Sadder and Wiser Girls

Anya broke a heel while she was getting ready. She hopped around on one foot at first, then walked with a peg leg gait, and finally kicked both shoes off. She was in a bad mood now because they were good shoes, new and perfect with her outfit. It was a bad start to an evening she wasn't looking forward to.

She went down to the hotel lobby and got into one of the cabs waiting outside. The rental car could stay where it was. She didn't feel her driving skills were sharp enough yet to get around in a strange town, at night, when a rainstorm was on its way. And she was planning to have a few drinks. She was beginning to wish she'd had one before she left.

She gave the cab driver the address. They drove in silence for a few minutes, then he caught her eye in the rear view mirror and spoke to her. "Big party, huh? So how come you're not dressed for it?"

Anya looked down at her black dress with its splash of silvery sparkles. Wasn't she appropriately dressed? Was it so bad that strangers had to comment on it?

"I mean, that address is a big old warehouse, I figured it's a big to-do. But you got no Halloween costume on."

"Oh, oh," said Anya, "no, I 'm in charge of the catering, sort of. And it's not really that kind of party. I mean, some of them could be wearing costumes, but it might be hard to tell."

"Yeah? Well, if anybody asks, you could tell'em you're dressed as a working girl, you know, 'cause of the catering. Or maybe, that don't sound right, working girl. You could have got one of them antenna sets you put on your head, then you could have been a 'worker bee.''' The driver started to laugh.

Anya sat back farther in the seat, smiled, and hoped this wasn't going to be a long drive.

The driver chatted all the way to the address Anya had given him. He talked mostly about Cleveland, how he dreaded the coming winter, how hard it was to make a living driving a cab then. "You know, people can't drive their own cars in the snow and sleet and somehow they expect cabs to get through. Like we're magic or something'." That gave Anya an opening to talk about her business, the line of magic shops she'd opened. One here, right in Cleveland. It was always a good idea to have cab drivers know about you.

They arrived and Anya paid him, giving him her store's card and a good tip. That last part always pained her, but it was good business. "Have fun," he said, in a last burst of affability, "don't do nothing I wouldn't do." The taxi sped off.

Having fun was going to have very little to do with it. Anya headed toward the building in front of her. The windows were all lit, and she could hear faint music that grew louder as she approached. She rang the bell beside the heavy metal door, and it slid open. The demon who manned the door was about three times her size but very politely took her name and checked his clipboard. He ushered her in with a small bow. One of his tentacles was pointed straight out. Anya's eyes followed it and saw a room marked 'coats".

Putting her claim check in her purse, she sized up the big party room and the crowd that filled it. The best thing would be for her to find her host and see how things were going. Then it would be about networking. She meant for her magic shops to be "the go-to place" for supplies, and demon connections were the key.

She spotted D'Hoffryn on a staircase across the room and made her way over. He smiled benignly at her as she approached. "Anyanka, it's lovely to see you. Everything's going well. I think we'll pull it off. Give the demon world something to talk about. Everybody's going on and on about the food."

Anya gave him her best smile. She fought the inclination to go all 'minion-master' when she talked to D'Hoffryn. They were two equals now, and she had just helped him out. "I'm glad I could help. I learned a lot about demon tastes in setting up my almost-wedding. Pulling together resources in a strange city wasn't easy, but I'm always glad to do you a favor. I'm going to check on the caterers and then do a little mingling. It looks like a very pleasant party."

"Well, I couldn't have done without you. Please enjoy yourself. And when you get a chance, sometime next week, chant me up and we'll talk about getting you some of the griffin hair you need for your shops. I know somebody."

This is what that phrase about mutual back-scratching was all about. She gave him an extra voltage smile and said, "All righty," and with a little wave walked off.

She did a quick tour of the kitchen and talked to the caterer, a Skilosh who must have found having eyes in the back of its head very handy. Then Anya went out to check the food tables. Everything looked lovely, and she congratulated herself on her organizational skills.

She headed over to the bar. Luckily, some of the demon party-goers had a taste for human liquor; champagne and whiskey were available as well as blood and swampy, sewery things. Anya decided to be careful and limit herself to one glass of champagne. Being a human in room full of liquored-up demons could suddenly turn chancy, even if she were under the protection of the Vengeance Demon host and business partners with some of them. Best to keep her wits about her.

She'd gotten her drink and was surveying the crowd, thinking where to start her, what do they call it, ... gladhanding, when she saw an old friend heading toward her, or rather, the bar.

