Disclaimer: Not my vampires, alas. Joss Whedon gets all the money and whatnot. I just get to play a little.
Thank you kind reviewers for inspiring me to continue!
 
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Chapter 8: Divergence
 
Anya was busily ringing up a customer when Joyce came to pick up Dawn. “Thank you for shopping the Magic Box! Come back soon – we’re getting new things in every day!” She gleefully eyed the money in the till and had to restrain herself from taking it all out and cuddling it. Noticing Joyce, she quickly closed the cash drawer and said, “Hi! Are you here to shop, or just get Dawn? We’ve got some great deals today!”
 
Joyce smiled. “Sorry, just here to get Dawn today.” She looked over at the research table where Willow was deep in a book and Dawn was deep asleep, with her head on a book. Joyce frowned a bit. “Dawn, are you going to sleep for the rest of the year?”
 
“Huh?” Dawn mumbled, opening her eyes and sitting up. She realized she had drooled a bit on her history book. “Oh, hi mom,” she muttered, trying to wipe away the drool without anyone noticing.
 
“Gather your things up. I’m just going to go in and talk to Giles for a moment,” Joyce said, her frown deepening. Dawn sluggishly started to obey her mother while Joyce went into Giles’ office.
 
“Joyce,” said Giles, automatically standing up to welcome her. “What brings you here? How are you feeling?”
 
“Feeling a bit better every day, Giles. Thanks for asking.” She looked back into the other room at Dawn, who was chatting a bit with Willow as she gathered her things. “Giles, I’m terribly worried about the girls.”
 
“What about?” asked Giles. Perhaps he wasn’t crazy in thinking that the young people were acting oddly today.
 
“Dawn has done nothing but sleep for the past two days! She doesn’t seem sick – no fever, and her appetite is fine. But, well you just saw her! She keeps dozing off everywhere, won’t concentrate on anything. She’s been incredibly lazy as well, won’t do the simplest chores or anything. And Buffy has been in the foulest mood I’ve ever seen her in.”
 
“I’ve noticed that too,” Giles put in. “She practically destroyed the training room earlier. It’s like her Slayer half is on overdrive. Some of the others have been acting odd as well. Anya and Xander have been fighting, Tara went on an eating binge that led to food poisoning…”
 
“Is she alright?” Joyce asked, concerned.
 
“She will be. But Willow’s been experimenting on Tara with magic, and I’m not sure if that has affected anything or not.” Giles responded.
 
“What is with everyone?” Joyce asked.
 
“I haven’t figured it out yet, I’m afraid,” Giles admitted. “But I plan to keep researching. Perhaps some aftereffect from one of Willow’s spells, or someone with a grudge going after the Slayer.”
 
“Well, please let me know if there is anything I can do. I’m so worried…”
 
Joyce and Giles jumped as the basement door slammed open. They rushed out to see Buffy entering, soaked to the skin and looking completely bedraggled. Joyce came up to her and said, “Buffy? What happened? Are you hurt?”
 
How do I spin this one? “Spike and I we… tussled with a demon in the tunnels. Some black, shiny thing, hard to see. We defeated it, but Spike had to go home for some dry clothes as well.” Ok, there was a tussle with a demon dressed in a black, shiny coat. Not a total lie. Buffy hoped they didn’t ask too many more questions.
 
“Was the demon somehow related to Glory, do you think?” Giles inquired. He was desperate for any sort of lead on the hell god.
 
“I just told you it was hard to see,” snapped Buffy. “I told you what I know. Can I please go get out of the wet clothes now?” She could feel her blood pressure rising again.
 
“We were just getting ready to leave,” said Joyce quietly. “Come on, Dawn.”
 
Dawn yawned, waved a lazy goodbye to Anya and Willow, and shuffled off to the car. Buffy stomped off behind her, squelching and dripping. Joyce caught Giles’ glance, who nodded and said, “I’ll check into it and let you know, Joyce.”
 
“Thank you, Giles,” said Joyce warmly, as she left the shop to follow the girls.
 
Willow looked at Giles with a questioning glance. “What was that all about?” she inquired.
 
“I am wondering if there is some sort of magic at work. Buffy’s temper seems completely out of control, and Dawn seems unusually sluggish. Joyce is concerned about them.” And I’ve got my doubts about the rest of you, Giles added silently.
 
