Late April 2000

Writer: Sagremor

Jonathan	Anya	Willow	Xander

Jonathan stepped out of the shower at 6:00 AM. The communal bathroom was deserted this early in the morning, which is why Jonathan chose this time for his morning ablutions – in part due to his modesty and in part to avoid contact with his fellow students – especially those who remembered him from Sunnydale High. He stepped up to the row of mirrors and prepared to shave. He stopped and turned to examine the new scar, a set of almost concentric circles that Anya had carved into his back three nights ago using an very sharp, very evil looking knife. He examined his injured left hand where she had subsequently driven that same knife to test his "invulnerability." He shook his head, then began to shave. How had he allowed her to convince him that magic was real? And if it wasn’t, where had those trading cards come from? Lost in thought, he didn’t pay close enough attention to what he was doing and moved the razor parallel to the blade, slicing into his cheek.

Wincing in pain, he sluiced water across his face and looked in the mirror to assess the damage. There was none. The injury had closed up as soon as it had been made.

Back in his room, Jonathan took out his sewing kit. He selected a needle, then sterilized it with iodine from his first aid kit. Holding the needle steady with his right hand, he brought his left thumb down quickly, closing his eyes at the last moment. He jerked his hand back immediately – the pain ended the instant the needle left his flesh. A tiny drop of blood had appeared on his thumb, but when he brushed it away, there was no trace of an injury.

"It worked!" he exclaimed excitedly to himself. His exhilaration faded almost immediately as he remembered the nemesis – his magically created opposite was out there, somewhere, seeking his destruction.

And he realized he had no idea how to reach Anya – he didn’t know where she lived and didn’t even have the slightest idea about what her last name was.

Episode 2:
"Vulnerabilities"

Jonathan opened his SHS yearbook and searched vainly for a photo of Anya – there was no mention of her, she had transferred to their school too late in the year. What did he remember about her? Xander. Xander Harris – they had been an item during their senior year in High School and had even gone to the prom together. Maybe Xander knew where he could find Anya – if he was still in Sunnydale. Jonathan grabbed his phone.

"That was strange," Xander said to Anya as he rejoined her in his basement. "My mom said Jonathan called me this morning and left his address. I don’t know why she waited until now to tell me since I’ve been home since 7:00."

"Jonathan?" Anya responded with surprise.

"Yeah, we were in High School together – I didn’t really know him. I definitely don’t know why he’d call me," Xander continued. "He was a short little guy – he tried to kill himself just before graduation. Buffy stopped him. He always kind of reminded me of a little of a giant smurf."

"What’s a smurf?"

"Tiny blue guys," Xander explained. "They said ‘smurf’ a lot, hence the name. I used to think that they were really swearing when they said it and that was just the way the networks cut out the bad words. Papa Smurf would ask something like ‘What’d you little smurfs do today?’ and they’d say ‘We went to the smurfing forest to have a smurfing picnic but we ran into that smurfing cat so had to get the smurf out of there.’ Every other word was bleeped out – it was like watching a rap video. I wonder what he wants?"

"What I wonder is why you’re talking about smurfs when we could be having sex," Anya said as she threw herself into Xander’s arms, nearly causing him to lose his balance.

Jonathan returned to his room after his morning shower. He had been unable to find Anya the previous day so had remained locked in his room for most of the day, terrified that a demon was stalking the campus in search of him. He had skipped his classes and left only when he absolutely had to. Aside from ordering pizza and making a few frantic phone calls to Xander, his day had consisted entirely of nervous pacing.

Anya was waiting outside his room. He breathed a sigh of relief as he approached her. She looked irritated – but she always did. "Anya…" he began.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I-I have something to show you," he said, fumbling briefly with his keys before opening the door and letting her in. "The spell worked," he told her. She watched impatiently as he sterilized his needle. "Watch," he said, then plunged the needle into the fleshy part of his left hand.

He yelped and jerked the needle back. "I don’t understand," he moaned as he reached for his first aid kit. "I was invulnerable yesterday."

"Did you do anything that might have broken the spell?" Anya asked as she casually picked up a straight pin from Jonathan’s sewing kit.

