Chapter 14: (And) My Shoes are Not Accustomed to This Hard Concrete -
Thursday September 17, 1998; Sunnydale High School Library, mid-late afternoon.
They were ensconced back at the library again, Oz having pulled his van into a position where they could watch Hideyoshi's van without being observed. Once the teacher had led the gaggle of ensorcelled girls out to his vehicle and driven off, the group had decided that he would possibly head to the Shop before returning to his home - operating on the assumption that Hideyoshi might be able to draw information about the others from Cordelia.
They'd waited a good hour or so before deciding that the teacher and girls weren't returning right away. Hopefully, that would give them time to finish their research and, again hopefully, figure out something to do about the situation.
'In theory, there is no difference between theory and practice,' Jonathan reflected. 'In practice, there is.' That was a depressing line of thought that he curtailed as fast as possible. He didn't figure that the grim and disheveled looking Xander, the drawn looking Oz, or the extremely disquieted looking Giles would appreciate the quote.
Well, Mr. Giles might, but Jonathan had the idea it would be in a sour appreciation of the gallows humor inherent in it. Xander might stare at him incredulously or punch him - he wouldn't care to bet on which right at the moment.
"You should have seen her, Giles," Xander was saying. He'd just finished a more extensive account of his day from leaving to attempt to rescue Faith than he'd managed in the van. The description of his encounter with Faith and Harmony at Hideyoshi's, and his subsequent encounter and escape from the teacher and the transformed girls at the school that emerged was an admixture of two parts horror and one part macabre humor. A pensive looking Giles had quietly interjected probing questions at various points, drawing out details when needed, with a skill that Jonathan thought wouldn't be out of place in an FBI interrogator.
Well, some details, anyway: Xander's eyes shifted and his jaw took on a peculiarly set look at points in his story that suggested strongly that there were elements of his Faith encounter he was leaving out. Some pretty large details, if Jonathan was judging correctly. Apparently Giles wasn't oblivious to that either, but he moved his questions past those points with a quiet delicacy that surprised Jonathan.
"Judging by your account, Xander, I'm certain I would have found the experience equally disturbing," Giles said in a gentle voice. "In fact, I found our own brief encounter to be most disquieting." Removing his glasses and setting them on the table, he rubbed tiredly at the bridge of his nose before fixing Xander with a steady gaze. "Escaping from an aggressive and be-spelled Slayer, and then from our adversaries of this afternoon, not the easiest of tasks, I must say. Your methods were quite resourceful - you are to be commended."
"Heh. More like 'blind panic', Giles." Xander shook his head. "I'm just lucky Faith wanted to," judging by his expression and the way his eyes clouded, Xander changed phrasing in mid-statement so smoothly Jonathan almost missed it, "to play with me first."
"Yes, well," Giles replaced his glasses and stood smoothly from the table. Gripping Xander's shoulder in a reassuring clasp, he turned towards the stacks, finishing with, "There is always an element of good fortune present in combat situations. Being able to seize upon it when it is presented to one is what's commendable."
Giles disappeared into the stacks briefly, returning with yet another armload of mythology references. They were currently engaged in following up on Jonathan's earlier insight into the possibilities of some connection other than demonology or sorcery. Oz sat at the library computer while Jonathan paged through various references, looking into various myths and classical legends for similarities. While searching, he surreptitiously studied the taller teen. In all the years that he'd known Xander Harris, Jonathan couldn't remember ever seeing a serious expression on his face, much less the grim one he was currently wearing. And those eyes... with a slight shock, Jonathan's mind supplied a memory from watching numerous History Channel documentaries over the years. You saw eyes like that in camera views of guys who'd just come out of active combat zones.
Jonathan decided he really didn't want to know what sorts of things would give a seventeen to eighteen year old class clown the eyes of a combat veteran. And he was afraid he was going to find out.
Without quite realizing he was speaking - he hadn't intended to - Jonathan met Xander's eyes across the table. "Faith," he blurted out. Xander's gaze jerked to his and he started, his eyebrows lifting quizzically. "She's... " Jonathan spread his hands slightly, unable to quite put into words what he was trying to say. "Something else. Cordelia too," he added.
