Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss Whedon. I get nothing but satisfaction from borrowing them.
Continued thanks to the reviewers who brighten my day!
 
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Chapter 9: Fission

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Anya got home around six, to find Xander at the table surrounded by a collection of empty beer bottles. He had driven all over Sunnydale trying to calm himself down. But all he saw were nicer cars than his, nicer houses than his, and people who looked better than he did. Cali-fucking-fornia. All the Shiny Happy People in the universe concentrated in one place. He drove past his parents’ house, taking in the unkempt lawn, the trim that needed painting. Of course Dad won’t do anything around the house now that his free labor moved out. No wonder I’m such a loser. I was bred and raised by losers. There must be a dominant Loser gene in the whole Harris line. Finally he gave up and stopped at a liquor store.
 
Through bloodshot eyes he looked up at Anya, trying to get it down to one image of her, settling for one and a half Anyas as the best his blurred vision could manage. “So you’re home. Run out of things to sell?”
 
“You’re drunk,” Anya said needlessly. “What’s the point of earning all this money if you’re going to drink it all up in one afternoon?” Disgusted, she turned to go into the bedroom.
 
Xander leaped up, scattering bottles, and grabbed her arm, spinning her around. “This is my money too! The apartment’s in my name,” he yelled. “No one else’s girlfriend treats them like this. Everyone else I know has a girlfriend who actually loves them for more than money and sex!”
 
“Fuck you, Xander!” Anya screamed back. “Do your friends with these perfect girlfriends spend all their days worrying about other women? Or am I the only one so blessed?”
 
“What the hell do you mean, other women?”
 
“Willow. Buffy. I could be bleeding on the street and you’d step over me if Willow had a hangnail. We could be in the middle of having sex and if Buffy called, you’d be out the door before you zipped your pants!” Anya retorted.
 
“That’s not true and you know it!” Xander barked. At the same time, a small sober corner of his brain started flashing a warning. Do you even know what you’re fighting about? What the hell is this all about? This is Anya! Shut up before you wreck this forever!
 
“I’m done with this,” Anya said finally. She marched into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Xander pounded on the door and begged her to come out and talk to him, but there was no reply. Anya had grabbed her two large suitcases from the closet and rapidly filled them with all her clothes and jewelry. She took the money from under the mattress, as well as all the change on Xander’s dresser. She grabbed the savings account passbook as well. No way is he getting his hands on this. She opened the door and marched out, shoving Xander aside.
 
“Anya, please, I’m sorry,” Xander pleaded. “Anya I don’t know what’s wrong with me, it’s like I can’t control it would you please listen to me?” He was vaguely aware that tears were forming in his eyes.
 
Anya wavered for a moment, but finally said, “I need a break, Xander. I’m not going to be the punching bag you use to work out your issues. When you’re done being jealous of the entire world and ready to appreciate what you have, let me know.” With that she picked up her bags and walked out.
 
Xander collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs, stunned. He reached for the last beer, and drank it with tears running down his face and blank eyes staring at the closed door.
 
********************
 
Tara woke from her doze when Willow entered her room. “Hey, sweetie, how are you feeling?” Willow said warmly, kissing Tara on the forehead and stroking her hair.
 
“Still nauseous,” said Tara. “But now I’m hungry again. I tried having something to eat earlier. Big mistake.”
 
“How can you still be hungry? I would think that you’d be off your lunch for a month after this episode,” Willow joked.
 
“I don’t know, Will,” said Tara. “I’ve never been like this. It’s like something is driving me to eat, regardless of whether I need to or not.”
 
“You know, Giles is worried that Dawn and Buffy might be under some sort of spell. I wonder if he could be on to something.”
 
Tara sat up a bit. “You… you didn’t cast any sort of spell on them, did you?”
 
Willow was instantly irritated. “Why does everyone keep asking me that? It’s not like I go around cursing my friends for fun!”
 
“Hey, relax, ok?” Tara soothed. “It’s just that you’ve been trying a lot of new spells lately, and they don’t always come out 100% perfect. No one is accusing you of hurting people on purpose.”
 
Willow was somewhat mollified by Tara’s reassurance. “I could do a spell to see if you are under the influence of magic. Then we’d know for sure if it was something beyond your control or not.”
 
