Early June 2000

Writer: Sagremor

Jonathan	Anya	Buffy	Willow

"Willow," Buffy said groggily as she dragged herself into an upright position in her bed. Willow had been asleep when Buffy had returned from her patrol so this was the first opportunity she had to warn the redhead about Forrest. Willow looked up from her laptop.

"You’re awake, Miss Sleepyhead," Willow remarked brightly. "Better hurry if you want to be on time for your 10:00 class. It’s ten ‘til now."

"I’m skipping it," Buffy replied as she dropped heavily back down onto her bed. "How’d your date with Forrest go?"

"I-it wasn’t a date," Willow responded, flustered. "It was just coffee and bagels and – and nothing happened – except lots of talking, mostly by me. Not even talking, really – more like a friendly chat. Forrest is a good listener. Plus he’s not as scary as I thought he was."

"What did you ‘chat’ about?"

"Not about you – I told him right away that I wouldn’t say anything about you. ‘No Buffy-talk’ I said. ‘If you want to know what’s going with Buffy and Riley you can just ask Riley.’ But he said he was more interested in me. My hobbies, my interests, my hopes and aspirations…"

"As long as you didn’t mention your Wiccan activities – if you did they’ll transport you to Nevada with Ethan Rayne. Forrest is an initiative spy." Buffy said, breaking into Willow’s ramble. "Wake me in time for lunch," she said as she snuggled back under her covers.

Episode 5:
"Jedi Mind Tricks"

Anya was waiting for Jonathan as he left the Dean’s office. "You’re not in chains," she said as he approached her. "I assume the ritual worked."

He pulled her away from the other people filing out of the office and milling around in the hallway. "Not so loud," he whispered anxiously. "Yes, it worked. Almost perfectly. Deans Johnson and Holliway believed everything I said and fought for me. Dean Samuelson, on the other hand, screamed and yelled about how he wanted me off the campus. He must be my new nemesis. Two to one vote – I’m a free man. I asked Dean Holliway where they took the knife and needles and she said campus security had them under lock and key. We need to get them back soon."

"Good luck."

"You will help me," Jonathan said, locking his gaze on hers.

"It won’t work on me," she said flatly. "I made an amulet to protect myself."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"No problem. I was a demon long enough to learn not to give mortals power over me," Anya replied without a trace of animosity. "When can you get The Arcanum d’Anquentil?"

"If you help me tonight and I’ll ask Professor Jameson tomorrow," he offered.

"I only need it to help you. If you want that shadow demon chasing you for the rest of your short life, that’s fine with me. You’ll have to do your own robberies – I’m not breaking another date with Xander. Anyway, how hard can it be? Just go up to the security people and ask them for the knife and needles."

"I hadn’t thought of that," he said. "Still, you might be a little more supportive."

"For someone with supernatural powers, you sure whine a lot."

Willow carefully arranged the items she had purchased about her room in prominent locations. She had been a nervous wreck for most of the morning after Buffy’s pronouncement. She didn’t remember exactly what ahe had told him, but she was sure she had told Forrest too much about her Wiccan activities – although she was pretty certain that she hadn’t come right out and announced that she was a witch. Buffy had met her at lunch with a plan – convince Forrest, and the Initiative, that she was only playing at being a witch. So she had purchased crystals, incense and candles from a New Age shop, a Ouija board, some books on "empowerment" – which she left by her bedside with pages she had dog-eared, herbal tea and an "I brake for Unicorns" bumper sticker which she pasted over her bed. No one who saw her room would believe she was a real witch. She had also contacted the university Wicca group and found out what time they were meeting. She had stopped attending when she had met Tara, but if she could only manage to get Forrest to come to one of their meetings he would be convinced that she had no more magical power than a toaster.

Of course, things never went as smoothly as Anya predicted. Instead of blithely handing over the confiscated items, the guard became enraged at the mere mention of them, screaming at and threatening Jonathan. As Jonathan tried vainly to calm him, he became more and more angry, finally forcibly ejecting Jonathan from the building where he wandered around the perimeter, looking for a possible entrance.

The shadow creature was waiting for him. It lashed out, stronger than before – Jonathan stepped back, reeling from the impact even as his magically enhanced reflexes blocked each blow. He retreated slowly, giving ground as he inched toward the better-lit sections of the campus. It followed inexorably, eerily silent, but as the light grew brighter, the blows lost their force – and then it stopped, unwilling to follow Jonathan any further. Jonathan stopped as well, unwilling to advance beyond the radius of the streetlight. The creature stepped back into the deeper shadows and was gone.

"Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, Ninja Boy?"

Jonathan jumped at the voice and spun around. It was Buffy. "You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that!" he exclaimed.

"What are you and Anya up to?" she asked as she warily circled Jonathan. "And what was that creature you were fighting?" She reminded Jonathan of a panther, muscles tensed and ready to spring at any instant.

