Chapter 16
Buffy comes to The Magic Box with sad, annoying and difficult news.
“What do you mean he still said no?” Willow asks after we’ve been regaled with the sordid tale of how a demon bank robbery interrupted her consolidation loan application. How she saved the bank employees and customers but had not seen the bank robbers given she’d been fighting with the demon, “The bank’s insured anyway.”
Willow follows Buffy into the back room where the training equipment is.
Dawn and I set to work grabbing books off the shelves to see if we can work out what type of demon this is based on Buffy’s rough description which involves a greyish green forehead which faded into a more tan/cream color, under the eyes. Ridges on the forehead, then a small nose and mouth which reminded her a bit of a fish, and small crooked sharp teeth. One of those preternaturally strong ones, which seems to be most of them, and could roar. It was wearing clothes though which points to a more sentient demon. Oh, and apparently little fin/spines up its arms, which goes back to a sort of fish/reptilian vibe.
“I don’t know about that book.” I move it from Dawn’s pile.
“Oh, come on. You can’t start saying I’m not old enough to do research now.” She folds her arms, sitting down next to me, “Do I have to speak again about how old Buffy, Willow and Xander were? I found out about this stuff when I was younger than Buffy was starting out.”
“I know, and you are very mature for your age, but it’s that book specifically that—”
“I’m fifteen. I’m a teenager.” A teenager who is not letting me finish my points, again, “If you don’t let me look, I’m going to learn everything I need to know about demons on the street.”
I give her a half-hearted sigh. Sometimes you have to let them fall on their own, “Alright.” I hand her the book back, “Knock yourself out then.”
“Thank you. See?” She opens the book about a third of the way through, “No biggie. I can totally handle it. I—” she pauses and adjusts the book and then rotates it, “That’s a weird place for a horn.” Her voice drops out, “That’s—that’s not a horn—” she hands me the book, “It’s not a horn, is it?”
I shake my head, taking the book back and handing her a different one from my pile. A much safer one images wise. There’s no merit in saying ‘I told you so’ though. She’s learned her lesson.
“I will trust your judgment on the books.” She remarks, gingerly opening the new one.
For a while we sit reading in silence as Xander and Anya continue whatever semi-heated conversation they’re having, which I’m not going to listen to. I am not.
After I’m moving onto the second book and Dawn is about halfway through her thicker volume. Xander follows Anya over to the table, “I still don’t get it.” He’s saying, “What kind of demon would rob a bank?”
“The kind that wants money.” Anya points out.
“What do you even call that?” Xander asks just as Dawn squeals excitedly.
“This?” she holds up the book towards them pointing at the picture. From this angle I can’t see, “but ridges, darker on top, arm spiny finny things. I’m guessing on the name…” she says turning the book back so she can read it, and I look over her shoulder to see the picture, which does seem to check off all of Buffy’s boxes, “It’s got an apostrophe, so I think it’s Mmm-Fash-nick, you know like ‘Mmm, cookies.’”
Xander sits down and takes the book from Dawn to look it over again. It’s Anya’s turn to look over a shoulder, “Maybe it’s Muh-Fash-nick.” He suggests like, “Muh…Muh—Fash-nick.” His tone suggests he feels a bit dumb about the proposition, and Anya pats his shoulder reassuringly.
Buffy and Willow come back out to join us. Dawn stands up, taking the book back from Xander and offers it to Buffy, excitedly, “This your guy?”
“You’re doing research now?” she asks, “Want a cappuccino and a pack of cigarettes to go with it?”
I feel my cheeks heating with embarrassment and guilt at violating a boundary. I remind myself I didn’t know it existed for Buffy. Then I remind myself that Buffy has always worked to keep things from Dawn so that she was cushioned. It seems so counter-intuitive now though given all that she’s been through and experienced with Glory, in particular, that we try to walk it back now.
“Would you just look at the picture?” Dawn taps it.
“He doesn’t fit the profile of your typical bank robber.” Xander remarks.
“Maybe they turned down his loan application.” Buffy remarks, giving Willow a brief smile. She takes the book from Dawn, finally, “That’s him. Our ‘big bad’. He’s strong, guys. He didn’t have any weapons with him that I could see, but…” and she’s staring off across the room, “still…real…dangerous.”
I follow where she’s looking and am slightly gratified and then in complete shock. Giles standing in the doorway holding luggage. They’re both staring at each other. I have to blink back tears of my own at his expression.
“Oh God, Buffy.” He drops the bags, and they approach each other. Anya skitters around the two of them to close and lock the door pulling the drape down and then back up to check the sign is flipped to closed and then pulling the drape back down. Xander goes and helps her with the blinds for the two main windows.
I feel a bit guilty, again, listening to their conversation. It feels like it should be just the two of them; but moving at this point is going to cause more fuss than solve.
“Willow told me,” Giles says, and it seems like a point he would normally clean his glasses, but he doesn’t, “I didn’t let myself believe…”
“I take a little getting used to—I’m still getting used to, you know, me.”
“It’s—you’re—” Giles grinds to a halt.
“A miracle?” she asks.
“Yes, but then I always thought so.”
I will not cry. I will not cry. He puts a hand on her cheek and his expression of love and happiness, and I manage it but only by inhaling a long breath and breathing it out again.
