If Wishes Were Horses…

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, I'm just using them for my own amusement.

Chapter Four

Oz carefully loaded the crossbow, checking the feel of the mechanism as the parts moved and whirred in harmony. Satisfied, he removed the bolt and laid it down on the table. Beside him, Larry and Nancy were carving stakes while Giles leafed through the stacks of books haphazardly piled up on the living room floor. Oz glanced out of the window; the sun was shining brightly through, dust motes dancing like flecks of gold. It was so peaceful, tranquil, like it used to be before the Harvest.

'What time is it?' said a fuzzy voice behind him, and he turned to see Cordelia descending the staircase carefully. She was still wearing the oversized T-shirt and pyjama pants that Giles had handed to Martin the previous evening.

'Ah, almost twelve,' Giles said, standing. 'How do you feel – can I get you something to eat?'

'Yeah, sure, thanks,' Cordelia said. 'Anything low fat.' She gingerly felt the bandages on her neck.

'They bothering you?' Oz asked, eyebrows raised.

'No. Well, not in a pain way, just in a psychologically scarring way,' Cordelia said with a faint smile. 'What happened – how did we get away? I don't remember anything.'

Giles emerged from the kitchen with a mug of tea and bowl filled with cornflakes. 'We have Oz to thank for that, he arrived just in the nick of time.'

'Oh. Thanks,' Cordelia said shyly.

'Here, take a seat,' Oz offered, standing. He cleared the weapons away and Giles set down the breakfast tray. Cordelia was too famished to complain about the budget brand cereal, wolfing it down hungrily.

'Eat slowly,' Giles warned. 'I'll make you something more substantial once that's settled. Now then,' he took a seat opposite her, 'do you feel up to talking? Only I need to know what it is you were going to tell me yesterday, and how you know about my being a Watcher.'

Cordelia held one manicured finger up, chewed, swallowed, and took a deep breath. 'Well, it all started with this new girl, Anya…something. See, this isn't how the world is supposed to be – Buffy should be here.'

'Yeah, you said that yesterday,' Larry said.

'Excuse me, I wasn't finished? So anyways, I sorta made this wish that Buffy had never come to Sunnydale, only I didn't know that Anya was this, like, scary bad fairy type.'

'Bad fairy?' Giles asked, perplexed.

'Yeah – one minute she's all coiffed and moisturised, next thing I know she looks like Freddy Krueger's ugly sister.'

'And you're saying that the world is like it is because you made a wish about the Slayer?' Giles asked.

'Am I not speaking English?' Cordelia said to Oz, who looked back steadily. 'Didn't I just say that?'

'I'm just having trouble understanding what on earth you're prattling on about!' Giles retorted.

'I don't prattle!' Cordelia exclaimed, offended.

'Guys, time out,' Oz said. 'Let's stick to the crucial, shall we? Find out who this Anya is and how to undo whatever mojo she cast.'

'Yes, quite,' Giles said, cleaning his glasses. 'Thank you, Oz. I'm afraid I'm rather tightly wound since all this…' He paused. 'Wait a moment…Anya… Cordelia, did she give you this?' He pulled out the pendant from his pocket and handed it to her.

'Yeah. She said it was a good luck charm.'

'I think I know who she is,' Giles said, grinning. He scurried back to the piles of books, toppling them until he found the volume he wanted, a thick brown-leather tome. He brought it to the dining table and everyone crowded around as he flicked through the pages. Pointing out a woodcut print that took up half a page, he asked, 'Cordelia, is this her?'

'Oh my God, yes!' Cordelia shrieked. 'See what I mean about the skin issues?'

'So who is she?' Nancy asked, peering over Cordelia's shoulder.

'Her name is Anyanka, sort of a…patron saint of scorned women.'

'So she's sorta like the fairy version of Lorena Bobbitt?' Nancy asked.

'Not exactly,' Giles said. 'She's a demon who grants wishes. Needless to say, they never turn out for the good of whoever's stupid enough to make one.'

