(no subject)
Childish Things, Part Eleven
Gunn was still high on his morning cereal sugar rush when Anya arrived at the house, and he cannoned into her as she made her way to the kitchen, making her drop her parcels.
“Go away, small clumsy boy,” she told him fiercely, making ‘shoo’ing motions. “Go and play with something. Have you ever, for instance, wondered what happens if you insert an eating implement into an electrical outlet?”
Xander hastily steered her into the kitchen and away from the children, where she was glared at by everyone who had overheard her. “What?” she retorted.
Buffy turned to Xander. “Promise me you and Anya aren’t planning to have children?”
Angel hurried after Gunn to make sure he wasn’t trying out Anya’s suggestion for a fun game and then came back in no better temper with her. “You just sent out mystical objects to random people all over the country?”
“No.” She placed her parcels on the kitchen table. “I sent them out to carefully selected people who I thought would be likely to need a good deal of magical equipment throughout the year and who for some inexplicable reason weren’t buying it from us when they should have been.”
Angel gaped at her. “You expect me to mail order my magical equipment from you every time I have a crisis? When we need something we always need it straight away.”
“It sounds to me as if you’re not planning ahead,” Anya shrugged. “If you kept a stock of the things that you were most likely to need then you wouldn’t need to be rushing around to inferior magical suppliers at short notice. And before you write off the idea I think you should look at our prices, which are very competitive.” She handed Angel a price list.
Angel turned to Xander. “Doesn’t she have any shame?”
“Not so as you’d notice.” Xander put his arm around Anya. “Just one of the things I love about her.”
No one who knew Anya was particularly surprised at her unwillingness to accept any share of the blame for what had transpired with Angel and his associates in the Hyperion. She waved away Angel’s impassioned protests, and Xander’s more tactful protests with the same airy lack of interest.
“You made a silly wish. If you’re in the habit of making silly wishes I really don’t think it matters where you got your wish amulet from. Now, if it had been in the old days when I used to encourage scorned women to make wishes and your friends had been hurt by one of those I would at least pretend to feel sorry about it.”
“They got turned into children at least in part because of you!”
“But, really, their essence wasn’t altered, was it? They’re just shorter and louder people than they were before. They probably consume less food and can fit into considerably more compact spaces as well. You could purchase a smaller car, thereby saving on gasoline consumption and helping the environment.”
“I don’t need associates I can flat pack. We fight demons for a living.”
Anya looked down her nose at him. “I find that speciesist of you. There are some very nice demons in the world.”
“We fight non-nice ones.”
She sniffed. “As I understand it you weren’t a very nice demon yourself so what gives you the right to decide on the niceness or lack of niceness of other demons? Given your hair care decisions I'm suspecting that your judgement can occasionally be faulty.”
Buffy jerked her head at Xander. “Shall we break this up before it gets scary?”
“I'm already scared,” he confessed. “Anya, my sweet. Why don’t you go and show Tara, the eternally tolerant, all the exciting and potentially dangerous things you’ve bought for the Magic Box while I lure Angel away with a nice cup of blood…”
Angel’s only revenge option was to insist that Anya stayed for the reversing ceremony, meaning she had to be in the house with Wesley, Cordelia and Gunn. She was obviously uncomfortable around children, regarding them with the same horror that someone who lived in an all cream apartment might have regarded a muddy spaniel. No one thought it was coincidence that Giles had chosen to be late on the day when Anya had returned home, especially as his record of punctuality - barring mystical transformations - was pretty much unblemished.
“He is such a coward,” Buffy muttered as she once again received no answer from his house. “He’s laying low until Angel and Anya have finished yelling at one another.”
“I kind of wish I’d followed his example,” Willow admitted.
“Thank god for Tara,” Buffy added, thinking of the way the ever-patient witch had allowed Anya to give her the hard sell on her new purchases for an uninterrupted hour of peace for the rest of them.
However, even the new purchases could not keep Anya separated from the children forever. When Cordelia fell over in the yard and scraped her knee and ran crying to the first available adult, Anya visibly blanched. Patting her awkwardly on the head, she said, “There, there, small girl. Why don’t you go and talk to Tara? She likes children even when they have glutinous substances running out of their noses...”
Watching from the kitchen window as Tara hurried out to scoop Cordelia up, Willow said to Xander, “You’re really not going to have children with Anya, are you, Xander? Because you know you’d have to leave her alone with them sometime.”
“She’d be different with her own,” he said, although not with any great conviction.
