Chapter 10: The Season Part 5
California, Los Angeles, Hollywood, December 14th, 2007
"Guys!" Chuck yelled - but everyone else was already moving as slimes flowed through bars and cages swung open, releasing more monsters. A kick from Faith shattered the molten head of the closest construct, sending it reeling while she whirled around, grabbed a chair and hurled it into a half-slime something that was oozing down a table. Casey and Sarah were falling back towards the door, weapons ready but not firing.
"Chuck!"
Right. He quickly joined them before he could end as slime food - or collateral damage of Faith's attack; she had already pulverised a table.
And she seemed to enjoy it - as Chuck took cover behind the spies, he saw the Slayer grin ferally. "Don't worry!" she yelled as she crushed a 'core' of a construct with her bare hands, "I'll be finished in no time!"
True to her words, the construct collapsed and started to melt, joining the others already reduced to puddles on the floor. Growing puddles, Chuck noticed. "Uh…"
Faith shattered another core, and the slime puddle grew even more - covering half the floor now.
Chuck blinked. If that slime was adhesive or poisoned… Or, he added as he watched a table leg starting to sink into the puddle, dissolving as it did so, acidic… "Faith! Watch the slime on the floor! It dissolves stuff!"
"What? Fuck!" Faith leapt on the next table and used a roundhouse-kick to fling another construct into a wall.
Casey muttered a curse next to him and backed off further, pushing Chuck towards the stairs. Chuck slid around. He had to observe.
"Chuck! Be careful!" Sarah said, joining him.
He quickly calculated a few things. There were about half a dozen slime-constructs in various stages left. And more than half the floor was covered in slime already. If Faith finished all of them off, then the entire floor would be covered. That would make getting to the safe complicated. "We might have to get climbing gear," he told the others, "if we want to crack that safe."
Nearby, a metal pole started to tilt, then crashed into the slime, the bottom half-dissolved already.
"And we need to do it right now!" Chuck blurted out. "The slime's dissolving metal too. If it starts on the safe… Or we can use the stones from the garden as stepping stones! The slime doesn't dissolve stone! Easier to use than the climbing gear."
"They're too heavy," Casey objected.
"I can carry them!" Fatih yelled, crushing another core. "But it'll be a close call. Fuckers are stubborn!"
"Let's get the climbing gear now - she can fetch stones once she's done," Sarah said.
Casey was already pulling out… a crossbow? Modern model, Chuck noticed. And a grappling hook - of course!
A moment later, the agent had it aimed and fired, and bolt appeared in the back wall, above the safe, with a line fastened to it. Three seconds and a grunt as Casey recocked the crossbow later, a second bolt trailing a line joined the first.
And Sarah was about to finish fastening her climbing harness.
Chuck clenched his teeth.
Sarah finished getting ready, watching as Lehane smashed another construct, then had to jump off a toppling table and perch on a slowly sinking shelf while the last two constructs ambled - or flowed, in the case of the legless one - towards her. "Almost done!" the Slayer yelled.
And the way to the safe was clear - more or less. Sarah took a deep breath and hooked her harness to the lines Casey had secured.
"Sarah…" Chuck trailed off.
She looked at him and smiled. "We can't wait for the Slayer to finish and then get the rocks down here." She didn't need to be a genius to calculate how fast the slime ate through metal.
"I heard that!" Faith yelled, then launched herself into a jump-kick, smashing a construct's head, propelling herself into the air once more and landing with both booted feet on the second, flattening its upper half.
"Be careful," Chuck said, biting his lips.
She nodded, hesitated a moment, then grabbed him for a quick kiss. "You too," she whispered. Then she hooked herself to the lines and pushed off, sliding along the line towards the safe. She had to pull up her legs to avoid touching the growing pool of slime on the ground, but only for a second or two before she hit the wall, feet first.
She spent a second checking the bolts that held the lines, then used her harness to descend, upside down, towards the safe's door. Below her, the slime was already lapping against the safe's base.
