Buffy: 1+2 = 3
Anya: 4+0+(3/2) = 5.5
[X] It seems depressingly likely that the Spear the oracles made is meant for Buffy, and not in the nice way. The Powers That Be have a message for her.
They stood on the stage, just the two of them. No extras, no props, not even somewhere for Anya to sit or even lie down. She'd been adamant about that; she wanted to be standing up.
The crowd had quieted as they'd taken position, it was dead silent now. No pithy comments from the judges either. Over a thousand demons were watching them intently, and she could spot a couple of the camera-like things in the back that had been in use for some of the events. Plus there was the Willowbot with her camera eyes, which for all she knew was being used to simulcast this to the whole Watch House or something. No pressure.
Some of the previous contestants had said a lot, and some hadn't said anything at all. In the mad scramble to try to get ready to actually pull this off she hadn't thought about the showmanship, what to say, what to do.
So her line was off the cuff, "Anyanka, are you ready to be strong?"
"Hell yes." Anya said it quietly, but she didn't look nervous. Just determined.
Buffy knew the shape of the thing to look for, the little trace once being a vengeance demon had left behind. It occurred to her now, at this way-too-late stage, that D'Hoffryn might be able to do something to stop this, to yank it away or cloak it or something, and if he did she was screwed.
KILL
But apparently D'Hoffryn was in her corner or couldn't do that in the first place, because as she took hold of it metaphysically it didn't flinch away. She grabbed Anya by both shoulders at the same time, just because it felt right. The trace was small and fragile and totally inside of her, and even if her hands didn't rightly have anything to do with this it felt like she should have them there for detail work, especially since she wasn't using them to hold a hammer.
She could tell Anya flinched, but she clamped down hard on it just like Rachel had at the beginning. She probably should've called Rachel earlier, asked what it felt like, and then had Anya narrate now, to see if she was doing anything wrong. Another missed opportunity, but judging by the facial expression, this was about the same.
She felt more adroit at making the connections now, little tendrils of slayerstuff that looped over and over again, but the work was still slower than it'd been on Rachel. Aside from just being more fragile, the trace she was working with was like, not quite the right color? She hadn't really realized it at the time, but the fuzzy potential bubbles were definitely black, whereas Anya's tangle of frayed and cut-off ribbons was yellow and maybe some other stuff? But the yellow was the easiest to see, and she had not-zero idea how it worked from Halfrek, so she worked with that.
Paying more attention to her surroundings than last time, she could tell it was getting darker; it looked like the torches were dimming, but she was almost certain it was something over the whole area instead. Even so, the originally anxious crowd was already starting to get bored, some of them openly wondering if anything was going to happen at all. She shut it out and kept working. Each piece of what she was making was thinner this time, so she was going to need more of it to get fully connected.
The doubtful comments got louder, and she got her first couple catcalls. She had a little probably irrational anxiety of being kicked off the stage entirely, and it spiked for a second when D'Hoffryn finally spoke up.
"Be silent, fools," he said irritably. "A legend is being written."
It shut up the crowd instantly, and Anya even managed a smirk despite her obvious and growing discomfort. Not quite what Buffy had expected from his corner, but she'd definitely take it.
The world around them got darker and darker. Eventually Anya's legs gave out, but Buffy's grip on her meant it was hard to notice for anyone watching; even at the sort of awkward angle it was trivial to hold the girl up. Go her for totally anticipating the problem and absolutely being prepared instead of just lucky. It was almost time; she'd had to build a pretty elaborate edifice and it was kind of a shame that barely anyone but her could even see it. Even if they could, she was pretty sure the judges wouldn't give much partial credit if she messed up now, not to mention what might happen to Anya.
She finished, and then the power started and reached and coiled on its own just like it had before. Anya's face shifted instantly from discomfort to ecstasy, and then everything went wrong. She wanted to make a slayer, but it didn't, it couldn't, her power was already flowing and that wasn't what she'd-
KILL
Wilkins-in-Oz, from her dream, saying, "You built this yellow brick road on your own, missy. Beware the dangers it attracts."
