Chapter 2: Sunnydale

Sunnydale, January 13th, 2017

The Council was coming to Sunnydale? To her town? To review her work?

Buffy Summers would stomp them into the ground for their presumption! She'd kept the town safe for more than four years! The Hellmouth, too! She'd stopped apocalypses! She'd killed vampires that had been around for hundreds of years!

"And those arrogant, stupid, old men think they can set conditions for revealing the information we need?" she spat.

"That is what they said and - apparently - believe," Giles said.

She scoffed. "Well, they're wrong! They haven't done anything in years, and now they think they can dictate terms to me? Judge me?" Buffy hissed the last words.

"To be fair, the Council has been covering other Hellmouths, although those aren't nearly as dangerous as the active one here. Still, they did this without a Slayer," Giles pointed out. "So, I don't think you can honestly call them inactive."

"I can certainly call them inactive!" Buffy protested. "'They're inactive! They're useless!'" She nodded. "See? Works like a charm!" She beamed at him.

Giles didn't look impressed. Obviously, she needed to work on her delivery. Or something. With a sigh she hunched over. "Alright, they might not have done nothing at all. But they haven't done anything for me - for us. Why should we do what they say? We've done fine ever since they fired you!"

"For a certain definition of 'fine', I would say," Giles replied. "Although I do agree that we've beaten every challenge that presented itself without any support from the Council. Sometimes we did it despite their 'help'."

"You mean Wussley, don't you?" she asked with a grin. Giles might like to present a stoic and understanding facade, but Buffy knew that it really annoyed him that he had been replaced by Wesley Wyndam-something in her last year of high school.

"That pillock certainly wasn't very helpful," Giles said. "Quite the contrary."

"Oh, you make with the cursing now! That means you're serious!" She snickered at the narrowed eyes her comment caused but quickly dropped her smile. Things were serious after all. Some skanky demon wanted to kill Dawn! "And yes, we've done well without them! Especially when we didn't follow all the stupid rules in their stupid book. Like 'The Slayer always works alone'," she added in the most stupidly overdone English accent she could manage.

Giles cleared his throat. "Well, the book was written centuries ago and not meant for, shall we say, special cases such as you."

She frowned at him. "'Special cases'?" She cocked her head. That didn't sound like a compliment. More like 'Special Ed'.

"Slayers who weren't raised by the Council. Kendra is a better example of the average Slayer."

"Brainwashed robot, got it." She nodded.

Giles winced. "I wouldn't go that far. Sheltered, perhaps."

"She couldn't even talk to a boy without going to pieces," Buffy reminded him. And the other Slayer had tried to poach her Watcher, too, with her talk about books! "And I beat her easily. So much for the Council training." She bared her teeth at him.

"Well, yes. Although you also already were amongst the more experienced Slayers at the time."

"Which is another point against following Council rules," she retorted. "They aren't really good for surviving, you know?"

"I am aware of the average lifespan of a Council-trained Slayer. And of her Watcher," he said, smiling wryly.

"So, why should we listen to them?" She spread her hands. "We've done fine without them!"

"The only reason for acquiescing that I can see is that they have information we need."

To save Dawn. And probably the town or more. "You just had to remind me of that," she complained.

"That is amongst my duties."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. But why should we dance to their tune for information? Negotiating with terrorists is un-American!"

"We don't have to," he said. "But I am not aware of any alternative sources for the information kept in the Council's archives."

"We could break in and get it ourselves! Hop on a plane to Merry Old England, sneak into the dusty old headquarters and search the archives. Their security is probably centuries out of date." Willow would be able to handle anything.

"Their security is actually very much up to date," he corrected her. "They mostly recruit amongst veteran soldiers or police officers, but they also recruit from those in Her Majesty's Secret Service - and they generally know all about securing buildings against intruders."

"The Council's got James Bond? Why do they need a Slayer?" That was so unfair!

"James Bond is a fictional character," Giles replied.

"I knew that." She pouted. "But I guess that means the mission to England is not going to work?"