No pressure, she thought with a grin and started to work on the lock. Which was, she discovered to her dismay, a little more sophisticated than the locks on the doors. Not impossible to pick, of course - far from it.
But, she added to herself, holding a small flashlight in her teeth as she started to work, with the safe already beginning to tilt as part of its base was being dissolved, it might take time she didn't have.
Chuck bit his lips until he tasted blood. The safe was now imitating the Tower of Pisa, and Sarah was still - hanging upside down - working on its lock. In the other corner of the room, Faith was finishing the last construct by ramming a wrecked chair through its core. The construct collapsed, and Chuck could see it dissolve into slime as the pieces sunk into the pool on the floor.
"Hurry!" he yelled. "Get the rocks from the garden!"
"Yeah, yeah!" the Slayer snapped as she jumped off a sinking table, landed on the remains of a shelf - which her boots smashed into the slime - and jumped off again before the slime could touch her. She twisted in the air, hit the wall - not quite running - and jumped off again in a display of athletics rarely seen outside video games and Hong Kong movies, landing next to Chuck and Casey. "Be right back!" she snapped - and she was gone.
And Chuck was back to watching Sarah and worrying. The safe was tilting even more now, any moment it would topple, crushing Sarah. "We should drop something heavy on the backside of the safe's roof," he said. "Make it stop tilting forward. Gain some time." The added weight pressing down on the safe wouldn't do much to speed up the sinking, would it?
"Yeah, we'll just wiggle our noses and blink, and teleport an anvil over, right?" Casey, watching the ropes, scoffed.
"It was just an idea," Chuck defended himself. Perhaps Faith could drop the first rock… "Faith! She can drop a rock in front of the safe, and stop the tilting!"
"And block the safe's door," Casey retorted.
"Uh…"
"Walker's a skilled spy; she knows what she's doing," Casey added in a whisper.
Chuck blinked. That had sounded almost… The NSA agent wasn't looking at him, but Chuck smiled at him anyway.
For a moment. Then a curse from Sarah made him whirl around. She was swinging from her harness, apparently having pushed off the safe - which was now slowly tilting forward. "Sarah!"
"Almost!" she spat, swinging forward and grabbing the handle on the safe again.
Chuck held his breath. The safe would topple over any moment now…
Sarah wriggled something in the lock, then put her boot against the tilting safe's frame and pulled the door open.
But that was too much for the safe - it fell over - until the open door hit the ground and stopped the fall. And Sarah lowered herself further, and almost crawled inside the safe.
"No!" Chuck yelled. The door was already melting in the slime. All it did was slowing the collapse.
Next to him, Casey cursed.
"Sarah!"
She wasn't listening. She would become trapped inside the safe, the slime would reach her if she wasn't crushed first…
"Sarah!"
"Holy shit!" Faith was back, carrying a huge rock - as big as Chuck's torso.
"Can you throw it and block the safe from toppling?" Chuck asked.
"Fuck, no!" Faith cursed, dropping the stone about two yards from the stairs into the slime. Then she stared at Sarah.
Chuck was about to yell at her to get the next rock when the door suddenly slipped, and the entire safe followed it.
"Sarah!" Chuck yelled as Faith jumped on the rock in front of them.
But in the last second, Sarah managed to push off and back, her foot almost getting caught by the safe's frame as she swung back, dangling from her harness inches above the slime.
And Chuck started to breathe again.
"She's got a book!" Faith announced, but he didn't care. All he cared was that Sarah was safe.
"There was only one book inside the safe that looked old enough," Sarah said as she reached them, patting the bag dangling from her hips which - supposedly contained the tome.
Chuck didn't even bother looking; he moved to hug her. "Don't do that again!" he whispered. "I almost died watching you."
"She almost died doing it," Faith said. "Now stop hugging and let's see if you got the right book."
As it turned out, it was the correct book.
Chuck still didn't care.