Tara hesitated. “Willow, I don’t want you to feel I don’t trust you, but right now I feel so crappy that I’m afraid magic might make it worse.”
 
“Tara, please?” Willow begged. “All I’m going to do is a detection spell. If you’re being affected by a spell, you should glow, that’s all.” Giles’ warning about intensifying the effect if she screwed it up echoed softly in the back of her mind, but she firmly ignored it.
 
Tara still seemed reluctant. “I don’t know, Willow…”
 
“Just relax,” Willow said, dismissing Tara’s doubts. Willow closed her eyes and concentrated. “May all spells reveal their power!” she spoke in a deep voice.
 
For a moment, nothing happened. No glow settled on Tara, nothing odd occurred. Willow was relieved. “Well, at least we know it’s nothing supernatural…”
 
Suddenly Tara clutched her stomach and groaned. I thought I was hungry before, but now… She literally felt as if she had been without food for a month. Her stomach cramped and growled, and she doubled up in misery. “Willow?”
 
Willow flew to her side. “Tara, baby, what is it?”
 
“I’m hungry. I’m so hungry it hurts. Please, get me something, anything. I need something in my stomach now!”
 
Willow rummaged in her purse and found a granola bar. Tara snatched it and wolfed it down, the food easing the pain only slightly. “Please, more. I really need something more,” Tara moaned.
 
Willow dashed out to the nurse’s station. “My girlfriend says she’s really hungry. Is there anything we can give her?”
 
The nurse looked curiously at Willow. “I know she’s hungry, but she just got over food poisoning. Giving her a lot to eat right now is just going to upset her stomach again. I can bring her some jello in a few minutes though.”
 
“Please do,” Willow said. She returned to Tara’s room to find Tara rifling her purse. Tara had found a pack of mints in the bottom and had chewed through all of them, and was now looking to see if anything else edible could be found. “Tara, relax! They’re going to bring you some jello, ok?”
 
“It hurts, Willow!” Tara repeated. “If this is what famine feels like then I am donating every spare cent I have to Oxfam or something because this is torture.”
 
Willow stroked Tara’s hair while her mind raced. Could it really have been my spell that did this? Is she really under some magical influence? Did I just make it worse? She didn’t want to believe that she could do something to hurt the woman she loved. I’m a better witch than this! How could this have happened?
 
When the nurse came in with the jello, Tara practically snatched it from her hands. She gobbled it down in four spoonfuls while the nurse watched with wide eyes. “Slow down there! You’re just going to make yourself sick again,” scolded the nurse.
 
“Please, I need some more. Can I have some more?” Tara sounded like a female version of Oliver Twist.
 
“Ok, but you need to take it easy,” said the nurse. A few minutes later she appeared with another bowl of jello, which disappeared as rapidly as the first. She left, shaking her head as Tara lay back.
 
“Any better?” asked Willow hopefully.
 
“Not much,” Tara admitted. She seemed to be winning the nausea battle, but the hunger was barely dented. Tara tossed about on the bed for a few minutes, then sat up. “I need to get out of here,” she said. She pulled the IV needle out of her arm with a wince.
 
“Tara, what are you doing?” Willow asked, alarmed.
 
Tara got up, swayed slightly, and made her way to the closet where her clothes were. She threw open the door and started getting dressed. The nurse came back while she was pulling on her shirt. “Where do you think you’re going?” she inquired. “You’re in no shape to be up and about.”
 
“I need to go home,” Tara said, fighting back her lightheadedness. “The fever is gone, and I seem to be keeping the jello down. I just… need to go.” With that Tara made her way out the door, leaving the nurse stunned behind her.
 
Willow chased after her. “Tara? Are you sure this is a good idea?”
 
“I’m going to go crazy if I don’t get some food. Now.” Tara replied. She headed, still somewhat unsteadily, toward the nearest campus dining hall. Willow followed her as she got in line and loaded up her tray with soup, chili, two sandwiches, a plate of pasta, and three different pieces of pie. Willow stared in amazement as she carried this enormous pile shakily to a table and started eating like there was no tomorrow.
 
“Tara, stop!” Willow said frantically. “You need to stop this!”
 
