Peering over the till, the ex-vengeance demon harumpfed at the sight of the young red-headed witch sitting on one of the tables in deep concentration, sprinkling ingredients around in a circle.
“What is she doing?”
Sighing, and looking up from the mystical products he and Tara were arranging on the shelf, the ex-librarian and co-owner of the Magic Box answered her. “We’ve been through this before Anya. Given the nature of the magic involved and its advanced level, we agreed she should start small and with supervision, in case anything goes wrong. Teleportation is hardly easy to master, even for a witch as powerful as Willow is getting to be.” After a pause, he adds, “And besides, she did pay for all the ingredients.”
Clearly not satisfied with the answer, Anya crosses her arms. “That still doesn’t explain why she has to do it here. Why can’t she go fail at Buffy’s house? What if she teleports the wrong thing and sends my merchandise to the other side of the world?” Suddenly stricken by a horrible thought, she continues. “Or… Or what if she teleports her thing and it appears inside some of my merchandise? I’ve seen it before in my demon days. It always messy!”
“Gee, thanks Anya. I’m touched by your concern for my house,” the blonde slayer shot back sarcastically, momentarily distracted from her bored fiddling of some slightly shiny orb she found lying on a shelf.
“Well, they’re not my possessions,” Anya replies defensively. “This isn’t socialism. And stop playing with that! It’s valuable!”
Looking over from his seat, Xander reaches out and playfully grabs the orb from Buffy’s hand and movs to place it back on a shelf, receiving a happy grin from his girlfriend in return.
“Hey,” the slayer exclaims, disgruntled. “I wasn’t done with that!” She then lunges towards her friend, hoping to regain the orb so she can return to her fiddling. Startled, Xander flails backwards, almost flipping over his chair, and inadvertently throwing up the orb and the comic book he was reading.
Before the orb can smash against the ground, a hand reaches out and deftly catches it. Looking up, Buffy and Xander see the stern eyes of a watcher glaring at them. “Now, if you’re both done being a nuisance, perhaps you’d enjoy doing something helpful for once.” Gesturing towards the shelfs, he continues, “There’s no shortage of shelf sorting to be done.”
Moaning unhappily, the two friends get up to help Giles and Tara. But just at that moment the door to the shop flies open, the bell ringing loudly, and a black mass throws itself in. Smoking lightly, a blanket is dramatically tossed of, revealing a certain bleach blonde vampire underneath.
“He certainly knows how to make an entrance, doesn’t he?” Anya points out from behind the counter, a mild tone of admiration slipping into her sentence, gaining a jealous stare from her boyfriend.
“Well, hey, look who it is!” Xander exclaims loudly and sarcastically, trying to imitate a circus ringmaster. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Incredible Spike! He can’t pinch himself without giving himself a headache, he can’t take a walk in the sunshine without frying like an egg and he can’t bear to be without his safety blanket. Oh, with what inability shall he amaze us next?”
“Very funny,” the neutered vampire replies, just as sarcastically.
“So, um, why are you here Spike?” Giles asks, with a bit of a patronising tone. “Something we can help you with perhaps?”
Smiling naughtily, the vampire replies, “No. But maybe I can help you with something.” Pausing for dramatic effect, he looks around the room. “I’ve got some info on a new Big Bad that I thought you might be interested in.”
Interrupting, Xander challenges Spike with suspicion in his tone. “And I suppose your doing this out of the goodness of your heart? Your dried-up shriveled heart?”
Smirking, the vampire answers. “Well, I was thinking maybe an exchange. More specifically, I give you this important information, and you give me some of that.” He points to the large wad of money Anya is flipping through happily.
‘Or how about you give us the info, and we don’t introduce your heart to Mr. Pointy?” Xander threatens, not enjoying the vampire’s continued presence in the store.
Spike’s about to fire back, when an angry shout fills the room. “Will you all shut up?” Staring angrily from the table, Willow continues shouting. “I’m trying to concentrate!”
After everyone else shuts up, and she huffs, and lowers her voice. “Now, I’m think I’m ready to try this out.”
As the gang gathers around the table, eager to watch, Willow finalises the preparations for her spell, not noticing Xander’s comic, thrown up into the air in surprise, has landed behind her, on the table, smudging her mystical circle.
“If I’ve got everything right, I should make this soccer ball jump from here to the front door. If it works alright, I’ll start trying different things and sending them further. Eventually,” she adds with an excited smile, “I’ll even be able to teleport things without needing any preparation!”
“So, here goes nothing!”
*******
Pushing open the door to the Magic Box, the bell tinkering lightly, an elderly couple walks in, hand in hand.
“Hello?”
After no one answers, they try again.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
Still getting no answer, they shrug, and turn to leave the empty store.
“If they’re closed, they should have the decency to flip their open/closed sign. It’s the middle of the day, really! Young people these days and their lunch breaks… Though I could have sworn that I just saw somebody run in!”