California, Burbank, Wienerlicious, December 14th, 2007
"So, Morty was the cultist leader… or the cultist Frankenstein. Or both."
"Martini," Dawn corrected Buffy.
The Slayer glared at her. "Anyway, Marky made those constructs. And had the book in his safe. And with his body being slime-food in the lair below, that's one loose end tied off already," she declared. "Good work, spies!"
"I was there as well," Faith added from the counter, where she was emptying an entire bottle of ketchup on a stack of half a dozen hot dogs.
Chuck cleared his throat. "Shouldn't we have this talk below? In The Castle, not the lair." People would notice them. Had noticed them, actually - a security guard had come by but had left after being told this was a private party.
"And get ketchup stains all over your carpet?" Dawn shook her head. "The general's been mad enough at us already."
"We don't actually have a carpet there, do we?" Chuck asked. He didn't remember there being a carpet.
"I didn't mean literally. But you know how messy hungry Slayers are," Dawn went on. "They'll get condiments all over your shiny computers."
"Uh." Chuck winced, then nodded. That was a good reason to feed the Slayers in Sarah's store.
"Hey!"
"Let's get on with the debriefing," Casey snapped. And, wonder of wonders, the bickering stopped. Although with lots of pouting.
"Shouldn't Willow be here for that?" Chuck asked.
"She's renewing the sealing spell," Buffy explained. "Xander and Caridad are covering her."
"Oh." Chuck frowned. Was that within the expected intervals, or was the frequency increasing? More than anticipated?
"Relax," Dawn told him before he could work it out. "We got plenty of time to study the book and figure out how to banish the Lord of Slimey back to his home dimension."
"Wouldn't want to have Spygirl here have risked her life and Chuck's sanity for nothing," Faith added - apparently having finished her hotdogs already.
"I'm not 'Spygirl'," Sarah said with a glare.
Faith chuckled and sat on the counter, letting her legs dangle. "You're the only female spy here. And spy-woman sounds like a Marvel character."
"Oh! Xander's been rubbing off on you?" Dawn cut in. "You sound like an expert!"
The Slayer glared at her while Buffy snickered. "You can't not pick stuff up around him."
"Mhh."
Faith rolled her eyes and jumped down. "Anyway. My job's done. You don't need me for the reading and studying stuff. I got the hungry taken care of. That leaves the horny." She grinned at Casey. "You up for some fun, spyboy? Or getting cold feet?"
Casey bared his teeth at the Slayer. "I'm always up for fun."
"Let's go then. Your flat. Unless you want to do it on the fancy spy table below."
"My apartment."
Chuck sighed as the two walked out. There would have been no way for Mr Macho to turn that offer down. Not the way Faith had asked. But Caridad wouldn't like it. Not at all.
"She's not exactly thinking much," Dawn said. "Not right after a fight." She shrugged with a sigh. "She doesn't mean anything by it."
That wasn't much of a consolation, of course. On the other hand, Casey was single. And it wasn't as if Caridad had indicated any interest beyond Faith's desire for some fun without ties. You couldn't exactly claim dibs on people, after all. Well, some tried, but they usually grew past that after high school. Chuck sighed. "So, all we have to do now is to wait?"
"More or less," Buffy said. "And celebrate your successful mission, of course! Drinks and food on the house!" she added with a beaming smile.
Sarah cleared her throat.
"Oops."
"Well done, Buffy. Offer the spy-lady her own food and drink?" Dawn sighed. "Please excuse my sister. She doesn't think at all."
"Hey!"
"...and then we heard the mission was a success and aborted our own," Morgan finished his explanation. "And here we are!"
"The curator was receptive to our proposal in general, but grew, understandably, suspicious when young Mr Grimes asked for immediate access to the museum's recently acquired collection," Phil added.
"It wouldn't have done us any good if we had been allowed to help catalogue it a week from now," Morgan defended himself. "Besides, it all worked out!"