He smiled gently at her as he shook his head. "I'm afraid so. They would, at least delay you long enough for reinforcements to arrive, and I would rather not have you be forced to kill humans to escape. And if the police gets involved..."

Well, that just meant she needed a better plan. There was no way Buffy would submit to the Council. She was the Slayer. "Well, then we have to beat the information out of them once they're in Sunnydale." She nodded. Firmly.

Giles stared at her. Then he started polishing his glasses.

"Not a good plan?" she asked.

"I think that this proposal needs a little more work," he replied.

Which meant it was totally a bad plan in his opinion. Well, she wasn't the planny girl. Unless it was an attack or assault. She sighed. "Why can't things be easy? For once?"

"I've found that the older we get, the more complicated life tends to become."

"Shouldn't that mean things should be 'complicated' for the Council? They're way, way older than me! They're practically ancient!"

And Giles was frowning at her. But it was the truth! It was… She cocked her head. Someone was coming.

The door to the shop was opened. "Buffy! We need… Giles! You're back!" Anya stood there, flashing a brief smile at him. Followed by a frown. "It wasn't my fault!"

"Hello, Anya." Giles's smile faded and was replaced by a slight frown. "What wasn't your fault?"

Now he was looking at her? Buffy frowned back. "It wasn't my fault! At all!"

"Nothing broke in the shop before you arrived!" Anya said.

"What? That's not true!" Buffy protested. She was sure Olaf had wrecked something before she and the troll had had it out.

"What happened?" Giles asked. He wasn't looking at Buffy, any more, though - he was walking towards the shop area.

"Uh…" Anya said. "We - that is, Willow - accidentally summoned a troll."

Giles stopped. "A troll?" Then he sped up, and Buffy was sure that he'd have pushed Anya to the side if she hadn't given way. "Dear Lord!"

Buffy hastened after him. "It's not as bad as it looks," she said. "Xander can fix it, but the troll broke his arm, so he can't fix it. Right now, that is."

"I've run the numbers," Anya added. "The profit lost from reduced sales due to the damaged interior is less than the cost of hiring a carpenter to fix the damages instead of waiting for Xander to heal up."

Buffy blinked. That sounded like… "You're exploiting Xander to make a profit?"

Anya looked at her as if Buffy were dumb. "I'm maximising my investments. That's good company policy. All the books agree to keep costs as low as possible."

"Wow." Buffy turned to Giles. "You should, maybe, turn down the Capitalism Ho! thingie, you know?" Especially amongst impressionable young former Vengeance Demons who had last been amongst humans when Vikings were role models.

Giles gaped at her. "What… I didn't!"

"You told me to read up on running a shop," Anya said, "when I had too many questions for you."

Buffy frowned at Giles. "Really? Too many questions for you?"

"Buffy, as much as it might surprise you, I have a degree in folklore and ancient history, not in business administration," Giles replied.

She blinked. "Why would that surprise me? I know you're all about old and mouldy books… Oh, that was sarcasm. Right." Her Watcher was great but surely had his faults.

"Giles has an annoying tendency to assume that others know when he's being sarcastic," Anya chimed in.

"That's because people usually do," Giles replied with a thin smile. "Though it might take them a while in some cases."

"Hey!" Buffy pouted at him. "That's not my fault. Blame my education for that. And my Watcher!"

"Yes!" Anya added.

"And what would be your excuse?" Giles asked her.

"My superior didn't sufficiently instruct me," she told him without a break.

Giles sighed. "Why didn't I stay in England?"

"Because you love us? And because you're needed here, and not in Old Rainy?" Buffy told him with her best charming smile.

He didn't quite return her smile, but it was a start.

"In any case, we should gather the rest of our intrepid group and discuss the news I brought." He looked around. "Although, perhaps, in less damaged surroundings. This seems to be a little…" He trailed off. "I don't remember buying a hammer."

"Oh!" Buffy perked up, "That's mine! It's the trollhammer I took from Olaf the troll, which Anya had banished to hell and then recalled by accident."

"That was Willow's fault!"

