Title: Viticulture 3/3
Author: Kimmerwoman (kimmerwoman@yahoo.com)
Feedback: Absolutely. Constructive criticism is welcome.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Joss, ME and other corporate bigshots.
Anya draped her arm around his shoulder. "Good answer, honey." She thought for a moment. "Um, can we go back? What about the Cholorus?" She sat back up, squinting at him. "What was this deal you made - without me?"
"Erm, yes...well," Giles replied off-handedly. "I offered him money in exchange for the bill-of-sale and..."
"What?" Anya was furious, but she kept her voice down. "I won that car fair and square! You shouldn't have..." She was stopped by gentle fingers on her mouth.
"Anya, we need to go back. It's the only thing I could think of that would allow that to happen." He looked her in the eyes, trying to gauge her temper. "You see that, yes?" he queried. She nodded and he removed his hand.
Anya folded her arms in front of her. Oh that man, she thought, furiously. "How much?" she asked tersely.
"He wanted $5,000," Giles started. A glance at Anya's face hurried him on. "We settled on $100 and a six-month supply of that herbal muck you gave him for his rash."
Anya sat back, stunned. "Really? I mean you can be an excellent negotiator, but...wow. That's better than I could have done."
"Yes, well...I do have many hidden talents," Giles drew Anya back to him and delicately kissed her. "Though I'm fairly certain my success had less to do with superior negotiation and more to do with my reminding him of where the surveillance cameras are located in his card club." He offered her a huge smile.
"Blackmail! You gave him a big, old blackmail!" Anya laughed, then drew herself up. She waggled a finger at her man. "Just because you were successful this time, don't you think you're off the hook!" She painted on her best, 'do not disobey me,' face. "You are NOT to negotiate without me from now on!"
Giles gave her a squeeze. "I make no promises, but I shall truly try my best."
***
Giles eased the car through the long shadows cast by the late afternoon sun and into the parking space at Few Oaks. Meeting at the trunk, Giles opened it and removed the case of wine he'd purchased earlier. Anya reached around him and grabbed the bags containing her own purchases. "I really need to use the bathroom sweetie," she said breathlessly. "I'll meet you upstairs." She headed for the house, leaving him to wrestle with the heavy box.
Once inside, Anya threw a quick wave at Gene, who was taking a phone message at the front desk, and dashed up the stairs. As she climbed the steps, she took the slim, brass room key from her pocket, readying it for immediate use once she reached the door. She entered the room, tossing her packages on the bed and ran for the bathroom. Finished, she went to the sink and washed her hands. She took a quick look at herself in the mirror, smoothed down her hair and separated a small clump of mascara on her lashes. "Perfect," she said under her breath. She turned at the knock at the door. "Sorry Rupert," she called as she headed for the door. "I should have unlocked it." She twisted the knob and pulled the door open. It was Gene, holding a slip of paper.
"Oh. You're not..." She regrouped. "Um, hi. May I help you?"
"My apologies for disturbing you Ms. Jenkins, but I have a message for you."
Both sets of eyes widened as they each realized his mistaken use of her name. Anya grabbed the door, trying to swing it closed. It was caught, and shoved open, by a preternaturally strong arm. She let go of the door and backed into the room, putting the bed between her and the demon. "Who the hell are you?" Anya's heart was pounding, but she kept her voice steady.
Gene stood by the doorway, his true nature becoming evident as his exterior changed from pale flesh to red and black scales. "You don't know?" He leaned his head back and breathed deeply through his nose. He straightened and looked at her, a smug rictus carving a horizontal line across his face. In a blink, he was in front of her, a now-clawed hand at her throat. He leaned in, pressing his mouth against her ear. "I'm the repo man."
"No!" she cried. The demon squeezed slightly and her voice roughened. "No, you don't understand! It's taken care of! The Cholorus..."
"Wants his car back," finished the demon. He began to walk, lifting Anya slightly off her feet. She wrapped both hands around his wrist and struggled to keep her feet.
"I'm here to collect. And I never disappoint my clients." He gave a sibilant hiss at the final consonant. "Now," he asked with oily sincerity. "Where are the keys?"
Anya found herself backed against the wall and she again tried to reason with the demon. "Look, just call him. We've arranged a purchase!" She pinched her eyes closed as he searched her for the keys. "Please, don't do this!"
"Tickety-boo." The voice was soft, deadly and was directly behind the demon.
Anya managed a small smile of recognition as the creature's head swiveled 'round. She relaxed her body, slipping out of the creature's grip as she fell to the ground. She could see Giles' shoes through the bowed legs of the demon. Anya kept low and watched as his legs twisted slightly. The unmistakable whistle of steel through air was chased by a 'whump' when the demon's head hit the ground, soon followed by the body. Anya looked up when she saw Rupert's outstretched hand. She took it and he helped her to her feet, steadying her as she stepped over the headless body. Giles still gripped the sword, its tip dripping ichor. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Then they fell into each other's arms.
"Jesus, Anya." Rupert's arms encircled her, lifting her off the ground. "That was too close."
Anya could feel him shaking. "It's ok, honey." She rubbed her palms up and down his back. "I'm ok." She drew back, looked at him squarely in the eye. "I knew you'd come," she said simply.
He brought her head to his chest. "Always," he whispered, a promise made.
They stood quietly, content in each other's embrace.
"Honey?" Anya asked after a minute or two. "Not that I don't love hugging you but, the sword? It's kinda digging in."
"Hell, I forgot!" Rupert released her, and massaged the spot on her back where the hilt had dug in. "Alright?"
"It's fine." Anya's eyes followed as he walked to the bathroom."How did you know he was here?" she called.
He came out with a towel and began wiping down his sword. "He doodled," he replied, laconically.
"He doo...I'm sorry. Did you say, "doodled?"
Giles stopped cleaning. "I stopped at the front desk, to ask them to hold the wine." He shrugged his shoulders. "He'd been doodling on the message pad. Corvash symbols are really rather unmistakeable." "Smart men are so sexy," Anya sighed. She went to him, stood on tip-toe and kissed him. "Thank you, honey." She aimed her thumb over her shoulder. "Now what do we do with the body?"
***
The following morning dawned clear and chill. Giles and Anya had managed to get their luggage, and the precious case of wine, down the stairs and next to the car. Giles popped open the trunk and began loading while Anya settled the bill. How she thought she'd wangle a 'discount for demon attack' he'd no idea, but his money was on Anya.
He'd just tucked in the last bit when he felt Anya's hand on his back. "How'd it go?" he asked, turning to look at her.
"They took 2 nights off the bill," she replied, triumphantly. "How'd it go with the Cholorus?"
"Five minutes of not terribly sincere apologies, I'm afraid." He shut the trunk. "Apparently, he was unable to call off the Corvash. Lost his mobile number or some such nonsense." They walked to the passenger side and Giles opened the door.
"So what happens when we get back?" Anya asked.
"I'll pay him a little visit." There was a Ripper-ish edge to his reply. He started the engine and began to back out.
Anya shot him a look. "We, honey. We will pay him a little visit." Anyanka wasn't entirely gone either, it seemed.
Giles put the car into gear. "And here I was worried about what we'd talk about on the long drive home."
He smiled and punched the gas.
TBC...