“How do you know you wouldn’t come home one day to find she’d eaten her young on the grounds that it was more economically cost efficient?”
As they watched Tara lead Cordelia away, Gunn charged up to her a second time, waving a complicated Lego object at her and demanding that she help him put it back together. Bending down she hissed at him fiercely, “Go away, small child, or I’ll be forced to turn into a demon and hex you.”
Gunn looked up at her wide eyed. “Cool! Do it now! Do it now! Wes! The skinny chick says she can do demony things!”
“‘Skinny chick’?” Anya echoed in outrage. “I’ll have you know that my size and weight are considered ideal for my height within the context of the fashions of this area and era.”
Gunn shrugged. “Compared with Cordelia you look kind of flat-chested to me.”
If Anya had been capable of turning back into a demon, Xander was quite certain she would have done so at that point. Hurrying out there to intervene, he heard her hiss: “As I recall, entire mountain ranges would have appeared ‘flat-chested’ when compared to Cordelia.”
“Anya, let the small child go.” Xander pleaded soothingly. She had grabbed Gunn’s arm and showed every inclination of twisting it off.
“It’s a very annoying small child,” she pointed out.
“That’s kind of in the job description for boys below a certain age.” Xander took Gunn’s other arm. “Really not a good idea to dent the rugrats, An. Angel’s a little on the psychotically protective side. And then there’s…”
“What are you doing?”
The shriek of outrage was so loud that it made several neighbourhood dogs begin to bark.
Xander grimaced. “As I was saying… And then there’s Dawn…”
Dawn snatched Gunn away from Anya and up into her arms, eyes blazing with fury. She stabbed an accusing finger at Anya and said, “You’re a bad bad person and I hope Xander comes to his senses in time!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anya retorted.
“Exactly what it sounds like! Dating Cordelia was Xander’s previous all time low but you even have that beat!”
“Ladies, please…” Xander pleaded ineffectually.
With her hands on her hips Anya said, “I think we all know you’re just jealous because you have a silly schoolgirl crush on Xander.”
Clasping Gunn to her protectively, Dawn retorted: “And I think we all know that he’s only going out with you because you have good sex with him!”
Buffy arrived in the kitchen at that point and exchanged a glance with Willow. “This could get ugly.”
“Yes, someone really ought to break that up.” Willow plucked a chocolate from the box on the side and pushed it to Buffy. “Or we could just stand here and watch.”
“It’s Xander I feel sorry for.”
“Xander needs to get over his really bad taste in girlfriends.”
“I heard that!”
They turned around to find Cordelia and Tara in the doorway. Tara winced at them apologetically.
“Oh, I didn’t mean you, Cordy!” Willow said breathlessly.
“Yes, you did!”
“No, no, I really didn’t. Look - chocolate.”
The scowl on Cordelia’s face vanished to be replaced by one of cautious interest. “Is it good chocolate?”
“Godiva,” Buffy assured her. “Here. Have lots.”
Cordelia carefully selected one for her, one for Wesley, and one for Gunn, then put them back and took the box. “I think I will.”
Buffy and Willow sadly watched the chocolates leave. “I'm starting to go off having kids around,” Buffy observed.
Tara looked at Willow sideways. “Maybe not the best time to talk about the adoption plan I had last night then?”
Buffy glanced out of the window again where Dawn was still telling Anya what she thought of her. “Wow, my sister really doesn’t need to breathe like ordinary human beings, does she?”
“Do you think we should do something?” Tara asked tentatively.
As they were thinking it, Cordelia marched decisively to the back door and shouted, “Gunn! Chocolate! And Wesley is ageing in there waiting for you to watch the Disney cartoon with him. He’d like to see it before he has to start studying for his SATs.”
Gunn immediately wriggled down from Dawn’s arms, took her hand firmly in his and began to tug her rapidly in the direction of the chocolates. “Come on, Dawnie. Play with the not scary flat-chested demon lady later. We need to watch Fantasia with Wesley. Does it have any explosions?”
Distracted from her argument with Anya, Dawn gazed down into big brown eyes in a face of impossible cuteness and entirely lost the thread of her latest insult. “It has dancing hippos.”
“Cool. What about car chases?”
“Not so many of those really. But there are dinosaurs. And flying horses.”
“Does it have any sword fights?”
“It has Mickey Mouse…”
As they reached the door, Cordelia held out the chocolate box and Dawn’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Godiva chocolates. Buffy never lets me have those. She says they’re wasted on the young.”