But Giles wasn't listening, Buffy realised. He was walking towards her hammer. "Dear Lord! This is…"

"...my hammer!" she reminded him as she quickly walked up to his side and stood next to her trophy.

He glanced at her, then back at the hammer. "This is an impressively powerful artefact according to my preliminary impression."

Buffy nodded. "More importantly, though, it's mine."

"She won't share! Imagine how much money we could get for it!" Anya added.

Buffy glared at her - as if she'd sell her hammer! - but Anya ignored her.

Typical.

Giles took a step back and shook his head. "Well, I would like to examine it thoroughly, but I fear we'll have to focus on our problem at hand. Did you schedule a meeting with the others?"

"Scooby meeting at six!" Buffy told him. She grinned at the slight wince Xander's name for their group caused.


"So… the old men from the Council are coming to 'inspect' me," Buffy summed up Giles's somewhat lengthier explanation. "And they don't want to hand over their information about the skanky bottle-blonde demon unless I pass."

"The demon that beat you," Xander added with a grim expression. Well, a grim expression for him. She glared at him for the reminder she totally didn't need, and he held up one hand - he still had one arm in a sling. "Just making sure we're all on the same page here!"

"The Council's coming to test you. That's bad. " Willow looked concerned.

"Yes, I know," Buffy nodded. The presomthing of the old men!

"Unless it's something physical," Willow went on. "Do they test your vampire slaying rate? Because it's exceptional! I've compared it to all the data we have on other slayers' careers, and you've beaten them all."

"Well, Buffy's been around longer than most other Slayers," Xander said. Buffy could've done without that reminder as well.

"I didn't just mean the total numbers, but also the rates of vampires killed per night," Willow explained. "So, if they're here for a performance review, then you should be OK."

Buffy couldn't help feeling that her bestie's priorities were a little off. "It's not about killing vampires," she told her.

"It isn't?" Willow looked surprised. "But I had the impression that the Council is a very 'the end justifies the means' organisation, meaning they should excuse pretty much everything as long as you kill demons and stop apocalypses. That's a bad thing, actually - such a stance generally backfires after a bit, and the Council's been around far too long for not suffering such consequences - but it should be a good thing for you!"

Giles cleared his throat and polished his glasses. That was a double-bad sign. Sign of something double-bad? "Ah… while the Council certainly is ruthless in fighting the forces of darkness, as evidenced in their treatment of both Slayers and Watchers as expendable, they do not value efficiency in battles above all."

"Oh?" Willow perked up.

Buffy did not.

"They are as much or even more concerned with their authority over the Slayer," Giles explained. "Buffy may be the most effective Slayer on a Hellmouth in history…"

Buffy nodded with a pleased smile. It was good to know that others knew what you did. Most of the time.

"...but the Council doesn't tolerate insubordination, as I've personally found out when I was replaced as your official Watcher," Giles finished.

"But… Buffy wasn't insubordinate!" Willow protested. "She did everything she had to!"

"And without punting Wesley into the ocean," Xander added with a grin. "No matter how much he deserved it."

Buffy sighed. Willow and Xander were the best friends a Slayer could wish for - loyal and brave above all - but they didn't see the real problem. "They want me to submit to their authority," she told them.

"In exchange for information about our enemy." Willow nodded. "Which we need to protect Dawn."

And to kill that skanky demon. "Which they should give us," Buffy reminded her friends. "Or we should make them give it to us," she added with a growl.

"How?" Xander asked. "You think they have a suitcase with the books in question with them?"

"The information will undoubtedly be copied - the Council is generally loath to part, even temporarily, with the books from the Council's archives," Giles said. "And as much as I wish it were different, I don't think their delegation will bring the information with them to Sunnydale. They have enough veterans from MI6 amongst their ranks to ensure proper procedures for such things."

Stupid James Bond Watchers. Or would that be M-Watchers? Buffy clenched her teeth. "And Giles already told me that we can't just fly to London and break into their headquarters." Which was decidedly unfair. If the Council could just come into her town, she should be able to return the favour. Which wasn't a favour at all.