"I-I not completely sure," he replied uncertainly. "Some kind of shadow demon. It seems to weaken in the light – I was trying to lure it into the light so I could fight it when you scared it off. Anya’s has been helping me try to find information about it in the Latin books."

"I see. You’re a demon hunter and Anya is research girl," she replied skeptically. "Funny that I never ran across you until now, I thought I knew all the demon hunters."

"I try to keep a low profile. I-I find it keeps the demons guessing. Plus they can’t target my friends and family."

"So now you’re a super-hero," Buffy continued ironically, "and mild-mannered Jonathan Levinson is your secret identity." She took a step closer to Jonathan. "Want to guess how much of this I believe?"

"You should believe it all. We’re on the same side," he said nervously as he met her steely gaze. "We shouldn’t be fighting." Her resolution vanished – a series of conflicting expressions swept across her face. "We ought to be allies," he continued soothingly.

"Allies?" she echoed uncertainly.

"The two of us together would be unstoppable."

"I want to know more about how you went from President-for-Life of the Sunnydale Nerd Squad to the Ultimate Fighting Champion. That and why you don’t have a shadow…"

"That’s not important, what’s important is that we work together, not against each other."

She hesitated briefly before saying thoughtfully, "That’s not a stupid idea. I could use a sidekick who can actually help fight. Want to help me finish my patrol?"

"I think I’m done for the night," Jonathan replied with a sigh of relief. Buffy had relaxed completely. He couldn’t believe his good fortune – with the trouble Anya’s spells had given him previously, he had half-expected Buffy to beat him into a bloody pulp. "I doubt the demon will be back – no need for a patrol. Plus I starving – fighting makes me hungry."

"Me too," she replied. "And this place has been dead for the last couple of weeks – dead in the good sense – so skipping patrol one night won’t hurt. I wouldn’t mind getting some food."

"We could order a pizza," Jonathan suggested. "My dorm is nearby."

"Okay. Wait – what type? – nothing weird."

"I like alfalfa sprouts and barbecued chicken."

"Yuck!"

"You’ll love it," he said. "One bite and it’ll become your favorite. You won’t ever want to eat anything else."

Willow sat across the table from Buffy; they had met for lunch, as usual. Willow had finished half her salad before she noticed that Buffy wasn’t eating – she was merely toying with her own salad. "You’re not eating, Buffy," Willow said. "Aren’t you hungry?"

"I thought I was," she muttered sullenly. "It doesn’t look very appetizing, though."

Willow shrugged, "Mine tastes fine. The zucchini in particular is fresh and crunchy. Hey, there’s a Wicca meeting on Thursday – any chance you can talk Forrest into coming with me? But subtly so he doesn’t know we’re setting him up for an evening of menstruation cycles and crystal worship?"

"Maybe. If I see him I’ll mention it, maybe hint that you guys are a secret society – no outsiders allowed without an invitation, stuff that’ll get his curiosity roused," Buffy replied. "Don’t worry: I’m subtlety girl." She looked disdainfully at her salad. "I think I want pizza. I tried to order one for breakfast, but they wouldn’t deliver ‘til eleven." She got up to leave, abandoning her untouched lunch.

Anya was waiting outside his door when Jonathan returned that afternoon. "Where have you been?" she demanded.

"Class," he replied tersely as he opened his door. "When you skip it more than twice a week it hurts the professors’ feelings." He entered his room and Anya followed him in. He swung the door shut behind her. "Plus I had to get this," he said, pulling an ancient book from his backpack and handing it her.

"The Arcanum d’Anquentil!" she whispered excitedly and she took the book from Jonathan and carefully opened it. "I have to admit, I never thought you’d be able to get it. There’s an aura of incompetence about you that’s almost impossible to ignore."

"Thanks. Maybe you’ll stop nagging me now that you have it."

"If the shadow demon is capable of being bound, this book will have the ritual – it’s just a matter of discovering which one is correct," Anya continued obliviously as she walked over to the empty side of Jonathan’s room. She sat down at the edge of his former roommate’s bed and continued to flip through the pages. "Did you have any trouble getting it?" she asked absently.

"None," he said. "I asked Professor Jameson for the book and she had it an hour later. She even offered to give me extra credit if I could translate a few pages. When this suggestion thing works, it really works well. It even worked on Buffy. Of course when it doesn’t work, people try to kill me."

"Hmm," she murmured.

"Any idea why?"

"Why what?" Anya asked softly, completely engrossed in the book.

"Why some people go psycho when I try to use my mind powers. Like the campus security guy," he replied angrily. "I still need to get the knife back. I think I’ll have Buffy help me tonight – we’re patrolling at eight. I just need to come up with a plausible explanation for why we need to break in. And I’d really like to know why it works on some people and not on others. Buffy has nothing in common with the deans and Professor Jameson." Anya didn’t even acknowledge his tirade. "You’re not even listening!" he shouted.

