Chapter 5 - Have a Little Faith: Chapter 5--by Volpone

                                        Have a Little Faith

                                             Chapter 6
                                            by Volpone

          The satyr was extremely happy overall. He had made several friends, though he couldn't talk to
any of them. He had mated with three very good women, he had learned of a new type of very chewy
fruit, and of the sweet rings of bread, and his spirit-energy was higher than he could remember in a
very long time. The last woman had been so vital... he had never known another like her... well,
possibly that handmaiden of Aphrodite, but that was so long ago it was hard to compare. There must
be something special about her.
          Not really caring where they went, he was content to simply follow this new friend.
Xander got their wooly visitor to the shop without further mishap, where Giles was ready and
waiting when they arrived.
          "Did you see any sign of Buffy?"
          "Nah. Found him over in the park. She's probably still searching over at the cemetery with
Angel."
          "It may be just as well that they aren't here."
          As they spoke briefly, Giles looked at the satyr and noticed that he seemed to be fidgeting a
great deal.
          "I admit that I'm not an expert on the subject, but... is there anything wrong with him? He
seems a bit... agitated."
          Smiling a bit nervously, Xander said, "Oh. Probably just a sugar rush."
          "Sugar rush?"
          "Yeah. You see, I had to coax him into coming along with me, and the only food I had was
some old Gummi Bears, and then when Principal Snyder caught us..."
          Giles interrupted. "Excuse me? Principal Sn... the principal for the school... he caught..."
          "It's okay. See, we got attacked by the group of cheerleaders..."
          The ex-watcher paled visibly. "Cheerleaders? No... never mind. You obviously got away. Just
explain about the sugar."
          "Well, after he ate the Gummis, Snyder had these glazed donuts, and..."
          "I think I get the picture. This creature, which is used to living on fruit and nuts and foliage...
you fed him an excessive amount of processed sugar, empty carbohydrates and preservatives. Well, I
must admit that would likely be a just cause for agitation."
          Oz and Willow were sitting outside the shop. Even with her nostrils packed to avoid the satyr's
spell, Willow was outside because Giles insisted, even though she had assured him that she could help.
(Actually, she was more than a little curious, and Giles was more than a little embarrassed.) Oz was
outside because of the wolfsbane the ritual required. Xander joined them.
          "So, you captured hib all by yourself. That's cool. Isn't that cool, Oz? I think that's cool." She
leaned out a little in what she thought was a casual manner to see if she could sneak another peek at the
satyr... or part of him.
          Oz nodded agreement. "I'd say aspiring to coolness."
          Xander launched into a brief and reasonably accurate account of what happened.
          When he got to the part about Snyder, Willow interrupted to ask, "You bean they were attacking
Principal Snyder, too? In an un-principal-like banner? As in, they wanted to...? That's just creepy."
          There was a thoughtful look on Oz's face, and he excused himself.
          Xander and Willow continued to talk for a few moments when they heard an exclamation from
Giles inside.
          "Excuse me, Oz, but what do you think you are doing? Leave him alone, and go outside. I'm
about to begin."
          Then Oz returned, removing a cloth which he had tied over the bottom half of his face to act as
a makeshift breathing mask. When Willow looked at him curiously, he explained, "Needed something
from in the shop."
          As Xander reached the "good part" of the story, he realized that he was speaking in front of a
female of the opposite sex.
          Willow looked expectant, not saying anything for fear Xander would notice her being there. It
didn't work. His narrative suddenly ran out of steam.
          Willow realized that both of them were looking at her.
          Taking the hint ungracefully, she stood.
          "Giles doesn't want be inside. You guys wod't talk in front of be. How's a girl supposed to
leard anythi'g if dobody let's her stick arou'd?" She was still carrying on her monolog as she walked
over to the van.
          As soon as she was out of ear-shot, Xander turned to Oz excitedly.
          "Man, you're not going to believe it. The girls from the theater? College... cheerleaders."
          Oz gave him a doubtful look. "No way."
          Xander raised a hand and faked something that might pass for a Boy Scout salute if he were
from Jupiter or someplace equally remote.
          "Very way."
          Oz looked pensive.
          "College cheerleaders."
          Xander nodded.
          "Was the red-head with the great... personality with them?"
          It was the closest Xander had ever seen Oz come to being "a guy".
          "Oh, yeah. When we were barricaded in the old store, she reached through a hole in the
window... and grabbed Mr. Happy."
          "Now I know you're lying."
          "I swear, man. I swear that I'm telling the truth."
          "So, what happened then." Oz didn't sound prurient. He sounded more like he was being there
for another guy.
          Xander's face fell.
          "Nothing. The walking carpet in there and I skipped out the back and Snide-man stayed
behind."
          Oz nodded.
          "Now, I believe you."
          Xander smiled off into the distance, a sad look in his eyes.
          "I was so close. It was like a dream."
          Oz clapped him on the shoulder.
          "I feel for you, man. You did the right thing."
          "I think I want to die."
          At that moment, Giles stepped out of the shop.
          "Well, all went as expected. Our unexpected visitor is back home, somewhat befuddled but I
think none the worse for wear. It's late, and Cordelia and Wesley are still back at the library wondering
what happened." He turned to Xander. "Perhaps you should go home and shower. You've been in
close contact with out aromatic friend for quite a while, and from your description, I'd say that the scent
may be somewhat... contagious."
          Xander said, "Don't I wish. I think I'll just walk home. I'm not feeling too good right now."

