Enemy Incognito

By Wynn

Chapter Eight: Coffee, Cookies, and Conversation

The Espresso Pump was crowded with the citizens of Sunnydale enjoying the sunny morning. Xander sat at a corner table in the coffee shop's veranda. He glanced at his watch and took another gulp of coffee. He had called and left a message on Anya's answering machine a few days ago to suggest a meeting time for coffee, but she hadn't returned his call, and she hadn't been to the Magic Box since Willow's return. He had asked Giles if he knew of Anya's whereabouts, but all the Watcher had said was that he hadn't seen her. So now Xander sat amid the swarm of coffee, mocha, and cappuccino drinkers hoping that his ex-fiancée would appear. So that he could explain why he had acted the way he had. So that he could try make things right.

"Hi."

Xander started at the sound of Anya's voice. She sat down across from him, fruit smoothie grasped between her hands. A nervous grimace crossed her face. "I wasn't sure that you would come. You, uh, haven't been around, so I- I left a message."

"I said I would have coffee with you, Xander. I don't back out of promises."

Xander clenched his jaw. "Ok, I deserved that. But how long are you going to keep throwing it back in my face?" He set his coffee on the table and looked into Anya's eyes. "I made a mistake. I should've stayed and explained what I was feeling, but I didn't and I can't go back and undo what I did."

Anya sighed and slumped against the back of her chair. "I know. I'm sorry. This is a very difficult and confusing situation. I don't want to be nice to you, but you keep being nice to me and then I feel guilty for being mean."

A crooked smile appeared on his face. "I deserve the mean stuff." The grin faded. "You haven't done anything to feel guilty for. Not even… not even for…"

"For sleeping with Spike?"

Xander tightened his grasp on his styrofoam coffee cup, crushing it, spilling coffee over the table. Grabbing napkins, he wiped the dark liquid off the table top and threw the soaked bundle and crumpled cup in the trash. He returned to the table and sat down, face stony. After a few minutes of silence, he sucked in a deep breath and rubbed his hands over his face. "Do you have to be so blunt about what you did with… with… him?"

Anya folded her arms across her chest. "Yes. Spike and I were drunk, and we were hurt, so we slept together. And if you and I are going to have any sort of a relationship, you need to accept what happened because I can't change what I did."

"So I'm supposed to just accept that he touched you and kissed you? That you kissed him back? That you were compassionate towards him?" He stared at Anya, hatred and anger glinting beneath the surface of his brown eyes. "He doesn't deserve to touch you, and he sure as hell doesn't deserve your compassion."

"Why?"

"Because you're better than him."

Anya straightened her back and tilted her chin in the air. Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly. "I'm better than him. Why? Because he's a soulless demon? Because he's killed hundreds, thousands of people without feeling any remorse? Because he tried to kill you and Willow and Buffy?"

"Yes."

She leaned across the table, golden eyes flashing with fury. "Reality check, Xander. I am a 'soulless' demon who has killed hundreds of thousands in the name of vengeance. I killed you and Willow and Buffy and practically everyone else in Sunnydale when I manipulated Cordelia into making a wish against you." She sat back against the chair. Her entire body trembled. "So tell me how am I better than Spike? Is it because you love me? Does being loved by a human make you better? If that's correct, then I really am no better than Spike."

"What? What are you talking about?"

Anya shook her head. She looked at Xander, her eyes heavy with sadness. "You love me, Xander, but you hate what I am."

"No, I don't. You weren't always a demon. You could-"

"Could what? Change back to human form? Would that make everything Ok? Please, Xander, tell me how would it make everything Ok? Would I be nicer as a human? Would you love me more if I weren't a demon?" She lowered her voice until it was barely above a whisper. "I was a human for twenty three years, Xander. I was a demon for eleven hundred. You wouldn't be able to comprehend the things I've witnessed over the past millennia. The things I've done. I can't ignore the demon part of me, I can't flip it off like a light switch, and it wouldn't just disappear if I became a human again."

She watched Xander try to comprehend all she had said. Her eyes filled with tears as she pushed her chair back and stood. "I'm sorry this is difficult for you… I have to get to the shop now. Goodbye." Anya turned and walked away from the table and the coffee shop onto the busy Main Street of Sunnydale.

***

Dawn pushed through the door to the Magic Box, holding it open for Buffy who was engrossed in the classified ads of the Sunnydale News & Observer. The scent of fresh paint drifted throughout the store; the walls were painted a soft eggshell. All of the dust and debris had been vacuumed off the floor, the windows had been cleaned, and new lights installed. The absolute destruction that had been the Magic Box was replaced with a bright, airy shop. The Summers sisters walked over to the small metal table that had been placed in the middle of the empty store. Dawn slung her canvas bag on the metal surface and perched on one of the stools circling the table; she rolled her eyes as Buffy plopped onto the floor, gnawing on the end of a red pen, hazel eyes intent upon the folded newspaper. "Found anything yet?"