"So, no 'we have ways to make you talk'?" Xander pouted exaggeratedly. "And there's a sale on dental drills!"

"There is?" Anya perked up. "Where?"

Everyone stared at her. Xander cleared his throat. "I was joking, Anya."

She glared at him. "One doesn't joke about such things!"

Buffy wasn't sure she wanted to know what Anya wanted drills for.

"We can't torture people!" Willow spoke up, frowning at everyone else. "Well, I mean, we could, but it wouldn't be right. And not just because it's morally wrong and evil and a crime, but because torture doesn't really work. People say whatever they think you want to hear."

"And they tend to hold grudges after being tortured," Giles added with a tight expression. "Completely understandable, I might add."

Buffy frowned at him - that had been Angelus, not Angel.

"So, we can't steal the information and we can't beat it out of them," Xander said after a moment. "That leaves passing their inspection."

Buffy clenched her teeth again. She wasn't good with tests. Unless it was something she was good at. Like beating up bad guys.


"Im back." Buffy announced as she entered her home. "Dawn? Spike?"

No one answered her. She suppressed a gasp. Had something appended? Had the demon skank attacked them? She rushed to the kitchen - the back door wasn't damaged. And the front door had been locked. But where was awn? And Spike? "Dawn! Spike!"

She checked upstairs. Empty. No! The demon must have… She froze. Steps. From below.

She rushed downstairs, Mr. Pointy in hand, rounded the corner into the hallway...

"Oi!" Spike retreated from her, hands held up. "Watch the stake!"

"Spike!" The door behind him led to the basement. "Where's…" She cocked her head. More steps. And there was Dawn! Coming up the stairs. "What have you been doing in the basement?"

"Nothing," Dawn replied with a sniff. "Are you done with your ultra-secret meeting?"

Buffy glared at Spike. He glared back. "Oi! I didn't complain about being left out of your planning session."

He hadn't. Well, not by his standards. "You're - after me - the best fighter we got," she told him anyway.

"And we need the best fighter to protect me, blah blah blah," Dawn cut in, pushing past them towards the kitchen. "Did you bring dinner? I'm hungry."

"I was about to make dinner," Buffy told her.

"Oh, goody. Burnt mac'n'cheese. Can't we skip the whole thing and order pizza right away? We don't want Mom to find out you wasted all her food when she returns from the hospital, do we?"

Buffy glared at the brat, then at the chuckling vampire. She could cook perfectly fine. Fine-ish. She hadn't burnt the macaroni last time, anyway. Just… browned them. A little. "We're not going to eat mac'n'cheese," she told Dawn.

"Of course we won't," Dawn shot back. "But what does that have to do with your plans to set fire to another innocent dish?"

That's… "We're having a salad!" Buffy announced.

"Are you feeling fat again?"

"What? I'm not fat!" She had never been fat. Or felt fat. Not since she had become a Slayer - staying slim was one of the best perks of being a Slayer. One of the only perks as well, except for being supernaturally strong, tough, fast, and… Alright, there were some perks.

"So why do you want to starve me?" Dawn huffed and crossed her arms.

"I don't want…" Buffy shook her head and sighed. "Fine. Pizza it is."

Dawn went from pouting to smirking in an instant. "Great! I want pepperoni, anchovies, salami, peanut butter and pineapple on mine!"

Buffy stared at Dawn, but her not-quite-natural sister seemed serious. Even Spike was looking a little queasy, and he ate British cereal with cold blood for breakfast. She felt like throwing up just from hearing this. Oh… her sister was being a brat again. Fine. She smiled. "I don't think that any pizza delivery offers that combination."

Dawn's smirk grew more pronounced. "Oh, but they do! Devil's Pizza offers it! And they deliver in the evening, too!" She held up a menu.

They did? In Sunnydale? Buffy narrowed her eyes. "I'll go and fetch the pizza." And she'd check the place for demons and other bad magic. And if she found something...

"They have black pudding!" Spike had grabbed the menu.

