Gilded Death

Things were not what he had wanted. Complications he had expected, but nothing like the little blonde duo. He was missing something, a weakness, a breaking point. Something. Anything. He needed them gone, no matter what it took. All of his carefully calculated plans would work out so much more smoothly if they were just…gone.

“You’re the new evil in town. I need a job. Give me a job,” a girl interrupted his stewing.

The Mayor slowly turned toward the voice, “Excuse me?”

“Are all authority figures this dense?” the voice snapped to no one in particular.

“Miss, I’m really not in the mood to entertain citizens. I need you to leave, and please don’t touch the desk. Germs, I hate them,” The Mayor said in a strained voice.

“So, are you going to give me a job?” the girl asked.

“Why do you want a job so badly?” The Mayor asked.

“I need to prove myself to D’Hoffryn,” the girl said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You wish to become a demon?” The Mayor asked, interested for the first time.

“Yes, I want to become a demon…again,” the girl said.

“And you are?” The Mayor asked.

“Anya the Sunnydale High student, formerly Anyanka vengeance demon of legend,” Anya pouted.

A smile crept onto The Mayor’s face. He really was lacking in options, and she already had experience in the business. Bonus factor: she attended Sunnydale High.

“Well, when you put it that way, I’m always looking for good assistants. Mine just seem to be, well, they’re not very good. That Slayer always gets in the way,” The Mayor said with a frown.

“Buffy will not be a problem for me, sir,” Anya said, “I want vengeance on her more than anyone…ever. And I was a demon for a very, very long time.”

“First things first,” The Mayor said, “I need you to pick someone up at the airport.”

Anya stared at the man as if he’d suddenly grown a second head.

“Is there a problem?” The Mayor asked.

“The airport?” Anya said in a slightly hysterical voice, “Did you not hear me? Demon…I want to be one, not a pilot.”

“I see,” The Mayor said, “Perhaps I should just find someone else to do this little favor for me. Find someone else to give this to.”

Anya’s eyes widened to comic figure proportions when the Mayor presented a very dangerous looking knife with intricate patterns etched on it.

“Becoming a demon, with my help, won’t be a free ride. Now, a package is arriving tomorrow night from Central America. Something, and I really can’t stress this enough, something crucially important to my Ascension. Without it, well…what would Toll House cookies be without the chocolate chips? A pretty darn big disappointment, I can tell you.”

Anya took the offered knife happily. It had been far too long since she’d caused any major damage. Anything that helped her get back at the little annoying Slayer would be worth it. Even if she was being the butt monkey for a two bit demon wannabe.

* * * * * * *

“Um, Buffy, luv,” Spike said with great trepidation, “Let the man in tweed go.”

Buffy didn’t respond, but tightened her grip on Wesley’s neck.

“Buffy, really,” Giles began, “Is this really necessary?”

“He did the spell,” Buffy said through gritted teeth.

Wide eyes turned heavenwards. Everyone knew the man was a fool, but this was beyond what any of them could have ever imagined.

“Well, in that case,” Spike began in a low voice, “Make it real painful, pet.”

That comment pulled Giles out of his shocked trance. “No, we really can’t kill him.”

“Uh, I don’t know about you, but seein’ evil me and all…I’m with B and Blondie,” Faith said.

“We should at least let him explain,” Willow said in a soothing voice.

“Oh, this should be good,” Buffy said with an evil glint in her eyes.

Slowly, she loosened the grip she had on his sore neck. Never allowing her eyes to leave him, she sat down on Spike’s lap and waited for him to ‘explain’.

“You all must believe I had no idea things would get quite so out of hand,” Wesley began a bit nervously, “I was following the Council’s orders.”

“Can I eat Travers, pet?” Spike asked against Buffy’s neck.

“Maybe later, Spike,” Buffy answered with a smile, “First, I want to hear the rest of Wesley’s story.”

“My orders were simple. Since the Council didn’t succeed the first time in making you weak, I was to do it from the inside. I was told to slowly take each person from you. Starting with the strongest. Now, obviously, going after Spike would have been suicide. I started with Willow. She’s most valuable to you for her strong powers. She doesn’t realize the extent of her abilities, but she will become a very powerful Wicca,” Wesley continued.

“Maybe you missed the memo, Wes,” Buffy began in a deceptively calm voice as she stood up, “But, going after my friends, not really a life preserving thing to do.”

“This is your entire fault, Buffy,” Wesley said in a surprisingly strong voice, “There’s a reason the Slayer is meant to be alone. There is a reason she is taken from people she knows.”