KILL
Anya, singing her heart out in Caritas, "No one revels so much, in their terror!"
KILL
Eris, at the party, taunting her, "She'll be so very happy. What she really wants is power over others."
KILL
Angel, shouting in the pouring rain, "And I suppose that your new role model is Richard the First, Second, and Third, huh? Are your brand new superpowers going to turn your friend into a monster next?"
KILL
No, none of that was right, none of them had said-
KILL
Buffy herself, fingering a knife on a dark hill. "And do you know why? It's because you were just a small-time mob boss, and you forgot your fear."
KILL
Buffy again, smiling down cruelly at Sam from atop her obsidian throne. "You weren't terrified enough of me? Bring him back over here, and make him stare down at the beginning of the world."
KILL
And then she was out behind the watch house now, lecturing Angel, "I did what I had to. Wolfram and Hart wasn't scared enough of me, and that had to change."
KILL
And her, always her now, again, at the suck house, "It's OK Gwen, I've actually got a pretty good read on myself. I want you to be afraid."
KILL
The light coming from them had grown so bright that night had briefly turned into day. All the stone near them was heavily sun-bleached and the cool dirt had been transformed into fine sand. Anya cackled with glee as the flare died back down, and across the amphitheater a thousand screams rose up in response.
TERRIFY
She didn't look any different; there were no monster parts or demon ridges there. But with a terrible certainty, Buffy understood it all, as she witnessed fully half the crowd panic and flee into the night, trampling each other in their haste to escape. Anya wasn't a slayer. Maybe that was the nature of her power, but it wasn't put together the same way. She'd made something else of her friend, and the worry she felt had nothing to do with the magic.
TERRIFY
Even her own team wasn't immune to the effect. Skip was already gone with the wind and Harmony was cowering under a bench, while Andrew barely held himself together. Even the Willowbot was still and lifeless, both its pilots probably ignoring it at the moment. At least they were in the front, so nobody was going to run over them or anything.
TERRIFY
"A sloppy job all around. And, well, look at all this disruption!" Eris' words were cutting, but there was something uncertain in the delivery. "Really, I mean, I'm being generous if-"
"You're afraid of me." Anya interrupted her, heedless of any consequences, and started waltzing towards the judge's table. "Act like it."
TERRIFY
Through a sense not too different from her potential-radar, Buffy felt the fear aura or whatever the hell it was ratchet up even stronger. She was totally immune herself, but if the shakes that Eris was getting were any indication, not many others could claim to be. The screams from the crowd behind them redoubled, and even Pan was starting to look jittery.
Eris almost looked away, but then she snapped a bite out of her apple and seemed to regain her cool. "Fine! I admit you're a little bit powerful, whatever other deficiencies this performance had. Seven. Is that good enough for you?"
"It'll do," Anya said flippantly.
"Easy ten," Pan said, right after. "You brought the whole house down." Anya tilted her head coquettishly in response, and Pan shuddered.
D'Hoffryn had remained aloof and impassive for the whole exchange. Considering how all this had happened, he might be immune to her too, or maybe he was just powerful enough that he could pretend to ignore it. Now though, he grinned with delight.
"I'd heard through the grapevine that you'd be throwing around a lot of power here, but I have to admit, I didn't have any idea that the performance itself would be such a delight." His clawed hands made a slow, formal-looking clap. "Sure, there's something to be said for the fundamentals and their detailed application, but it's so rare in these times that we see a true budding artist! A young goddess with vision!"
Glowing commentary from the hellgod of vengeance really failed to make her feel better about what she'd just done.
"And Anyanka!" He continued. "You're positively radiant in your return to glory. All the potential I saw in you a thousand years ago, finally realized. It just took a little push, to get you to leave the nest."
Despite the unplanned result of the event, Anya had been the picture of confidence so far, but D'Hoffryn's words seemed to throw her. "You mean…" she trailed off, not sure what to say.