“That’s so ageist.” Cordelia firmly took Dawn’s other hand in hers and led her away from the garden and back to the cartoon.
“Cordelia, the Peacemaker.” Buffy shook her head, already wanting another chocolate and wishing she’d had the sense to grab one before Cordelia took the box. “Who would have thunked it?”
“Don’t use bad grammar in front of my kids.” Angel wandered into the kitchen. Seeing Anya outside gesticulating frantically at Xander and stamping her foot, he frowned. “Did I miss anything?”
“Nothing,” Willow said hastily. “Definitely not any threats of bodily harm to Gunn in particular.”
Buffy said gently, “Willow - if you’re thinking of a life in the secret service as a double agent - probably time to rethink it.”
“Where are my kids?” Angel looked around anxiously.
“Watching Fantasia with Dawn.” Tara pointed to the living room. “See.”
Buffy cupped a hand to her ear. “Yes, hear that? It’s the happy sound of children squabbling over who gets the soft centres.”
Angel went to the door to check. “Gunn, don’t get chocolate on the cushions. Cordy, don’t hit Wesley with the cushions before or after Gunn gets chocolate on them. Dawn, stop spoiling Gunn. Wesley, don’t let Cordy bully you just because she’s a girl.”
“Why not?” Wesley called back faintly. “I let her bully me just because she’s a girl when we’re normal sized.”
Angel acknowledged the point with a shrug. “True. Cordy, stop bullying Wesley.”
“It’s character building for him,” she called back.
“Well, build his character with less pinching and hair pulling. Gunn, what did I just say about the cushions…?”
Buffy raised an eyebrow as she looked at Tara and Willow. “We need to remember these moments when we’re thinking about how cute they looked in their jammies.”
“Oh…” Willow’s face fell. “If Giles does the spell today that means we won’t get to see another bath time or read them any more stories. And we won’t get to see Gunn sucking his thumb or wearing those cute little P.J.s with the little tiny Piglets and Tiggers on them.”
“Unless he does that when he’s an adult, which seems unlikely.” Buffy sighed. “You know, if we’re going to face the hideous prospect of a kid-free future, I think we need to buy more chocolate.”
“Definitely.” Willow nodded. “Given the level of trauma we’re currently suffering, I think we’d be justified in going to that place with the really expensive imported chocolate and oh yes, as Giles will be traumatized too, we should buy him donuts.”
“The jelly ones.” Buffy reached for her purse. “We should get on that.”
“And the fact that it gets us out of the house while Anya is in a really bad mood…?” Tara murmured.
Buffy looked as innocent as she was capable of looking. “Just a happy bonus.”
***
Angel heard the sound of crying first. It was a soft, plaintive sob but his hearing was acute, while even Wesley heard the sniffing that followed it. They looked at one another and grimaced and then Angel tentatively eased open the door to the sitting room a fraction and looked inside.
Anya was sitting on the couch, surrounded by her new magical purchases, crying quietly, and wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
“I refuse to feel guilty,” Angel whispered fiercely to Wesley.
Wesley murmured mildly, “And yet you’re so good at it.” Before drawing a deep breath and then boldly opening the door. “Hello,” he said. “I'm Wesley.”
Anya wiped her eyes again and looked at him. “You’re one of those small annoying children.”
“I'm not quite as small as the other two. And I like to think I'm slightly less annoying.” Wesley indicated the place on the couch next to her. “May I?”
As she unwillingly inclined her head, he carefully cleared some of her boxes out of the way and sat down. “You sent me an orb,” he said. “It was very pretty.”
“It was pretty, wasn’t it?” she returned at once. “And it was free. Which, in a capitalist society is a very unusual occurrence. Which, certainly if taken to excess could have a detrimental effect on free trade but is widely regarded as a useful tool in retail.”
“Absolutely.” Wesley nodded solemnly. “A sound method of demonstrating the quality of your goods and winning goodwill while expanding your existing customer base.”
“Exactly! Why can’t other people see that?”
“Could I have a look at your catalogue?” Wesley asked tentatively.
“Can you read?”
“I'm actually an adult. And in any case I could read quite well by this age the first time around, and in more than one language.”
She handed him the catalogue. “It’s not glossy. I would like it to be glossy but Giles doesn’t yet understand the importance of advertising.”
“So few people do.” Wesley looked through the catalogue with what Angel thought was genuine interest. “You have a special offer on chicken feet this month?”