“Sing me a new one, Wes,” Buffy said, “Tell me, why now? Why wait for two years before coming after me in such a way?”

“Your test period has expired. We were hoping that you’d come around on your own. Obviously, you won’t. Your time was extended when Faith arrived, in the hope that she would help convince you to see our way, however, that didn’t work out. Now, you are in the way of the next Slayer in the line. This cannot be tolerated,” he answered.

“The line isn’t with B anymore,” Faith said, “With her death and all, and me being called.”

“Yes, but the claim you all have performed has made things more complicated than we expected. Now, there has to be an order in which we remedy the problem,” Wesley said.

“How do we help Willow?” Buffy said.

“Why would I tell you?” Wesley said.

“Because. If you tell me, you’re death is quick. If you don’t, your death is slow,” Buffy said with a tone that made everyone shudder.

Wesley tried his best to look unaffected by the Slayers threat. He was trying to cling to the hope that her Slayer sensibilities would not allow her to kill a human, even him. However, the more he thought about the situation, the more that hope disappeared.

“You’re running out of time, Wes,” Buffy said with a deceptively calm smile on her face.

An ill humored smile crossed the British man’s face, “What’s the point, Buffy? You intend to kill me anyway.”

“Aw, you flatter yourself way too much,” Buffy said.

‘But, pet, I want to kill him. Really slowly, in a way that will make Angelus look like a little fluffy kitten.’

Buffy smiled at Spike and he felt a chill go up his spine at the dark promise that her smile held. He’d seen plenty of things in his century plus existence. Buffy always seemed to come up with new things for him to see. He could feel her pain and fear as if it was his own. There was no limit to what he would do to make sure that hurt disappeared. This was her battle; she’d pretty much said that. These were her mates. No one was allowed to harm them. The idiot Council of Wankers should know that by now.

Finally, Wesley looked up at the group. The fear that rolled off him was obvious to everyone in the room.

“I don’t know the details,” Wesley began, “But, Quentin Travers will. It has something to do with the spell Willow performed. I was told to change one of the ingredients.”

“That’s a start,” Buffy said. Going into Slayer mode, Buffy started to give out assignments, “Giles, I need to you to get Travers here, and I really don’t care how you do that. Oz, Xander and Cordy, get Willow to the hospital and don’t leave her alone, ever. Spike, I need you to tie our resident tweed traitor to a chair.”

“Really, is it necessary to tie me to a chair?” Wesley asked as Spike carried him to the most uncomfortable chair he could find.

“We could just kill you,” Buffy said in a distracted voice.

“Buffy,” Giles said as he emerged from the office, “Lock him up in the cage.”

Buffy nodded her head and Spike carried the chair into the cage. Once that was taken care of, Buffy and Spike left to patrol. As was usual of late, they did a sweep of City Hall. Normally there was no activity, tonight was not normal. The pair hid in the bushes and watched as Anya carried a box inside. Buffy and Spike made their way to the car Anya had left.

The driver rolled down his window after he lit a cigarette. This job was really beginning to suck It was ok to take orders from a man that was about to ascend, but to be pushed around from a two-bit ex-demon…that was just unacceptable. Sunnydale really was going to the dogs. A respectable demon to work for was too damn hard to find, and that’s if you could find a job. Most of the big ones were taken out by the Slayer and her band of merry men.

“So, what’s in the box?” Buffy asked in a chipper voice as she twirled a stake in her hand.

The driver looked out the window, ready to eat the poor fool who had interrupted his thoughts. Just as he was about to answer, he noticed the stake.

“You know, I’ve had a really, I mean really bad night. Like top ten on the Buffy’s Bad Night’s list, and let me tell you, I’ve had a lot of them,” Buffy said impatiently.

“So?” the driver asked in a disinterested voice.

“So,” Buffy said slowly, “It would be better, and less painful, for you if you just tell me what box the Mayor was just given.”

“I’m not telling you anything, Slayer,” the driver said.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Buffy said as she hauled the driver through the window and threw him to Spike who was standing a fair distance away from the limo.

“Should’ve listened to the girl, mate,” Spike said.

After several rounds of beat the vamp, the blonde duo had the information they needed, and none of it was good for them.

“The Box of Gavrock. It houses some great demonic energy or something which His Honor needs to chow down on come A-Day,” Buffy said as she set down the heavy tome.

“We can’t let that happen,” Xander said in a slightly hysterical voice.

The group had met up at the hospital. Their had been brief argument on the wisdom in leaving Wesley on his own, but after realizing that the cage had kept Oz contained on numerous occasions, the conversation had been ended rather quickly.