"Well, not quite as such," he answered her unsaid question. "But even as my very best employee, I could see you'd gotten yourself into a rut. But look at what you've made of yourself now! From fragile mortality to a powerful new mantle, and it didn't take you half a year. One so perfectly suited to you too! I'm just tickled.
"Of course, it goes without saying that this was a perfect ten, even if I have to say it anyway," he nodded, but then pointed a claw at each of them in turn. "But don't take this as an opportunity to rest on your laurels. I expect great and terrible things from you both in the future."
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"You're sure you're feeling OK?" Buffy asked again, still anxious.
"Stop worrying so much, I feel amazing!" Anya threw up her hands and spun on one foot, causing Harmony to flinch back from the rapid motion. Anya was too excited to notice. "There's just enough strength and vitality not to feel all weighed down and squishy too. Nowhere near slayer levels, not that that's a problem. I wouldn't have had things go any other way!"
"An off switch might have been nice," Willow said. She was piloting the Willowbot again soon after realizing what had happened. She'd explained that the effect didn't propagate fully through the remote access, but it had done enough to spook her and her AI double for a few minutes.
Anya could turn the fear aura down to a degree, but apparently this was as low as it went. Different people seemed better or worse at tolerating it, though it seemed almost universal that even knowing what was going on lessened the initial panic that had consumed everyone in the amphitheater.
Skip had come back to touch base, but left soon after saying he had some business he needed to do before the closing ceremonies. He'd tried to put on a brave front, but he hadn't taken an eye off of Anya the whole time. Harmony was more or less in the same boat, but she'd been stubbornly refusing to even acknowledge it was a problem and hadn't taken any breaks from Anya's immediate radius since the event.
Kind of surprisingly, Andrew was the most resilient.
"She might get better at controlling it with time," he said. "Many demons with esoteric inborn abilities take decades to master them. Not that I think it'll take you that long, of course."
Anya shrugged. "I'm not sure I'd ever want to turn it all the way off anyway. This just feels too good."
The large circle of space that stayed open around them as they walked through one of the campgrounds boded a little ill for that, but Buffy decided not to say anything. If it was going to cause a bunch of huge problems back in Sunnydale they would just have to deal. She would have to deal.
"What does it feel like, exactly?" Willow asked, curious.
"Like I was starving, and now I'm at an all-you-can-eat chocolate buffet," she answered.
Buffy really hoped she could deal with this. Anya strolling down main street and causing a panic because she was feeling peckish really wasn't something that could just be allowed to happen. Well, maybe once. She did feel really guilty.
Anya continued, "I can feel the fear, and all those demons in the stadium before? Sex isn't that good."
Buffy very deliberately shoved the memory of Faith ranting about how slaying made her hungry and horny out of her mind. Hoping she was overthinking things, she turned a concerned glance at Andrew. Maybe he wouldn't be horrified. Maybe this was a normal sort of mantle thing and not a super-troubling sign. Unfortunately, he was giving her the exact same look. They were going to need to talk about this later.
KILL
Her eyes flicked frontwards again as she noticed another pair of problems standing in front of them, holding fast even as the crowd around them disintegrated in Anya's presence. It was the two oracles, their long blue and silver Spear held between them. They were standing right in their path, clearly looking for trouble.
"Blue and bluer, twelve o'clock," Andrew whispered unnecessarily.
This sudden bout of seeming hostility from the Powers that were supposed to Be on her side wasn't something she felt like dealing with right now. She took the lead of her group, and marched right up to their faces.
"You have something to say?" She snapped at them, hammer already over her shoulder.
"This defiance must end." The man said it with an air of finality.
"You are out of your place." The woman nodded agreement.
She wanted to snap off something nasty, but forced herself to be at least a little diplomatic. "I don't know what you want, what you're trying to do, or what message you're trying to send. I barely even know who the two of you are. I don't know why Whistler went from pushy midget to…" She broke off, not sure what she could even say about Whistler. He definitely hadn't struck her as some kind of crazy fanatic the last time they'd met.