“We have a page of special offers.” Anya proudly pointed to the page. “And here are the end of stock items we’re selling off.”
“Won’t you be stocking mandrake root any more?” He looked up at her in surprise.
“Yes, we will, but in different quantities and from a different supplier. Those novelty mandrake kegs just aren’t moving as I would like.”
“But they have inscriptions from the Malleus Maleficarum around the rim.” Wesley peered at them closely. “And the silver engraving of a hanged man too - which is historically appropriate. I think they’re very…classy.”
“I chose them. But so few people seem to want to keep their mandrake in a novelty keg these days. And these handblown glass jars to keep one’s dried snakeskin in are made entirely from recycled glass so they’re environmentally friendly as well as useful and decorative.”
“I had no idea the Magic Box had such an extensive stock.”
“We can get you anything at all.” Anya was actually smiling now, Angel was amused to note. “I search on the Internet for the most competitive supplier and can have it sent to you by mail order - usually within 24 hours. The problem with most ordinary necromancers is that they just won’t stock up properly. They think their newt eyes are going to curdle in their brine but in fact newt eyes have a remarkably long shelf life.”
“I didn’t know that about newt eyes. I must remember to stock up, especially as I see you have some on offer. You sell books too.” Wesley definitely did not seem to be faking his interest. “Can you get some of the more obscure titles for people if they need them?”
“For special customers whose motives we know to be pure, yes, certainly.” Anya was positively beaming at Wesley now. “Giles can be a little difficult about putting dangerous magical texts into the hands of ritual sacrificing warlocks - even though all it means is that they put their money into the hands of people who use it for bad reasons instead of giving it to us who battle evil. I’ve tried to talk to him about it several times but he just won’t listen to reason.”
“Well, we Watchers can be a little pernickety. Do you have the orb in here that you sent me? I’d like to get another one. The Council smashed my last one.”
“It’s a new line, not in the catalogue yet.” Anya plucked a cardboard box from the bag at her feet. “But here’s a free replacement. And a copy of the catalogue.”
“Thank you very much. That’s very kind of you. I was thinking I could keep it on the reception desk of the Hyperion and then everyone who comes in could see it.” Wesley explained. “Perhaps if you gave me some of your business cards I could prop them up next to it in a conspicuous fashion?”
“What an excellent head for business you have, small boy.” She patted him on the head a little awkwardly. “Here is a box of our cards and another box of catalogues. Make sure you tell people that we deal over the Internet and can get them most magical ingredients sent to their doors in plain wrappings within twenty four hours.”
“I’ll be sure to do that,” Wesley assured her, carefully collecting up his new orb, catalogues and the box of business cards. “And thank you very much for getting my name right when you sent me that orb. Not very many people do.”
“What a polite little boy you are,” Anya observed fondly. “It seems almost a pity that you have to be changed back into an ordinary human male who will no doubt wreak havoc upon unsuspecting women in the usual callous manner of your sex.”
Wesley had to have a few attempts at answering that as the air had obviously gushed out of his body at the shock of being accused of being a heartless Lothario. “I'm not really known for my havoc wreaking. More my entirely failing to get any kind of action at all er…wreaking.”
Cordelia pushed past Angel to peer into the room. “Wesley has the pick up technique of a British Watcher, Anya. You know, like Giles Mark 2…?”
“Oh.” Anya grimaced at Wesley sympathetically. “I'm sorry.”
“Are we getting a commission on any sales you get through our free advertising of your store?”
Wesley hastily backed out of the room as Cordelia plonked herself down on the couch next to Anya.
“Given that Giles is changing you back into adults entirely free of charge…”
“Well, given that we wouldn’t need changing back if your dangerous free samples hadn’t made us children and we could probably sue… I'm thinking we get a ten percent discount on everything and in exchange we’ll be sure to send as many customers to you as we can. And we know someone who runs a demon karaoke bar…”
Angel patted Wesley on the shoulder as the boy reached him. “Well done. You get a gold star in sucking up. You have some really difficult aunts, don’t you?”
“However did you guess? Aunt Phyllida alone would make your average vengeance demon look like goodwill to humanity personified. Do you think we should stay and keep an eye on the situation?”
“No, I think we should escape quickly while those two haggle themselves to a standstill.”
“You’re expecting bloodshed?” Wesley looked over his shoulder anxiously.