“I’m sick of waiting around for The Mayor to make a move. I need to be out there, doing something,” Buffy said in an almost pleading voice.

“Buffy,” Giles said in an even voice, “I’m not entirely sure there’s anything for you to be out there doing.”

“We know the Mayor has Anya working for him,” Buffy said, “If we can get to her, I’m sure we could persuade her to make with the information giving.”

“Plus, I’m thinking Mr. I-Want-To-Be-Evil would like to have his little box back,” Xander said.

“You know me, I’m all about the carnage, but what about Willow and the Council? Faith asked, “Not really wantin’ to leave loose ends.”

‘Spike,’ Buffy began, ‘I can’t do this. It’s just too much. The Council, Willow, the Mayor, Wesley – just too much.’

Spike swept Buffy into his arms just as she passed out. “Watcher, I’m takin’ m’Mate home.”

“Spike,” Giles began in an exasperated tone, “Now isn’t the best time for a break. In case it has escaped your attention, we’re trying to avoid the next apocalypse!”

“I have noticed you git,” Spike roared, “If you’d shut your gob for two secs and open those speckled eyes of yours you notice the state of your Slayer.”

Giles’ mouth flapped uselessly for a few seconds before he clamped it firmly shut. He wasn’t used to being accused of not having his Slayer’s best interests in mind, especially by a soulless vampire. But, after finally taking a moment to look at Buffy, he realized what a git he truly was. She was too pale and she was lying in Spike’s arms limp, almost dead like.

“I’ll ring you if we come up with anything of interest,” Giles said in a deflated tone.

Spike nodded his head curtly and strode out the door; Buffy carefully nestled in his arms. It amazed him more and more each day that this scrap of a girl had been able to survive this long. Her friends, while well-meaning, really didn’t understand what they were doing to her. All of the subconscious pressures and expectations they imposed on her were really killing her – slowly, painfully. Buffy, as was well known, wasn’t one to die without one hell of a fight. That’s exactly what she did, day in, day out: fight. One day, that fight would leave her. On that day, Spike vowed to be there to fight for her.

* * * * * * * *

“This simply will not be tolerated. I need that box,” The Mayor told Anya.

“I know that. Buffy’s the one who took it from me,” Anya pouted.

The Mayor stood up and moved in front of Anya. “I do not care whose fault it is. I want you to fix it. NOW!”

“I’m only a mortal!” Anya protested, “If you can upgrade me to by rightful demon status then I can be of much more use to you!”

“Must I remind you, Anya, that you offered your services to me? Once you have completed your task, you’ll get your upgrade,” The Mayor said in a deceptively calm voice.

“No,” Anya said in a defeated tone, “You don’t have to remind me. I’ll get the box back for you.”

“Good girl,” The Mayor said with a smile, “Cookie?”

“Oh, cookies. I like cookies,” Anya said as she snatched one up.

Anya paced the block Buffy’s house was on for what seemed like an eternity. She needed to get her hands on that box, but she wasn’t a complete mortal fool. She knew going up against the Slayers and the rest of their little club wasn’t going to work out well for her. What she needed was an edge, something to bargain with. Something they didn’t need, but they wanted…wanted enough to give her the box. This was a dangerous thing. If they knew what was in the box, she’d never get it back from them. However, if she didn’t get the box, then she wouldn’t become her former, more powerful self.

Suddenly, an idea struck her. Quite literally. The little idea ran right into her.

“I’m supposed to take you with me. Buffy and Spike needed some alone time. They need to give each other many orgasms,” Anya said.

“You know what you just said was like way icky, and mental images I don’t need,” the girl told her.

Anya stared at the girl blankly. She’d never understand these mortals. She spoke clearly enough. Oh well.

“Well, let’s go,” Anya said in a chipper voice.

“I’m not so sure about this. Buffy didn’t tell me anything about this, and I’m sure she would have told me if someone I’ve never met was supposed to pick me up and take me somewhere. Geeze lady, how dumb do you think I am?” the girl asked.

“Not dumb enough,” Anya said.

Before the girl could call for help, Anya hit her over the back of the head, causing the girl to fall limply into her arms.

Anya walked boldly into the Mayor’s office, her bundle held haphazardly in her arms.

“I think I’ve found a way to get your box back. Then, I become a demon once again,” Anya announced.

The Mayor turned around, “Well, now, this is what I like to see. Such ingenuity, such initiative. I knew you had it in you all along.”

Slowly, the girl began to come back to the world of the conscious. She took one look around the room and wished she were unconscious once more. “My sister’s so going to kick your ass!”