"We want balance," the woman started.
"Our purpose is to return you to the path," the man continued.
"You have strayed too far." And back to the woman. They weren't exactly finishing each others' sentences, but they definitely had a weird twin thing going on.
And that all but confirmed it wasn't about what she'd done, but what she was.
It was frustratingly typical. She'd never asked to be the slayer. It wasn't her idea to run for mayor. She'd spent all summer trying to figure out what was happening with her powers, and had it been Whistler or these oracles or the Powers themselves who'd come and told her: 'Whoops, looks like you're drinking too much of the Old One juice and turning into a goddess! Better do something about that!'? No, of course not, she'd found out about it from Dracula of all people, pretty much after it was already too late.
"Your backseat driving might have been useful four months ago," Buffy ground out. "But we already passed that exit on my personal highway of broken dreams. There's nothing I can do. This is what things are."
The man shook his head dismissively. "Your ascension is corrupted. Purify it."
"How!" She shouted.
"Not like that," the woman gestured at Anya and smirked.
Anya took that as a cue to enter the conversation. "You're never going to please these people, and even if you did, it wouldn't do you any good. Whistler was one of their prime show-ponies, and look what happened to him."
"Silence, lower being," the man snapped at her.
Buffy was about to speak in her defense, but Anya fired back first, suddenly flaring her aura. "Maybe you should be quiet instead."
TERRIFY
Both their grips tightened on the magic Spear, but neither of them gave ground.
"The legacy of Tears," the woman said, still focusing on Buffy. "Hardly could you make your intentions clearer."
That hurt, but she could understand how it looked. She couldn't just up and admit that what happened to Anya was a mistake. "You made your intentions pretty clear too," she pointed at their Spear.
The man was about to reply, but this time the woman raised a hand, and he stopped. She spoke again instead. "We are not making ourselves your enemy. You are making yourself into one of ours."
There were a lot of things Buffy still wanted to say, but before she could choose any of them the two oracles turned and started walking off.
"And good riddance to shiny rubbish," Willow said. "Don't let them get under your skin Buffy. Anya's probably right, they're just trying to manipulate you."
"It made me so mad when they said you weren't pure," Harmony said. "You're so pure, you're as pure as, umm, the driving thing-"
"The driven snow?" CyberWillow suggested over the radio.
"Yeah that!" Harmony agreed. "And unicorns!"
Buffy stroked her girlfriend's arm absently, still uncertain. But they were probably right. If the Powers were really on their side, they'd have actually helped like, ever. Instead, over the course of four years they'd given her a bad pep talk and then killed the guy who delivered it.
"We should get going," she said, putting it behind her for now. "Don't want to miss our own ceremony."
"It's so exciting!" Andrew cooed, taking her opportunity to change the topic. "We'll be awarded the prize of the century in front of a cheering crowd!"
"We're going to get all this on video, right?" Harmony said eagerly.
"Yeah, I mean, the Willowbot won't exactly have the best view of us," Willow said (from inside the Willowbot,) "but we're going to be trading footage with one of the Iskoort teams to get the full picture."
"You're going to edit it all up to network TV standards I hope," Anya said primly. "And I don't mean like UPN or one of those other loser channels. I'm absolutely going to have to send copies to everyone I know."
"CyberWillow has that covered already," Willow assured her. "We need it to look good if we're going to grift the government with it."
"Wait, what?" Buffy felt like she'd missed something.
"They pay olympic athletes for winning medals, I figure we can get a couple hundred grand out of it," Willow explained.
"I would edit out anything concerning foreign policy, of course," CyberWillow added.
"You were busy playing deeper magic footsie with Echo when we discussed it," Anya said, then looked over at Willow. "And this is not grift. The US government made these rules. It's perfectly legitimate."
"Of course, of course," Willow backpedaled. "Grift just felt more fun though."