"We might have found other dangerous or valuable tomes," Phil retorted. "The late Mr Graves was a known collector of the occult."
"He was named 'Graves'? That's, like, almost a sure sign of badness," Buffy said.
"You can't judge people after their names, Buffy," Dawn said.
"Of course I can - it works more often than not! And hey! Everyone judges me for my name!"
"Only until they know you."
"Right." Buffy nodded.
"Then they judge you for your character - or lack thereof."
"Hey! Says Miss Sarcasm 2007!"
"Yes."
Fortunately, Willow, who looked like she had just run five miles under the sun at noon in summer, Xander and Caridad's return broke up the latest intra-sister conflict before it escalated to either a food fight or name-calling.
Unfortunately, Caridad sniffed the air, looked around, then at the door to the secret passage leading to the Castle.
"They went home," Buffy answered her unspoken question with a grimace. "Mr Spy's home."
Chuck could see Caridad clench her teeth. And he wasn't quite certain that the crunching sound was just his imagination.
"Please tell us how the renewing of the spell went, dear," Phil said. "I believe Miss Rosenberg is set on starting her research immediately."
"Oh, yes! You found the book, then? Great!"
"You just have to get it away from Dawn without her biting you," Buffy said.
"Funny," Dawn replied. "Very funny."
"It should be."
"Settle down! We've got research to do!" Willow looked better - but Xander was hovering near her and Dawn's table, so that was probably just her enthusiasm pushing her.
Well, the Scoobies could handle that, Chuck knew. But that left Caridad.
"We went down to the lair, and Willow did her thing. No demons or other threats were around, and I didn't smell anyone else either. Then we came back," she said in a flat voice. "I'll go patrolling now."
She was out of the door without waiting for a response. Chuck almost pitied the demons out and about.
California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, December 15th, 2007
It was past midnight when they arrived home, and Chuck was feeling a weird mix of exhaustion and restlessness. Or nervousness. Perhaps some guilt, too, even though he hadn't done anything wrong. And a lot of relief and worry whenever he thought of Sarah risking her life.
At least Ellie and Devon were asleep already, and Casey… Better not go there, he thought. Casey would be with Faith. Busy. And Caridad would be prowling the city for demons to kill, to vent her anger.
"Will Caridad be alright?" Sarah asked as they entered the apartment, as if she'd read his thoughts.
"What?" He blinked.
"She seemed quite upset when she stormed out. That's not a good state to be in when fighting."
"Oh." Sarah was right - Caridad might be too reckless tonight. He drew a breath through his teeth. "Well, most demons will be hiding. Most dangerous demons. News of the Scoobies' presence has made the rounds, so the smarter demons will have left or gone to ground." So he hoped, at least.
"And the demons who think this is a good opportunity to attack?" Sarah asked. "The slime cultists weren't particularly scared."
"Uh…" He sighed and sat down on their bed. "There shouldn't be any such demons left in a city with a resident Slayer?" He caught her expression and winced. There wasn't much they could do but hope for the best.
Just as Chuck hadn't been able to do anything earlier.
Sarah started to get ready for bed. Usually, that was a sight Chuck enjoyed very much. But today? He couldn't help thinking of the safe falling on her, trapping her, crushing her… while he was watching, helplessly.
"What's wrong?" Sarah suddenly asked.
Right, she was a trained spy. Noticing things was what she did. Like risking her life. He sighed again. "Will it always be like today? Being a spy, I mean."
"You mean risking your life?"
"More like watching you risk yours," he replied.
"Ah."
He didn't like the way she paused. Not at all.
"Sometimes," she went on. "Not every time."
"But often enough." He pressed his lips together.
"It's part of the job," she told him. "Spying is dangerous."
"It's not the danger I mind," he replied. "It's the feeling of being helpless. Useless."
"You're not," she said, frowning at him.
"I know. Intellectually, that is." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I know that I - or, rather, the guest in my head - can help you. But it doesn't feel like it, you know?"