Buffy shook her head and sighed. She took the pen out of her mouth and twirled it in her hand as she said, "No. So far every job hiring is either a fast food place or a funeral home. I'll find something soon."

Pulling out a bag of cookies, Dawn said, "I still don't see why you don't get paid by the Watcher's Council. Giles does, and he's not even the Slayer. You are. You do all the work."

Buffy looked at her sister. "I don't do all the work. Even if the Council of Stuffed Shirts was offering a steady paycheck, I'd still pass. I don't want those people in charge of our financial future." She returned to the newspaper. Flipping a page, she scanned down the columns of available jobs; her gaze stopped on a small ad at the bottom of the page. She brought the paper over to the metal table and placed it before Dawn. "This sounds decent."

The ad was for a local martial arts dojo that was looking for a new self-defense instructor. Dawn smiled. The training sessions between her and Buffy had improved immensely since the first; the sisters had relaxed into their respective roles of teacher and student and now enjoyed their time together. Much to Dawn's surprise, Buffy had come a long way from the drill instructor of the first lesson, becoming an excellent teacher. This job would be perfect for her. "Sounds good. How much does it pay?"

Buffy rolled her eyes at Dawn as she grabbed a cookie and sat on one of the stools. Examining the ad, she said, "It certainly pays more than the Doublemeat Dungeon did. And no weird grease smell anymore. A definite improvement. I'll stop by tomorrow, fill out an application."

The door to the training room opened and Giles entered the shop. He pulled the door closed and smiled at Buffy and Dawn as he crossed the length of the bare store. Noticing the red ink stained newspaper, he said to Buffy, "Have you found anything yet?"

"You mean anything that doesn't involve fried meat or formaldehyde? Possibly." Buffy looked from Giles to Dawn. "I need to talk to Giles. Alone. Will you be alright here?"

Dawn sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mother Hen. I will be fine."

"Sorry, sorry. Old habits die hard, especially when they concern your little sister." Sliding off the stool, Buffy led Giles towards the training room. She reached for the handle, but Giles stepped between her and the training room door. She stepped back a little and looked at her Watcher quizzically.

"Willow is back there," Giles explained. He moved away from the door to the corner of the shop. "We were working on a meditation exercise when you and Dawn came in."

"Oh." Buffy glanced at the closed door that enclosed her friend in solitude. "How- how is she? We- I haven't seen her much since she came back."

Giles removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She's, ah, improving. She's recovered some emotional stability. The meditation exercises have been helping. She's almost ready to be taken to the coven."

"Have you spoken to her about it?"

"A little. She seems to realize that there is to be some sort of repercussions for her abuses of magic, although I don't know if she understands that her abilities are to be binded. I believe she thinks that the coven is going to teach her how to better handle her abilities."

Buffy glanced at the door. "Do you want me to be with you when you tell her what's really going to happen?"

Giles shook his head as he replaced his glasses. "No. Thank you though. I'll be fine. Is there something specific you needed to speak to me about?"

"Yeah. I think someone is looking to take control of the Hellmouth. I don't know who, or what, wants to be the new crown Prince of Darkness, but I'm pretty sure that there's a new evil brewing."

Giles' brows drew together as he pondered Buffy's admission. "How-"

"I had a Slayer dream. A voice, a very not-so-nice voice, said 'Within a month, the Hellmouth will be ours.'"

Giles nodded. "Everyone should best be on their guard. Especially you. Do you need any assistance on patrolling? An extra set of eyes and ears?"

"Maybe, but it wouldn't be because of that. There's this second thing I need to talk to you about." Buffy paused and drew in a breath, mentally preparing herself to tell Giles her intuition. If she were right, another explosive variable was about to be thrown into the shaky, delicate environment that was the Scooby Gang. Exhaling softly, she said, "I think Faith may be out of prison."

"What?"

"Well, she might not be out yet. She might be getting out soon. She had a cameo in the same Slayer dream as the wannabe rulers of the Hellmouth."

Giles rubbed a hand over his brow. "I haven't heard anything about her release from the Watcher's Council. Although they wouldn't know anything anyway."

"She could have pulled the Great Escape. Had enough of rehabilitation, decided to use her Slayer strength to break out of prison."

"Possibly. I'll call-"

"Buffy!" A crash of metal hitting wood resounded through the store. Dawn's scream sent Buffy and Giles running from the corner to the front of the shop where they found one stool on its side and crumbled cookies spread across the floor. Dawn stood behind the table; her eyes wide with shock and panic were glued to the entrance of the Magic Box.

Faith stepped from the brilliant light of day into the creamy, cool interior of the shop. She was dressed in her usual black on black, eyes lined heavily in kohl and midnight eye shadow. A few pieces of paper were in her left hand; a small duffel bag was clutched in her right.

"B."

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