by Forrister
Email address: forrister@hotmail.com
Feedback: Please – I really appreciate some constructive feedback. (Not necessarily positive feedback, but definitely constructive.)
Distribution: Please don’t distribute or archive my story without asking me.
Rating: PG –13
Disclaimer: I know Joss owns them all. I know I don’t. (A little knowledge can be so damn frustrating.)
Note: Post “The Gift”. Sequel to “Little Miss Nobody.” (Set about eight weeks after ‘The Gift’)
Katharyn seems to think this is about ready to get posted so I’ll put on my trusty trench helmet and give it a shot. I’d like to acknowledge all the folk who gave me feedback for my previous efforts. Your kind words have encouraged me to continue. (So you only have yourselves to blame!)
I’d also like to put in a small note of support for those brave souls in the non-spoiler thread who have stoically resisted all sorts of temptations by unscrupulous kitties to take a walk on the wild side. I hope this helps to provide a brief distraction from the trials of spoilerdom.
Chapter 1
Anya watched the woman with all the intensity of a hawk checking out its next meal. She’d been browsing in the book section for the past half hour and the suspense was nearly killing the ex-demon salesgirl.
“Buy something! Buy something!” Anya muttered under her breath.
The woman looked up and held her gaze for a moment before returning to her browsing.
“Wow!” thought Anya. “Maybe I’ve hit on some sort of sales mantra!”
“Buy something! Buy something!” chanted Anya softly.
The woman seemed to pause for a minute and then brought a small pile of books to the counter.
“I’ll be taking these but I’d like to look a little longer, if that’s not a problem?” she said in a musical Scottish accent.
Anya was delighted. There were at least two hundred dollars worth of books here. She mentally tallied that up against the rest of the day’s takings and was very pleased by the comparison. Then she realised that the woman was waiting for a reply.
“Oh, sure! Take all the time you like! We don’t close for hours!” Anya positively babbled in her glee.
The woman smiled and returned to the shelves.
Half an hour later Tara and Willow walked in. They’d been in the library going over possible course options for the new academic year. Tara decided she was taking Comparative Religion and Celtic Literature. They were both taking Medieval European Literature and Willow was determined to take Advanced Latin, despite never having studied the language formally before. She was convinced that five years of translating Latin texts and spells would make up for anything she missed. The two were still discussing course choices when they arrived at the Magic Box.
“He wasn’t”
“He was. The man was a complete tyrant!” maintained Tara steadfastly.
“He was one of history’s greatest generals!”
Tara stopped and gave her a firm look. “If he was so great then why did he lose everything and die in exile?”
“That’s only because everyone was against him.” Protested Willow.
“And that doesn’t tell you anything?” retorted Tara.
“Shhh!” cautioned Anya. “You’ll disturb the paying customers.”
Willow looked puzzled. “I thought the shop was supposed to close half an hour ago?”
“Shhh!!!” repeated Anya. “That was before we got a customer with a big budget.” She pointed to the woman who was busily examining the various jars of esoteric ingredients.
“Who are you two arguing about anyway?” asked Anya.
“We were just having a difference of opinion about Napoleon.” Said Tara.
“I’m thinking about taking European History.” Willow added.
“He was a pain.” Recalled Anya. “A real little tin god.”
“You actually met him?” asked Willow in awe.
“Yeah, I was doing this little job for Josephine on one of her lovers when I met him. Short, slightly pudgy, with receding hair.” Commented Anya.
“And?” prompted Willow.
“And nothing.” Stated Anya. “I wasn’t there for vengeance on him. I didn’t like him much but hey, business is business.” which reminded her that the customer was her business. She began chanting again. “Buy something! Buy something!”
Tara and Willow simply shook their heads and went to sit at the table. Tara sat and watched the woman for a while. There was something about her that she just couldn’t pin down. Not a bad something, she finally decided, but an unusual something. The woman didn’t seem to be particularly young but didn’t give the impression of age either. Her red hair was pinned away from her face and fell down her back to her waist. There were touches of white at her temples but this gave her a look of dignity rather than age.
As if the woman could sense Tara’s probing gaze, she looked up. Tara winced and shielded her eyes from the flare of bright light that surrounded the woman for a split second.
Willow took her hand. “Tara? Tara baby, are you alright?”
Tara shook her hear to clear her vision. Willow stood up and moved to her side but Tara was looking only at the strange woman.
“I-I-I’m f-fine.” Stuttered Tara, making it perfectly clear to Willow that she was nothing of the sort.
“We’ve had a lot to deal with lately. I think we should head home for an early night.” Willow’s voice was full of concern.
Tara laid a hand on her arm to reassure her. “No, I’ll be fine, really I will. It’s nothing.” Willow gave her a sharp look and sat down next to her, prepared to wait until Tara was ready to talk about it.
The woman brought a small pile of powders, herbs and oils down to the gleeful Anya who immediately began to tally them up.
“Is it possible to have them delivered to where I’m staying?” asked the woman.
“Sure!” chirped Anya, who would have been prepared to hand deliver to Siberia at that point. She handed the woman a card and waited while she filled it out.
Giles walked in and saw the customer at the counter. He checked his watch and frowned. He was about to go over to see what was going on when he caught a glimpse of the glee on Anya’s face. He shrugged his shoulders and decided to get on with straightening his shelves. Customers browsed and then returned the books to a completely different place on the shelf, upsetting the carefully arranged order of things. He tried not to take it as a personal affront but it was quite irritating.
The woman thanked Anya and with a brief glance at the two women sitting at the table, she left the Magic Box.
Anya did her own version of a little snoopy dance as she put the money in the till.
“Anya. Aren’t we supposed to close at 5pm sharp?” Giles put another book back on the shelf.