She looked up. "What are you complaining about now?" she demanded imperiously.

"Never mind," he said disgustedly, "it’s not important – it’s just my life! Go back to your reading." She shrugged and obediently turned her attention back to the book.

Buffy had other plans – she was intent on patrolling in Sunnydale rather than the campus. "It’s been quiet on the school grounds," she had said. "With you me and the Initiative all in the same area, it’s no wonder we haven’t been busy lately."

Now they were headed to Willy’s – a demonic bar, according to the Slayer.

"Whenever I need information, I head here and beat Willy until he squeals," she said as the neared the dilapidated entrance. "Actually, I threaten him and he caves in before any actual violence. I can’t believe you didn’t know about Willy’s. How long have you been fighting demons?"

"Not long – I got my powers suddenly." She slowed her pace and looked at him suspiciously. "Is that unusual?" he asked defensively. "Were you born with a stake in your hand?"

"No," she sighed, "I guess not. Let’s go in – you’ve got a fake ID, right?" A look of panic crossed Jonathan’s face, but Buffy just smiled. "Relax," she whispered conspiratorially, "I know the owner – I can get you in." She kicked the door open and stepped inside…

"Wow," Jonathan said nervously. "I had no idea there were so many demons in Sunnydale."

"Neither did I," Buffy muttered. The place was packed. Demons of every variety lined the bar and filled the tables. Several were looking pointedly at the Slayer and her companion. "I’m thinking low profile," she whispered to Jonathan, already regretting her overly dramatic entrance. "There’s a table over there."

"Maybe we should come back later," he whispered back.

"I need to know why they’re all here," she replied quietly. "Also, if we turn around and run for it, the demons will chase us for sure. They’re like packs of rabid baboons – if they sense fear they’ll come after us." She began to weave her way through the crowd and Jonathan, fearful of being separated, followed in her wake.

"I think we should have sat on the other side," Jonathan said as he sat down opposite Buffy. "That looks like the human section." There were glasses from the previous patrons still setting on the table.

"That would be the vampire section," she calmly informed him.

Jonathan picked up one of the empty cups and sniffed it. He jerked his head back abruptly. "What were they drinking?"

"Those are the kinds of questions that should be left unanswered. And unasked."

"This seems like a very unhealthy environment. I’m thinking we should get out of here. Now."

Their waitress interrupted them. "Sorry about the wait," she said. "And I’ll get this mess cleaned up right away – in the meantime, can I take your order?"

Jonathan and Buffy were both shocked into silence. They recognized her.

Buffy recovered her composure first. "Anya," she said, "what are you doing here?"

"Buffy," Anya replied. "And Jonathan. I might ask you the same thing. I thought you two were breaking into the campus security building tonight."

Buffy looked questioningly at Jonathan. "They have some items I need to combat the shadow demon," he explained hastily. "My self-appointed dorm cop confiscated them and I need them back."

Buffy looked back at Anya. "What’s going on?" she whispered.

"Willy’s letting me work here when it’s busy," she replied with an unusually cheerful lilt. "It lets me keep in touch with the demonic community. I never socialized much when I had my powers but now I realize I was missing out," she sighed wistfully.

"Why is it so busy?" Buffy demanded.

"Happy Hour," Anya said. "On Tuesdays, Willy hires an empath demon to project happiness from sunset until midnight. I guess it’s more like Happy Five Hours. I get good tips."

"Sort of a supernatural high," Buffy interjected. "How come we didn’t feel it when we walked in?"

"It takes time. The longer you’re exposed to his broadcasts, the more control he has over your emotions. There’s also proximity – you’re pretty far away – he’s the blue one at the bar. Thursdays are also pretty busy – it’s Torch Night."

"What’s Torch Night?" Buffy asked.

"Bring a torch and your drinks are half off while it’s burning," Anya replied.

"That’s an odd marketing gimmick," Buffy mused.

"It’s a nostalgia thing," she explained. "Reminds us of the days when angry groups of peasants roamed the street with torches and clubs. There are no good mobs these days."

"You said the blue demon is the empath?" Jonathan asked nervously. "You mean the one that’s coming towards us?"

Anya turned to look at him. "That’s him," she burbled happily as she waved at the approaching demon. "Now," she said as she turned her attention back to Jonathan and Buffy, "what can I get you?"

Buffy felt the power of the demon as it approached. She began to feel a little happier while Anya positively beamed when it spoke to her.

"Anyanka," it said in a deep baritone. "The boss wants your friends gone. Immediately. They are driving away paying customers and this cuts into my commission." He motioned to the vampire section – it was already half-deserted and others were slipping away. "This makes me unhappy – and if I’m unhappy, everyone is unhappy…"

"We were just leaving," Jonathan said anxiously.

