Chapter 3


Halfrek rubbed her hands together.  She’d been delighted when D’Hoffryn had told her the news of Anyanka’s return to the fold as her assistant.


Her assistant.


What a step down for the once favored Anyanka.  Halfrek decided she needed to go give Anyanka her first assignment.  With a snap of her fingers, she popped away to Sunnydale.


Halfrek found herself with a face full of naked demon boobs.  She scrunched her nose in disgust. 


“Oh, lovely, a demonic strip club,” Halfrek muttered under her breath.  “Sunnydale is just so classy.  No wonder Anyanka fits right in.”  She turned to search the crowd for Anyanka. 


Halfrek immediately saw Anyanka sitting at a table with five mostly tipsy human women.  She approached the table with a grin.  “Anyanka, my old friend.  It is so good to see you.  Let me tell you about your first assignment as my newest assistant.”


Anyanka grinned in return.  “Halfrek, my old friend.  It is good to see you.  Let me tell you about my new gig.”  She picked up the flower pendent from around her neck.  She twirled the chain in her fingers.  “Ceridwyn is such a nicer boss than Hoffy.”


“What?!” Halfrek shrieked, causing the other bar patrons to stare at her.  She ignored them.  “This is the thanks Hoffy gets after graciously taking you back even after you messed up so bad?”


“Are there any problems over here?” A short, round, slightly balding man approached the table.


Anya twisted around to smile at him.  “Everything is fine, Zoof.  We’ll take another round of Pale Moonrises for the table.”  She turned to Halfrek.  “Do you want one, too?  We’re trash talking men here.  Always a good time.”


“I suppose,” Halfrek said in a put-upon tone.  Maybe she could get some inside info on Ceridwyn.  After all, the ex-vengeance demon was supposed to be dead, but clearly, she wasn’t after all.  Halfrek pulled a chair over from a nearby table.  “Introduce me to your companions, Anyanka.”


“Awesome.  Seven Pale Moonrises, Zoof.  On my tab.”


“Certainly, Anya.”  Zoof hurried off to give the drink orders to their waitress Frankie.


Halfrek plopped down in a chair while Anya introduced her human friends.  She felt her dreams of fun and mayhem evaporate into the ether.  Ceridwyn had never liked her and the feeling was mutual




Buffy peered at Anya.  “Okay, what’s going on?”  She gestured towards Halfrek.  “Who is she?”


“This is Halfrek.  She’s a vengeance demon,” Anya answered before she went ahead and introduced Buffy and her friends.


“Justice Demon,” Halfrek muttered.


Frankie arrived with their drinks.  “Zoof says this round is on him.”  She placed the glasses on the table.


“You’ve been granting wishes all night, haven’t you?” Faith asked.


Willow scoffed.  “No, she hasn’t.  Anya’s not a vengeance demon anymore.


“No, she’s a fairy godmother,” Halfrek mumbled into her drink.


“What’s a fairy godmother?” Cordelia inquired.  “I’ve never heard of one of those before.”


Anya looked like she was about to speak, but Halfrek beat her to it.


“Oh, fairy godmothers do grant wishes, but mostly they find people’s one true love, or loves, if that’s the case.”


The human women turned to Anya with wide-eyed astonishment.  They stared at her for a few moments before Cordelia started to giggle hysterically.  It took a few minutes for her to calm down enough to speak.


“Oh,” Cordelia snorted with continued laughter.  “Angel in a purple leotard, pink tutu, sparkly green tights, and blue fairy wings.”


“Don’t forget the mask that matches the tights,” Tara piped up.”


Cordelia nodded.  “Yes, and I sure hope that Doyle got a picture.”  She pulled out her cell phone, and she dialed a number.  When it was clear someone had answered on the other side, she said, “Tell me you got a picture?”


While Cordelia continued to talk to Doyle, Buffy asked Anya a question.  “Is Angel my true love?  My soulmate?”


Anya slowly shook her head.  “No, no, he is not.  He murdered his true love in 1898, and again just a couple of years ago.  She was a gypsy both times.”


Willow reared back with a perplexed look on her face.  “Is that why they cursed him in the first place with a soul.”


“Yes, most vampires are usually out of sync with their mates.  Unfortunately, they also usually end up killing their mates because of their natures.”


“Oh, I sure wish if any of our true loves are vampires that they are understanding of the whole thing,” Tara said in a soft voice.  “I mean, they’re vampires, so yeah?”


“Well, I sure wish if any of us have vampire true loves we’re understanding,” Faith replied.  She winked at Buffy.  “Some of us are their natural enemies, after all.”


Anya snapped her fingers.  “Wishes granted.




As the men recovered from their visions of the future, Doyle’s phone rang, the sound echoing off the quiet alley’s walls.


“Hello?  Oh, hey, Cordy.”  Doyle paused to listen.  “Why, yes, I did get a picture of Angel in his ‘superhero’ costume.  It’s right here.”  He slid the picture out of his pocket.