“I’m not closing when there is a paying customer still shopping.”
“But it’s now quarter to six. If we keep this up there might be complaints about our irregular hours to the Chamber of Commerce.”
Anya went a little pale. “Does that mean I’ll have to give the money back?”
“Money?” Asked Giles. “What money?”
“That customer just spent $673.50.”
“Oh.” Giles did a some mental calculations and decided that his cash flow could stand a few complaints to the Chamber of Commerce.
“Besides, you might get a nice tip when you deliver her books this evening.” Added Anya.
Giles did a double take. “Since when do we deliver?”
“Well… I couldn’t turn down such a good customer and I do want her to come back and spend more money.” Anya turned to Willow. “That’s how you build up a business and create a firm customer base. Isn’t it?”
Willow rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry I ever gave you that copy of ‘How to Succeed in Business.’ for Christmas.”
“Why?” asked Anya. “It’s a very good book, even though it neglects to mention sex once.”
Giles raised his eyebrows. “And what, may I ask - and I swear I’ll regret this - , does er.. sex, have to do with business?”
“I keep hearing that ‘sex sells’ but no one will explain just how that works with a shop like this one. We have no room for any girls out back and …”
“ANYA!” Giles cut her off. Willow began to chuckle quietly to herself.
“What did I say now?” whined Anya.
“Back to the point, young lady.” Giles valiantly managed not to smile. “Who’s going to make this delivery?”
“Don’t look at me!” said Anya. “I’m strictly sales staff.”
“W-we’ll do it.”
Everyone turned to look at Tara.
“Are you sure?” asked Willow, worried at the tone in her lover’s voice.
“Yes.” Tara sounded determined. “Where do we go?”
“Room 14, Sunnydale Inn, between 8 and 9pm.” Read Anya from a card. “Her name is Si.. Si –o… something Buchanan.”
“Let me” said Giles as he took the card. “Oh, Shavorn.”
“How does S-i-o-b-h-a-n come out as ‘Shavorn’?” asked Anya.
“It’s an old Gaelic name. Usually Scottish or Irish.” He noted.
“Yeah, I have heard it before once or twice in the last thousand years or so.” Said Anya, sarcastically. “I’ve just never seen it written before. Now that you mention it though, she did have a Scottish accent.”
“Well, that explains it, doesn’t it.” Giles put the card carefully in his small but slowly expanding card file. “Now that that’s settled. Anya, please pack these things up in a box with one of our shop flyers and I’ll close up.”
Anya looked like she was about to protest.
“If you want to hire a box boy we can always take his wages out of your salary.” Added Giles firmly.
Anya waited until he turned back to his shelving to poke out her tongue at him.
Willow was following this little byplay with amusement. Anya could be so… well, just Anya. She turned to Tara and noticed how pale she still looked. “Are you sure we want to do this? I’m sure that Xander would drop this stuff off after work if we asked him nicely.”
“Hey!” protested Anya. “I had plans for tonight!”
Willow grinned. “I know exactly what sort of plans you had in mind. The sort of plans you have every night.”
“Why change a good plan?” replied Anya, totally unconcerned that her sex life was again a topic of public discussion.
“Giles, we had a postcard from Dawn today.” Said Willow, changing the subject.
“I haven’t heard a thing from Buffy since they left two weeks ago.” Replied Giles as he joined them at the table.
“Here then, read this.” Willow handed Giles a postcard with a picture of a waterfall and an old-fashioned steam engine chugging past.”
It read,
Willow, Tara, Spike and the gang.
We’re having a great time! We’ve spent the last couple of days touring around the Atherton Tablelands and we travelled back to Cairns on this train. Isn’t it neat? Tomorrow we’re going snorkelling on the Great Barrier Reef. Buffy says that she may just stay here forever, but I think we should be back on time. There’s this guy named Simmo and I think he likes her cause he keeps showing up in our tour groups and hanging out with us. I’ve got to go because they’re collecting the post soon and I want you to get this before we get back.
love, Dawn.
PS: Simmo’s got a younger brother named Craig and he’s cute. – D
Giles smiled. “I’m glad they’re having a good time. They needed a bit of a holiday. I wish Buffy had written though.”
“You know Buffy, she’ll wait to write until she has something to write about, and then she’ll decide that she might as well wait and tell you herself.” commented Willow.
“Yes, she never was much of a correspondent.” Agreed Giles as he went to tidy the bargain bin.
Willow began to gather up her laptop and books.
“For a second she had such a p-powerful aura about her.” Said Tara unexpectedly. “So bright and clear. Then it was gone.”
“Who? Siobhan Buchanan? She looked mostly harmless to me.” Willow looked keenly at Tara’s worried expression and pale face. “This isn’t that spidey-sense of yours is it? I mean, she’s not dangerous, is she? You know, like hellgoddess coming to destroy everything , type dangerous?”
“I… I’m not sure. I think she could be, if she wanted. B-but she didn’t seem evil, more sad.” Tara was having trouble describing what she’d seen. She wasn’t even sure if she’d actually seen what she thought she’d seen, but she was sure it was worth looking into.
Willow just held her for a minute, thinking all the while. Tara sometimes had an uncanny knack of seeing people and just knowing about them. Willow began to worry about how they could deal with another unknown threat, if that’s what it turned out to be.
Willow gently kissed her forehead. “We’ve got a couple of hours. We should get some spells ready just in case and then we’ll go. Together.”
Tara nodded.
**********
Well for what it’s worth that’s the beginning. Other parts have been written and I’m still in the process of finishing it. I’ll be posting every few days when I can. Thanks, Katharyn for all the advice and help. The Beginnings Cycle is still my favourite.
Omnium rerum principia parva sunt.
(Everything has a small beginning.)