Buffy boggled. "Who would we even send it to?"
"We're still communicating with Dr. Angleman," Andrew said. "He could kick it up the chain."
"Don't the people he works for kind of hate us?" Buffy asked.
He waved his hand dismissively. "A bunch of people in politics hate a bunch of other people. That has nothing to do with this kind of thing. It's just bureaucracy."
Buffy wasn't sure poking at that wound would work out so well, but Harmony was gushing about a shopping trip already. She'd decide later.
When they arrived in the central clearing for the closing ceremonies, the big winner pedestals were already set up in front of the big lake. There was a huge amount of open space between each of them, and Buffy suspected that it had been a last second change to prevent Anya from causing more panic than strictly necessary.
It was the kind of thing she'd have to start planning for in the future herself.
The Bronze pedestal (apparently actual bronze) had eight standing on it instead of seven, because two of them were Elfangor. When they'd shown up, the Andalites had been pretending to ignore everyone else, as usual, but she noticed the stalk eyes turning their way and the tail blades rising just a little higher in the air. They'd gotten out very fast when Anya did her thing, and they still looked shaken up by her.
There were also eight demons standing on the Silver pedestal, because one of them was the blurry form of the baby-teen medusa. Lethe's Agents of Discord had been in the overall lead going into the event, but not by enough that Sunnydale hadn't overtaken them in the end.
She wondered if making Anya a slayer would've been enough. Something told her it wouldn't have been. D'Hoffryn's speech and Eris' reaction made that clear enough. It made her feel a little dirty. She'd fucked up, Anya was facing permanent magical and probably psychological consequences, and it all meant Buffy got to win.
Skip peeled out of the crowd to join them right as they hopped up onto the maybe-literally-gold pedestal.
"How'd business go?" Anya asked. "Land any contracts?"
"What?" Skip was momentarily confused before recovering. "Oh, nah, the deal fell through."
He was definitely feeling the fear worse than any of them, and Buffy wasn't sure why, but it wasn't the kind of thing she could just ask. At least not right now.
Almost immediately after they mounted their pedestal, there was a musical riff to get the crowd's attention, followed by Pan dancing into the empty space their trail had left and addressing everyone.
"And there we have it!" he said. "It's been another rousing Olympics, really gets the blood pumping doesn't it? I'd bet half of you are itching to go back home and spill some of it, and the other half can't wait for some pumping of the other sort at the afterparty."
Supposedly the afterparty was usually so debauched it made the in between parties look tame. She'd been girding herself for herding the team through the experience when she first found out about it. After the big event though, Pan had gotten word to her that he felt secure right now and they could skip this one if they wanted.
In a way, it was a relief, but she could guess why it had happened. Anya's mutated powers were still fresh, nobody was quite sure how she worked, and Pan was probably afraid she would explode his party somehow.
It was the kind of thing Buffy would have to plan for Sunnydale parties now.
Pan had paused for a minute to let the crowd cheer, but now he was starting again. "But before we get to all that, I have to discharge my primary duty as the organizer of this fine show. Prizes!" He held up a big colorful sack which spontaneously appeared in his hand.
Surprisingly for an Olympics held by demons, it wasn't winner take all; Pan had a parting gift for more than half the teams ready, and he made a grand production of marching around the clearing to hand them out. She wasn't really sure what most of them were, but they usually got a pretty good reception.
Soco the Nartec Queen got what looked like a fancy gearbox; the Mok'tagar took home a twisted pair of scrolls; meanwhile the rock trolls and their weird wood-guy were given some shiny jewels. She got the sense a lot of these door prizes were picked out with the recipients in mind. She imagined Pan hadn't actually had to buy anything, if only because of the pile of weird stuff Sunnydale already had accumulated in the Watch vault. Over the course of thousands of years, Pan's random stash had probably reached epic proportions.