Tara all but snarled at Willow. “This is my food. I’m eating it. Get your own, or get away from me. Your stupid spell made me hungrier than ever, and if you can’t deal with the consequences of that then just leave me alone so I can eat.” With that she returned to scarfing down her meal.
 
Willow was stunned. Tara never, ever snapped at her like that. Even when they had disagreed in the past, Tara barely raised her voice. “Tara, baby, something is wrong. Something is very wrong. This isn’t like you at all.”
 
“I said leave me alone!” Tara growled sharply. Her stomach was protesting the sudden infusion, and the nausea was rising again. If someone would just get out of my face so I can concentrate on my food then I could maybe get this all down without puking!
 
“I’m going to go talk to Giles,” Willow said, backing away slightly. “We’ve got to figure this out.”
 
“Fine. Do that. Just get away from me and stop trying to fix me with your magic. You’re just making it worse,” Tara said angrily. She turned away and reached for a piece of pie.
 
Biting back hurt tears, Willow turned and left the cafeteria, heading once more for the Magic Box.
 
*****************
 
Joyce turned the car into the driveway. “Dawn! Are you asleep again?” she asked incredulously. Dawn had dozed off in the back seat during the ten minute drive from the Magic Box.
 
Dawn sat up. “I was just closing my eyes for a minute,” she said. She grabbed her backpack and followed her mother and sister inside.
 
Buffy left her wet shoes in the front hall and said, “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the shower.” She peeled off her wet clothes and left them in a miserable looking heap on the bathroom floor. She turned the water on as hot as she could stand it and stood there for a while, just letting the water flow down her back, trying to relax. As she started soaping herself, she couldn’t help remembering Spike’s hands on her breasts. Bastard. How did I get here? I’m pissed at life itself and craving a demon. Hello? Vampire slayer? Not supposed to be screwing the prey! Never did get around to reading the Slayer Handbook, but I’m pretty sure that’s probably in there somewhere. She sighed and shampooed her hair, completely failing to come up with a way to solve this dilemma. He was a vampire. She was supposed to slay vampires. She kept having sex with this vampire. Incredible, mind blowing, astronomically good sex. And it was the only thing that was keeping her temper even remotely in check. Shit. Shit. Shit.
 
She turned off the shower and stepped out, toweling off and combing out her hair. She noticed the bite marks on her breast then. Well at least those are easier to hide. She found the ones on her neck had faded to the point where concealer was no longer needed, but clearly she was going to have to have a talk with Mr. Bitey about leaving evidence. Or you could just come to your senses and stop this insanity. Shaking her head, she went to go find some clothes.
 
On her way downstairs she passed Dawn’s room. Dawn had spread out her books on her bed, and was asleep with her head right in the middle of one of them, snoring. Buffy looked at the hall clock. It’s, what, five o’clock? And she’s asleep? She continued down the stairs.
 
Joyce was making dinner as Buffy entered the kitchen. “Is Dawn working on her homework?” she asked.
 
“No,” said Buffy in an irritated tone. “Unless she’s trying to absorb information through her face while she sleeps.”
 
“What on earth could be the matter?” Joyce said, her worry clearly evident. “Giles was wondering if it could be a spell or something.”
 
Buffy grabbed a carrot and munched it while she pondered that idea. “Could be, I suppose. But who would want to cast a spell on Dawn?”
 
“Giles thought that maybe you both were affected,” Joyce said, watching Buffy carefully for her reaction.
 
“What?” Buffy said, cocking her head to the side. “I’m not the one sleeping her life away.”
 
“Yes, but you have been unusually angry lately,” Joyce continued. “Do you even know what you’re so angry about?”
 
“Oh, I don’t know,” Buffy began. “Hmm. My mom was in the hospital, my boyfriend left, and there’s this hell god who wants me dead, what could I possibly be angry about?” Her voice had risen to a near shout.
 
“Now you wait just a minute here,” said Joyce firmly. “I will not have you snapping at me like this. I am only trying to help you.”
 
Buffy exploded. “Help? How is this helping? How is having everyone rag on me when I’m already stressed helping at all?” In a fit of rage she grabbed a vase off the table and flung it at the wall, pulverizing it into a million pieces.
 
