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Shanna
shannalynn9064@yahoo.com
Buffy was packed for the weekend. She had an overnight back with her hairdryer, makeup, toothpaste, toothbrush, etc., a large suitcase with her clothes in it and a duffel bag full of shoes and weapons. It never hurts to be a little overcautious, besides she did have to leave her favorite crossbow behind. Giles would have gotten a little suspicious if any more of his stash from his weapons case disappeared.
The slayer wondered how long she had before Xander and Anya showed up, and debated adding a few more stakes to her duffel bag. Just as she was ready to head upstairs to grab some additional holy water, the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it, Mom," she called out, opening the door, not to reveal Xander and Anya as Buffy had expected, but Giles instead.
"Giles!" Her voice was bright and much too chipper, she knew. She hated lying to her watcher, and prayed her fellow conspirators wouldn't show up while he was here. "What are you doing here?"
"Buffy, may I come in?" Giles arched an eyebrow and peered at her over the tops of his wire-rimmed glasses.
"In? Oh, you mean in! Like inside. Here. In my house. Uh, well, if you can." She was the Slayer. She knew better than to invite someone into her home, even her own watcher.
Giles smiled at her in approval as he crossed the threshold. "I'm glad I caught you before you and Riley left for the weekend. I was wondering if you had the Sword of Illion. I couldn't find it in my weapons chest. I know it's highly unlikely that a K'narkmul demon would appear while you're away, but it is the only method known to kill it. Do you by chance have it here?"
"Sword of Illiad? Isn't that a book by that Homer guy?" Buffy shot a confused look at her watcher.
"Not the Sword of Illiad, Buffy. The Sword of Illion. It's the only one of its kind, and supposedly crafted by an Aztec worshipped as a god himself. It is the only thing know to be able to decapitate a K'nark. . ."
". . .mul demon. Got that part. What's it look like? You've got like a gazillion swords, Giles."
"Oh, well, it's the silver one with the gold and turquoise inlaid handle."
"Oooohhh, the pretty one!" Buffy's eyes lit in recognition.
"Uh, yes. The pretty one. Do you have it?" Giles sounded a mite offended at having such a rare and important weapon reduced to being described in such a trivial manner.
Xander chose that moment to show up on her doorstep. Luckily Giles had his back to the door, so Buffy was able to surreptitiously shoo him away and out of her watcher's potential sight. "Uh, ya know, I think I do have it laying around here somewhere. I tell you what. I'll check my room. Why don't you check the kitchen. See if it's laying around in there somewhere."
"You keep swords in the kitchen?" Giles eyed her in disbelief as she pushed him in the direction of the kitchen.
"It has a back door. I keep weapons at all entry points of the house. Don't forget to check beside the microwave stand," she called after him as he reluctantly left to inspect the room for his MIA sword.
As soon as he was out of sight Buffy stuck her head out onto the dark front porch. "Xander," she hissed softly, then jumped out of her skin when a hand fell on her shoulder. His arm was pinned behind his back before he knew what hit him.
"Buff! Buff, it's me!" He scrunched down, trying to loosen the strain on his shoulder.
"Oh, sorry," she grinned sheepishly as she released her grip. Xander massaged his arm and wondered if she had done any damage to his rotator cuff. "Look, have Anya move her car before Giles sees it."
"Where do you want us to park?"
"Down the block. In front of Mrs. Eagles house would be good."
Xander tried to remember the identity of Buffy's neighbor. "Is she the one with the flamingos in her front yard?"
"No, she's the one with all of the pinwheels. The flamingos belong to Dr. Stein. Now go! I've got to get rid of Giles so we can hit the road." She ushered him off her porch and quickly moved to her duffel bag.
Buffy withdrew the shining age old weapon and admired the patterns and color scheme. It really was very pretty. Shaking her head, she moved to the steps and stomped her feet like she was coming downstairs. "Giles, I found it," she called out.
Her watcher came into the room, shaking his head.
"What's wrong," she asked, truly confused. "I found your Sword of Illiad."
"Sword of Illio. . .oh, never mind. Buffy, you have a mace by the back door. Don't any of your mothers' friends find that a bit odd?"
"Oh, no. She makes a big joke out of it. She tells them she collects antiques for her art gallery sometimes, and then she tells everyone she uses it as a meat tenderizer. Surprisingly, it gets a laugh every time."