Definitely demony, Buffy thought. Then she blinked. "Wait… you never told me what you've been doing in the basement!"

"Nothing!" Dawn replied. But she was lying - Buffy knew her too well for that. The memories might have been magic, but they weren't, well, wrong.

She frowned at Spike.

He caved. "I was just showing her some moves."

"Moves?" She narrowed her eyes. "Were you putting the moves on her?"

"What?" Spike stared at her. "Of course not!"

"He means fighting moves, dumbass," Dawn cut in.

"You were teaching her how to fight?" Buffy wasn't quite sure how to take that. On the one hand, Dawn was in danger, and knowing how to fight could save her life. She wouldn't be able to beat or even hurt a demon Buffy hadn't been able to hurt, but the demon skank's minions weren't so tough. On the other hand, Dawn wouldn't learn enough to defend herself in a few lessons. And Spike teaching her? That was like… like… Well, she couldn't find the words, but it wasn't a good thing.

"Just a few tricks," Spike replied.

"Like where to stab a c..." Dawn was cut off by Spike putting his hand over her mouth.

"I showed her the vulnerable spots to stab," he said.

Buffy blinked again. "You showed her…?"

"Not like that!" he protested.

"Oh, you've got a dirty mind, Buffy!"


Arcadia Oaks, January 14th, 2017

"Alright!" James Lake Jr. looked around, then lowered his voice. Toby's nana had weak eyes, but her ears were still good. "You're sure you can develop the pictures?"

"Worry not, Master Jim - I've studied the texts detailing the process most intently and thoroughly. Photography does not hold any secrets for me any more. Why, I would even go as far as claiming that trolls possess a natural affinity for developing photos due to the fact that it is done in the absence of most light, an environment for which we are uniquely suited. Compared to humans, at least; some demon species might be as adapted to it as we are." Blinky nodded with a wide smile. "Rest assured that this part of your mission is in good hands."

AAARRRGGHH! nodded. "No worry."

"I've told Nana that we can't come out for the whole day without ruining days of our work," Toby added. "It'll be fine."

"This will certainly help." Blinky nodded. "And I must confess that I am curious about the pictures you took. While this is primarily a ploy to allow you to travel to Sunnydale for your mission without raising suspicion amongst your guardians and other authorities, there's no reason it cannot bear fruits as a perfectly legitimate venture as well. Why, some of my friends might be very interested in pictures showing Arcadia Oaks in daylight since they are only familiar with the town at night."

If Jim had known that in advance, he would have made a bigger effort with the pictures.

"That's a good idea!" Claire, of course, was all for it. "

Jim nodded with a weak smile. "That's ah, a good idea, Blinky. But let's go over the pictures together before we show them to others, alright?" Maybe they should have been a little more serious when taking pictures over the last two days.

"Oh, yes," Claire chimed in. "I'm sure your friends wouldn't be interested in our, ah, selfies."

"Oh? You managed to get a self-timer to work? Marvellous!" Blinky beamed at them. "You have to show me how to work it! My last attempt, unfortunately, destroyed my camera."

"Push too heavy," AAARRRGGHH! added.

"Quite. I overestimated the durability of my camera and underestimated the force exerted by my rock." Blinky nodded with an almost wistful smile. "Which, incidentally, led to my forays into the art of photography coming to an end before they could get started."

"Ah." Jim hoped that Blinky would show a little more restraint - and common sense - this weekend. If he wrecked Toby's room, their ruse would be exposed. "And the speakers?" He looked at the boxes next to the door.

"All set up, master Jim!" Blinky said. "We can just place the phone in front of this microphone, and Tobias's grandmother will hear your voice as if you were standing next to her. Separated by a door, and slightly muffled, I mean."

"Good." It looked like everything was set up, but Jim couldn't help feeling that they had forgotten something.

"Well, we need to go if we want to catch the bus," Claire said, holding up her staff. With a glance at Toby, she added: "We can't portal right on top of the station, after all."

Toby frowned in return. "It's still not long from the patch of forest behind the stop."

"It's a way."