"I was not addressing you," it growled as it clapped a clawed hand on Jonathan’s shoulder and pointed a talon at Jonathan’s chest. "Do not speak when in the presence of your betters, human."

Jonathan stood up and made eye contact. "We do not want trouble," he intoned, "leave us in peace."

The demon roared in rage. In one fluid motion, it lifted Jonathan by his shirt and tossed him effortlessly into the wall. Instantly the bar was in an uproar – the tables emptied as every demon in the bar simultaneously attacked its neighbor. The blue demon launched itself at Jonathan, roaring furiously, but Buffy halted it mid-flight with a well-placed kick. It crashed to the ground a few feet short of Jonathan.

Buffy rushed to Jonathan’s side. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I’m invulnerable," he replied as he got back on his feet.

"Really?"

But the conversation was interrupted by the empath demon – this time Jonathan was able to react. He easily evaded the demon’s clumsy attacks and struck back with dazzling speed and dexterity. But his blows did little more than annoy and disorient the demon – Jonathan lacked the strength to do more. The demon was so intent on killing Jonathan that he ignored the slayer completely. She took the opportunity to arm herself with a chair and slammed it against the side of the demon’s head with enough force to knock it back into the wall and into unconsciousness.

As quickly as the battle had begun, it ended. All the fighting came to an abrupt end and all eyes focused on Buffy and Jonathan.

Buffy and Jonathan exchanged meaningful glances – then headed to the door at a pace just under a panicked gallop. A black demon with curling horns stepped into their path and reached for Jonathan, but he spun away and knocked the demon off balance – it stumbled towards Buffy, who reflexively jabbed it in the abdomen with sufficient force to knock it down. As it fell, it vomited up the evening’s drinks on the slayer, then collapsed on its hands and knees, continuing to retch. A few seconds of palpable silence followed the confrontation before the tension was shattered by a maniacal giggle from a darkened corner. Quickly, the entire bar filled with laughter as Buffy stood aghast, the entire right side of her body soaked with steaming demon vomit. Jonathan grabbed her left arm and propelled her to the door as quickly as he could.

"Do you think we should go back for Anya?" Jonathan asked as he glanced back once more before they rounded the corner from the bar.

"We have to get to my house now!" Buffy exclaimed. "I need a shower."

"Do you think she’ll be okay?"

"You don’t understand," Buffy continued, "this stuff is burning me." She broke into a jog and Jonathan struggled to keep pace. "Don’t worry, Anya’ll be fine," Buffy told him as they ran. "You heard her, that’s her idea of a good time."

"That looks pretty bad," Jonathan said quietly. "Maybe you should see a doctor." It was eleven o’clock when Buffy had finally emerged from the shower and Joyce hadn’t returned home yet. Buffy’s right arm was bright red and blistered.

"It’ll be fine," she assured him. "I heal quickly – one of my more useful Slayer powers – not as good as invulnerability – but by tomorrow morning this will look like a not particularly bad sunburn. I just hope they’re no side effects."

"Does demon vomit usually have side effects? I ask purely for educational purposes."

"Not sure. Surprisingly enough, this is the first time it’s ever come up," she replied. "So are you really invulnerable – to everything?"

"So far…"

"I could stake you and you wouldn’t feel a thing?"

"I’d feel it – I feel pain. It just wouldn’t kill me."

"Would decapitation kill you?"

"Yes. Probably – I’ve never tested it."

"How about burning you alive?"

"I don’t know," He said defensively. "Now lets drop the subject."

"Subject dropped. Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten since breakfast and that was just a slice of cold pizza left over from last night."

The Summers’ residence was outside the delivery area, so Jonathan and Buffy ordered a carryout pizza from the only pizza parlor near campus that offered barbecued chicken and alfalfa as toppings. They headed back to campus to pick it up. Along the way, they stopped and broke into the campus security building, easily retrieving the missing items. Buffy asked a lot of questions, but each time Jonathan silenced her with a glance and a few words. They picked up the pizza and ate it at Jonathan’s dorm, where Jonathan provided Buffy with a choice of several different ointments for her blistered arm. Finally, just past midnight, Buffy returned to her own dorm.

Jonathan carefully hid the stolen items in his medical kit, buried under vitamin jars, gauze and medications. He had been thinking about his power of suggestion – it only seemed to work on females. Every male he had tried to talk to had become enraged – at least he thought the demon was a male…

Jonathan resolved to test this theory the next day by asking a beautiful young woman to have lunch with him. Perhaps, in the interest of thoroughly testing the hypothesis, he should ask a different girl to lunch every day for a week… maybe longer…

Next Time: Pentagrams and Miranda Warnings

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