When Buffy entered the Magic Box the next day after school, she was surprised – although in truth she shouldn't have been – to find Rowan there with Giles, Willow, Anya and Tara. The quartet was standing around Willow who had her laptop open on the study table.
"Hey, Buffy," Rowan greeted her and stepped over to meet her on the stairs to the lower level. "So, how did it go with Ripley afterwards?"
"Why do you insist on calling him anything but his own name?" Buffy demanded and crossed her arms.
"Maybe it's a character flaw," Rowan winked at her. "He just rubs me the wrong way."
"Forgetting your personal issues for now, what happened after you left?" Buffy asked as they made their way to where the rest of the crew were gathered around Willow.
"I led them in a merry chase around the woods for a while," Rowan shrugged. "Until I got bored and went back to the mansion. But wait, this should interest you. Willow made a major discovery last night."
"Willow?" Buffy asked in slight surprise.
"Hi, Buffy," Willow smiled up at her. "Yes, so, I managed to hack into the Initiative and got access to Dr Walsh's files. Some of the data is incomplete but there's a huge amount of information about her research, and..."
"Adam?" Buffy interrupted.
"Yes," Willow nodded. "It's mostly very technical. Dr Walsh really was an almost unparalleled genius in her field... sorry, digressing. So, anyway, I'm fairly sure I can decipher at least something useful about Adam from these files. But..."
"But?"
Willow grimaced. "I'm pretty sure Adam found out I'm onto him. Someone really adept tried to block me constantly and finally just cut the hard-line."
"But what you got was definitely the real thing, right?" Buffy asked for confirmation.
"Oh, yes," Willow nodded enthusiastically. "I went for the stuff that had been updated or modified most recently. There was definitely more, much more, but – as it is – I don't think a second try like this would be wise."
"Try like this?" Buffy asked carefully, knowing her best friend too well. She knew Willow had something else, something the Witch wasn't sure she wanted to hear.
"Well, there's a thingy called a 'Trojan horse'," Willow explained somewhat hesitantly. "Someone would have to smuggle a specially prepared floppy into the Initiative and insert it into a workstation without anyone noticing. Before you came in, we discussed this option, and..."
"And I volunteered to be captured with the diskette magically hidden in my person," Rowan completed the explanation.
"What!?" Buffy burst out. "Did you get brain damage last night? Absolutely out of the question."
"Why not?" Rowan asked, surprised by Buffy's vehement stance. "It's an acceptable sacrifice."
"Acceptable?" Buffy almost shrieked. "Now, listen here, mister..."
"I'll do it," a voice from the backroom door silenced everyone.
"Spike?" Buffy managed to ask after having picked up her jaw from the floor.
Everyone watched in silence as the still slightly smoking vampire tossed his protective blanket into a corner and confidently stepped over to the study table. Sitting down in an empty chair, he flipped his feet onto the tabletop and crossed his fingers behind his head.
"But it's gonna cost you," he winked cockily at Giles who started practically spluttering at the suggestion.
Spike kept his outward demeanour calm as the Slayer and her pet demon sat down opposite him at the table.
"Short on cash, Spike?" Buffy asked sarcastically.
"Well... I get a kick out of jacking up those army ginks," Spike grinned and turned his eyes up to the ceiling. "But a monetary gratification is something I also happen to be seeking."
"And the going rate of your services happens to be...?" Rowan asked flatly.
"Hey, the Slayer and I are discussing business here," Spike snapped and then turned to address Buffy directly. "He stays out of this or the deal's off."
He watched outwardly calm as Pretty Boy first narrowed his eyes dangerously and then exchanged a silent look with the Slayer. This was the key moment.
"Fine," Spike nodded and started to stand up. "If you're not interested."
"Sit down, Spike," Buffy snapped irritably and then turned to face her companion at the table. "It's ok, I've got this."
'Here it comes,' Spike thought gleefully, anticipating the inevitable conflict.
A few hours previously he had gotten one hell of shock for an awakening when the huge monstrosity, Adam, stood next to the sarcophagus on top of which he had been enjoying a peaceful nap. The quid pro quo deal the creature had offered him after some initial... unpleasantness was just too good to pass. It had its risks, but the overall benefits would give him everything he desired.
The chip out of his head and a dead Slayer – maybe other dead bodies on the side. Oh, what fun...