"Like what?" he responded. "I don’t even know how… ouch!" he exclaimed when Anya plunged the pin into his arm. There was no trace of an injury when she withdrew it.

"Maybe it’s cyclical," she suggested. She plunged the pin into his arm three more times in quick succession, each injury healing instantly.

"Stop that!" he yelled. "It hurts!"

"That’s strange," she said pensively. "The needle wasn’t made out of silver, was it? Or blessed by a priest?"

"Who would bless a needle?"

"Maybe your left hand is your ‘Achilles heel’…" She grabbed Jonathan’s wounded hand and stabbed it with the pin. Jonathan jerked his hand away angrily and pulled the pin out. There was no sign of harm.

"You’re insane," he said furiously.

"If I had some of the old commentaries, I might be able to figure this out," Anya said absently. "But the only Latin texts I know about are guarded by Giles. I doubt he’d let me borrow them."

"The university library has a large collection of Latin Manuscripts," Jonathan offered.

"Really?"

"Latin studies is one of the campus’ big draws. We have the best collection in the state, maybe even the country. According to my Latin professor, anyway."

"Do you have something to write on?" Anya asked.

"Sure," he replied. He fumbled though his desk drawer and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen and handed them to Anya.

Anya accepted both and began writing

"I want to be a doctor," Jonathan said conversationally. "I studying Latin because it should help me with my Bio classes, with scientific names and things like that. I’m having trouble with it. It was way easier first semester. How much do you know?"

"I’m fluent. It’s my first language."

"Do all demons speak Latin?"

"Not all demons even have mouths." She handed the list she had composed to Jonathan. "See if you can find these," she said. "I’ll be back tonight."

There was something distinctly menacing about the Latin Studies wing of the library. The lights were just a bit too dim, the silence a bit too complete and the atmosphere far too oppressive. Surprisingly, Jonathan had found that all six titles Anya wanted were part of the university’s collection, although two of them were part of a special collection that could only be accessed by professors and their favored grad students. He walked nervously through the stacks, so intent on his search for the correct call numbers that he bumped into a fellow researcher. Willow Rosenburg.

"Jonathan!" Willow exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I’m attending the university," he said evasively.

"I know that," she replied. "I don’t mean what are you doing here, as in the grand meaning of life or anything, I mean specifically here, in this section of the library? I’m usually all by myself."

"I’m taking Latin and was looking for some beginning books to help me practice. I guess I got lost and wandered into the expert section."

"It seemed like you were looking for something specific, what with that list in your hand and all…" She suddenly grabbed Anya’s wish list of occult books from his hand before he had a chance to object.

Jonathan looked momentarily stricken, then said defiantly to Willow, "I don’t have to answer your questions o-or put up with your abuse. This isn’t High School. You may have been Principal Snyder’s favorite little Gestapo girl back then, but he’s not around to protect you anymore."

Willow was shocked.

She stood there, mouth slightly agape, unable to react.

Jonathan snatched the list back from her and ran.

Anya was not pleased.

"Let me make sure I understand you," she said angrily, "All of the books I wanted were there, you’ve had the entire day to get them, and you didn’t get a single book."

"It’s only eleven – the library’s open ‘til one. We still have time," Jonathan said plaintively. "I had to leave – I ran into Willow…"

"Willow," Anya became very focused. "What did you say to her? Did she know why you were there?"

"No, nothing, I just left," he responded defensively.

"Good," Anya said thoughtfully. "I hope she didn’t say anything to Buffy."

"Why are you worried about Buffy?"

"She’s the Slayer, sworn to exterminate all vampires, demons and other supernatural creatures. Her boyfriend’s a secret government agent also sworn to hunt down and kill anything paranormal, which includes you. And her little friend Willow is a witch – but not a very good one. I’ll explain it to you on the way to the library."

Jonathan had forgotten his student ID, so he was unable to check out the books Anya wanted. She made it clear to him that she was inconvenienced, then settled down to read as much as of the books as she could before closing time. Jonathan found it impossible to distract her once she had begun, although it took several questions before he gave up. Finally, at one, they were asked to leave by the library staff.

They left the library, Jonathan trailing Anya closely. "Did you find out about the spell?" he asked anxiously, "Or the nemesis? We haven’t seen it yet. Maybe it’s invisible."