Angel urged him gently away from the hard bargaining going on behind them. “Only if they start comparing notes on Xander…”
Part Twelve
***
Gunn was still high on his morning cereal sugar rush when Anya arrived at the house, and he cannoned into her as she made her way to the kitchen, making her drop her parcels.
“Go away, small clumsy boy,” she told him fiercely, making ‘shoo’ing motions. “Go and play with something. Have you ever, for instance, wondered what happens if you insert an eating implement into an electrical outlet?”
Xander hastily steered her into the kitchen and away from the children, where she was glared at by everyone who had overheard her. “What?” she retorted.
Buffy turned to Xander. “Promise me you and Anya aren’t planning to have children?”
Angel hurried after Gunn to make sure he wasn’t trying out Anya’s suggestion for a fun game and then came back in no better temper with her. “You just sent out mystical objects to random people all over the country?”
“No.” She placed her parcels on the kitchen table. “I sent them out to carefully selected people who I thought would be likely to need a good deal of magical equipment throughout the year and who for some inexplicable reason weren’t buying it from us when they should have been.”
Angel gaped at her. “You expect me to mail order my magical equipment from you every time I have a crisis? When we need something we always need it straight away.”
“It sounds to me as if you’re not planning ahead,” Anya shrugged. “If you kept a stock of the things that you were most likely to need then you wouldn’t need to be rushing around to inferior magical suppliers at short notice. And before you write off the idea I think you should look at our prices, which are very competitive.” She handed Angel a price list.
Angel turned to Xander. “Doesn’t she have any shame?”
“Not so as you’d notice.” Xander put his arm around Anya. “Just one of the things I love about her.”
No one who knew Anya was particularly surprised at her unwillingness to accept any share of the blame for what had transpired with Angel and his associates in the Hyperion. She waved away Angel’s impassioned protests, and Xander’s more tactful protests with the same airy lack of interest.
“You made a silly wish. If you’re in the habit of making silly wishes I really don’t think it matters where you got your wish amulet from. Now, if it had been in the old days when I used to encourage scorned women to make wishes and your friends had been hurt by one of those I would at least pretend to feel sorry about it.”
“They got turned into children at least in part because of you!”
“But, really, their essence wasn’t altered, was it? They’re just shorter and louder people than they were before. They probably consume less food and can fit into considerably more compact spaces as well. You could purchase a smaller car, thereby saving on gasoline consumption and helping the environment.”
“I don’t need associates I can flat pack. We fight demons for a living.”
Anya looked down her nose at him. “I find that speciesist of you. There are some very nice demons in the world.”
“We fight non-nice ones.”
She sniffed. “As I understand it you weren’t a very nice demon yourself so what gives you the right to decide on the niceness or lack of niceness of other demons? Given your hair care decisions I'm suspecting that your judgement can occasionally be faulty.”
Buffy jerked her head at Xander. “Shall we break this up before it gets scary?”
“I'm already scared,” he confessed. “Anya, my sweet. Why don’t you go and show Tara, the eternally tolerant, all the exciting and potentially dangerous things you’ve bought for the Magic Box while I lure Angel away with a nice cup of blood…”
Angel’s only revenge option was to insist that Anya stayed for the reversing ceremony, meaning she had to be in the house with Wesley, Cordelia and Gunn. She was obviously uncomfortable around children, regarding them with the same horror that someone who lived in an all cream apartment might have regarded a muddy spaniel. No one thought it was coincidence that Giles had chosen to be late on the day when Anya had returned home, especially as his record of punctuality - barring mystical transformations - was pretty much unblemished.
“He is such a coward,” Buffy muttered as she once again received no answer from his house. “He’s laying low until Angel and Anya have finished yelling at one another.”
“I kind of wish I’d followed his example,” Willow admitted.
“Thank god for Tara,” Buffy added, thinking of the way the ever-patient witch had allowed Anya to give her the hard sell on her new purchases for an uninterrupted hour of peace for the rest of them.
However, even the new purchases could not keep Anya separated from the children forever. When Cordelia fell over in the yard and scraped her knee and ran crying to the first available adult, Anya visibly blanched. Patting her awkwardly on the head, she said, “There, there, small girl. Why don’t you go and talk to Tara? She likes children even when they have glutinous substances running out of their noses...”
Watching from the kitchen window as Tara hurried out to scoop Cordelia up, Willow said to Xander, “You’re really not going to have children with Anya, are you, Xander? Because you know you’d have to leave her alone with them sometime.”
“She’d be different with her own,” he said, although not with any great conviction.