"Casey and Lehane could only watch either," she said. "There wasn't enough room for two to work on the safe."
"That doesn't help," he said.
"Being a spy means you'll have to sit back and wait - or watch - as others risk their lives," Sarah said. She was smiling, if a little sadly, but her tone was firm, or so he thought. "You can't do everything by yourself." She slid into the bed and under the covers.
"I know." He didn't sound petulant. Not really. But he didn't know if he could bear it.
He did know, though, that he couldn't bear losing Sarah.
California, Burbank, The Castle, December 15th, 2007
"We need more M72s," Casey said. "And more grenades."
"And an M2!" Summers yelled from the 'temporary dorm area", as the part of the base where the Scoobies on duty were sleeping - or sleeping on duty, as Harris called it - was called. By Harris, of course.
Sarah rolled her eyes.
"And a Barret!" the blonde Slayer added. "And a minigun!"
"A minigun for a mini-Slayer?" Dr Summers had to add, apparently.
"Says Dr Beanpole."
Sarah tuned them out. "Headquarters won't like delivering so much ordnance without a detailed report," she said.
"They do it all the time," Casey replied. "Classified mission, end of story."
"This time, the general herself doesn't know about it," Sarah pointed out. That meant bureaucrats would be encouraged to use whatever leverage they could get to gather information.
Casey didn't try to defend Beckman, He grunted. "They still will have to restock or armoury."
"Eventually," Sarah replied.
"If they drag their feet too long, we can go through the Council," Casey said.
Sarah looked at him and raised her eyebrows. After a moment, he frowned and glanced towards the locker area. Both of them knew the Slayers present would hear whatever they said.
That made discussing how they were relying more and more on the Council awkward. And they had to discuss it. They were planning to join anyway, but Sarah didn't like getting manipulated. And she doubted that Casey liked it any better.
She finished filling out the requisition forms, changed into her waitress uniform, then headed upstairs. It was time to open the store.
Caridad was already there, heating up the grill, Sarah noticed when she entered Wienerlicious. The Slayer's scowl only slightly lessened when she saw Sarah. "Morning."
"Good morning," Sarah replied.
Caridad grumbled something Sarah didn't catch and didn't think she needed to know. "Any progress on the banishing?" the Slayer asked after a moment.
Sarah shook her head. "Not that I've heard." She hadn't expected any, either. Rosenberg had been very tired, after all.
Caridad huffed. "They should hurry."
Sarah couldn't help thinking that the Slayer was more concerned about the Scoobies leaving the city as soon as possible than about banishing the Lord of Slime.
Caridad huffed again, then sighed and put the first batch of hot dog on the grill. Sarah was about to point out that they wouldn't need that many hot dogs at this time in the morning - they wouldn't open for fifteen more minutes, and they hadn't many customers who wanted a hot dog for breakfast. Then she remembered that Caridad wasn't cooking for customers.
Nor was the Slayer cooking for herself. Less than a minute after she had started grilling sausages, Summers appeared in the storage room, sniffing the air as if she were a dog. "Oh! That smells yummy!" A moment later, she was standing at the grill. "I'll have two with everything!"
"Those are for me," Caridad snarled. "Wait your turn!"
"Hey!" Summers shied away, raising her hands. "Didn't you have breakfast already?"
Caridad's answer was a growl.
Sarah was tempted to hand out some desserts as snacks but decided against it. That might only prompt the Slayers to raid the fridge as well as the hot dog supplies. If they weren't already doing it. Sarah frowned, then went to check the fridge. And then fetched the forms to order more ice cream.
She was still sitting at her and Chuck's break table, filling out the forms - and calculating how much of her budget this would take, and how she could explain that to the general without getting accused of graft - when Grimes entered the store.
"Wow! Did you guys see what Caridad did to Caritas? Oh, hi, Caridad! Impressive work, there."
"Uh… thanks."