'Hello, sitting right here!' Cordelia groused.

'Oh, yes, sorry…current company notwithstanding, of course,' Giles said hastily. 'So you wished that Buffy had never come to Sunnydale – which means in your world, she did.'

'Certainly would help to have her here,' Oz mused. 'Keep the vamp ranks in check.'

'But hold on,' Giles said, 'if your world is, is normal, like ours used to be, then Buffy must have averted the Harvest.'

'So the Master never rose,' Oz said, catching on.

'Of course,' Giles breathed. A wistful look came over his face as he imagined Cordelia's world for a moment.

'So, if we can just get this Anya chick here,' Larry said, 'then Superbrain can unwish her wish and everything'll go back to normal?'

'In theory, yes,' Giles said. 'Cordelia, how did you, uh, summon her in the first place?'

'I didn't, she came to me.'

'And how did that happen?'

'Ho boy, that is a story! Well, I was dating this guy - a total loser by the way, who I never would've looked at twice if it weren't for Buffy making him the teensiest bit cool by hanging with him…' Catching Giles's impatient frown, she hurried on, 'Long story short - he turned out to be a jerk, I dumped his sorry butt, then Anya shows up and starts saying how he never deserved me, and didn't I wish something awful would happen to him.'

'So all we have to do is find some guy to upset you, then boom! She shows up, you make a wish to put everything right, we're all sipping cocktails by sunset,' Larry said. 'And please, let me be the first to volunteer for that job.'

'Something tells me it'll be more complicated than that,' Nancy said.

'Look,' Giles said, 'I'm going to have to research this Anyanka thing further. I have some more volumes at the library.'

'I'll come with,' Larry said.

'Thank you,' Giles nodded, picking up his black courier bag and throwing in a few books. 'Oz, Nancy, stay here with Cordelia, make sure everything's alright. If Buffy Summers should arrive, keep her here until we get back.'

'What about me?' Cordelia asked. 'What can I do?'

'Just rest up, have plenty to eat and drink,' Giles said. 'If you think of anything else that may be useful, call me at the library.'

'Okay,' Cordelia said, watching the two men leave.

'So,' Oz said, dropping a pack of cards on the table, 'poker?'

Spike ducked the low-hanging curtain. 'Dru, sweet, you in here?'

'The King has asked me to the ball,' said a child-like voice from the shadows, 'but my carriage keeps running away from me.'

Walking around the huge canopied bed, Spike saw Drusilla crouching on the floor trying to coax a rat toward her. 'Pss, pss, pss,' she whispered to it, rubbing her fingertips together.

'C'mon, pet, up you come,' Spike said, drawing her to her feet. 'Let's get you back in bed, shall we?' He glanced around, frowning when he spotted a young man's body in the corner. 'Dru, did you let your dinner get cold again?'

'He tasted like cherries,' Drusilla pouted. 'I can't abide cherries.'

Spike tucked Drusilla under the layers of silk and lace that she loved so much. 'There now, snug as a bug.'

'Where did you go?' Drusilla asked, dark eyes huge in the candlelight. 'It was all black without you.'

'Had to go see someone important,' Spike said, lifting her pale hand to his lips and trailing kisses up her bare arm. 'But then I ran into an old friend, and he told me about this nifty book that'll tell us how to get you all better again.'

'Yes, the book,' Drusilla breathed, eyes glazing. 'All that glitters…but the mean librarian won't let us borrow it.'

'Don't fret ducks, I've sent the boys to persuade him,' Spike smiled nastily. 'And now, you need to eat something. Want me to get you a pizza delivery boy?'

''m not hungry.'

'You need to eat, luv,' Spike insisted, firm but gentle. 'How 'bout a newborn? Tasty but not too filling.'

'My Spike,' Drusilla purred, stroking the planes of his face with trailing fingertips. 'You won't leave me, will you?'

'Never,' Spike said fiercely, eyes ablaze. 'You're mine, 'til this stinking world crumbles and burns.'