The Oracles representing the Powers that Be had ended up in the top ten teams, but they weren't even here, and Pan didn't comment on it, at least not publicly. Maybe he had bad blood with them too? Or they were just being divas? She made a mental note to ask him about it later, because it was pretty clear they were turning into a problem.
Pan made a conciliatory gesture when he got to the Yeerks. "You guys sorta ended up caught in the crossfire for that last event huh? No hard feelings there, I hope?"
<The demands of the war rarely leave me time to visit the homeworld in any case,> Esplin replied neutrally. <Perhaps it'll encourage those lounging there in indolence to toughen up.>
"That's the attitude!" Pan gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder, and the Visser seemed to struggle not to snap his tail or something. She guessed he wasn't a very touchy guy. "But just in case you feel like a vacation sometime, take this," he brought out an old-style lantern and handed it over.
"The light from it hedges out anything fully or partially incorporeal. Great if you have to worry about assassins too, and you seem like that kinda guy."
<The gesture is much appreciated.> To her ear, it actually sounded sincere. Buffy wouldn't have thought fourth place would net something quite that magical either, even if it was pretty specific.
Pan was making the rounds in ascending order, so he approached the podiums last. "Elfangor! Or is it Elfangors now?" Pan joked. "I'm not even sure who I should give the prize to!"
<Perhaps one for each of us would be appropriate.> One of them replied.
"What a kidder," Pan laughed. "You've got some real spunk hidden under that dreary Andalite formality. "But no, this thing I've only got one of, so you'll have to share."
He pulled out a Greek lute (she knew what it was because satyrs had been using them all around the area for the last two weeks,) but this one was weird. Instead of tan or brown or some garishly painted variety it was a natural green, even the strings.
"It's tuned in the Song of the Green," Pan explained.
<A most valuable relic,> one of the Elfangors acknowledged.
"Well, I won't disabuse you of that, but it's also gotten pretty fussy lately," Pan said. "None of my dryads have been able to do much with it for the past thousand years. If anyone can though…"
<It will be an engaging challenge,> he finished.
"And do we know what the Song of the Green is?" Buffy asked quietly.
"Never heard of it," Skip muttered.
"Probably some deeper magic thing," Anya said negligently.
"A source from the Wilkins library makes oblique reference to it as a means of communication with trees," CyberWillow answered.
It brought to mind the talking trees she'd run into in dream Oz, but at least it didn't sound like something that'd cause a huge amount of extra trouble in LA.
Pan was on to the next group now. "Lethe," he greeted her. "I'm a little surprised your mother isn't standing up here."
"This was really my team, you know," she said, sounding aggrieved.
"And I'm sure everyone will remember that," Pan replied snidely. "Anyway, you're almost as old as I am, so I'm sure you already have all kinds of stuff you don't want. Therefore I have a gift for your daughter instead."
A black sheet jumped out of the sack as he said it, flying through the air and then wrapping itself around the short blurry medusa. At first Lethe's spell made it hard to see what had happened exactly, but after a second the blurring stopped and the result was fully visible. Her head was totally covered in a sort of veil/hood combo, with the colorful snakes peeking out from folds in the material. The rest of the sheet trailed behind her like a cape, flapping in a non-existent wind. One would think it might clash with the purple and gold number she was already wearing, but somehow it managed to work.
"What," the medusa said. By the lack of anyone nearby petrifying, the cloak seemed sufficiently protective.
"Nyxette, the semiliteral cloak of the night. Your great-grandmother made it a very long time ago, and she'd probably want you to have it now anyway," Pan said.
"Umm. Thanks?" She said it uncertainly, her orange snake extending and poking at the fluttering cape part. It curled up and poked it back.
"Speaking of, do you even have a name yourself yet?" Pan asked.
Lethe rolled her eyes, "She's being-"
"Shut up!" the medusa girl interrupted. "It's important."
"People don't usually name themselves," Lethe said tiredly.
"People don't usually get born in front of a crowd of thousands and then immediately scared out of their minds," her daughter imitated her tired tone.
"And when they do name themselves," Lethe continued her earlier thought, "They're usually snappy about it."