"Spike!" she called.

He turned toward her, and then she saw the old smile, sexy and slightly predatory. "Anya! Long time no see. Didn't expect to see you in the great American Midwest." He grabbed her in a quick hug; he smelled as good as she remembered. And like it wasn't his first trip to the bar.

"Well, I've got one of my Magic Box stores here. And I gave D'Hoffryn a hand in organizing this. Since you and Angel completely demoralized Wolfram & Hart, there hasn't been a really good Halloween party. And the Hellmouth seems to be the place to have it. Confidentially," she leaned into whisper, "I think D'Hoffryn always felt a little second class to the demon power structure. I mean, vengeance is such a reactive thing, you know. Something has to happen first, then vengeance is called for. It's not like he plots evil." Then, in a normal tone, said, "What are you doing here?"

"The party or Cleveland?" By this time, they'd reached the bar, and Spike gave the bartender an order for a bourbon and a glass of water.

"Either."

"You know, Hellmouth. All souled, doing good now. Here, you know Illyria?" He gestured to the woman standing next to him, as he handed her the glass of water. "She's an ex-god. You two have something in common. Pulled out of your dimension, put in this one. You should swap stories. Illyria, this is Anya. Know her from Sunnydale."

Illyria was dressed similar to Anya, herself. A simple black dress. She also wore a large, deep turquoise bracelet, the blue echoing her hair color.

The two women eyed each other.

"Are you having a hard time adjusting?" Anya asked.

"I do not adjust. This world should adjust to me."

Anya looked at Spike, who shrugged.

"Are you two a couple?" Anya glanced between them.

"I permit Spike to assist me in understanding this world. He has lived so long in it that he understands it, and can explain some of its follies."

"We knock around some," said Spike. "I thought I'd bring a date; show I'm not a vampire looking to start trouble. Just here for the music and booze."

"I came stag," said Anya. "Not that I couldn't get a date. I have many men, and some women, anxious to date me. That's not a problem for me."

"Stands to reason. Very attractive bird, you are."

Illyria looked puzzled. "You came with a four-footed beast? That is not usual for a human."

"What?" Anya, in turn, was puzzled. "Oh, no. It means I came without an escort. I used to take humans literally, too. They say all kinds of things they don't really mean. It's like a puzzle. It takes time to figure out."

"You mean, they lie and are deceitful?"

"That too, but I was talking about the expressions they use. Sometimes they don't even understand each other. Like Giles, he was from a different country and said things that nobody understood."

"Giles?"

Spike interrupted, "Ladies, this is cutting into drinking time. FREE drinking."

Anya nodded, "Right, I have people to see tonight, too. Contacts to make. Here's my card, Spike. 'The Magic Box can supply all your magic needs,' that's our motto. See, it's written there." She gestured at the card Spike was holding.

"I don't dabble in it much, but I'll pass the word along." Spike pocketed the card, then began steering Illyria back to the bar. "Maybe we'll have a sit-down and chat later."

"That would be good," Anya said and headed off to work the room.

For a couple of hours, Anya spoke to a great many party-goers. She kept it low-key. She'd paid good money for a Dale Carnegie course on how to do this. Back when she only had two stores and went to the bank for a loan to set up more, somebody there suggested she might find it useful. "A little polishing," they said. She found the techniques worked on demons as well as they did on humans.

So she chatted and swapped stories. She visited several of the special entertainment rooms D'Hoffryn set up. She even danced to a couple of swing tunes with a bouncy Brachen.

After two hours or so, she was exhausted. She'd nursed her one glass of champagne throughout the night, even after it'd gone flat. Time to get a fresh one, find a quiet corner, and relax a while before heading back to the hotel.

With her new drink, she worked her way through the room and up to a balcony, to a spot she noticed earlier, a couch and chair tucked in a dimly lit corner. As she got closer, she saw someone else had the same idea. Illyria.

She sat on the couch, still and watchful. Anya plopped herself on the chair. "Have you lost Spike?" she said.

"He is sitting in a room watching a screen depicting a sporting event. Men in short pants are chasing a ball across a field. He was so engrossed, and everyone was shouting; I decided to wait here until he's done."

"Yes, I saw that room. D'Hoffryn's really gone all out. There were several others; I was in the séance room for a while. There was a demon who could channel any ghost you wanted, and you got to ask three questions. I summoned Ray Kroc. He started MacDonald's. I asked about franchising. It was very informative. I was a little in awe of him."