The Slayer didn't exactly look proud, Sarah noticed.
"You burned Caritas down again?" Summers exclaimed after swallowing her third or fourth hotdog. "Without telling us?"
"I didn't burn it down!" Caridad replied. "I just had a fight inside."
"But the club's closed for a week!" Grimes said, smiling widely. "You must have completely wrecked the furniture!"
"I only put a bouncer through the stage when they interfered with my investigation. The rest were just tables and chairs. And the wet bar."
"You wrecked Caritas? Without telling us?" Harris was standing in the door to the storage room.
"Don't make it sound as if you wanted in!" That was Rosenberg. "It's important to encourage demons to peacefully integrate into society. Caritas is a good first step, even if it isn't - or wasn't? - perfect." She pushed past Harris to glare at Caridad. "Really, I found that Lorne is perfectly reasonable if you talk to him."
"That's because you're Willow. Everyone's reasonable if you ask," Harris said. "Also, if the bar's still standing, then you didn't win the pool."
"You bet on Caritas's destruction?" Grimes asked. "After telling Caridad off for busting a few demons?"
"I started the betting pool, and I put down the rule that if you wrecked the bar, you couldn't profit from it. That way, Buffy wouldn't go and start trouble there," Rosenberg said. She was blushing a little, though.
"You still expected it to get wrecked," Harris pointed out.
"I was only being realistic," the witch replied.
"Sure you were, you little bookie, you!" Harris grinned.
"Willow! Gambling! Betting money on others' misfortune! I'm shocked!" Summers claimed with a gasp.
"Hey! You were the first to place a bet!"
"I trusted you to keep everything above board!"
"She's sneaky. Always was. Did I ever tell you how she sabotaged our third-grade teacher's lesson, then framed Cordy for it?" Harris chuckled.
"I had to! She was teaching from an outdated book! And Cordy was mean!" Rosenberg defended herself.
"You're claiming self-defence?" Summers shook her head.
"Defence of others! I had already read the correct book."
"And so you made them read a second book? That's assault! Or torture!"
"That was your fault?" Grimed chimed in. "I'm still traumatised!"
"Hey! That was over ten years ago!"
"That we still remember it should tell you how traumatic it was!"
Sarah shook her head at the Scoobies' antics. She'd seen worse, of course, from other spies or some soldiers - or marks.
And she took note of the fact that none of the Scoobies mentioned Faith and Casey. Or teased Caridad.
California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, December 15th, 2007
Chuck was wheezing like an old man when they neared their home. At least it was winter - if he were doing this in summer, he'd probably be dead. Of course, winter wouldn't last forever, so he could only hope that he would be in better shape in a few months.
"Let's slow down," Sarah said.
"No!" he protested. "Let's… fin…ish… this!" he managed to say.
"You're about to collapse."
"I… can… do…"
"Ellie will kill me if she sees you like this," she interrupted him.
No - his sister would kill him. He slowed down. And sat down. "I was always a good runner. I let myself go," he said after a minute when he had recovered his breath.
"You're a sprinter, not a long-distance runner."
That was true. If things went wrong in Sunnydale, you either managed to reach a safe place quickly or not at all. "I guess so…"
"You also doubled our normal distance."
"We've been doing this for a while," he said. "Time to step it up, right?" He looked at her. She wasn't exhausted, but she was covered in sweat. And she looked beautiful. He was probably smiling like an idiot.
"That means adding a little, not doubling." She smiled at him and sat down as well. "So… what brought this on?"
Uh. "Why did you let me double the distance, then?" he asked instead of answering her question.
"So you'd learn to listen to me."
"I always listen to you!" he protested.
"Not when you're set on something," she replied. She was still smiling, though. "Which isn't always a bad thing," she admitted. "But when it comes to training?" She shook her head. "I know how to train."
"And I don't." He sighed.
"You don't. But you usually don't overdo it either."