                                                  **********

          When the rest arrived back at the library, Cordelia was conscious and complaining about a killer
headache, but other than that, she seemed to feel really good. Really, really good. She was worried
about her job, but Giles assured her that he would attest to her not being at fault. (It never came to that,
but they wouldn't learn that until the next day.) Cordy claimed to remember nothing about the park. It
was possible... just barely.
          Wesley claimed to be pleased with the outcome of the evening, declared victory for the good
guys, and made other sounds as if he had engineered the outcome himself. Nobody but Cordelia paid
him any mind. If it made him happy, he could have dressed up a Queen Elizabeth I, proclaimed "We
are very pleased" and been taken as seriously.

                                                  **********

          It was almost 1 AM when Xander found himself retracing his steps from earlier, replaying the
events to see if there was any way that he might have done things differently. Arriving at the old
storefront, he stepped inside and looked around. This could have been the scene of his greatest
moment... the kind of moment that high school males everywhere dreamed about. Six... there had been
six of them. And cheerleaders.
          "Look what I found," said the voice from the doorway. "I just came back for my belt, but this is
much better."
          Xander turned around as the red-headed cheerleader from earlier was closing the door, a hungry
look in her eye. She began stepping out of her skirt, and a moment later her sweater joined it on the
floor.
          Not knowing what to say, he went with the only thing that he could think of to say.
          "Oh... hi. My name's Xa... aaaack!"
          It seemed she wasn't big on conversation.