Jim rolled his eyes. It looked as if not quite all the tension between his two best friends - his best friend and his, hopefully, girlfriend, he reminded himself - was gone. Well, they'd work it out. They'd better work it out, or that two hours bus trip would be a major pain.

"I think everything is set," Blinky said. "And in an emergency, do not hesitate to call us. We might be unable to come to your aid, given the distance and the presence of sunlight barring our way, but our counsel is at your disposal."

"Thanks. I hope we won't need to call you," Jim told him.

"Just make sure no one notices that we're gone," Toby added.

"I shall endeavour to do so," Blinky replied.

AAARRRGGHH! nodded.

Then Claire opened a black portal in the middle of the room, and they left Toby's home.

And arrived, slightly higher than expected, in the middle of the forest nearby. Jim landed in a crouch - all that training in the Hero's forge had really done wonders for his reflexes. Claire landed with all the grace and elegance of a ballerina. Toby… landed.

"Ooof!"

"Sorry."

"Yeah, sure."

"Let's go!" Jim said. "I think I hear the bus." He didn't, actually. But it got them moving.


Sunnydale, January 14th, 2017

"Ah! Finally!" James Lake Jr. stretched and rolled his neck and shoulders as soon as he had left the bus. "I was getting cramps in there."

"And I was starving," Toby added. "I should've packed more food. I had to resort to my emergency bars."

Which were also known as Mars bars. Jim looked around and frowned. "It looks… pretty normal."

"What did you expect?" Toby asked, making a beeline for the vending machines at the bus station. "Vampires walking around in daylight?"

Jim frowned at him, now, but his friend was already stuffing coins into the machine.

"Well, Arcadia Oaks looks very normal as well, and we know it's built on Trollmarket," Claire pointed out. "A visitor wouldn't find it strange."

"It could also be that our views are skewed since we grew up in Arcadia Oaks," Jim replied.

"What?" Toby gasped. "You think we're the weirdos?"

"I don't think so," Claire told them. "Although I do feel a little out of place when I visit Los Angeles."

"So… we are the weirdos."

"I think everyone else agrees that the people in Los Angeles are the weirdos." Jim shook his head. "In any case, we're here to find the Hammer of the Troll Gods, not to conduct a survey about local weirdness."

"We might have to do that," Toby said. "You know what Blinky said: We won't find that hammer lying around in the open. It's probably deep down below us, in a magically sealed cave. What does the Divine Compass say?"

Right. The Compass. Jim looked around - the bus had left and so had the other passengers. He reached into his backpack and grabbed the contraption.

"Cops six o'clock!" Toby hissed.

Jim jerked and whirled around but couldn't see anyone.

"My six o'clock!"

Jim turned around again. There was a patrol car slowly driving towards them.

"Act normally," Toby whispered, then smiled widely. "Fancy meeting here, Jimbo!"

"Toby, shut up," Claire whispered back.

And then the cops arrived, stopping right where they stood. The driver looked at them through the open window. "Are you lost, kids?"

"What? No, no," Jim replied. "We're just stretching our legs a little - we just arrived by bus."

"Oh?" The cop narrowed his eyes at them. "What brings you to Sunnydale?"

Wasn't that a weird question?

"We're looking at the college here to find out if we should move here after high school." Claire smiled at the cop. "Los Angeles is a little…" She shrugged. "My parents would be happier if I moved to a smaller town, and Sunnydale has the closest UC campus."

She's such a good actress! Jim's smile slipped a little, though, when he was, once again, reminded of the fact that Claire might leave for college.

"Ah." The cop was all smiles now. "Smart of you. We've got a campus, yes. You can take the bus; it goes there."

"Is it a good campus? You aren't called in for many incidents, are you?" Claire asked.

"Not any more than we're called for incidents at Sunnydale High," the other cop answered.

Jim noticed the driver glaring at his partner before turning back to them and smiling again. "It's a good campus. Frats do some stuff, but that's the same everywhere."

"Thank you, officer!" Claire beamed at them.

"You're not staying overnight, are you?"