"Gonna go out on a limb and say Faith made an impression." Xander studied him for a long enough moment that Jonathan hunched slightly, before the corner of his mouth lifted in a half grin. "Slight case of hero worship with a side order of massive crushing?"
"Uh... " Jonathan blinked. Xander studied him a moment longer, nodding.
"For me it was Buffy," Xander stated, quietly. He nodded, a look of mutual understanding flowing between the two of them.
"Not Faith?" Jonathan frowned.
"Faith... " Xander's eyebrows drew down slightly and he shook his head. "She's... something different. Too real." His lips quirked, twitching into something like his normal half grin. "And Cordy's... a different kind of worship entirely."
"My uncle was pretty real. And he was a hero," Jonathan remarked. At Xander's raised eyebrow, he said, "Oil well firefighter. Gulf War."
"We'll get them back," Oz said, quietly breaking the too intense moment. "Have to," he added, a slight smile ghosting across his lips. Both of the other boys nodded.
"This has got to be really screwed for them," Xander said. "Especially if they're conscious of what's going on like... " he trailed off with an odd look on his face. Shrugging slightly, he glanced at Oz, ending with, "Been there, you know?"
"Just by rumor," Oz acknowledged. "But yeah. Except, not like that for me." The look he met Xander's with was equal parts wryness and discomfort.
Jonathan pursed his lips, wondering, but he decided it was probably better not to ask. The moment of communication between the two seemed too private and too personal to interrupt.
"So, Giles," Xander looked over to the librarian. "Another Primal mage?"
"Hmm." Giles frowned slightly, turning a page while reading. "While it does have similar elements, there's a certain lack of conformity to the transformations that suggests otherwise."
"We started thinking about other transformation myths," Jonathan supplied. A frown crossed his brow as well, "But I'm not finding anything that really matches exactly, either. Mielikki, Ki, Arduinna, Hecate - none of those have a really broad based range of effects associated with any of their curses in mythology. Not subtle either." In response to Xander's inquiring look, he elaborated, "If, let's say, Pan or Cerrunos were walking the halls here, everyone would notice all of the students and teachers going bestial at once. Nothing slow or subtle about the process, in some legends."
Xander shook his head, a rueful grin crossing his lips. "Never underestimate the power of Sunnydale denial syndrome, Jonathan."
"Ok, so," Oz leaned back in his chair and looked over. "What do we have?"
"Huh. Ok... Faith was acting like a big cat, kinda," Xander stated. "All rumbly and pouncing. And Harmony acted like one of those big blue and yellow zoo parrots."
Jonathan was struck by the mental image and an involuntary bark of laughter came out of him. Xander scowled before a reluctant grin slid over his lips. "And yeah, the bird brain comment ran through my head too," Xander admitted.
"Presenting." Oz crossed his arms, looking pensive. "Throwing food, chattering, bristling and bouncing... monkey like."
"Ok, yeah. And Aura went for me like one of those little dogs," Jonathan said, nodding. "And from what you guys said, she's been desperate for attention and approval like a neurotic pekingese."
"Cordelia?" Xander frowned, glancing from one to the other of them with a raised eyebrow.
Giles pursed his lips slightly. "Hmm. While I haven't had the opportunities to observe her that you have, her threat display here in the library was suggestive of one of the various game bird breeds when cornered." When Xander and Jonathan looked at him, he shrugged. "I have been exposed to pheasant keeping and game keepers at various estates in Britain."
"So... " Oz's eyes went distant for a moment. "Circe," he suggested. Turning back to his keyboard, he began clicking at it, presumably pulling up reference pages.
"Huh." Jonathan's forehead creased, and did Giles. Removing his glasses again, Giles began polishing them with a thoughtful expression.
"Men to pigs?" Xander's expression was puzzled.
Jonathan shook his head. "Kind of a popular concept of it. Circe turned men into animals resembling their base natures: Odysseus' crew became pigs because that's what they were acting like. Her other captives became animals that matched whatever characteristics they had." Something went click in Jonathan's mind as a connection between what he'd been reading about Primal magic, Xander's comment, and the rumors surrounding Principal Flutie's death of a couple of years ago, and he swallowed hard. Oh. Maybe skipping lunch wasn't such a bad thing...