"I see. Well, I'll just take the sword and be on my way. I hope you and Riley have a nice weekend. You've been working awfully hard lately, what with Willow and Spike in LA. You deserve a bit of rest and relaxation."
Buffy actually felt guilty as she handed him the weapon and waved good-bye to Giles. It quickly passed, however as she watched him drive away in his mid-life-crisis-mobile. As soon as his taillights were out of sight, she grabbed her luggage and yelled upstairs to her mother she was leaving.
She hurried down the block to find Anya and Xander steaming up the windows in front of her neighbor's house. She tapped on the glass and the window rolled down to reveal an irritated looking ex-demon.
"Ready to roll," Buffy asked.
"I was trying, but you interrupted," Anya snapped.
"I meant, are we ready to leave? And can you pop the trunk? I'll just toss my stuff back there."
"Fine." Anya pulled the lever, releasing the back latch. Buffy shoved her suitcase in first, pushing it to the very back of the trunk. Anya's small suitcase and Xander's duffel bag didn't take up nearly as much space as her luggage. Maybe she had over-packed again. Nah! The slayer squeezed her overnight bag in on the side of the trunk and laid her duffel bag across the rest of the luggage before slamming down the trunk.
She moved to the side of the car and hopped in the back seat. "So, we're ready to go?"
"Ready and rarin', Buffster," Xander grinned at her from the front seat. "LA here we come."
Anya peeled out, making both Buffy and Xander grip anything they could get their hands on as they held on for dear life.
"Anya, you do have your license, don't you," Buffy asked, sounding slightly panicked.
"You need a license to do this," Anya asked, looking slightly surprised as her eyes met Buffy's in the rearview mirror.
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"A little higher. A little higher. Down just a little. No! Not that much. Yes! Yes! That's it. That's the spot. Perfect!"
Willow rolled her eyes as she pressed the banner on the wall, praying the double-sided tape stuck exactly where she wanted it. If she had to go through this with Cordy again, she just might kill the girl. She climbed down from the ladder, praying to her goddess as she did so that the tape would stay stuck. Backing up, she stood next to the seer and admired their handy work. Not bad.
"Good work, Willow. Now, we just need to hang the streamers." She walked over to the bags sitting on the front desk and pulled out rolls of white and blue crepe paper. Willow joined her at the table, helping to cut open the plastic bags and place the streamers in color coordinated piles.
Cordy looked at her out of the corner of her eye. She tried to sound casual as she asked her friend, "So, Wills, sounds like Wes is pretty close to finding the cure for your little problem. What are you going to do once you're back in tip top shape?"
"What do you mean?" Willow thought she knew what Cordelia was asking, but she didn't want to talk about it. She didn't really want to even think about it. Once she didn't need fed upon, could she just wave good-bye and head back to Sunnydale? Did she really want to? Would he want her to? Could she leave Angel behind? And what about Spike? She'd wind up getting him staked by Buffy.
"Are you going back to Sunnydale?" Cordelia turned and faced Willow head on. "Are you going to leave Angel and break his heart? Are you going to be able to stand up to the others when they have a 'Let's Stake Spike Party'? What are you going to do?"
Willow took a deep breath and answered as honestly as she could. "I don't know, Cordy. I just don't know."
"But you've been thinking about it?" The brunette peered closely at her friend and saw the worry in her eyes mingling with an unhealthy dose of confusion.
"It's practically all I've been thinking about since Wesley got the call from Turkey. They haven't asked me to stay. Maybe they don't want me to. Maybe they won't want me after I'm all fixed up and not a walking blood bank anymore." She looked positively miserable putting her fears into words. They always said problems didn't seem as bad if you talked your way through them. That theory seemed like a bunch of hooey if you asked her.
"What if they do," Cordy asked softly.
"I'll make a decision, then." Willow fingered the blue streamer lightly and pasted on one of the most fake smiles the seer had ever seen. "But for now, we've got a lobby to decorate. We'd better get a move on. The guests will be showing up and we'll still be stuck up on the ladders hanging streamers and missing out on all of those yummy appetizers you ordered." She took her rolls of decorations and headed back toward the ladder.
Cordy sighed to herself and followed her friend. God, she hoped everything worked out. . .and that no one important wound up staked in the heart, both literally and figuratively.
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