"Oh, no!" Jim said. "We have to be home in the evening!"

"Good, good." The cop waved, and the patrol car left.

"That was… kind of weird?" Toby asked. "Am I the only one who feels like this was weird?"

"A little. On the other hand, we could've been runaways," Claire said. "The police might patrol the bus station for that."

Jim nodded in agreement. That sounded logical. He checked for witnesses, then pulled out the Divine Compass. "Now let's find the hammer!"


"'Deep below, in a magically sealed cave'?"

Jim could hear the smirk in Claire's voice. His friends really needed to work this out, whatever it was.

"Hey! We could still be headed towards the entrance to the cave system below the town," Toby told her. "It's just that it is hidden in plain sight."

"In the centre of the town?"

"Exactly!" Toby nodded. "The last place anyone would think to look! Just look how innocent everything appears - no one would think that this town was built above a Hellmouth!"

"No one visiting Arcadia Oaks would think it was built above Trollmarket, but that doesn't mean every shop is a front for Gunmar's allies," Claire replied.

"Are you comparing Trollmarket to a Hellmouth?"

"What? No! It was just an example to show that we can't just assume everything is a facade."

Jim would've rolled his eyes, but someone had to keep focused. And the Divine Compass wasn't exactly easy to use - the thing pointed at the hammer - at least he hoped it was pointing at the hammer - but that didn't mean it had a needle that pointed the way; the whole device was pulling into one direction, and keeping it from leaping out of his hands was a little tedious. Blinky claimed this was a traditional troll compass, but Jim was sure that people would stare if a contraption the size of half his head was floating through the central shopping avenue in Sunnydale.

Probably.

"The hammer could be hidden above ground," Claire speculated. "Perhaps in a bank vault."

"Those are underground," Toby told her.

"Just one floor," she said. "Not a sealed cave deep below."

Jim cleared his throat. "Could you keep it down a little?" he asked through clenched teeth. "I think we're getting closer - the pull is getting stronger."

"Oh! The entrance to the caves must be near!" Toby looked around. "See any bridges?"

"See any banks?" Claire shot back.

"See any… Magic Boxes?" Jim asked, staring at the shop in front of them.

"A magic shop?" Claire blinked. "It doesn't look like they're selling props for stage magicians."

Jim agreed.

"But they wouldn't be selling magical items and ingredients openly, would they?" Toby asked. "I mean… that would out every customer as a witch!"

"Being a witch isn't illegal in California," Claire told them.

"But still…" Toby shook his head. He lowered his voice. "Perhaps this is a trap? Any wanna-be witches who want to buy materials for spells enter - and they don't leave."

Jim didn't think his friend was right. People disappearing in the middle of town in broad daylight would surely catch attention, wouldn't it? On the other hand, selling actual, real magic stuff would also catch attention. Or was that a Hellmouth thing?

"They might be hiding in plain sight, catering to tourists and New Agers, and only sell the real magic… merchandise to those they know," Claire speculated.

That made sense. But Jim wasn't about to dismiss Toby's theory. "In any case, they've got the troll hammer in there." The compass was tugging at his grip quite strongly. He belatedly turned it off and stashed it in his backpack- it would be better not to enter the shop with a magical compass active. Especially if Toby wasn't too far off the mark.

"So… we just stroll in, pretending to be tourists, and look around until we find the hammer, then grab it and run like hell?" Toby asked. "Because if we do that, I have to remind you that I'm not too good at running."

Jim frowned. His friend wouldn't beat any speed record any time soon, but he had gotten better at sports. At least at running away. Still, it wouldn't be enough to get away from an angry shopkeeper. Especially not if they could curse you. "And we don't have bikes."

"We could get bikes," Toby suggested. "Getaway bikes, like in GTA. Only bikes instead of cars."

"You want to steal bicycles to steal the hammer?" Claire asked. "I can portal us away easily!"