Xander shrugged, saying, "I just saw the movie a long time ago."
"I seem to recall," Giles remarked, "That Circe used a combination of potions and a wand - or staff - to effect her transformations."
"Nothing like that you've seen?" Jonathan asked. Oz and Xander shook their heads, frowning.
"Huh. Hideyoshi does come out of the back storeroom to begin classes a lot," Xander said after awhile. "No wand or anything, though."
"Just remembered. He passed out the quiz results that first day," Oz stated. Glancing at Giles he added, "Remembering what you told Faith about the taste testing."
Ok, yet another thing for Jonathan to wonder at. He decided he was going to need a crash course in the group's shorthand. He hoped he'd live long enough to learn 'cryptic'.
"Hmm." Giles nodded. "A catalyst agent could be applied to selected papers to enhance the mystical element, and be absorbed by touch, yes. Excellent observation." Oz accepted the acknowledgment with a slight incline of his head, Xander with a less restrained half grin. Giles added, "That still leaves us without an item for that element, presuming that we are on the right track in linking Hideyoshi's talent to a possible source element of the Circe legendry."
"Could be anything," Jonathan blurted out as a thought struck him. "Doesn't have to be a wand: jewelry, favorite pen, laser pointer - anything like that."
"Huh." Oz's eyebrows drew together. "He fiddles with his cuff links a lot in class," he remarked.
Xander nodded slowly. "It'd explain why you, me, and Heidi got so agitated."
"Beast within reacting?" Oz's raised eyebrow would have been eloquent if Jonathan knew the language. Judging by Giles slightly puzzled expression, he was lagging a bit behind in the translation as well.
"Can't picture Faith taking food from him when he caught her," Xander said.
"Possibly the effect could be induced by a brute force effort if needed, albeit with less finesse than via using an initial catalyst," Giles suggested. "Hmm. It may be possible to use a spell to locate any mystical items he has on his person, perhaps causing it to flash visibly or some similar reactive effect."
"And one of us can take it away when we spot it," Xander said. "Smash it."
"Quite." Peering at the two over the tops of his glasses, Giles remarked, "If I've translated your and Oz's remarks correctly, that may also explain why the other girl wasn't affected. Traces of her former possession may have acted to leave her with both a resistance and a sensitivity to the effect, as well as accounting for your mutual, unfocused unease."
Xander and Oz nodded slowly, both of them looking disturbed. "Should have been a bigger clue," Oz allowed.
With a look at Jonathan, Giles said, "I believe that your knowledge of magic may prove useful, Mr. Levinson. If you would assist me, we can work at narrowing down a specific incantation that would serve the intended purpose while also being simple enough to be useful in a combat situation, as it were."
"Combat with a possessed Faith," Xander said, making a face. "Hideyoshi's got us outnumbered." He stood abruptly and disappeared into Giles' office, returning a few moments later with a pair of tranquilizer dart rifles and a small case. Startled by the sight of the weapons, Jonathan threw a quick, panicked look at the main doors, almost expecting Snyder to walk in and bust them. The nonchalant attitudes of the others to Xander's activity shocked him even more.
"Excellent thinking," Giles remarked. "Once Mr. Levinson and I have located a suitable incantation, Oz can make a quick shopping trip if we require any components we do not currently have, and we can finalize a strategy."
"Less talk, more spell looking up-age," Xander said, his eyes dark. "Hideyoshi might be disposing of the girls while we're researching."
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Thursday September 17, 1998; Los Angeles, Helen's diner, mid-late afternoon.
"Anne! Booth, single, your section," Janice called out.
"On it, thanks," Buffy called back. Putting her current ticket on the spindle at the cook's window, she snagged her order pad out of her apron, removing the pen as she headed out past the registers.