Spike frowned slightly when the demon just silently stood up and nodded for Rupert to take his place. He exchanged a few words with the two Witches and then left the shop without further ceremony. Spike wasn't quite sure whether that counted as a win or not.
"You've learned to keep your minions on a short leash, Slayer," he nodded approvingly. "I'm impressed."
"Shut up, Spike," Buffy growled threateningly. "And you'd better start giving me something tangible before I shove you out of that door."
"Easy there, Summers," Spike drawled and leaned back in his chair. "But I'll humour you. I was stuck in that hole, remember? And I've heard things from other guys who've gotten out. I can get in and out without any alarms. Plus... no waiting."
When the Slayer just sat there calmly, he knew he'd definitely scored a win.
Outside the Magic Box Rowan immediately spotted Xander who was pacing back and forth on the sidewalk opposite the store looking distressed.
"Everything alright, Xander?" he asked after having crossed the street.
His fellow Scooby was clearly startled by his voice and almost stumbled before he caught his balance again.
"Oh, hi," Xander greeted him, sounding like he was far away. "I was just..."
"Have you been here long?"
"I dunno," Xander shrugged. "Half-an-hour or so."
"Why didn't you come inside?" Rowan asked with a slight frown. This was very unlike Xander.
"I was going to, but I didn't know how to..." He deflated visibly. "I got fired, ok."
"From your bartending job?" Rowan asked in surprise.
"Yeah," Xander sighed. "The owner somehow found out I'd lied about my age. He also said he'd be withholding any back pay in exchange for not reporting me to the authorities."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Rowan offered sincerely and threw his arm over Xander's shoulder. "But why are you trying to wear the asphalt out? Is it Anya?"
"Yeah," Xander nodded, holding his eyes low. "I know she'll be disappointed in me, and I don't know how to handle it."
"You'll have to tell her sooner or later. I'm sure you're making yourself feel much worse than her eventual reaction ever could. But..." Rowan squeezed his friend's shoulder. "If you'd rather it was a bit later, let's go find some liquid courage for you."
"Huh?" Xander blinked as Rowan picked up his Aviators from his shirt pocket and put them on.
"Buy you a drink?"
Xander let out a long breath and then straightened his back. "Fuck it. Let's do it. It'll be like good old times."
The basement bar a few blocks away from the Magic Box was totally unremarkable as it came to the interior. It was quite small – only seven tables, each of which with four chairs. A jukebox stood in the far corner and the rest of the space was dominated by the L-shaped bar desk. Four of the tables were occupied by single patrons nursing their drinks in silence. The one next to the jukebox was empty, and Xander made a beeline for it while Rowan went to get them drinks.
The jukebox next to the table was playing a soft rock song that Xander could almost recognise. The machine had been set to a mercifully low volume level, so it wouldn't interfere with the eventual discussion he and Rowan would be having. He kept his eyes on his friend leaning against the bar as his mind returned to the most distressing issue at hand. He had no idea who could have ratted him out. Try as he might, no obvious candidates stood out. The most rational explanation was that his parents had found out – maybe some college kid had mentioned him to their parents, someone who knew his parents and then contacted them. Of course they would never admit to anything – and just to spite them he would never even mention it.
He shook his head and let out a long, shuddering breath as Rowan finally detached himself from the bar and manoeuvred himself and the platter with their drinks to the table.
"Sorry about the delay," Rowan apologised as he sat down next to Xander. "I had to do some convincing before he would sell me the drinks."
"What? Why?" Xander frowned. "You still have your passport, right?"
"Long story," Rowan answered and handled Xander a pint of foaming beer. "But in short I got bitten by a werewolf in New Zealand and the poison kind of destroyed my glamour."
"So, you can't...?" Xander started open-mouthed.
"No," Rowan shook his head. "I had to get rid of it, and now my passport is too risky to use. It's not a first priority, but I'll give Gwen a call about it later."
"Right, the ol' Ice Queen," Xander nodded and drank a mouthful of beer. "So, she's climbed up the company ladders since we saw her last?"
"Yes, she's the Deputy Head, second only to Quentin Travers himself."
"Good for her," Xander nodded and raised his glass in a salute. "I didn't have a chance to see her awake at the hospital before I left, so I never got to thank her properly for what she did. But when I was away, I spent quite a lot of time thinking about the whole Wilkins/Olvikan battle. I still can't believe we actually won – despite all the casualties."