'Don't leave me,' Drusilla murmured, eyes fluttering closed. 'Don't go to that nasty little girl.'

'Dru? Pet? What're you on about - what girl?' Spike asked, but Drusilla was gone, dead to the world.

Spike frowned, unsettled. 'I need to go kill something.'

'I can't believe it's so late,' Giles said, hurrying through the dark parking lot to his car. 'We should have been back long before sunset.'

'Yeah,' Larry said. 'I did say that, like, twenty times.' Neither of them noticed the two vampires that hurried into the library behind them. 'It's like you weren't even hearing me.'

'I'm afraid I do get rather caught up when I'm researching,' Giles admitted.

The two men climbed into the clapped-out Citroën and Giles gunned it out onto the street.

'Well,' Giles said, 'at least now we know what we're dealing with. It's good to know that my Watcher muscles haven't completely atrophied.'

'Whatever. We just need to get back and do this ritual thing so we can all get back to normal.' Larry drummed his hands against his knees, impatient. 'Can't this thing go any faster?'

'This is fast enough,' Giles snapped, protective of his little car. 'Better to arrive a few minutes later than in a body bag.'

Larry rolled his eyes and glared out of the window. Up ahead he saw Jefferson Park, and a white delivery van parked up on the grass. 'Wait,' he murmured, noticing the blacked out windows. 'Giles, look – over there!'

Both men watched the van's back doors open, two vampires springing out to herd a shuffling line of sobbing people.

'Oh, bloody hell,' Giles said, wrenching the steering wheel towards them. The car careened off onto the grass, jolting around as the tyres hit the uneven ground.

'Ow!' Larry cried, head smacking into the ceiling.

'Sorry,' Giles muttered, braking sharply.

'Argh!' Larry yelled, neck whiplashing forwards.

'Sorry!' Giles said again, grabbing a cross and crossbow from the back seat. 'Do you have a stake?'

'Yeah,' Larry winced, rubbing his neck.

They leapt out of the car, rushing over to the van. Giles held up the cross like a talisman and the vampires shrank back, hissing and snarling.

'Run!' Giles shouted to the prisoners. Larry covered him as the people streamed out into the darkness, his eyes on the vampires. One of them grinned suddenly, and Larry whirled around to see another vamp right behind him.

'Giles!' he shouted, bringing up his stake, but the vampire was on him before he could use it.

'No!' Giles shouted, raising his crossbow. Someone slammed into him from behind and he fell hard, dropping the cross. Panic seethed through him as his attacker stood on his outflung arm, wresting the crossbow from his numb fingers and smashing him in the face with the stock. He cried out as his nose buckled, hot blood gushing over his face. He couldn't see Larry, but he heard the younger man scream and the sound of crunching gristle.

Suddenly the weight lifted from his arm. He sat up, wiping his face, knowing that the smell of so much blood would attract other vampires like a beacon. He saw Larry's body, still and glassy-eyed, half his throat torn away. Giles swallowed down nausea and grief, grabbing the crossbow and staggering to his feet.

Behind him, a dark-haired man was grappling with one of the vampires. The others had vanished, and Giles caught a glimpse of dust sparkling in the air. The stranger punched the vampire hard, and it staggered back away from him. Giles raised his arm and calmly sent a bolt right through its heart.

'Thanks,' the other man said, wincing with pain. There was blood on his hands and his shirt.

'No, it's me who should be thanking you,' Giles said, holding a handkerchief to his bleeding nose. 'They would certainly have killed me without your assistance. Look, you're clearly injured and I have a car – can I take you somewhere?'

'You're Rupert Giles.'

'How did you - '

'I'm looking for a girl, her name is Buffy Summers.'

'Buffy?' Giles breathed. 'How do you know her?'

'I don't. Not yet, anyway.'

'I see,' he said cautiously. 'And you are…?'

'Angel.'

Author's note: Please review, whether it's praise or constructive criticism. Thanks!