"Spike brings food from there; the smell sickens me."

"Well, yes. I stick to the salads, myself," said Anya.

The two were silent for several minutes.

Anya was sipping from her glass. Illyria watched her and said, "That is poison."

"If you're going to be around humans much, you'll find you'll need it. Are you?"

"What?"

"Going to be around. No chance of going back?"

"My world is dead. My powers are diminished. Once time was a toy to me, and all creation was my underling; now I am bound to this place and this time. I must learn the ways of the mortals that infect this place."

"I know, it can be a big let down. I was a Vengeance Demon for centuries. Bringing solace to wronged women. Didn't need to think about where my next meal was coming from."

"How pitiful are a race that need to call on others for their vengeance! We crushed our enemies; our dogs gnawed on their bones."

"I know, and now it's all different. But at least you have Spike to help you. I was pretty much on my own at first."

"Spike is adequate, but Wesley was more able to sense the unasked question and answer it."

Anya nodded, "The LA thing. I heard about it. Wesley didn't make it. I knew him, you know. Back in Sunnydale. Goodness, he was a dork." She glanced at Illyria. "A very clumsy person."

"I found him very learned. And courageous. But he was sad. I did not comprehend this at first. He was missing the shell I had taken. When I offered to assume her shape, he rejected it with anger. When he died, I understood. Seeing someone like him would not be him. I would not want it." She shook herself lightly, shifting her body, as though she were unused to sitting for so long. "That is the hardship of this place, of being like these creatures. The attachment that grows. The loss of my kingdom was easier dealt with than the loss of Wesley. But he had no heart left for this life."

Anya nodded, "I know. When I first came here, I tried to avoid getting involved. But you get lonely. So I picked out a boy and thought I could just use him occasionally, you know, for sex and for going to a movie. But you find you like the way their eyes light up when they see you. How they make you laugh. Then it gets more complicated." She sighed. "They don't even have to die for you to know you lost them. It can be very disturbing."

She continued in a lighter tone, "So, you're a shape shifter?"

"I can alter my outward appearance. It can be convenient for going among the humans. And sometimes, when Spike is very drunk, he asks me to become a short, blonde woman he once knew. It pleases him, and I do it because, as you said, one grows attached to the creatures one spends time with. He is always cross afterwards. Does that sound logical to you?"

Anya sighed again. "It's a long story." She looked at Illyria, speculatively. "The shape shifting thing. Does that include clothes? I mean, did you just conjure up that dress?"

"Is it not suitable? Spike and I consulted a magazine. He said it would do."

"It's very nice," Anya was quick to reassure her. "I just wondered if you ever went shopping."

"To buy garments? No."

"No. I'm sure Spike has you just killing demons and watching television. You have to get out more. I really didn't find my place in this dimension until I got the job in the Magic Box. And after Sunnyvale collapsed, I was at loose ends. Giles said, 'Go with your strengths, Anya.' So now, I have a definite business presence. --I have an idea. We could go shopping tomorrow, at the mall. You have to get out more."

Illyria frowned. "It's true I haven't gone on purchasing expeditions, but I have no need to. I can look any way I chose."

Anya's skin had taken on a slight flush, and she leaned forward. "But shopping isn't just about buying things you need; it's about seeing things and touching things. It can be quite sensual. And if you're staying among the humans, it's a great way to watch what they do without drawing attention to yourself."

"You and I would go?" asked Illyria.

"Yes, I have a few more days in town. I'll ask around about the biggest mall nearby. Here, I'll give my card with my cell phone number. Call me tomorrow morning. We'll talk about how you should alter your appearance. You know, what you're wearing. And I can pick you up."

"This would be a lengthy expedition?"

"Well, a couple of hours, and then we have lunch and talk. That's how it's done."

"It's true Spike will be sleeping probably long past sunset, tomorrow. He will not be in any condition for us to patrol, anyway. Shopping will add to my experiences. Very well. I will call you."

"Make it around ten." Anya felt a rush of emotion. She had been where Illyria was. Trapped in a new world with little in the way of guidance. Now she was the one who could show the newcomer the ins and outs. She hadn't realized how far she'd come until she started mentally listing the things that Illyria needed to know.

Anya stood. "I've got to call a cab, say goodbye to my host and go back to the hotel. Don't forget, tomorrow, girls' day out. You'll like it."

Illyria watched her retreat. Then she stood. Spike had watched enough of the sports program. They must return to their habitation so that she would be fresh for her new adventure in the morning.

The End