"Yes," Jim said. "But we don't know the lay of the land here. We wouldn't know where we could safely hide and how to get back on the bus home without being seen. And if they have cameras in the shop…"

"Right. They would have cameras." Toby frowned. "We'll need masks. Oh, no - the cops already saw us! If we get spotted, there'll be a manhunt. Definitely needing masks!"

"I think they'll be able to identify us anyway if we check out the shop first, then return with masks on," Jim pointed out. "But more importantly, we can't get caught on camera doing magic."

"So we split up. One checks out the shop, the others get inside afterwards, grab the hammer, run out, around the corner, and poof! Portal away!" Toby said. "Fast in, fast out."

Toby really had played GTA a little too much, Jim thought.

"I don't think we should rob the place when the owners are present," Claire said. "If they have the hammer, they probably can do powerful magic."

Toby grimaced. "They could turn us into frogs! I don't wanna be a frog!"

"If they don't see us, they can't curse us," Jim reminded the others. "We'll have to sneak in after the shop closes, which will be…" He cocked his head and squinted. Opening hours until… ten at night? Did they serve vampires inside? Wait. They might actually do that. Shit.

"We can't wait so long," Claire said. "We'll have to be back at eight in Arcadia Oaks."

"Right. We need a better plan," Jim said. "Uh… return tomorrow, when the shop's closed?" He didn't like it, but they couldn't stay overnight. "That way we can scoop out the place today and look for cameras."

"Good idea," Toby agreed. And Claire was nodding as well.

"So, let's go. Remember: We're tourists looking for souvenirs," Jom told the others. "Harmless teenagers who have no idea about magic or monsters."

Toby and Claire nodded with firm expressions. Good. They could do this. They would do this.

Jim turned and started towards the shop's entrance, right behind a group of older men and women. But when he reached the door, the last of the men turned, closed the door in his face and flipped the 'open' sign to 'closed'.

What the hell?


"The shop's closing for today. Please leave the premises."

Buffy Summers clenched her teeth at the presumption of those jerks! This was Giles's shop. And her training room! The Council couldn't just close the shop! "Hey! You can't do that!"

"That's an outrage!" Anya, standing behind the register, obviously shared her opinion. "Who's going to reimburse us for the lost sales? Saturdays are prime shopping days!"

Travers - she remembered the creepy head of the Council - turned to look at her. "You know why we're here, Miss Summers. His is much more important than catering to shady practitioners and delusional tourists." He addressed one of the goons. "Nigel, see that the shop's empty of bystanders."

Buffy wanted to throw the lot of them out, as Giles would say, but if she did that, they would take their information about the skank demon and leave. So she clenched her teeth as the Council goons escorted the other customers out. She saw a group of teenagers outside, barely older than Dawn, all but pressing their noses against the window, and winced. That wouldn't help the shop's reputation.

"Quentin, that was unneeded, I'll say."

Giles had arrived! Buffy beamed at her Watcher.

"On the contrary. We can't do business with an audience around. We're on a Hellmouth - anyone here could be a spy for our enemies," the old man retorted. He looked around. "I do hope that you're keeping track of any suspicious purchases."

"Of course," Giles replied, very stiffly. Like the time Buffy had asked him how to clean soda from a book. Which had been a purely hypothetical question. Mostly, anyway.

"Good." Travers looked around again, frowning - sneering - when he spotted the broken parts.

"We had a troll attack," Giles told him.

"I beat the troll, and we sealed him back in his dimension," Buffy added with a toothy smile. "We've already called on a carpenter to fix stuff."

"We have?" Anya asked. "I hope you don't mean Xander; his arm hasn't yet healed. If he can't use both hands to give me orgasm, then he can't repair the shop yet, either."

"Anya! That was far too much information! Of a personal nature, I mean!" Giles started furiously polishing his glasses whale the Council goons tittered and tattered or whatever.

"What? It's true!" Anya retorted. "I mean, his penis still works perfectly, as does his tongue, but the foreplay suffered. You should know that if you were having sex!"

Buffy closed her eyes and tried not to kill Anya. Or to blurt out that she hadn't hired the former demon. Her review wasn't off to a good start, that was sure.