Her good mood was still holding, interestingly enough. Not even Doyle's mid-vision visit to her door step had managed to really put a serious dent in it. When she wasn't busily being actively ticked off at him, the little Irish half-demon could be surprisingly charming in a smarmy, annoying sort of way. And despite his protestations of not being anywhere near made out of hero material, he could handle a stake competently enough.
Between them they'd managed to take out the half dozen-plus vamps in time to keep the small group of college kids they'd dragged back to their lair from becoming snackage. Buffy's threat to stake Doyle had come out somewhat half hearted, and he'd taken her strongly repeated suggestion to go look up Gunn and bug him with reasonably good cheer: grumbling about it only half snarkily.
Whistling slightly to herself, she whirled around, not truly noticing who had sat down in the booth she'd been directed to.
"Welcome to Helen's," she said with a smile, not looking up from her pad. "My name is Anne, and I'll be your server tonight. Would you like something to drink?"
"A water and a Guinness if you be having it," an annoyingly familiar voice spoke out. Her head jerked up and she looked right into Doyle's blue eyes that were meeting her own with a disturbing intensity.
"Sorry," she said, feeling her good mood souring slightly. "No liquor license."
"More's the pity it is," Doyle said with a look of genuine regret.
"Look, I thought we settled this last night. Again." Buffy said with a scowl. "If you're here to feed me more of the same cruddy speil about Champions yatta yatta, I'm gonna give you the same answer that I gave you last night. Only with new and improved violence."
"And here and I was thinking we were getting along so much better now," Doyle said with a slight smirk, his eyes twinkling. "It was almost seeming you were enjoying rescuing those college lads and their lassies."
Sighing, Buffy nodded reluctantly. "Ok, that was not so much of the bad, I'll give you that." Raising an eyebrow, she glared at him skeptically. "So, ok. Lay it on me. Give me the usual drivel so I can turn you down - again - and take your order."
"No, no - not being the usual at all," Doyle said, his expression absolutely serious now. She had never seen the normally jovial little man look so completely grim. "I'm assuring you, miss, I know this Powers stuff tends to come off sanctimonious and overblown, but I have to be telling you, this time it's dead serious."
"This had better be good," Buffy muttered. Doyle's completely chilling smile made a good chunk of her indignation fade away, against her will.
"Oh, 'good''s not being the word I'd use, now." Doyle leaned back in the booth. "This one looks big. Very big. And it's being nasty it is. Else I woulda' left you alone like I said I would. This'll be an end of the world type thing, I'm feeling - the type o' thing that Gunn fellow you keep aiming me at isn't quite up to handling."
"All right," Buffy growled. "Less build up, more talky." She made a moving it on gesture with her free hand.
Doyle spread his hands on the table top, looking uncomfortable. "It's bad enough it might spill out far enough to be catching up your friend and his little one, even."
"Low blow," Buffy growled. "So, just how long were you stalking me before I caught you at it?"
"No no - nothing like that," Doyle's eyes widened in alarm. "It was the visions; I saw you and them together in 'em, that's all. Seriously."
Unfortunately, one of her gifts was that she had always had a vivid imagination. The image of Elena's broken little body laying over a still Pike flashed through her mind with an intensity that she normally only felt with Slayer dreams. She wobbled for a second, putting her hand to her forehead.
"You alright?" Doyle asked, genuine concern making its way through his stony expression. She shook her head to clear away the brief flash of pain. Raising her head she looked him straight in the eye.
"Great," Buffy said, deflating a little. "Alright. I'll talk to you about it. Come by the apartment tomorrow morning before I have to get ready for work. I'll be there. But no nonsense; or you and Mr. Pointy get really nicely acquainted. Got it?"
"Clear as a Belfast morning," Doyle said with a dark smirk. "Minus the explosions. Well, seeing as how this wonderful establishment doesn't have the liquid nourishment I'd be liking, I'll be takin' my leave now."
"Ok, so why is it that every time my life starts going well, you or some other demons barge in and mess it up?" Buffy grimaced at him.