"The nemesis isn’t necessarily a creature," she replied, "It can be an object or condition…"

She was interrupted when a disheveled young man stepped up behind them. "Give me your money," he said menacingly. They turned to face him. He waved his knife at them and continued, "and no one gets hurt."

"We’re not giving you anything," Anya retorted disdainfully. Jonathan looked at her in horror and started to back away.

"You better shut your girlfriend up, little man, or she’s gonna get you cut," he said to Jonathan. "Give me your money," he repeated, "now."

"Don’t let him talk to you like that," Anya told Jonathan and pushed him lightly forward. He stumbled, and ended up lunging toward the mugger, who reflexively stabbed him, burying his knife in Jonathan’s stomach. Jonathan staggered and dropped to his knees while his attacker stepped back, swearing profusely.

Time seemed to slow down for Jonathan. The pain was intense, but over quickly. He lifted up his shirt – no trace of a gaping abdominal wound that should have been there. He stood back up. The mugger slashed him with the knife again – hitting his arms as Jonathan instinctively tried to shield his face. Again, no wound. The mugger ran.

Jonathan spun back to face Anya – she expected whiny recriminations, but he was elated, barely able to contain himself. "It worked!" he exclaimed. "I’m invulnerable! I’m really invulnerable!"

"If you’re finished with your little victory dance, I suggest we find your attacker and get the knife from him," she told him.

"What? Why?"

"Weapons anointed with your blood can harm you," she said seriously. "That is your nemesis." Jonathan’s face fell, "It looks like it takes a little while – maybe a day – before the weapon becomes dangerous, so it shouldn’t affect your ability to fight," she continued. "And explains why the needle you used yesterday injured you today."

They took off in pursuit.

"We lost him," Jonathan gasped. "What are we going to do?"

"Don’t panic just yet," she panted as she sought to catch her breath. "I know a spell…" She retraced her steps to the point where they had last seen their assailant and chanted a short spell. As she finished, three sets of glowing, pale-green footsteps appeared on the street, tracing the path that Jonathan, Anya and their quarry had taken. "We need to hurry," she said to Jonathan.

"Why can’t we just track him at our leisure?"

Anya pointed back the way they had come, toward the university. In the distance, the footsteps faded one by one. "If he gets more than about a three-minute head start," she said, "we’ll lose him for good."

They tracked him through darken alleys to the bad side of town. The footsteps headed into a dilapidated building and were getting brighter as they got closer. Anya entered first and Jonathan, hesitantly, followed. The building’s windows had long since been destroyed and there were occasional beams of silvery moonlight casting deep shadows in the ruined interior. The footsteps led to some rickety stairs. With Anya’s prodding, Jonathan began to gingerly climb them up to the mostly demolished second level. As he approached the second level, he saw his attacked and stopped, unsure of how to proceed and suddenly conscious of the time that had passed since his stabbing – half an hour, maybe more. He wondered if he would still be impervious to the knife’s blade.

The young man broke the silence, causing Jonathan to jump. "Who are you guys?" he asked, a note of hysteria in his voice. There was silence as Jonathan sought to regain his composure and formulate an answer. "What do you want?" the mugger continued waving the knife in front of him.

"The knife," Anya said confidently as she joined Jonathan. "Put it down and you can walk out of here."

"How do I know you’re telling the truth?"

"You’ll have to trust us," Jonathan answered. The mugger dropped the knife and rushed past Jonathan and Anya.

Jonathan continued cautiously up the stairs and reached for the knife. As he did, the floor gave way beneath him and sent him crashing to the first floor.

Anya rushed back down the stairs and arrived in time to see Jonathan untangling himself from the debris. "Are you okay?"

"I’m invulnerable, remember," he responded. "I landed on a nail, but it didn’t hurt me. I got the knife."

"Make sure you get the nail, too. It could be used against you."

"A nail?"

"Demons love irony and poetic justice," Anya explained. "More than death and suffering, in some cases. Read the myths and fairy tales sometime. If you’re comfortable knowing that a demon might sneak up on you and drive a rusty nail through your skull simply because it amuses him to see you killed by an object you considered harmless…"

"I get the picture," he responded. "Anything that hurts me has to be kept under lock and key."