“How do you know you wouldn’t come home one day to find she’d eaten her young on the grounds that it was more economically cost efficient?”
As they watched Tara lead Cordelia away, Gunn charged up to her a second time, waving a complicated Lego object at her and demanding that she help him put it back together. Bending down she hissed at him fiercely, “Go away, small child, or I’ll be forced to turn into a demon and hex you.”
Gunn looked up at her wide eyed. “Cool! Do it now! Do it now! Wes! The skinny chick says she can do demony things!”
“‘Skinny chick’?” Anya echoed in outrage. “I’ll have you know that my size and weight are considered ideal for my height within the context of the fashions of this area and era.”
Gunn shrugged. “Compared with Cordelia you look kind of flat-chested to me.”
If Anya had been capable of turning back into a demon, Xander was quite certain she would have done so at that point. Hurrying out there to intervene, he heard her hiss: “As I recall, entire mountain ranges would have appeared ‘flat-chested’ when compared to Cordelia.”
“Anya, let the small child go.” Xander pleaded soothingly. She had grabbed Gunn’s arm and showed every inclination of twisting it off.
“It’s a very annoying small child,” she pointed out.
“That’s kind of in the job description for boys below a certain age.” Xander took Gunn’s other arm. “Really not a good idea to dent the rugrats, An. Angel’s a little on the psychotically protective side. And then there’s…”
“What are you doing?”
The shriek of outrage was so loud that it made several neighbourhood dogs begin to bark.
Xander grimaced. “As I was saying… And then there’s Dawn…”
Dawn snatched Gunn away from Anya and up into her arms, eyes blazing with fury. She stabbed an accusing finger at Anya and said, “You’re a bad bad person and I hope Xander comes to his senses in time!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anya retorted.
“Exactly what it sounds like! Dating Cordelia was Xander’s previous all time low but you even have that beat!”
“Ladies, please…” Xander pleaded ineffectually.
With her hands on her hips Anya said, “I think we all know you’re just jealous because you have a silly schoolgirl crush on Xander.”
Clasping Gunn to her protectively, Dawn retorted: “And I think we all know that he’s only going out with you because you have good sex with him!”
Buffy arrived in the kitchen at that point and exchanged a glance with Willow. “This could get ugly.”
“Yes, someone really ought to break that up.” Willow plucked a chocolate from the box on the side and pushed it to Buffy. “Or we could just stand here and watch.”
“It’s Xander I feel sorry for.”
“Xander needs to get over his really bad taste in girlfriends.”
“I heard that!”
They turned around to find Cordelia and Tara in the doorway. Tara winced at them apologetically.
“Oh, I didn’t mean you, Cordy!” Willow said breathlessly.
“Yes, you did!”
“No, no, I really didn’t. Look - chocolate.”
The scowl on Cordelia’s face vanished to be replaced by one of cautious interest. “Is it good chocolate?”
“Godiva,” Buffy assured her. “Here. Have lots.”
Cordelia carefully selected one for her, one for Wesley, and one for Gunn, then put them back and took the box. “I think I will.”
Buffy and Willow sadly watched the chocolates leave. “I'm starting to go off having kids around,” Buffy observed.
Tara looked at Willow sideways. “Maybe not the best time to talk about the adoption plan I had last night then?”
Buffy glanced out of the window again where Dawn was still telling Anya what she thought of her. “Wow, my sister really doesn’t need to breathe like ordinary human beings, does she?”
“Do you think we should do something?” Tara asked tentatively.
As they were thinking it, Cordelia marched decisively to the back door and shouted, “Gunn! Chocolate! And Wesley is ageing in there waiting for you to watch the Disney cartoon with him. He’d like to see it before he has to start studying for his SATs.”
Gunn immediately wriggled down from Dawn’s arms, took her hand firmly in his and began to tug her rapidly in the direction of the chocolates. “Come on, Dawnie. Play with the not scary flat-chested demon lady later. We need to watch Fantasia with Wesley. Does it have any explosions?”
Distracted from her argument with Anya, Dawn gazed down into big brown eyes in a face of impossible cuteness and entirely lost the thread of her latest insult. “It has dancing hippos.”
“Cool. What about car chases?”
“Not so many of those really. But there are dinosaurs. And flying horses.”
“Does it have any sword fights?”
“It has Mickey Mouse…”
As they reached the door, Cordelia held out the chocolate box and Dawn’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Godiva chocolates. Buffy never lets me have those. She says they’re wasted on the young.”
