported, Little Miss Informative.
"Well, he's alright, isn't he?," Jenny asked, worried.
"I don't know," Buffy frowned. "Uh, he didn't show up when he was supposed to last night, and then, when I went over to his place, he was acting... well, very anti-Giles. He wouldn't let me in, and he looked really bad. I-I think he might've been... I think he was drinking."
Xander wasn't sure he believed this. Giles was the most straitlaced guy he'd ever met -- he couldn't see El Watcher G-man consuming of the alky.
"He was home alone drinking?," Jenny asked disbelievingly.
"But... tea, right?," Willow asked, hoping that Buffy was joking with then.
"Wasn't tea, Will," Buffy said.
"Yep, yep, I knew this would happen," Xander nodded knowingly. "Nobody can be wound as straight and narrow as Giles without a dark side erupting. My Uncle Roary was the stodgiest taxidermist you've ever met by day. By night, it was booze, whores, and fur flying. Were there whores?"
Xander certainly hoped so.
"He was alone," Buffy glared. This was serious!
"Bummer," Xander sighed. He then brightened up. "Does this mean that other guys get Giles' share of whores?"
Cordelia punched Xander on the shoulder. "Enough with that!"
"Hey!," Willow protested. "I'm the only one allowed to hit Xander!"
"Anyone noticed him acting weird, or anything weird happening?," the Slayer asked.
"No!," Willow said vehemently. Nope, no weirdness happening around or due to Willow Rosenberg, nope.
"Not really," Jenny hedged.
"No, he seemed perfectly normal yesterday when I saw him talking to the police," Cordelia said happily.
Everyone present looked at the cheerleader.
"And you waited till now to tell us this because...?," Buffy asked suspiciously.
"I didn't think it was important," Cordelia protested. "And I was busy thinking about other things, okay?"
"What things?," Willow asked suspiciously.
Cordelia gave Xander a lascivious look. "Things."
"We understand. It wasn't about you," Xander soothed her.
"Well, what were the police talking to him about?," Jenny asked, worried about her kinda-boyfriend.
"Oh, don't tell me, I know this one," Cordelia said. "Um... Something about... a homicide."
"That's it. I-I'm calling him right now," Buffy decided. Homicide was serious.
* * *
"Oh, so you... write books for a living?," Joyce asked, getting very confused.
O'Neil shook his head. "No, for I f1gh7 th4 3v1l with all of my p0werZ..."
"I'm sorry," Joyce said politely. "But... what do you mean by '3v1l' and those other words? Is that German?"
"That's okay," O'Neil smiled. "I sl4y 3v1l for a living. It's most sw33t."
"Sw33t?," Joyce asked. "Who do you work for?"
"Cobra Corporation," the gaunt man grinned madly. "I live to smack down those who would challenge my supremacy in their world."
"Ohhh," Joyce smiled. "You're a computer security consultant!"
O'Neil scratched his head. "I guess you could call it that."
He held up his tea mug. "Most 3x* * *
Post-fic Comments:
The corporation that O'Neil works for is a creation of my own :)