Fortunately for my composure they go into the back for a moment, and after another deep breath which has Willow looking at me concerned, I feel more centered again. I mouth an ‘I’m okay’ at her. She’s watching where Buffy and Giles went after that and looking a different sort of concerned. When I put my hand over hers she gives me a slightly watery smile, and then Dawn says:
“So, where is Giles going to stay? I don’t think he’s going to want to stay with you guys.” She looks to Xander and Anya, “No offense.”
“What offense?” Anya asks confused, “There is no room for him to stay, other than the couch, and based on things he’s said about couches before he does not want to sleep on—”
“ANYA!” Xander exclaims.
“What? I’m only saying—”
Xander is flicking his eyes towards Dawn and back. Dawn, to her credit, has gone into the index of the book and is studiously looking for other books she can cross-reference.
“If she’s old enough to look at the Studium Anatomicum Formae Daemonicae.” She pats a hand on the book I had switched out earlier, “She’s old enough to hear about—”
“That’s for Buffy to decide.” Xander hisses. He turns to us with a pleasant expression plastered across his face, “Anyway, no. Giles cannot stay with us.”
“He wouldn’t want to.” Dawn remarks, “That’s what I was saying. He gets uncomfortable enough when you guys get all kissy in public because you get a bit gropey too.”
“Dawn!” Willow exclaims, which I’m thinking but I think my face is too red at the moment for any words to come out of my mouth.
“I’m sure we can make room.” I point out, “If nothing else the couch is a pull out…” I realize we didn’t pull it out and check for glass shards from the window, “…which we can safety check, and so long as he doesn’t go in the basement he should be fine.”
“What’s wrong with the basement?” Dawn asks.
“The-the giant flood? Two by two…” I move my hands in an approximation of animals lining up.
“Oh, that’s no problem. Willow fhloomphed it.” Dawn says.
“Fhloomphed it?” I ask, looking at Willow.
“It’s fine.” She says, waving a hand, “I just pulled it from downstairs and put it down the sinks and bath tub.”
“You could have flooded the whole house—”
“But I didn’t.” she says, “Everything is copacetic.”
“We could have just rented a shop vac—”
“I have access to those.” Xander says, “You’re always more than happy to borrow.”
“We don’t need to now.” Willow points out, “Everything is cleaned up. I don’t suggest putting Giles in the basement to sleep though.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that.” I say, “I’m just not sure if he needs to do laundry or anything or if the machines were even safe to use…”
“I doubt the water never got up far enough to damage them.” Xander puts in, “They should be fine, but test them out first.”
“You would be an expert on laundry machines. You slept in a room with them for long enough.” Anya remarks, squeezing his hand in a comforting gesture.
“Thanks?” He queries.
Anya gets up to start towards the counter. I can’t remember if she counted down the cash register so maybe that’s it, but then she says, “Giles!” and rushes over to give him a hug, “We’re so glad to see you. We missed you!” she pulls away from the hug continuing, “You can’t have the store back.”
“I know.” He answers.
“You signed papers.”
“I did.” He comes towards the rest of us and Anya follows him back, “Do we have information on this new demon that I suddenly find desperately interesting?”
“It robs banks.” Willow explains, “Or at least helped to.”
“Really?” he sits down, cleaning his glasses.
“I found him.” Dawn hands over the book which she’s put a napkin in as a place holder.
Giles glances at the pages and furrows his brow, “M’Fashnik. Oh.”
“Aha!” Dawn looks at Xander triumphantly, “It is like Mmm, cookies.”
“You know it?” I ask before she and Xander can devolve the conversation into verbal sparring.
“By reputation.” Giles explains, “They come from a long line of mercenaries. They perform acts of mayhem and slaughter for the highest bidder.”
“They must love it here.” Xander remarks, “It is the American way.”
“The question now becomes—” Giles says, “What’s out there powerful enough to control one of these things?”
Buffy reappears just as I’m asking Giles if he has anywhere to stay, and Dawn asks him how long he’s here for and if he has to go back.
“I—I don’t know.” He’s saying, “About going back.” He clarifies, hastily, “The Council has their own confusion about Buffy being back.”
I knew they knew she was dead, “Another Slayer activated?” I ask instead of saying that.
“Uh, yes.” He says, but there’s something behind that, “and with Faith being safe, well relatively, in jail they knew it had to have been Buffy. Fo-fortunately they didn’t work it out for a little while, but I was threatened with being fired again.”
“They fired you?” Buffy asks.
“No. They forced me into early retirement, which does at least mean pension. Once they are properly aware you’re alive someone will come over here to assess that it’s not another ruse.”
“Ugh.” Several of us say.
“Does that mean we can get Buffy a salary during the negotiations?” Dawn asks.
“I, uh, don’t know how friendly to negotiations they’ll be considering the circumstances.” He says.
“Doesn’t hurt to try.” Dawn mutters leaning back and folding her arms.
Giles nods, cleaning his glasses again.
“As for a place to sle—”
“You can stay with us.” Buffy says, quickly, “Why would you think that you couldn’t?”
“I wasn’t sure that you had space.” He remarked, “and it’s not too late for me to book a hotel. They’re decently priced around here.”
“No.” Buffy says, “Please stay with us, especially with the M’Fashnik roaming around, and us not knowing how to vanquish it yet.”