“That’s so ageist.” Cordelia firmly took Dawn’s other hand in hers and led her away from the garden and back to the cartoon.
“Cordelia, the Peacemaker.” Buffy shook her head, already wanting another chocolate and wishing she’d had the sense to grab one before Cordelia took the box. “Who would have thunked it?”
“Don’t use bad grammar in front of my kids.” Angel wandered into the kitchen. Seeing Anya outside gesticulating frantically at Xander and stamping her foot, he frowned. “Did I miss anything?”
“Nothing,” Willow said hastily. “Definitely not any threats of bodily harm to Gunn in particular.”
Buffy said gently, “Willow - if you’re thinking of a life in the secret service as a double agent - probably time to rethink it.”
“Where are my kids?” Angel looked around anxiously.
“Watching Fantasia with Dawn.” Tara pointed to the living room. “See.”
Buffy cupped a hand to her ear. “Yes, hear that? It’s the happy sound of children squabbling over who gets the soft centres.”
Angel went to the door to check. “Gunn, don’t get chocolate on the cushions. Cordy, don’t hit Wesley with the cushions before or after Gunn gets chocolate on them. Dawn, stop spoiling Gunn. Wesley, don’t let Cordy bully you just because she’s a girl.”
“Why not?” Wesley called back faintly. “I let her bully me just because she’s a girl when we’re normal sized.”
Angel acknowledged the point with a shrug. “True. Cordy, stop bullying Wesley.”
“It’s character building for him,” she called back.
“Well, build his character with less pinching and hair pulling. Gunn, what did I just say about the cushions…?”
Buffy raised an eyebrow as she looked at Tara and Willow. “We need to remember these moments when we’re thinking about how cute they looked in their jammies.”
“Oh…” Willow’s face fell. “If Giles does the spell today that means we won’t get to see another bath time or read them any more stories. And we won’t get to see Gunn sucking his thumb or wearing those cute little P.J.s with the little tiny Piglets and Tiggers on them.”
“Unless he does that when he’s an adult, which seems unlikely.” Buffy sighed. “You know, if we’re going to face the hideous prospect of a kid-free future, I think we need to buy more chocolate.”
“Definitely.” Willow nodded. “Given the level of trauma we’re currently suffering, I think we’d be justified in going to that place with the really expensive imported chocolate and oh yes, as Giles will be traumatized too, we should buy him donuts.”
“The jelly ones.” Buffy reached for her purse. “We should get on that.”
“And the fact that it gets us out of the house while Anya is in a really bad mood…?” Tara murmured.
Buffy looked as innocent as she was capable of looking. “Just a happy bonus.”
***
Angel heard the sound of crying first. It was a soft, plaintive sob but his hearing was acute, while even Wesley heard the sniffing that followed it. They looked at one another and grimaced and then Angel tentatively eased open the door to the sitting room a fraction and looked inside.
Anya was sitting on the couch, surrounded by her new magical purchases, crying quietly, and wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
“I refuse to feel guilty,” Angel whispered fiercely to Wesley.
Wesley murmured mildly, “And yet you’re so good at it.” Before drawing a deep breath and then boldly opening the door. “Hello,” he said. “I'm Wesley.”
Anya wiped her eyes again and looked at him. “You’re one of those small annoying children.”
“I'm not quite as small as the other two. And I like to think I'm slightly less annoying.” Wesley indicated the place on the couch next to her. “May I?”
As she unwillingly inclined her head, he carefully cleared some of her boxes out of the way and sat down. “You sent me an orb,” he said. “It was very pretty.”
“It was pretty, wasn’t it?” she returned at once. “And it was free. Which, in a capitalist society is a very unusual occurrence. Which, certainly if taken to excess could have a detrimental effect on free trade but is widely regarded as a useful tool in retail.”
“Absolutely.” Wesley nodded solemnly. “A sound method of demonstrating the quality of your goods and winning goodwill while expanding your existing customer base.”
“Exactly! Why can’t other people see that?”
“Could I have a look at your catalogue?” Wesley asked tentatively.
“Can you read?”
“I'm actually an adult. And in any case I could read quite well by this age the first time around, and in more than one language.”
She handed him the catalogue. “It’s not glossy. I would like it to be glossy but Giles doesn’t yet understand the importance of advertising.”
“So few people do.” Wesley looked through the catalogue with what Angel thought was genuine interest. “You have a special offer on chicken feet this month?”