Doyle said nothing in reply as she watched him go, her order pad clutched loosely in her hand. It was only after she saw the owner approaching with an extremely irritated expression that she realized that she was going to get it for 'driving off a perfectly good customer'. Janice shook her head, giving Buffy a half pitying, half aggravated look as the owner bustled over. Cursing Irishmen in her mind as she gave her best 'I'll be better next time' smile to the owner, she fumed in private.
Damned Irishman. And everything had been going so well again. Briefly.
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Thursday September 17, 1998; Sunnydale High School Library, late afternoon.
"Ok, this might do," Jonathan said. He pushed the grimoire over to Giles, leaning back tiredly to rub at his eyes while the librarian perused the spell description.
Over at the computer, Oz and Xander were engaged in an examination of the floor plans of Hideyoshi's house that Oz had pulled up, Xander carefully pointing out areas where the actual house differed from the architect's layouts. They'd been involved in a fairly intense, quiet strategy discussion for the past hour while Giles and Jonathan had been engaged in magical researches.
He hoped that his analysis of the incantation was accurate: it was more than frustrating having gone through this process numerous times already, only to have to discard options as requiring too many components, being too time consuming, or needing elaborate ritual circles they wouldn't have time to inscribe in combat.
'In combat'. That was a freaky thought in and of itself. Jonathan's own minor dabblings into the mystical arts hadn't really considered the fact that there were times when you just wouldn't have the time for elaborate ritual and preparation.
"Hmm." Giles nodded after reading through the pages a second time. "I do believe you are correct. The actual spell effect seems to be engendered via the chant and gestures - the accompanying mystical inscriptions would appear to be mere embellishments that can be discarded."
"Good." Jonathan nodded with unfaked enthusiasm.
Giles gave him a curious look. "I must say: the impromptu spell you used against Hideyoshi was interesting. I don't believe I recall that from any witchcraft or sorcerous traditions I am familiar with."
"Uh. Not witchcraft," Jonathan stated. "It was a minor Hermetic cantrip combined with a Kabbalistic sigil. Only thing I could think of at the time."
"Fascinating. And quite efficacious," Giles remarked. He fixed Jonathan with the first non-disapproval tinged regard that Jonathan could remember receiving from him. "While I still have reservations about my Slayer and the others drawing you into this, it does occur that you bring a possibly much needed alternative perspective to our mix of talents."
"Got something?" Oz's laconic query interrupted the discussion.
"We believe so, yes," Giles stated. "Now to begin integrating it into a strategy." Last bell punctuated his statement, causing Jonathan to twitch, startled, as he realized that they'd spent the entire remaining school day at this process.
"Too bad we didn't put all this together yesterday," Xander remarked, ignoring the bell. His voice sounded ragged. "I should've gone with Faith to check the place out, too."
"While I can understand the temptation to berate oneself in hindsight," Giles said, gently. "You may wish to consider that it's misplaced effort. Yesterday and the day before, we quite simply didn't have the required clues from which to sort the proper conclusions from the myriad possibilities."
"You'd gone with Faith, we might have lost you too," Oz said, gripping Xander's shoulder.
"I find your lack of Faith in me disturbing," Xander gave the smaller boy a startled look followed by a wry smirk. "Almost lost me anyway, later."
"Ok, so: we break the item when we find it... this going to release the spell on the girls?" Oz ignored the bad Star Wars pun to focus on the matter at hand.
"Possibly," Giles replied. "It should, at least." Laying his hand on a volume near the research pile, he added, "If it does not, I still have the transpossession rituals from our earlier situation to draw upon." His eyes went wintry for a moment. "Once we've suitably disposed of Hideyoshi, that is." The inflection he placed on 'suitably' sent a chill down Jonathan's spine, causing him to again reappraise Giles as someone definitely in the 'do not piss off' category.
"Ok, what's of the next?" Xander asked.
The sound of the main library doors slamming open as a flustered looking Amy and Tamara barged in cut off Giles response. All of them looked up from the research table, startled, as the two girls stormed over to them.
"Ok, enough. We want to know just what the hell is going on with our friends," Tamara stated. "And what we're going to do about it."
"Ms. St. Marins," Giles began with a slightly nonplussed expression. "While I do appreciate your concerns, may I point out that this is hardly the best time for this discussion?"
