TITLE: Mexico 3/9
AUTHOR: Rari Coss
E-MAIL ADDRESS: RariCoss1956@yahoo.com
DISCLAIMER: It all belongs to Joss, the WB, UPN, Fox, Mutant Enemy and anybody else who feels they own it. Oh, and I have no idea who owns Scarecrow and Mrs. King but I’m sure they have much more money than I do and I’m only playing.
FEEDBACK: Absolutely.

Francine’s head hurt. She hated Sunnydale with a vengeance and hated this kid Jonathan because he’d brought her here. She hoped he was as miserable as she was, the little snot. Hearing a sound she looked for a weapon, recoiling only slightly when she saw all her choices. The multitude of deadly implements made her hesitate and she hadn’t yet picked one up when she heard Lee’s call. “Francine?”

Letting out the breath she’d unconsciously been holding she moved to the doorway of the back room. “In here.”

Amanda and Lee cautiously made their way through the debris until they reached her. Lee grinned as he brushed some dust off of Francine. “Your sartorial splendor is slipping, Francine.”

Francine shivered at the thought. “I hate this town, I hate everything about it, and I hate everyone who lives here.”

Amanda looked at Francine in surprise. While the woman was never unduly pleasant, this vitriolic outburst was a bit excessive. “What happened?” Then she noticed the bandage on Francine’s neck. She reached out a hand toward it. “Are you all right? Did you get hurt?”

Lee was looking dubiously around the store. “Is it safe here?” Francine had left them a note at the hotel to join her here when they arrived.

Francine was shooing off Amanda. “Yes, it’s fine. The owners were here earlier and got everything braced up so they could start removing inventory.”

Amanda pursed her lips, thinking that Francine looked pale and shaken. She wished, not for the first time, that the woman wasn’t quite so prickly. “Why did you want us to meet you here?”

“Because for some reason everything I’ve found out about the little shit seems to center around this store and the people in it.”

Lee’s eyebrows rose. “The little shit?”

“Jonathan. The miscreant who brought us to the misbegotten town.”

Lee let out a breath and considered Francine. “Let’s start over and maybe you can try making some sense this time.”

Francine shot him a look of annoyance and then crossed the room and sat on a faded couch. “Fine. I found the home where Jonathan used to live with these two other guys, Andrew and Warren. It’s been destroyed. Cut into pieces.” She shook her head. “Why is no one noticing this stuff? Why can a house be ripped apart, this store mangled, monsters roaming around at night and no one cares? There is something seriously wrong with this place and everyone here.”

Amanda sat next to Francine, starting to really worry about her. “Monsters?”

Francine ripped the bandage off her neck, revealing the puncture wounds. “Monsters. I’m at the house, going through the wreckage when I see this guy standing there. Then, the next thing I know, he turns into this monster thing and bites me.” She jabbed her chest with a finger. “Me! Francine Desmond.” She sent Amanda and Lee a glare. “No one bites me without my permission.”

Lee bounced back on his heels, not quite sure how to respond to that statement. Amanda courageously kept at it. She looked at the wound. “Francine, it looks like someone attacked you with a barbecue fork. You could have been killed.”

The dismay in Amanda’s voice mollified Francine a little. “It wasn’t a fork. It was teeth.” She bared her own teeth. “Fangs.”

Lee pursed his lips. “Tell us about Jonathan.”

Amanda looked up at him. “Lee, she’s been hurt.” Amanda couldn’t stand for anyone to get hurt.

Lee almost got lost in the large chocolate colored eyes staring imploringly up at him. With an effort he pulled his eyes away and looked at Francine. “Are you all right? Do you need to see a doctor?” He was willing to focus on the wound. He was not willing to talk about monsters who bit people.

Francine shook her head in disgust and slapped the bandage back on, wincing slightly. “No, I’m fine. Just don’t expect me to go out at night while I’m here.”

Lee shot her an incredulous look. Francine, afraid of the dark? He shook his head. “Okay, now can we get back to Jonathan?”

Francine pulled out the small black notebook. “He was obsessed with these people. Obsessed with magic, and demons, and taking over the world. It’s like reading the diary of Pinky and the Brain.” Then she gestured around her. “Look at this place. Look at this stuff.”

Lee took a good look around, seeing the knives and other assorted weapons lying around. “There are perfectly reasonable explanations for this stuff, Francine. Lots of people collect weapons.” He motioned towards the punching bag. “This looks like a training room. They probably practice some kind of martial arts.”

Francine sent the back of her hand waving at him in a dismissing gesture. “You didn’t meet them. You didn’t see the books they had hanging around before they could get them all in boxes and take them away. Books on demons, and creatures of the night. Books on magic, and mayhem.” Her voice was rising.

Amanda smiled gently at Francine, hoping to calm her down. “It’s a magic shop, Francine. The merchandise is bound to be a bit odd.”