“If it is magic, it was probably a spell someone cast on their house or something, since only they are affected,” Willow reasoned. “I could go over there later and do a spell to detect any magical signatures.”
 
“I am not sure that would be wise, Willow,” Giles said as gently as he could. He was a little dismayed that Willow saw her current behavior as normal. “If such a spell isn’t done correctly, it could intensify the effects of any spells in the area.”
 
“Giles, what is your problem today?” Willow exploded. “You’ve been acting like I’m completely incompetent all day! Jeez, I fixed the training room, I helped Tara, what more do I have to do to show you that I know what I’m doing?”
 
“Willow!” Giles snapped. He took off his glasses and tried to get himself under control. “You have not been properly trained. It is very easy to think you have full control of the magic but without proper training that control is tenuous at best.” He pointed his glasses at her as he emphasized, “You must stop using magic casually until you have completely mastered it.”
 
Willow’s expression darkened. “I’ve mastered more power than you can even think of,” she retorted. “Besides, you’re not my watcher. So just point those glasses somewhere else!” With that she gestured at Giles and muttered a quick incantation.
 
She had meant to make the glasses disappear from his hand and reappear on his nose. She imagined that would shut him up. Instead, Giles cried out, startled, as he found himself holding a white mouse by the tail instead of his glasses. “Bloody hell!” he yelled, dropping the mouse. Anya shrieked, and the mouse ran frantically along the floor, disappearing under the door to basement.
 
“Oops,” said Willow quietly. That was a really cool transformation. Too bad it wasn’t exactly what I intended.
 
“This is exactly what I am talking about!” Giles roared.
 
“Giles I’m so so sorry!” Willow babbled. “I just meant to put them back on your nose I swear! I don’t know how it could have gone wrong, I knew the spell, I just…”
 
“Enough!” Giles barked. “From now on you will do no spells in my presence without my express permission or so help me you are banned from this store. Do you understand?”
 
“Yes, Giles,” Willow mumbled. Not like you could stop me anyhow, she thought defiantly.
 
“Good. Now, you are going to drive me to my apartment to get my spare glasses, since my other pair just left the building!” he said angrily. “Anya, mind the store, would you? And remember what we discussed earlier.” He fixed her with a pointed stare until she rolled her eyes and said, “Yes, yes, I know. Don’t sell any books of curses, blah, blah.” Giles sighed, started to say something, then gave up. “Let’s go. I can’t do a bloody thing until I can see clearly,” he said to Willow.
 
Willow followed Giles meekly out of the store. As soon as the door shut behind them, Anya rubbed her hands with glee. Ok, customers, come to Anya. Her prayers were rewarded a few minutes later when a pair of geeky looking college age guys entered the store. “Hi! Welcome to the Magic Box! Anything in particular you were looking for?”
 
The two looked around furtively, to see if anyone else was in the store. The dark haired one came up to the counter and said in a low voice, “We really need a Hand of Glory. Do you sell those?”
 
“I do have one, but those are pretty dangerous. Do you know what you’re doing with them?”
 
“I just want one because I think they look cool,” he replied. His blond friend started to say something but was silenced by an elbow and a muttered, “Just stay out of this Andrew.”
 
Anya frowned. Not sure if I trust these guys. Then she said, “I don’t know. These are very expensive. We’re asking $200, and you’ll have to leave your name and address so that if there are any problems we can trace them back to you.”
 
The dark haired kid pondered for a minute. “Ok, where do I sign?” Anya handed him an index card and watched as he wrote ‘Jonathan Levinson’ and a campus address. The blond was practically skipping with excitement as Anya wrapped up the purchase. “Remember, if I hear about anyone being affected by a spell you guys cast, I am giving your name to the police, got it?”
 
“Yeah, we got it,” Jonathan said, a little nervously. Then they both scampered out, giggling like a couple of kids in a candy store.
 
Two hundred dollars! Yes! Anya thought. She gleefully counted the money in the drawer again – they were doing fantastic today! She heard the bell ring and quickly put the money back as Giles returned. “Hi Giles, where’s Willow?”
 
“I dropped her off so she could check on Tara at the health center. Anything to report?”
 