Her smile had faded a little. And she was not quite frowning at him, but would soon enough - he knew that expression. Sighing again, he looked away before answering: "I need to step up my training."
"Why?"
"I didn't do anything against the slime lord. Couldn't do anything," he added. "You had to help me over the wall. You picked the locks - and I had to watch you almost get crushed and trapped in a pool of acidic slime." The entire city was in danger, and he couldn't do anything.
"You did help us getting the information we needed to find the book."
"You could have done that without me," he said. "Anyone could have played my role."
"No one is irreplaceable. And you did well."
He scoffed. "I don't feel like I did well."
"You're still learning." She patted his shoulder, then squeezed it.
"Not fast enough," he said. He almost shrugged her hand off, but that would have been childish. Instead, he put his hand on hers.
"You'll get there - as long as you don't overdo it, and get yourself hurt."
"I know." He hoped so, at least. "It won't be fun until I'm not just dead weight and a computer search algorithm."
She snorted at that, and he smiled. "Chuck, you are doing great work with data analysing. Spies in training don't get to do missions at all. You're already pulling your weight."
It wasn't true, but it was nice of her to say so. He nodded anyway. "I'm not dying any more. Let's go back?"
"Let's."
They walked - slowly - home, after a few stretching exercises. Chuck knew he'd be in pain the next day anyway, though he was fine right now. Which was enough.
But when they reached their street, Sarah tensed up. "Someone's hiding in the bushes ahead," she whispered.
Uh oh. Chuck couldn't see anyone, but he trusted her.
"Keep walking," she went on. A glance told him that she had drawn one of her knives hidden in her belt bag. "But stop and tie your shoelaces at the tree there."
That would provide him with cover against most guns, Chuck knew. But it also meant he'd stay safe while Sarah would rush in. Again.
But he had no choice - she was counting on him not doing something stupid.
So he knelt behind the tree and announced. "Just a second! Have to tie my laces!" While Sarah used the cover to get into the bushes herself.
Chuck waited a few seconds. Sarah would reach the assassin at any moment...
"Chuck?"
He blinked. That was… "Devon?"
He peered around the tree. Yes, there was Captain Awesome, smiling at him. And behind him, hidden in the bushes and looking at Chuck as if this was his fault, was Sarah.
"Chuck! I was waiting for you! You took longer than usual for your run."
"Uh, yes. We took a longer route. You know, gradually increasing the distance."
"Already? Good for you! Ellie will be so proud! We can start running together soon!" He looked around. "Wasn't Sarah with you?"
"Uh…" Chuck glanced behind Devon, but Sarah had disappeared into the bushes again. "She had to, uh…"
"I thought I saw a cat in the bushes," Sarah announced as she reappeared to Chuck's left. "Hi, Devon."
"Hi, Sarah!" Devon looked around. "Uh… mind if I take Chuck for a moment? I have to discuss something with him. In private."
"Of course now," Sarah said. "I'll go look for the cat again, then."
Which meant she'd be keeping an eye on them. But as long as Devon didn't know that, and didn't realise how close he had come to getting beat up - or worse - by a trained spy, it was fine. Or so Chuck hoped.
"So… what's up?"
"Ah." Devon looked actually nervous, Chuck noticed. "Is something wrong?"
"Wrong? No, no." Devon shook his head. "I just… You know, you're the man in the family, right?"
Chuck blinked. What did…
"So, I'm asking you for the hand of your sister."
"He wants to marry Ellie." An hour later, back home, Chuck was still struggling with the news.
Sarah, of course, had adapted very quickly. "They've been living together for years. I would have thought you'd have expected this."
And she was probably getting a little tired of his reaction, Chuck realised. He sighed and leaned back on the couch, not even watching the tv. It was a rerun anyway. "I know I should have," he admitted. "In hindsight, well… yes. But things haven't changed much since I moved into this apartment after… Stanford." Remembering his expulsion still hurt. Even after knowing Bryce's reasons - if those hadn't been a lie. He sighed. "Nothing really changed, actually."
