Wednesday, April 25th, 2001 ~ Training Room - The Magic Box ~ Sunnydale, California

Anya flipped on the wall switch as she entered the room and moved away to the left. She stopped short of the side wall by about four feet and turned to face the two men.

They had halted just inside the room after Sam had swung the door shut behind them. They took in the features and accoutrements of the room with twin expressions of astonishment before turning toward each other.

"How much weirder can this get?" Sam inquired.

"You're probably better off not asking that question, buddy," Al recommended.

"Ahem," Anya announced. "We came in here to talk, not to take a tour."

Sam walked toward her as he answered. "Uh, right, sorry," he said. "We were just a little, um, startled by all of this." Before he reached a point within arms' reach of Anya, Al spoke up.

"That's close enough, Sam," he cautioned his friend, pointing at the hanging display of weapons on the wall directly behind the woman.

"Yes, that's close enough," Anya agreed, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at them. "Who are you and why does everyone seem to think you're Giles?"

"My name is Sam and this is Al," Sam replied. "They think I'm Giles because, to them, I look and sound exactly like him."

"Who do they think he is?" Anya asked, jerking her chin at Al.

"They can't see or hear him," Sam explained. "He's not really here. What you're seeing is a holographic projection that's tuned to my brainwaves. A hologram is..."

"I've seen Star Trek," Anya said, waving off more science talk with a gesture. "If he's tuned to your brainwaves why can I see him?"

"I don't know. In our experience, only very young children have been able to see Al," Sam said, pondering the seeming inconsistency in this case.

"And some animals," Al added with a pointed look at Anya.

"Al..." Sam began in warning. He knew Al was prone to overreact when inexplicable complications arose during a Leap but they couldn't afford to antagonize someone who could completely blow Sam's cover. Fortunately, it appeared Anya had no intention of rising to the bait or becoming distracted.

"What did you do with Giles? The real one," she demanded.

"He's here where I am," Al responded. "He's fine and he'll be back with you in a few days."

"I don't believe you," Anya shot back. "He wouldn't leave Buffy without telling her, if he would leave at all; especially now."

"Why especially now?" Al inquired, hoping to glean some information from another source, since Sam's host seemed adamant in his unwillingness to talk.

"I'm asking the questions," Anya reminded him. "And I don't believe Giles would leave voluntarily."

"It wasn't exactly voluntary on our part, either," Sam interjected, concerned with the level of ire Anya was directing at Al. "I can't explain everything because it might not be good for you or your friends to have too much information about what's going on, but we really are here to help you."

Anya considered the gentle, friendly smile the taller man was giving her. "Well," she admitted grudgingly. "You don't seem evil, but that doesn't mean you're good; or on our side, either." When neither man responded to this declaration, she focused her attention on Al again. "Giles is okay?"

"He's safe and healthy, if a little upset," Al replied, determined to help Sam win this woman over by being as truthful as possible without sharing information that would compromise the secret of the Project.

"You'd better be careful," Anya informed them. "Giles is getting really fed up with people doing stuff to him unexpectedly and without his permission. He's liable to throttle you or something."

"Thanks for the warning," Al replied sarcastically, tugging slightly at the collar of his shirt at the reminder of his initial encounter with the large Englishman.

"Ooooo!" Anya exclaimed. "Did he thrash you? Darn, I wish I could have seen that. Giles is good-looking all the time but he's really sexy when he gets all cranky and menacing."

"We did have a little misunderstanding, at first, but I talked to him a few minutes ago and he knows we don't mean any harm," Al said, before turning back to Sam. "How come she can see us?"

Before Sam could answer, Anya spoke up. "Probably because I'm a demon. Well, ex-demon actually," she said brightly. "We're not as limited in our perceptions as humans are. I'm mortal now but I was a very effective vengeance demon for more than a millennium."

Sam simply goggled at her until he caught a movement in his peripheral vision. He turned to see Al slowly rotating an index finger near his temple.

"Yeah," Al said, continuing to make the non-verbal signal. "That explains it."

"I am not demented," Anya insisted harshly, taking a step towards Al. "And I'm beginning to find you annoying." She raked her gaze over him with careful scrutiny. "Now that I think about it, you look familiar. Have you ever scorned a woman?" she demanded.

Sam nearly choked trying to suppress a laugh.

"I... I... may have moved on sooner than someone might have wanted, but..." Al began in a halting defense.

"You have!" Anya crowed in triumph. "I thought so. I see I made you short." She considered his outfit with a sneer. "And color-blind. That was some pretty effective vengeance I wreaked upon your head. I'll bet you're the target of constant ridicule now. Serves you right."

"Hey, missy! I'll have you know this is the height of fashion..."

"Al. Anya," Sam groaned. "Please, this isn't getting us anywhere." The verbal combatants subsided but shot a couple of glares at each other before completely turning their attention back to Sam. "I know this is a difficult situation for you, Anya," Sam went on. "But we could really use your help."

"What is it you want me to do, exactly," Anya asked, warily.

Sam, sensing it wouldn't do to push too hard too soon tempered the request he had been planning. "For now, just don't tell anyone that I'm not Giles or anything about Al. I mean, think about it; they probably wouldn't believe you anyway."

"I think you'd be surprised at what they're likely to believe," Anya countered. "But I guess I can do that for a little while; at least until I can tell whether or not you're evil for sure."

"Thank you," Sam said with a smile.

"Why did you come here at all?" Anya inquired.

"Sam helps people," Al volunteered. "Either the person he's temporarily replacing or someone close to them. Sometimes more than one person."

"You could be of more assistance to us, and your friends, if you'd try and think what might need to be fixed here," Sam added.

"Like what?" Anya asked.

Before Sam could answer, there was a knock on the door and it was opened a crack. Xander stuck his head in and looked around.

"Hey guys," he greeted them. "Is everything okay? The food's getting cold."

"We'll be there in a minute, Xander," Anya assured him.

"Okay," he replied and disappeared.

The trio began to move slowly toward the door Xander had closed behind him.

"Like what?" Anya repeated.

"Oh, like protecting someone from danger or finding out something important that they need to know but wouldn't find out about without Sam's help," Al told her. "Sometimes he helps people get out of a relationship they shouldn't be in or gives them a push into a relationship that will be better for them and the other person."

"Can you think of anything similar that might need to be fixed here?" Sam asked as Anya reached for the doorknob.

Anya paused and turned, a thoughtful expression mixed with a little doubt on her face. "How long did you say you're going to be here?" she inquired.

End Part 5