Jonathan was unable to remove the nail from the two by four in which it was embedded, so he brought the entire board back to his dorm. He laid it on the floor next to all the objects that had drawn his blood over the past two days – his disposable razor, the needle and pin, and the knife.

‘What happens if we destroy them?" He asked Anya.

She wasn’t paying attention. "Look at this," she said, picking up the razor and examining it carefully. "It’s the symbol, the one we cut into your back." Jonathan peered at the razor and saw the emblem engraved on the handle.

"What’s that mean?" he asked.

"When the weapon becomes capable of harming you, the symbol appears," she said, "probably."

Jonathan took the razor from her and asked, "What happens if I destroy it?"

"Don’t know, maybe nothing."

Jonathan snapped the handle. Instantly, a bright red line appeared on his cheek where he had previously cut himself shaving. He touched his cheek gingerly and brought back his hand, stained with blood.

"Better take good care of these things," Anya said unsympathetically as Jonathan tried to staunch the bleeding with a piece of gauze from his first aid kit.

Jonathan put the items under his bed. "I’m not supposed to have weapons in my room," he said nervously.

"I can keep them for you," Anya offered.

"No!" he said a little too quickly. The idea of the self-professed ex-demon having items in her possession that could kill him made him uneasy. "Does the spell protect me from disease?" he asked, anxious to change the subject.

"No, immunity to disease is a separate spell." She didn’t seem offended by his suggestion.

"Then I should probably get a tetanus shot," he continued. "Also, I’ve been thinking that I need something else. An ability to fight back – if that guy who stabbed me had wanted to, he could have kept stabbing me all night and I couldn’t have done anything about it."

"Or dismembered you," Anya agreed. "You’ll need regeneration if you want to be able to regrow or rebond severed body parts."

"Is there a spell that will make me skilled in hand to hand combat?" he asked, determined not to be sidetracked by her comments.

"Of course."

"Can we do it tonight? I’d feel a lot safer if I could hit back."

"I’ll have to go get the book," Anya answered, "I didn’t think you’d be anxious to try another spell so soon."

Anya had insisted on performing the ritual at her apartment so she wouldn’t have to make several trips back and forth across town. When they had begun walking, Jonathan had assumed that Anya lived nearby. Two hours later they reached the section of Sunnydale that gave squalor a bad name. Her apartment building looked like it should have been condemned in the fifties. She opened the door and spoke a few words that sounded an awful lot like Latin. Abruptly dozens of candles scattered throughout apartment lit themselves.

"Neat trick," he said nervously. "Did you forget to pay your electric bill?"

"I don’t have electricity," she answered curtly. She left Jonathan in her front room.

Given the neighborhood, he had expected rats or roaches, but there were none. "Or maybe I just can’t see them," he mumbled to himself as he strained to see the corners of the room. He decided that was a bad idea – he wasn’t sure what might be lurking at the edges of a demon’s room, but he was pretty sure he didn’t want to see it.

Anya swept back into the room with the book and the knife. "Let’s get started," she said as she sat down on the floor near the center of the room.

"How can you live like this?" he asked her.

"Like what?"

"Without any basic necessities. No electricity, I don’t see a phone or TV," he said, "not that it would make sense to have a TV without electricity…"

"It’s cheap," she said. "Anyway, those things aren’t necessary. This place is luxurious compared to where I grew up – in a shack with dirt floors. No indoor plumbing or running water, freezing in the winter, sweltering in the summer, no glass for windows. People today are spoiled."

The conversation over, Anya used the same knife she had used previously to carve the next symbol into his back – it sliced easily through his invulnerable flesh, which made him a little nervous. Afterward, he asked her if he could keep the knife, but she refused, insisting on retaining the knife for safekeeping. She explained that as soon as she had finished casting the first spell, the knife had become the focal point of the new reality and if anything happened to it, the old reality would return instantly.

It was dawn before Jonathan returned to campus. He went straight to bed, resolving never to set foot in Anya’s apartment again. He would skip his morning classes, then look to test his new abilities in the afternoon – it shouldn’t be too difficult, whenever he went out, there was always someone looking to start trouble. This time he wouldn’t back down.

Next Episode: Ninja

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