"Didn't mean to scratch a sore spot," Pan said as he backed away from the squabble. "Best wishes and everything."
"We're up next," Harmony's hands fidgeted. "It's so annoying that mirrors don't work. I want to fix my makeup."
"You look fine Harm," Buffy said.
"It's our big moment though!" Harmony protested.
"I can't believe this is what's on her mind right now, and yet somehow I can," Willow said.
"Don't panic, just let me do it," Andrew started to give her a quick once over.
"So are you excited for Quor'toth?" Anya asked Buffy, rubbing her hands. "I really can't wait."
Buffy hadn't really stopped and thought about going to Quor'toth yet. There was going to be a lot to catch up on at home, plus the whole Elfangor thing. And she kinda felt like she needed a vacation from vacations like this one had been. But it was conveniently civilian-free, so it was probably a good place to bring Anya.
"I'm sure it'll be a blast," she said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
"I just hope we don't get in over our heads," Jonathan said, abruptly popping back out of his Veil and giving everyone around a shock of not-quite-deja-vu. "It won't be like this trip was, with D'Hoffryn's threat hanging over anyone wanting to invade the Hellmouth." He didn't mention Adam by name, but it was clear that's who he was worried about.
Buffy had almost expected him to show up at the Olympics, bold as brass, but it was all over now and there hadn't been so much as a sign of him. It boded. Just another thing to fret about on top of her giant fretpile.
"And finally we come to our grand champions!" Pan belted it out extra-vibrantly. "From upstart underdogs to the new big thing on the block in just two weeks, I think everyone here knows that Buffy and the Sunnydale Hellmouth are destined for big things. Here's the first of them: the legendary and long-lost key to the Quor'toth!"
The prize he pulled out of the bag was a bent leathery stick, three feet long and with a nasty claw on the end. It might have been just for show, but it also might've been a giant's finger. Pan handed it off to her and she accepted it gingerly. In addition to looking creepy, it was pretty warm; like body temperature at least.
"We'll make sure to get some good use out of it," Buffy improvised.
"Better than most would, I'm sure," Pan agreed. "Now to close things off, would you like to say a few words?"
Buffy paused, uncertain, but Anya came forward confidently, giving her just a glance for permission.
TERRIFY
"Everyone's seen what we can do now," Anya said, flaring her aura. "But don't think that's all we can do. Cross us, and we'll do even worse!"
It wasn't a bad sentiment, but something about the way she said it made Buffy's worries about Anya grow just a little bit more. She couldn't show it though. She had to be supportive.
"Couldn't have said it better myself."
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Next time, on Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Elfangor told Buffy his story, and she quickly discovered a miscarriage of justice that led to his secret maybe-wife being thrown into Los Angeles' California State Prison. To avoid an interdimensional incident, she agreed to help him deal with the problem, but how is she going to approach it? What's she going to do about the treaty with Wolfram and Hart? (And when will she see the Ice Show with her possibly unwilling dad?)
[] Buffy will call Wolfram and Hart about the issue and give them the chance to spearhead the effort to free Loren: they are very good lawyers after all. She'll go to LA personally with Elfangor to meet with them. Wolfram and Hart are definitely evil, but they're a kind of evil she thinks she can mostly control.
[] Buffy will try to use her influence as a politician to get Loren freed, going to LA in a somewhat official capacity and enlisting Congressman Gold as an ally. Her goal is to get Loren out on early parole, or secure her a pardon from the governor, or else maybe even get her released by the Feds for reasons of 'national security'. With her visit being nonviolent in nature and totally above board, she thinks it's pretty unlikely Wolfram and Hart will make a fuss.
[] Buffy will go to LA with Elfangor and an extraction team, with the goal of covertly springing Loren from jail. It's likely Wolfram and Hart can detect her presence, but she'll only tell them she needs to be in LA on business unrelated to any of their clients. It'll be on their heads if they decide to break the ceasefire over it.