“No, nothing exciting,” Anya lied. She figured what Giles didn’t know about the Hand of Glory wouldn’t hurt him. Hands of Glory could be used to freeze enemies in their tracks, which could be bad in the wrong hands. But it took a pretty skilled practitioner to actually use them, so those two bumblers would probably be safe. She hoped.
 
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Tara had spent most of the morning either throwing up or in the bathroom. She didn’t have the heart to tell Willow that the spell had indeed made things worse. By noon her stomach had finally settled down, and she had dozed off for a while. When she woke, however, she found that the hunger had returned with a vengeance. She buzzed for the nurse and said, “Can I get something to eat? Now that I’m all empty, I’m really hungry all of a sudden.”
 
The nurse frowned. “We’ll try you on some chicken broth and see if you can keep that down. But nothing else for right now.” The nurse left the room and returned in ten minutes with a mug of steaming chicken broth. “Take it easy, and let me know if you feel nauseous again. You really did a number on your system with those leftovers young lady.”
 
“Thank you,” Tara said. She tentatively sipped the broth. Mmm. That is pretty tasty. She finished it in a few minutes and then waited. Her stomach rumbled a bit, but then settled. I should be fine. Maybe I can get something else.
 
When the nurse returned, Tara said, “Can I get some more? That was really good.”
 
“Let’s give it a half hour or so, make sure it stays down, ok?” the nurse advised. Tara reluctantly agreed, but found the hunger growing. After about 10 minutes she got up. Her legs were a little shaky, but they had removed the IV so she could at least move around freely. She went to the door and looked out. There was no one in the hall. She slowly walked down toward the nurse’s station, keeping an eye out for anyone who might question her. Fortunately, everyone seemed busy. There was a small break room a few doors down from hers. Seeing that it was empty, she went in and shut the door. She looked in the small fridge and found a turkey sandwich that was clearly someone’s lunch. She grabbed it and hiding it in the folds of her hospital gown snuck back down to her room. She went into the bathroom and closed the door, tearing open the sandwich and wolfing it down. Oh man, I needed that. So yummy…
 
She hid the wrappings in the bottom of the trash can and went back to her bed. The nurse came in shortly afterward and said, “How are you feeling?”
 
Tara was about to say ‘Just fine’ when her stomach started rumbling again. The nurse took one look at her and grabbed for a basin, making it just in time before Tara threw up again. The nurse shook her head. “I think we should talk to the doctor about putting that IV back in. You don’t seem ready for food just yet, I’m afraid.” She passed Tara a glass of water and left to go consult the doctor.
 
Tara drank the water and groaned. Why, oh why did I do that? Am I insane? She lay back and closed her eyes as her stomach made more unpleasant noises. Oh shut up, you, she thought. You’re the one who got me into this mess. She lay there, fighting a battle against nausea, until she dozed off once more.
 
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Poor old thing. Gonna need to treat you to a trip to the cleaners soon. Spike was using a towel to remove various forms of muck from the back of his beloved duster. As he worked on his coat, he winced occasionally at the pain in the bridge of his nose. Why the fuck does she always go for the nose? I’d welcome a kick in the balls just for a change of pace. Scratch that, knowing her she’d probably kick them up into my lungs. After the Slayer had run off, he realized the futility of following her until she calmed down. He had returned to his crypt, showered and changed into some dry clothes, and commenced babying his duster. After he cleaned it, he carefully laid it over a chair to dry for a while, thinking about its previous owner. Nikki Wood. She was hot. That Chinese girl was okay, but Nikki, she was a live wire.
 
Again? For the love of Christ! Thinking about Nikki had caused his erection to return once more. He never thought he would ever say this, but he was getting a bit tired of being aroused constantly. It was exhausting. Yet even after coming twice in quick succession with the Slayer he was still raring to go again. He threw himself on the bed, trying to rest for a while, but it was no use. He found himself jacking off yet again, thinking about Nikki, about Buffy, imagining having both of them at once. Slayer sandwich. Too bad you only get one at a time. Of course that Faith chick is still out there somewhere… The fantasy did its work and he came, fortunately missing his last remaining clean pair of jeans. He panted as he lay there. This is very, very odd. Giles is right. There is something weird happening around here. He wondered if they would figure it out before he wanked himself into a large pile of dust.
 
TBC