“Buffy!” screamed Joyce. Buffy turned on her mother, and Joyce backed away nervously at the red hot fury in her daughter’s eyes.
 
Then Buffy stopped and fisted her hands in her hair. Looking at her mom with terrified eyes she said, “I don’t know what’s going on. I can’t control it. I just… I can’t… I’ve got to go.” She turned and ran out of the house, leaving Joyce stunned in her wake.
 
Joyce went upstairs to check on Dawn, whom she was sure must be cowering in fright from the screaming and the noise. To her dismay, she found Dawn in the same state Buffy had reported – completely passed out on top of her history book. “Dawnie?” she said, shaking her daughter gently. Dawn yawned and rolled over, but otherwise showed no sign of waking up. “Dawn!” Joyce called louder, shaking her even harder. Dawn gave no response whatsoever. She just slept on, unheeding, as her mother’s calls got more frantic.
 
Joyce went running down the stairs to the phone. With shaking fingers she dialed the Magic Box.
 
“Magic Box, this is Giles,” came the voice on the other end.
 
“Oh Giles, something’s wrong,” said Joyce frantically.
 
“Joyce?” Giles replied, sitting up straighter in his chair. “What’s happening?”
 
“I can’t wake Dawn up!” Joyce wailed. “I keep calling and shaking her and she won’t wake up. And Buffy just completely flipped out. She smashed a vase against a wall, and for a second there I truly thought she was going to… hurt me or something.”
 
“Where is Buffy now?” Giles asked. Buffy would never hurt her mother in a million years if she was in her right mind. Something has got to be wrong here.
 
“I don’t know. She ran out the door about ten minutes ago. Giles, what should I do?”
 
“Just stay there and keep watch over Dawn. I’m sure Buffy will come here at some point. I’m going to work on trying to figure out what this spell is that is making them all act so strangely.”
 
“Please keep me informed, Giles,” Joyce said.
 
“I will. I promise.” They said their goodbyes and hung up. Giles started pacing around looking at the books on his bookshelf, trying to figure out where to start. As far as I can tell, Willow, Buffy, Dawn, Anya, Xander, and Tara are all affected by something. A curse maybe? But how could they all get cursed at once? Perhaps when they were together at the Bronze? At Buffy’s house? But why wasn’t Joyce affected? Could have happened here, I suppose, but I wasn’t affected. Hmm.
 
His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. In walked Anya, carrying two large suitcases. “Anya?” said Giles. “Where on earth are you going?”
 
“Giles, can I please just leave these here until I figure out where I’m going?” Anya said, a slight quiver in her voice. “Xander and I… we had a big fight. I don’t know if I’ll be going back there or not.”
 
“Oh dear. What happened?” he asked sympathetically. He took the suitcases and put them in the training room while she followed. She sat down on the couch in there and poured out her tale, crying the whole time.
 
“…so I told him I needed a break. I can’t deal with him being more concerned with what everyone else has than what we have together.” She blew her nose loudly. Giles patted her shoulder awkwardly.
 
“I’m more convinced than ever that some sort of spell or curse is going on around here. You’re all acting very out of character lately.”
 
Anya started guiltily. Could it be that book of curses I sold? The hand of glory? All of her previous reservations about selling dangerous things came flooding back. Did I do something supremely stupid out of greed? She was still trying to come up with a good answer for Giles when the door bell rang again.
 
Willow came dashing in, looking frantic. “Giles! Are you here?”
 
Giles came out of the training room. “Willow? What’s wrong?”
 
“It’s Tara. I…” She swallowed, forcing herself to continue. “I tried to see if she was under a spell.”
 
“After I specifically warned you against using magic?” Giles yelled. “What happened?”
 
“She had stopped throwing up and was hungry. But after the spell, she just went crazy. She left the health center and went to the cafeteria and started eating everything in sight. She’s not herself! I don’t know what to do!” Willow wailed.
 
“Alright, just calm down,” Giles said, trying to soothe the hysterical girl. “Exactly what spell did you do?”
 
“I…um… I did the spell we talked about earlier…” Willow muttered, her face turning as red as her hair.
 
“The one I said would intensify the effects if it went wrong?” Giles said sternly.
 