Francine blew out an exasperated breath. “Fine. Whatever. But these people know about Jonathan, and they know what happened to him. I’d bet my last paycheck on that, as paltry as it is.” She stood and started pacing. “First, there’s Rupert Giles, part owner. Good looking man, in his forties. Full of secrets, and a very bad liar. He has a shadow, a young blond, one Buffy Summers, who wouldn’t let him out of her sight. They kept making eyes at each other.” Francine had to admit that she was annoyed she hadn’t been able to charm Rupert. He’d been too distracted, too focused on Buffy.

“Who did you tell him you were?” Lee wanted to be able to corroborate her story.

“Insurance investigator.” Realizing the pacing was making her tired, she flopped back down on the couch. “Then there’s the other owner. Anya. She’s a piece of work, let me tell you. The only person she was half way pleasant to was Rupert, and even then it was borderline. How they ran a business together was beyond me. They were all lying. They hadn’t taken the time to come up with a good lie, so they all told me different stories about what happened to the store.”

Lee leaned back on the vault horse. “How did you work Jonathan into the conversation?”

“I mentioned I was investigating the other house as well, and mentioned their names, saying I was looking for the three of them so I could ask them some questions. You should have seen the looks on their faces.” She moved to the edge of the couch and nailed Lee with a glare. “They know something, and whatever it is, it’s not good.”

Lee scowled. He didn’t want to bring bad news back to Billy without some further proof. “Maybe Amanda and I can go talk to this Rupert Giles fellow and you can go talk to Anya. Maybe separately we’ll get more information out of them.” He looked at his watch and couldn’t help grinning at Francine. “Although it’s almost dark. It's almost your bedtime.”

Amanda sent him a disapproving look. “Lee.”

Lee relented. “All right, I’m sorry. Obviously something attacked you, Francine. It’s just not like you to get so rattled. You’ve been attacked as often as I have on the job, and been hurt far worse.”

Francine touched her neck and stood. “I know.” She hated letting anyone see any weakness and she was determined that these two had seen enough. “I’ll go see Anya. I have her address.” She fished for a piece of paper out of her purse. “Here’s where Rupert Giles is staying. It’s with that Buffy girl and her younger sister, Dawn.”

Amanda took the paper and held it while she considered Francine. Her voice was soft when she spoke. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Francine flipped her hair back and squared her shoulders. “Sure, I’m fine. We can meet back at the hotel later.” Without another word she headed out of the room, through the main body of the shop, and was out the door.

Amanda and Lee locked gazes for a moment. When Lee saw how worried Amanda looked he moved over to her and put his arm around her shoulder. “She’ll be fine, Amanda. She’s a trained agent.”

Amanda sighed and nodded. “I know. She just wasn’t acting normal, even for Francine.”

Lee had to agree. “Well, then I suggest we find what we came here to find and get the hell out of dodge. What do you say?”

Amanda smiled at her partner. “I couldn’t agree more.” Then the smile faded. “I hope he’s okay.”

“Jonathan?”

She nodded.

“Me too.”

***

At the fourth truck stop, Jonathan had decided he’d had enough. Even dealing with Buffy was better than dealing with the looks being shot his way by too many swarthy looking truckers. He didn’t know what was on their minds, but it was totally creeping him out. Totally.

Then he remembered Willow and that she was trying to kill him, and that that had been pretty creepy too. Jonathan sighed and moved a couple of inches away from the man who was standing just a little too close.

He closed his eyes thinking about what a mess he’d made of everything. Warren dead, Andrew becoming less and less the friend he’d thought he was with every passing hour. Nothing made sense. And the guilt was tearing him up inside. So many bad things had happened because the three of them had wanted to take over the world, and get laid.

Jonathan sighed again. Maybe he should just go back and take what was coming to him. At least then it would be over. Mexico seemed far away but all the ghosts, and guilt, and fear were just going to be crossing over the border with him. And that made Mexico as bad as Sunnydale. Well, except for Willow.

He just needed to find Buffy first. She’d protect him. She probably wouldn't be too happy about it, but she'd protect him. She sort of had to. Jonathan was pretty sure it was kind of in her contract, being the Slayer and all.

The truck driver who had picked he and Andrew up sauntered over to him and put his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, giving a baleful glare toward the other man. Jonathan felt like a piece of raw meat between two pit bulls. He smiled weakly at the driver. He held up his finger. “I’m just going to use the bathroom.” He oozed out from under the meaty paw and followed the signs to the restroom. Then he was out the backdoor and running.

***

Francine knocked on the apartment door. The pressure from the knocking opened the door and she realized it hadn’t been latched shut. “Hello? Anya?”

No one answered her but she could hear muttering coming from the bedroom. Angry muttering. Francine followed the noises until she found the woman she was looking for, packing a suitcase, and being none too gentle with the items she wasn’t taking. “I hate men.”

Francine couldn’t help but agree. “I hear you.”

Anya spun around. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Francine pointed back the way she had come. “I knocked, but you didn’t hear me. The door was open.”

Anya started muttering again. She picked up a bottle of men's cologne and threw it against the wall. Rather than breaking, the plastic bottle just ricocheted off the wall and almost hit her. “I hate men. They are scum, they are worse than scum. They are the parasites that live on scum.”