"Oz," Rowan nodded and raised his own glass – a hard cider this time.
"Oz," Xander agreed with his glass still raised.
Xander was half-way through his second pint when he finally decided to take the bull by the horns.
"Faith," he started. "You know what happened that time, right?"
"Yes," Rowan nodded. "A few months ago she had a real bad episode when lots of buried stuff from her subconscious started bubbling back to the surface. She nearly died in a DUI accident and was in other ways falling apart as well. I joined her in a Spirit Walk arranged by a few mutual acquaintances with magical abilities. She had to face some really ugly ghosts from her past and later she admitted to having practically raped you. She really hated herself for that and firmly believed I wouldn't want anything to do with her anymore."
"Oh," Xander breathed weakly.
"I'm telling you this because you have the right to know. I love her very much, and you're my friend, but the rest is up to you two to sort out once she's back."
Hastily swallowing the rest of the beer gave Xander a few valuable moments to sort out his chaotic emotions. Faith had nearly died? That would have been so devastating for multiple reasons. Faith was his friend and the girlfriend of one of his best friends. He swore silently to make it really easy for Faith to approach him when she wanted to get this ugly cloud thoroughly aired out. He had already hinted at his willingness to listen to the Slayer when they had their re-union after Faith's staged "traitor" episode, but this made it an affirmative.
"So, you really love her?" he asked curiously once the drink was finished. He no longer entertained any delusions that he would one day end up with either Buffy or Faith. That boat had sailed and, besides, he was happy with Anya. But the whole concept still intrigued him.
"I do," Rowan answered and drained the rest of his second glass of cider. There was still a third round waiting for both of them on the table. "And she admitted to the feeling being very much mutual. Why do you ask? Still crushing hard on Slayers?" The final question was accompanied by an amused grin.
"Whaaa...?!" Xander gaped, the alcohol he had already consumed making his higher brain functions already somewhat fuzzy. "No... I... whotoldyou?"
"Oh, Xander," Rowan chuckled and shook his head. "It couldn't be more apparent even if you shouted it out loud." Feeling a slight buzz himself, he leaned in closer to the table and beckoned for his companion to do the same. "Listen, my friend," he spoke quietly close to Xander's ear. "Here's the truth. You cannot tame or domesticate a Slayer. You can only try to love them with everything you have and hope they'll return it in full. If you cannot keep up with them, it's more than likely that they'll lose interest sooner or later."
They stayed like that, heads almost touching, for a long moment while the implications of Rowan's insight slowly settled in.
"Thanks," Xander whispered eventually, and they slowly leaned back in their chairs.
"Think nothing of it," Rowan acknowledged and picked up his third hard cider. "So," he continued more brightly. "You're currently 'between jobs', right?"
"Yeah...," Xander answered somewhat hesitantly while picking up his beer.
"Right, so... Angel's mansion is in... liveable condition, I guess, but it could use some professional touches here and there to make it more... habitable. If you're willing, I'd like to hire you make these touches. That would give you a few months' buffer while you're looking for something more permanent."
"Are you serious?" Xander asked in complete astonishment.
"Perfectly," Rowan nodded. "I heard from Rupert about what you did for the Magic Box, and I'm willing to pay you the same rate as he did. Oh, and I was thinking of consulting Joyce as it comes to the finer aspects of interior design. What do you say?"
"Ummm, yes?" Xander hazarded, still not really believing his ears. "When do you want me?"
"Want you, huh?" Rowan winked. "Starting to see things my way?"
"Arrrrgh," Xander groaned in defeat and deflated visibly. He took a long pull from his beer to hide his embarrassment.
"I take that a definite 'yes'", Rowan chuckled and took a long drink himself. "I'll give you the second key, so you can pop by any time to make the initial assessments."
Xander stayed silent for a long time, his deep thinking evident by the slight bobbing of his head. "Right," he eventually stated firmly and stood up. "I think it's time I faced Anya. You, my friend," he shook a finger at Rowan. "You are probably the only reason I'll be able to walk away from that meeting in one piece."
"Go," Rowan nodded and raised his glass to his lips. Xander's final pint still stood half-empty on the table. "But remember that you shouldn't have to worry about telling Anya even uncomfortable things. In the long run, that's not sustainable."
"I know," Xander sighed and turned away to leave. "Some habits are just very hard to shrug off."