*******
Yay. Lunch time. Always the highlight of my day. They make you line up, and then shuffle forward slowly so they can slap their slop onto these stupid plastic trays. I think today’s is supposed to be pasta. But hey, I guess the path to redemption isn’t supposed to be easy.
And anyways, it brings back happy memories of childhood. When she was drunk as usual, my mum would just shove whatever weeks-old crap she had in the fridge into the microwave, and then tried to get me to eat it. I figured out pretty quickly that…
Fuck.
Halfway to my usual table, I get hit by a wrenching blow to the gut, sending me collapsing face first to my knees, my tray spilled all over the floor. What the hell was that? There’s nobody even near me, and now they’re all standing up and laughing at me.
Oh god.
Loss. Deep. Painful. I’ve lost something, and now I’m so damn empty.
I barely have time to let out a strangled sob, before my gut wrenches itself again. The world goes black, and falls out from under me.
*******
“Tell me about the incident,” the stern prison chief demands in a frustrated tone.
“It’s inmate Faith Lehane, sir,” one of the guards reply nervously. “She’s doing time for murder. She’s a loner and not entirely all right up here, but she stays out of trouble. The guards like her for that, which doesn’t make her popular with the other prisoners of course. But they found out the hard way not to mess with her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so tough.”
“And now you say she’s vanished?”
Looking at each other for a moment, another guard finally finds the courage to speak up. “Well, um, that’s the thing. You might want to have a look at the security tapes, sir.”
Drawing his boss’s attention to the security monitors, the guard plays back the video of the incident, captured by the prison’s security cameras.
Looking at the footage, they all see the inmate grab her tray, get her food, and then start down the row between the tables to find a seat. She then falls to the ground, sending her tray flying, and a second later, just pops out of existence, leaving nothing behind.
“Play that again.” The chief quickly demands in an awed tone.
After a couple more replays, the chief slumps back against the wall. “How the hell are we going to explain that?”
*******
Their world having gone black just a split second ago, the Scoobies are startled when they suddenly find themselves in a very bright place. The ones sitting on chairs fall backwards onto their asses, the support of the chair now gone, and poor Willow, once sitting on a table, falls about a metre into a ground of hot, soft sand, the soccer ball falling with her, bouncing of her head.
After a second, before they have time to adjust to their new surroundings, Spike cries out in alarm. “Ah, sun! Sun!” Flailing about, both trying to find cover and to shield himself with his leather jacket, the vampire begins to smoke. A couple of the Scoobies make a start to try and help him, but they’re too late, and he bursts into flames. After one final scream, only dust remains.
After a couple of seconds, Anya finally breaks the stunned silence. “Well, he certainly knows how to make an exit!”
Snapping back to their senses, with a few shrugs and a muttered “Good riddance!” from Xander, the Scoobies look around them to appraise the situation.
They’re in the middle of a large desert, sand dunes stretching around them for ages. There’s hardly a cloud in the sky, and the sunlight is beating down hard on them.
“Hey, look!” Buffy excitedly shouts, pointing out to a break between a couple of dunes. “I think I see something over there!”
As they all gather to peer off where Buffy pointed, Giles takes lead. “Yes, I do think I see something. A city perhaps?”
After a pause to consider their options, the watcher continues, “I would propose that we start heading over there, find out where we are exactly, get some water and get out of this damn sun.”
*******
Getting to the top of the final dune before they reach the city, the Scoobies take a quick moment to catch their breath. Giles is now draping his tweed blazer over his shoulder, Buffy’s grumbling about the sand ruining her shoes, and Willow’s forlornly still carrying the soccer ball.
Before they have the chance to make the final short walk to their destination, Xander stops, and gasps. “Oh my god. The architecture. The sand. The two suns. I know where we are. We’re on Tatooine!”
“This. Is. The. Best. Day. Of. My. Life!” Xander practically squeals as the excitement of where they are hits him. “This is so freaking cool!”
“It may be many things Xander,” Giles says, frowning under the glare of the suns, “but ‘cool’ is not a word I would have used.”
After a moment’s silence, Tara speaks up, “Um, hey guys? This is cool, but don’t you think it might be a good idea to, you know, get out of the sun before we get heatstroke or something?”
“Get out of the suns, you mean,” Xander adds with a grin, with an emphasis on the “s.”
“Yeah, it is getting kinda hot,” the witch’s girlfriend says, grimacing in discomfort.
“Yes, that would be quite a good idea,” the group’s watcher says, clearly the most affected by the heat and anxious to get under the shade. “And there might be someone in that town how can help us figure out how we got here.”
After another moment’s silence, during which the Scoobies all nod their heads in agreement, Giles speaks up again, gesturing towards the town. “Well, shall we?”
*******
After arriving to the outskirts of the town, the gang headed right to the first bar they could find, hoping to find someone with information there. Inside, they grab a table and start trying their luck.
“Damn it. That one looks exactly like a Mynor demon. You’d think it would speak something similar to the Mynor language,” a dejected Giles mutters, slumping back into his chair. He had picked out a couple of the bar’s occupants that he thought looked like demons he recognised, and approached them using the appropriate demonic language. All he got back were blank stares.