Francine nodded. “I’ve been there.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “What’d the bastard do to you?”

“First, he made me fall in love with him with his wooing eyes. Then he weakened me with his kisses. Then he asked me to marry him and wouldn’t let me tell anyone. Then when we were finally getting married he left me at the altar.”

Francine whistled. “Sounds like a man.”

Anya wasn’t done. “And do you know where he is now?”

Francine was familiar with most of these plots. “Let me guess. With an old girlfriend, right?”

Anya gaped at her. “Yes, yes, that’s exactly where he is. His best friend girlfriend. The one that’s supposed to be gay. And right now, he’s in bed with her.” Anya didn’t mention that they were only sleeping. She didn’t care. It was the principle of the thing.

Francine tightened her lips and nodded her head. “Ah, the old ‘she’s only a friend’ trick. I’ve heard that one before.”

Anya sat down on the bed next to the woman. “You have been scorned too?”

“Oh yeah, more times that I care to remember.”

Anya’s voice began to change, grow deeper and more formal. “Do you wish revenge?”

“Let me count the ways.”

“The men you wish to have revenge on are here?”

“No, in Washington, D.C.”

“There are many men to scorn there?”

Francine snorted. “D.C. is the leave ‘em weeping capitol of the world.”

“What would you wish on these men?”

Francine had given it a lot of thought. “Well, for Brian I would wish that he’d suddenly find himself screwing a goat the next time he’s addressing Congress. Tom needs to have his dick fall off. I’d like Eddie to marry some real shrew who’d make his life a living hell. Lee…” She thought for a moment. “Let’s leave Lee out of it for the time being.”

“Why would you not wish vengeance on this Lee? Did he break your heart?”

“Yes he did. But to be fair, he told me not to fall for him, so at least he didn’t play games with me.” She grinned. “Besides, I think he’s falling for Amanda and that seems a fitting sort of punishment. God, that woman can talk the leaves right off a tree.”

Anya stared at the attractive blond woman sitting on her bed. “Have you ever considered becoming a vengeance demon? I think you might be a natural.”

Francine’s eyebrows rose. “A what?”

Anya let her face change. “A vengeance demon. A protector of scorned woman.”

Francine rolled her eyes. “Jeez, is everyone in this town a mutant?” She pulled off the bandage on her neck. “What did this?”

Anya shifted back to her human face, and looked. “A vampire.”

Francine let out a long breath. “A vampire. Shit.” She looked at Anya. “A vengeance demon. Of course.” She tapped her fingers on her thighs and then she pursed her lips. “Are there good benefits?”

“You’ll be immortal. You’ll never age. You’ll never want for money. You will never fear again.”

Francine stared at her, incredulous. “I was thinking insurance, vacation time, retirement fund.” She thought about what Anya had said. “Those are good benefits.” She stood and moved to the bathroom staring in the mirror. “I’ll never age?”

Anya moved to stand next to her. “I am over 1200 years old.”

Francine’s jaw dropped. “Get out.” She looked more closely. “Your complexion looks great.”

Despite the fact that Xander, before he’d broken her heart, had almost made up for the inconveniences of being human, Anya had to admit that being immortal was pretty great. “Just don’t make the mistake I made and fall in love with a human.”

Francine snorted. “Fall in love? I’ll never do that again. As far as I am concerned, you just play for a while, and then you move on.” She pointed at Anya’s face in the mirror. “That thing that happened to your face. Would that happen to me too?”

“Yes, when you are using your power. Otherwise you will look the same as you do now.”

“So I could keep my job, and get to sneer at all the women I work with as they get older and I don’t?”

Anya moved back into the bedroom to finish packing up the few things she had left behind. “You can do anything you want.” She threw some shoes into the suitcase. “Except trust men.”

Francine rolled her eyes. “That’s a given.” Then she remembered why she was there. “Oh, and do you mind telling me where Jonathan is?”

Anya shrugged. “Last I heard, he was on his way to Mexico. I mean, after all, he’s a man too, so naturally, after helping create a catastrophe, he ran away. He didn’t even stay to make sure that the people who were helping him were okay. The people who were out of his mind to help him, because he's scum too. Lower than scum.” She sat again. “All men. Except maybe Giles.” Her eyes grew dark. “He might not be scum but he's almost as bad. Because he left Buffy. He left us all. He didn’t even come for the wedding and if he’d been here, Xander wouldn’t have run away.” Anya fingered the pendant between her breasts. “I hate men.”

Francine was feeling a deep kinship with this woman. “They’re scum all right.”

Anya stood and stared down at the belongings she had gathered. “Let’s go. I don’t want any of this stuff. It will just remind me of him.”

Francine stood too. “Where are we going?”

“To see D’Hoffryn. He’s the vengeance demon boss. You’re lucky. He’s kind of on a recruiting jag right now.”

Francine suddenly felt nervous. “Suppose I don’t want to become one of these vengeance demons?”

“Then you just tell him no. He doesn’t want anyone who won’t give a hundred percent to the job.”

“Oh, okay.” With that, she followed Anya out of the apartment.

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