"Should I make an appointment?" Tamara's glare cut through Giles' remonstration. She added, "Like maybe for after our friends show up in the school newspaper's obit column?"
Jonathan was pretty sure that Xander and Oz's wince at Tamara's icy tone was reflected in his own expression.
Amy's lips quirked up at the corners as Giles spluttered. "May as well spill, Mr. Giles. I already told her about last Valentine's Day," she remarked, "And about my mother. She's as 'in the know' on magic as anyone here, now."
"I'll refrain from suggesting that there are reasons we attempt to maintain some sort of discretion," Giles began, only to have Amy interrupt him this time.
"I must've missed the memo," Amy remarked. "Besides, I didn't sign a non-disclosure agreement." In a more exasperated tone, she added, "I've been friends with Willow since at least the third grade, you guys. Even if you couldn't tell outsiders, it didn't occur to you I might want to help? Or that a witch might be useful?"
"Can't be all that secret," Tamara said, glancing over the others. "You let Jonathan in on it." She winked in his direction as Jonathan did his best to shrink into his chair before Giles turned that glare back on him.
"We think Mr. Hideyoshi has been casting some sort of spell on the girls, making them go all animal-like," Xander said, drawing Amy and Tamara's attention to him and off of Giles and Jonathan. Spreading his hands, he said, "We've been racking our brains working on how to break it and how to go about it."
"That wasn't so hard," Tamara nodded. "You just went back on my friends list, Harris. Thanks."
Xander met Giles' glare with a wince, throwing his hands up in an exasperated gesture. "We don't have time for this, Giles. Crisis now. Argue with Tam and Amy tomorrow." After a long moment, Giles nodded, his expression becoming one of resignation. Turning back to Amy and Tamara, Xander said, "That's about it. We think we maybe have a way to break it, but we're not sure."
"Pretty obvious it was something like that after the lunchroom Xander, Cordy, Will and Aura halftime show this afternoon." Amy sighed. "Ok, what do we do about it?"
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Thursday September 17, 1998; Sunnydale High School parking lot, 3:30 P.M.
"Thought you had Detention?" Tor Hauer smirked as Heidi came up to the car and leaned against it tiredly.
"Yeah yeah," she blew a strand of hair out of her eyes, scowling. "Blame it on the Beastie Girls - got swept up in their Animal House remake in Bio. Worse: they skipped out on detention."
"That'll learn ya," Tor grinned.
"Shouldn't complain, I guess," Heidi said. "Since Dickie and I were the only two there, Mrs. Waterson just marked us as showing and canceled it for the day. But we get a full ninety minutes tomorrow to make up."
"Still an early day, anyway." Tor glanced towards the front of the school as a car pulled into the side lot, watching idly as it came to a stop and the Senior Biology teacher got out and went around to the side. "Ok, that just can't be good."
Heidi followed his eyes, frowning as she watched Cordelia, Faith, Aura, Willow, and Harmony pile out of the side door of the mini-van, milling about the biology teacher. "Huh."
"Umm. Xan and the Monster Squad holed up in the library?" Tor's brow creased as Hideyoshi snapped what looked like a stout length of chain onto something around Faith's neck, then turned to the side entrance and began strolling towards it. The... pack, there wasn't any other good word for it... of girls fell in around him and the feline looking Slayer, moving oddly.
"Think so," Heidi nodded. "Usually are."
"Cool. Why don't you run over and warn them they might have incoming?" Tor straightened from the drivers side of the 'Cuda. "Go out the front while those are heading in through the stacks - I'll catch up."
"Why me?"
"You run faster," Tor said, grinning. Pulling a vicious looking Al Mar lock-blade out of his back pocket, he added, "I'm gonna do some creative auto shop."
Shaking her head, Heidi took a step out into the parking lot towards the side entrance. Glancing back over her shoulder, she remarked, "Thought we weren't the hero types?"
"Don't tell anyone. It'll ruin our reps," Tor replied. "We can't let the Boss get trashed," he added, "It just wouldn't be cool." He came around the rear of the car as Heidi set off at a run for the school's front doors.
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