“Well, they’re not demons Giles,” Xander corrects him, his voice low as if he was afraid some of the bar’s occupants would be offended, “They’re aliens.”
“Some demons are aliens,” Tara adds helpfully.
“Maybe I could try Klingon?” Xander suggests. “I only know a couple of words, but…”
Sighing, Anya rolls her eyes before joining the conversation. “You’re going about this the wrong way Giles. You need to be more direct. Like this.” She then gets up, stands in front of their table, and shouts loudly, carefully pronouncing each syllable, “Does anyone here speak English? My friends and me need help.” She gestures at herself and the table with the rest of gang, illustrating her point.
The small bar falls silent as everyone turns to look at them.
“See,” the ex-vengeance demon says proudly, “That wasn’t that hard.”
Her smile falters though, as the bartender turns and glares at them, before speaking in a heavily-accented English. “If you want to harass my customers, you better buy a drink first.”
Still trying to smile, Anya turns to her friends, and asks quietly, “Does anyone have any money?”
*******
Having been promptly kicked out of the bar, the Scoobies regroup under the shade of a doorstep nearby to figure out their next move.
“Of course we need money!” Anya proclaims testily, as if it they all missed the obvious. “Does anyone have any space dollars?”
“Credits,” her boyfriend corrects automatically.
“Huh?”
“Credits,” he clarifies, “It’s the money they use here.”
“Ah. So, does anyone have any credits?” The ex-demon asks hopefully.
When everyone shakes their heads, she sighs dejectedly. “Well, we need to find money somehow, or we’re never going to survive this place. Hey, maybe we can get Buffy to mug an alien!”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Giles says in exasperation, removing his glasses to wipe them, “We aren’t mugging anyone. Alien planet or not, we should still hold ourselves to a certain standard. And I’m sure they have laws against that.”
“Oh, hey, I have an idea!” Willow jumps up excitedly, waving the soccer ball she’s still carrying around. “Maybe they have a market or something and we could try selling this.”
“That’s a good idea,” her girlfriend adds in support, before digging into her pockets. “Do we have anything else with us that we could try selling?”
As everyone starts rummaging through their pockets, Giles notices that Buffy, still seated on the ground, looks rather uncomfortable.
“Are you okay Buffy? You’ve been rather quiet.” He asks tenderly.
“Hm? Oh, um, yeah,” she replies. “It’s just that since we got to town, my slayer senses have been, like, super tingly. It’s like I can feel everybody in town.”
Concerned, her watcher kneels down to make sure she’s really okay. “You can feel everyone? Could you be experiencing a relapse from the time when you were infected by those psychic demons?”
“No, I don’t think so. It’s not like that. It’s different. Different feelies.” Looking a Giles, she tries to reassure him. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. It’s just a little overwhelming at first. Let’s just make sure we don’t stay in this town too long. I don’t trust it.”
“That might be the best idea I’ve heard all day.” Standing back up, and reaching out a hand to help his slayer up, he turns to the rest of group. “Well then, let’s go find a market.”
*******
It didn’t take long for the Scoobies to find the central market in town. Once there, they split up to go around peddling what few items they have on them. After a couple of hours, they meet back on the edge of the market, to pool together the few credits they had been able to earn.
“Can you believe it?” Anya shouts out in disbelief. “This one alien gives me a few credits for the bills of American dollars I had. So, obviously I sell them, because I don’t suppose they’ll be much use here. But then he eats them! Right in front of me!”
“He… ate them?” Her boyfriend asks, not sure if he’s understand properly.
“Yes! He ate them. He ate the dollars! Don’t aliens have any respect for money?”
Sharing the stories of what they were able to sell, it turns out Willow’s soccer ball brought in the most credits. “I wish I had more balls,” the redhead sighs.
“I don’t,” her girlfriend whispers back to her cheekily, earning a blush, while the rest of the gang tries to decide on a plan.
As they stand around and argue, a tall, lanky alien walks up behind Giles, and taps him on the shoulder. Turning around, and feeling very much out of his element, the watcher snaps. “What? Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something here?”
Raising its hands, the aliens quickly apologises. “Ah, sorry, sorry. But meesa like your jacket. Meesa want to buy it from yousa,” it adds, pointing to the tweed jacket Giles was still carrying around. “Meesa want to buy it!” He then offers them a price more than triple the credits they’ve already accumulated.
“What? No. You can’t…” Giles starts to protest, before relenting under Anya’s harsh glare.
Watching the alien saunter away happily, wearing the tweed jacket, the watcher sighs in indignation. “That was my favourite jacket.”
“Well, it was either that, or have Buffy mug someone. And I think he pulls of the ‘stuffy tweed look’ nicely,” Xander says, taking the chance to mock Giles.
“Well now that we have some money, why don’t we try another bar?” Buffy asks, hopefully. “Maybe we’ll have better luck finding someone with information there?”