“Y..yes,” said Willow in a small voice.
 
Giles pinched the bridge of his nose for what felt like the ten thousandth time that day. “Ok. There is clearly some malevolent force at work here. We need to start looking at curses. Who could be cursing us, and how? Willow and Anya, I want you to start by…”
 
Once again Giles was interrupted by the door as Buffy slammed her way in. She marched over to Willow and grabbed her by the collar. “What the fuck did you do?” she snarled.
 
Willow’s eyes grew wide as she squeaked, “Me? I didn’t do anything to you! What are you talking about?”
 
Buffy held on and said, “I just damn near threw a vase at my mother! I don’t know what the fuck is going on but I’m beyond angry, and I don’t think it’s a fucking coincidence that you just happened to be doing ten billion spells this week.”
 
“Buffy!” Giles shouted. “Let her go this instant! She is not to blame for this!”
 
“How do you know, Giles?” Buffy yelled back, still holding Willow by the shirt. “She’s forever throwing spells, never thinks about the aftereffects for a second. Who else could it be?”
 
“Release!” cried Willow, as her eyes darkened and power flowed through her. Buffy found herself flung backward, to end in a sprawled position on the floor.
 
“That is enough!” shouted Giles. Finally, his voice penetrated the red fog in the girls’ brains and they both paused, breathing hard and shaking a bit. “Now can we please just all sit down and try to figure this out?”
 
Willow and Buffy slowly moved to opposite sides of the table, sitting down carefully as if the table was rigged with explosives. Anya, who had been watching from the door of the training room, moved slowly over to the bookshelves. “Let me get down the books we have on curses. We can start there, ok?” Warily eyeing each other, the four of them started going through books, reading and taking notes until the sun started setting outside, but getting no closer to an answer.
 
The bell over the door rang yet again, and Giles had to stifle a very undignified scream. Now what? He turned to see Xander, looking much the worse for wear. His hair was a mess, and his breath reeked of beer. “Dear lord, Xander, what happened to you?” Giles asked, although he was not sure he wanted to hear the answer.
 
“Is Anya here?” he asked. Then he spied her over by the bookcases. He ran over and threw himself at her feet. “Anya, please listen to me. Don’t leave me. I can’t live without you. I can’t be the only single guy in town. Please!” he begged.
 
“Xander, get up,” Anya said, embarrassed by his behavior. “You’re drunk. We can’t discuss this until you sober up. Besides, we’ve got a bit of a situation here. We think someone’s cursed us.”
 
“Cursed!” scoffed Xander, staggering to his feet. “You don’t know what it’s like to be cursed. You’ve gotten to live for a thousand years, doling out the vengeance, traveling all over the world, while I’ve been stuck my whole life here in Sunnydale.” He turned to the others. “You’ve got all your magic and your superpowers, and all I’ve got is a crappy job and a has-been vengeance demon who doesn’t even need me unless I’ve got the money or she needs her itch scratched!”
 
“Xander, that was entirely uncalled for!” Giles snapped. Anya had started crying again, and Giles came over to give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
 
Xander’s eyes widened. “I knew it! I knew something was going on between you two! All those hours you’d rather be at the shop than with me!” He came over and shoved Giles away from Anya angrily.
 
“Xander, back off!” snapped Buffy, getting up and coming around the table to get between him and Giles.
 
“Sure, take his side, like always!” cried Xander. “Sorry I didn’t get to go to college for a million years so I could be like Mr. Tweed over there.”
 
“Xander, cut it out!” Buffy growled, stepping completely in front of Giles.
 
Xander continued like he hadn’t heard. “You’ve always wanted her! Always had to take what was mine, all of you!” he raved.
 
“I said, SHUT UP!” roared Buffy. Her fist flew out and connected with Xander’s jaw at maximum force. Xander flew across the room, striking his head on a bookshelf and coming to rest on the floor, unconscious.
 
“Xander!” cried Anya. She ran over to him, with Willow and Giles close behind. His face was slack and he lolled bonelessly on the floor. A pool of blood was gathering on the floor next to his head. Anya’s hysterical voice penetrated Buffy’s rage-clouded mind. “Oh God! You killed him! Buffy you killed him!”
 
TBC