“We have a page of special offers.” Anya proudly pointed to the page. “And here are the end of stock items we’re selling off.”
“Won’t you be stocking mandrake root any more?” He looked up at her in surprise.
“Yes, we will, but in different quantities and from a different supplier. Those novelty mandrake kegs just aren’t moving as I would like.”
“But they have inscriptions from the Malleus Maleficarum around the rim.” Wesley peered at them closely. “And the silver engraving of a hanged man too - which is historically appropriate. I think they’re very…classy.”
“I chose them. But so few people seem to want to keep their mandrake in a novelty keg these days. And these handblown glass jars to keep one’s dried snakeskin in are made entirely from recycled glass so they’re environmentally friendly as well as useful and decorative.”
“I had no idea the Magic Box had such an extensive stock.”
“We can get you anything at all.” Anya was actually smiling now, Angel was amused to note. “I search on the Internet for the most competitive supplier and can have it sent to you by mail order - usually within 24 hours. The problem with most ordinary necromancers is that they just won’t stock up properly. They think their newt eyes are going to curdle in their brine but in fact newt eyes have a remarkably long shelf life.”
“I didn’t know that about newt eyes. I must remember to stock up, especially as I see you have some on offer. You sell books too.” Wesley definitely did not seem to be faking his interest. “Can you get some of the more obscure titles for people if they need them?”
“For special customers whose motives we know to be pure, yes, certainly.” Anya was positively beaming at Wesley now. “Giles can be a little difficult about putting dangerous magical texts into the hands of ritual sacrificing warlocks - even though all it means is that they put their money into the hands of people who use it for bad reasons instead of giving it to us who battle evil. I’ve tried to talk to him about it several times but he just won’t listen to reason.”
“Well, we Watchers can be a little pernickety. Do you have the orb in here that you sent me? I’d like to get another one. The Council smashed my last one.”
“It’s a new line, not in the catalogue yet.” Anya plucked a cardboard box from the bag at her feet. “But here’s a free replacement. And a copy of the catalogue.”
“Thank you very much. That’s very kind of you. I was thinking I could keep it on the reception desk of the Hyperion and then everyone who comes in could see it.” Wesley explained. “Perhaps if you gave me some of your business cards I could prop them up next to it in a conspicuous fashion?”
“What an excellent head for business you have, small boy.” She patted him on the head a little awkwardly. “Here is a box of our cards and another box of catalogues. Make sure you tell people that we deal over the Internet and can get them most magical ingredients sent to their doors in plain wrappings within twenty four hours.”
“I’ll be sure to do that,” Wesley assured her, carefully collecting up his new orb, catalogues and the box of business cards. “And thank you very much for getting my name right when you sent me that orb. Not very many people do.”
“What a polite little boy you are,” Anya observed fondly. “It seems almost a pity that you have to be changed back into an ordinary human male who will no doubt wreak havoc upon unsuspecting women in the usual callous manner of your sex.”
Wesley had to have a few attempts at answering that as the air had obviously gushed out of his body at the shock of being accused of being a heartless Lothario. “I'm not really known for my havoc wreaking. More my entirely failing to get any kind of action at all er…wreaking.”
Cordelia pushed past Angel to peer into the room. “Wesley has the pick up technique of a British Watcher, Anya. You know, like Giles Mark 2…?”
“Oh.” Anya grimaced at Wesley sympathetically. “I'm sorry.”
“Are we getting a commission on any sales you get through our free advertising of your store?”
Wesley hastily backed out of the room as Cordelia plonked herself down on the couch next to Anya.
“Given that Giles is changing you back into adults entirely free of charge…”
“Well, given that we wouldn’t need changing back if your dangerous free samples hadn’t made us children and we could probably sue… I'm thinking we get a ten percent discount on everything and in exchange we’ll be sure to send as many customers to you as we can. And we know someone who runs a demon karaoke bar…”
Angel patted Wesley on the shoulder as the boy reached him. “Well done. You get a gold star in sucking up. You have some really difficult aunts, don’t you?”
“However did you guess? Aunt Phyllida alone would make your average vengeance demon look like goodwill to humanity personified. Do you think we should stay and keep an eye on the situation?”
“No, I think we should escape quickly while those two haggle themselves to a standstill.”
“You’re expecting bloodshed?” Wesley looked over his shoulder anxiously.
Angel urged him gently away from the hard bargaining going on behind them. “Only if they start comparing notes on Xander…”
Part Twelve
***