Spike snatched the picture away from Doyle, and he looked at it under the streetlight.  “Oh, mate, this is the best blackmail material ever against the old poof.  The mask really sets off his gigantic forehead and the hair gel.”


“You use gel in your hair too, mate,” Giles muttered.


Spike considered that fact for a moment.  “True, but how many Big Bads have you seen with a mop of curls?  Well, I haven’t either.”


Lawson took the picture from Spike.  A smirk emerged when he looked at it.


Doyle hung up his phone.  “Give that here.  I need to give it to Cordelia and her friends.  They want physical evidence.”


Lawson let Doyle take the picture back.


“Can we talk about the visions you showed us?” Giles asked.


Spike turned to Ceridwyn.  “Yeah, luv, why the bloody hell am I not goin’ mental over all the soddin’ nonsense with the Slayer?”


Lawson nodded in agreement.  He wasn’t too pleased about dusting at the hands of Angelus.


“Two loves for me?” Oz asked.


“Anya’s way too young for me,” Giles commented.


“I’m pretty sure I already love Cordelia, but do I have to die?” Doyle questioned.  “That’s pretty damned disappointing.”


Ceridwyn nodded in understanding.  “All very good questions.  Two of the lovely ladies wished that more understanding would be had between the vampires and their true loves.  That’s why you’re not ‘going mental’ about the Slayer.”  She nodded again at Spike.  “You, Sam, and Mr. Giles.  At least it’s not his first time having his Slayer involved with a vampire.”


“What?” Giles looked at Spike in horror.  “Not again!”


Spike shrugged.  “Sorry, Watcher, wasn’t my idea.  Doubt it was Lawson’s either.  Slayers and vamps, shaggin’ like bunnies,” he scoffed.


“There’s worse things,” Lawson said with a careless tilt of his head.  “Like a life without purpose.


Ceridwyn turned to Oz next.  “Willow is a lover of both the male and the female form.  With control of your wolf, you won’t need to leave Sunnydale.  You’ll form an excellent triad with the Wicca and the witch.”


“Oh good.”  Oz gave a laid-back nod of his head.


“And you!”  Ceridwyn pointed at Giles.  “Anyanka is over 1100 years old.  If anyone is robbing the cradle, it’s her.  Now let’s go meet up with your lady loves.”


With a snap of Ceridwyn’s fingers, they all disappeared from the alley behind the Bronze.




“What did you do?” Parker demanded while he poked Guy Donovan in the shoulder.


“I don’t know what you mean?” Guy replied.  He looked up from the frat house’s pool table where he was practicing shots while he waited for his girlfriend.


Just then, his girlfriend, Dolly Nicolas strolled into the room.  “Hey sweetie, are you ready to go?” she asked.


“Oh yeah, you hottie, I’m ready to give you a go.  Just bend over and let me hammer into that sweet hot tunnel of love.”


Parker looked at his crotch in horror.


Dolly looked at Parker’s crotch in disgust.


Guy looked at Parker’s crotch, and burst out laughing.




Xander stood at his closet door, contemplating his life choices.  Since getting back from his road trip, he’d felt a disconnect with his friends.  They had all moved onto college, even Faith.  While, until around thirty minutes before at the Bronze, he had been still kicking around looking for work.


Maybe the move out of town would be the perfect life shake up he needed.  Xander still had a little bit of money left over from his trip; probably just enough to rent a room until he got his first paycheck.


With that in mind, Xander started to pack his clothing and other possessions.


Now to get out of the house without his crazy, drunk family noticing.




Never before had Angel wished more that vampires cast reflections.  He desperately needed to see how ridiculous he looked.


“Nobody will take me seriously now,” Angel growled.


Opening the desk drawers, Angel searched for a solution to his costume issue.  In the third drawer, he found a pair of Cordelia’s scissors.  He grabbed them up.


Angel stood up with the scissors in hand.  He cut the tutu off.  As it fluttered to the ground, he grasped the leotard at the hip.  He did his best to cut up towards his armpit.  However, it was an awkward position for him.  When he stopped to adjust his grip on the leotard, the tutu disappeared from the floor.


Angel looked around in confusion.  In the next instant, the tutu appeared back in place on his body, magically repaired.  He noticed the cut on the leotard had also repaired itself.


“What the hell?”


Angel started over.  First, the tutu, and then the leotard.


Both items repaired themselves.


Angel did it again.


And again.


And again.


And again.


And one more time before he got frustrated enough to throw the scissors across the room with all of his vampiric strength.  They imbedded into the wall with enough force to make the wall shudder.

Chapter End Notes:

Guy Donovan isn't really an original character even though his girlfriend is one.  In Fear, Itself, in the transcripts there is a frat boy that is just called 'guy'.  So, I named him Guy.  They are the same person.

maryperk is the author of 115 other stories.
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