She leaned against him. "And nothing will change. They'll keep living together in the apartment next door. The only thing that'll change is that they'll be wearing rings, and Ellie might change her name."
He looked at her, frowning. Not that she could see his face since her head was resting on his shoulder and she was looking at the screen. Marriage was supposed to be a big change in your life. A commitment to a partner. A symbol. Something that mattered more than sharing an apartment. And… "Kids."
"What?" She pulled away and looked at him.
"They'll have kids. Probably. I think. That's what happens when you marry. Well, unless you're a rich old man marrying a twenty-something model. Then it's a divorce. Sometimes after they have a kid or two."
She laughed at that. "Kids with their schedules? Can you see either Ellie or Devon stop working?"
He gasped. "You're right. They'll want us to babysit."
She started to laugh again, then stopped. "You're joking."
He shook his head.
"They can't expect us to babysit," she insisted - though she sounded doubtful. A rare occurrence.
He grimaced. "Did I ever tell you why Ellie's pet rabbit started following me around in her senior year in Sunnydale?" Until one morning, only some bloodstains were left in the broken cage in the backyard, but that was neither here nor there.
Sarah sighed. "You had to take care of it while she studied so she would get the grades needed for a scholarship."
Of course she'd know that. He nodded. "She said if I had time to raise animals in games, I could take care of a real animal as well."
"Great."
Well, at least she was sharing his worries now. "Well, if Ellie hears that Devon asked me for her hand in marriage before he asked her, there might not be a wedding," he said. Ellie wasn't fond of sexist traditions, as Willow would put it, and she would probably never stop thinking of Chuck as her little brother in need of some mothering.
They had a short laugh about that.
California, Burbank, Wienerlicious, December 16th, 2007
Willow was looking exhausted again, Chuck noticed when he entered Wienerlicious for his mid-morning break. "Renewed the spell?" he whispered as he approached the counter.
"Yes," Caridad answered from the grill, her Slayer hearing easily picking up his question. She was looking angry, so Casey and Faith were probably back. Or not. Same result, either way.
Chuck tried to calculate if the frequency of renewals was increasing, but he didn't know how much time had passed since the last time Willow had had to renew the spell.
Or how many coffees she'd had - there were half a dozen empty cups on her table. Wait a minute. Willow and coffee? "Did she drink all of these?"
"It's decaf," Caridad whispered.
"And she hasn't noticed?" he whispered back.
"Of course she did, but she's acting as if she didn't so the placebo effect will kick in."
"I don't think that's how it works," he said.
"We're all just waiting for her to fall asleep so Buffy can tuck her in and Dawn can keep working on the anti-slime ritual," Caridad explained.
"Ah." He looked around
"Sarah's downstairs. Paperwork."
Spy paperwork, then. He nodded.
"You're early," Caridad said.
He knew what she meant - Sarah usually was around when he arrived - and shrugged. "They're still fixing stuff in the Buy More, so I took an early break." Before Big Mike tried to make him supervise the repairmen. That wasn't his job, and anyone could check if they tried to steal stuff. Well, given the theft rates, not all of the staff could, but Chuck had assigned one of the more dependable staff members to that job. The stock in the broken shelves was already written off, anyway.
"There!"
He turned, but there was no sign of Sarah. Ah. Willow had fallen asleep. And there was Sarah, wearing her waitress uniform, coming out of the storage room behind Buffy.
He smiled at her. Until he realised that her smile looked rather forced. "Uh… did anything happen?" he asked while Buffy carried Willow downstairs and they reclaimed their break table.
"Beckman called," Sarah said, ignoring Buffy's 'General Grumpypants!'. "She told me that a new agent has been assigned to the station."
Oh. "Uh… when will they arrive?"
"Tomorrow."
"What?" That would complicate matters. "What's the agent's name?" he asked.
"Kirsten Bane." Her voice was dripping with scorn.
He flashed.