                                                  **********

          The Mayor walked into his office to find Quinn sitting at his desk, feet up and eyes closed.
          Taking in his clothing and attitude, he assumed that Quinn was another vampire.
          "What is it about the undead? You come back from the grave but leave your manners behind."
          Quinn opened one eye and looked at the Mayor.
          "You can't wear a long coat in this town without someone assuming you're part of the 'bite-aneck-
for-lunch' bunch." He rose so casually, it was obvious he did so because he chose to, not because
the Mayor expected it. Moving around to the other side of the desk, the Mayor assumed the vacated
chair.
          "Did you want something, or were you just looking to keep my chair toasty?"
          "Just delivering the latest news. I know you're a busy man, what with preparing for your
Ascension and all, so I'll see if I can make it quick." He ticked points off on his fingers. "Ummm...
Vampires dead. Book safe. Slayer sleeping in. Good guys won." He smiled as if pleased with his
brevity.
          The mayor looked mildly put-out.
          "I assumed the first part when they failed to return. I'll have to scold Faith severely. They were
only carrying out my orders."
          Quinn shook his head in negation.
          "Wrong Slayer."
          "Oh. It seems I may have to do something about the troublesome Miss Summers before long."
Quinn leaned closer, putting his hands on the desk.
          "Which brings me to the second portion of my message. Miss Summers is off limits, as are her
friends and family. Sunnydale isn't my usual turf, but if something should befall any of them, I would
make you my one and only priority. Trust me on this... you would dislike it." The smile never left
Quinn's face.
          "What would you do? Shoot me? Stab me? Report me to the ASPCA?" His Honor looked
smug.
          Quinn stood, completely unimpressed. "Oh, yeah. Impervious... yadda yadda yadda... like
whatever." The last was delivered in a broad Valley-girl style. "You think that being impervious makes
you untouchable. Death would be the last of your concerns."
          The Mayor opened the bottom drawer of his desk and removed a secure looking lock box,
setting it on the desk's blotter.
          "You know, I don't much care for being threatened, especially by nameless individuals with no
manners. No, I don't care for that at all."
          He opened the box and quickly re-closed it, but that brief moment was enough.
          As the lid opened, out of the dark interior sprang a gavrok, a huge, voracious spider-like
creature. Its instinct to kill made it spring at the first living thing it saw. The Mayor being behind the
lid, that made Quinn the first living thing. The creature out of nightmares leapt straight for Quinn's
face, its mandibles poised to sink deep into his unprotected flesh.
          The Mayor really didn't follow what happened, but the results were plain. The gavrok was
about to fang the intruder in the eyes, and the next it landed on the floor in two neat pieces, legs waving
feebly in the air as its simple nervous system came to terms with its own demise. The long-sword with
which Quinn had dispatched the arachnid was imbedded in the surface of the desk.
          "Look what you did," said the Mayor, indicating the desk top. "It's imported."
          With a motion, the sword came free from the wooden surface. The groove it left was almost
three-quarters of an inch deep at the edge.
          "A little spritz of Pledge should fix that right up." He cleaned the blade with one of the Mayor's
moist towelettes from the dispenser, and returned it to scabbard.
          The Mayor changed tacks. "I wasn't aware that there were Slayers of the male persuasion."
          Quinn smiled, exposing strong white teeth. It wasn't a terribly friendly smile. Taking the letter
opener from the blotter, placed his left hand flat on the desk top, and then drove the letter opener point
first down on the back of his hand. The blade bent and snapped at the hilt. The hand didn't even show
a red mark where the point had struck.
          He went on conversationally. "A Slayer would do the natural thing and try to kill your ass. Me,
I've never claimed to be too natural..." he gestured to his sword, "... so I'd just use this little darlin' to
circumcise you at the neck and drop what falls off into an active volcano. No one's going to be rushing
to put you back together again, Opie."
          "Do you think this is going to change a thing?" The Mayor tried to look unconcerned.
          Quinn sighed. "Probably not. I just thought I'd give you a chance to consider greener pastures
elsewhere. I understand Afghanistan is lovely this time of year."
          The Mayor shook his head. "Can't stand foreign food."
          "You know that even if you complete your Ascension, you won't enjoy it for long. The position
of 'resident demon' has a really high turn-over rate here."
          "I plan on holding the job for a very, very long time."
          Quinn looked disappointed.
          "There's one thing I've learned in life, and that's stupidity is its own reward... and usually
terminal. Can't say I didn't try."
          "I'm touched by your concern. Now, If you'll excuse me..."
          Quinn turned at the door. "One final word..."
          "Yes?" He didn't look up from his papers.
          "You remember the Judge, that demon who couldn't be killed by normal weapons? So a bunch
of knights got together and dismembered him to the four corners of the globe?"
          Wilkins nodded. "I followed his resurrection with interest."
          "Just remember... those medieval knights lacked imagination."
          Without another word, he turned and was gone.
          A slightly troubled look crossed the Mayor's face. His own imagination began to work, and he
became less happy by the minute. He began to scratch idly at his throat, then when he realized what he
was doing, he dropped his hand back.
          He had the uncomfortable feeling that this wasn't going to be one of his best days.

                                                  **********

          The next night, Oz was visiting Willow in her room. They were enjoying making out, but just
as things were heating up, she stopped.
          "It's not that I don't want to. You know that I like to.. a lot."
          Oz did know. He had no reason to doubt her words, since she was almost always the instigator
in their amorous encounters.
          Willow went on. "It's just that since yesterday, every time I think about... you know... sex... I
get this picture of the satyr, and I sort of feel all... ooky. You think there's something wrong?"
          "You sure you want, Wil? You know, we don't have to."
          Before he could protest further, she interrupted him.
          "Oh, no! I want to, really! But it's just that I keep seeing him... and how she looked... and it
sort of spoils the moment... you know what I mean? I would, if I could."
          "Okay." He reached inside his jacket and brought out a plastic zip-lock baggie with what
looked like a handkerchief inside. He opened the seal and held it out to Willow.
          "Here. Sniff."
          As the scent started to reach Willow, she said, "Oz! You didn't?!" Even as the words left her
mouth, she knew the answer from her body's reaction.
          "Let's just say that I have a special insight when it comes to animals and scents."
          Laughing, Willow gave a mock-growl, grabbed Oz by the shirt and threw him down on the bed.
          As she began fumbling at his pants, she said, "Speaking of animals, I think you'll be sorry you did
that!"
          He wasn't.

                                        END