The Devil Went Down to Sunnydale IV (Patreon)

Chapter IV: New Job pt I

                                                     – o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Xander stepped into the gym alongside Buffy and Willow, his eyes immediately captivated by the flurry of activity across the room. Cheerleader tryouts were in full swing, a sea of girls stretching, flipping, and tumbling with an energy that seemed to electrify the air. One girl, in particular, caught his eye as she executed a flawless roundoff followed by a back handspring. Wow, sometimes being in this hell of a high school does pay off, he mused internally, eyes lingering on the girls as they moved.

Willow's voice cut through his thoughts, pulling his attention away from the acrobatics slightly. "So, Giles didn't approve, huh?" she asked, tone clearly curious. 

She crossed her arms as she walked alongside Buffy, Xander on the opposite side of the blond, green-eyed gaze scanning the gym with a slight frown. Dressed in her patterned long-sleeve shirt and purple velvet jeans, she was the most covered up example of the female species in the place, a stark contrast to the minimally clad cheerleaders doing their best to show their stuff.

Willow's voice cut through his thoughts, pulling his attention away from the acrobatics slightly. "So, Giles didn't approve, huh?" she asked, her tone laced with a mix of concern and curiosity. She crossed her arms as she walked alongside Buffy, Xander on the opposite side of the blond, green-eyed gaze scanning the gym with a slight frown. Dressed in her patterned long-sleeve shirt and purple velvet jeans, she was the most covered up example of the female species in the place, a stark contrast to the minimally clad cheerleaders doing their best to show their stuff.

Buffy, walking beside them, scoffed at the mention of her Watcher. "He totally lost his water. Blabbing on about 'common sense, Buffy'. Give me a break. We haven't even seen a vampire in over a week." She rolled her eyes, her ponytail swishing with the motion as she strutted towards the center of the gym.

Xander raised his eyebrows at Buffy's comment, a knowing hum escaping his lips. You're welcome, by the way, he thought, a small surge of pride warming his chest. Wish I could brag about that out loud though. Truth be told, a week later and he still had yet to tell anyone about his... changes, least of all the two girls and their resident Brit. He had been a major part of the recent peace, though he would prefer to keep that knowledge away from any of his friends, simply out of self-preservation.

His gaze drifted back to the cheerleaders, biting his lip as he saw a particularly impressive flip. "Y'know, people scoff at things like school spirit, but look at these girls giving their all like this!" He pointed out a girl performing a perfect split between two chairs, his eyes widening appreciatively. "Oooooh, stretchy."

Buffy rolled her eyes at Xander's typical distraction, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth despite herself. "Maybe if you focused half as much on your studies as you do on cheerleaders, you wouldn't be failing math," she teased, her tone more playful than serious.

"Hey, I'm not failing," Xander protested, tearing his gaze away from the gymnastic display to shoot Buffy a mock-offended look. "I'm just... not excelling. There's a difference."

Willow, ever the supportive friend, smiled reassuringly at Buffy, choosing to ignore Xander's academic shortcomings for the moment. "Well, we're behind you," she declared with a nod before her eyes shifted to Xander, her expression turning slightly exasperated. "Both of us. Right, Xander?"

Xander, still somewhat entranced by the flexibility on display, only half-listened to his friends. It was less of him being not sure how to explain it and more of the worry that they'd try to eliminate him, honestly. He could only thank the girls in the gym for being the perfect distraction for his worry about being the next monster Buffy mauled. Maybe an overexaggeration, but I'd still like to keep my head where it belongs, he thought to himself, shoving his hands into his light-washed jean shorts.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, totally," he agreed absentmindedly, his gaze still firmly on the potential cheerleader limbering up. "One hundred percent behind the Buffster. Go team."

Buffy, noticing his distraction, nudged him lightly with her elbow, and rolled her eyes before striding off towards the bleachers. Xander snapped his fingers twice, and pointed his finger in Buffy's direction without looking, his gaze still firmly on the potential cheerleader limbering up, before turning to face Willow, the green-eyed girl shooting him a look.

"What?" he asked defensively, holding up his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I'm appreciating the... athleticism. It's very impressive."

Willow raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Uh-huh. I'm sure that's what you're appreciating," she said dryly, her tone making it clear she saw right through his flimsy excuse.

Xander grinned, unrepentant. "Hey, I'm a red-blooded American male. It's in my DNA to appreciate the female form in all its... bendy glory," he quipped, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Especially when they’re smokin’ hot.”

Willow rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth despite herself. "You're incorrigible," she informed him, shaking her head as she started to follow Buffy towards the bleachers.

"I prefer 'charming'," Xander called after her, his grin widening as he watched her go. Okay, maybe 'incorrigible' is more accurate, he admitted to himself, his gaze drifting back to the cheerleaders once more. But can you blame me? I mean, look at them.

He allowed himself another moment of appreciation before shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Focus, Harris. Maybe try to stay on the girl’s good side so they’re thinking good Xander things if they find out.

The thought sobered him, a frown pulling at his mouth. It had been a week since his transformation, a week of sneaking out at night to hunt fresh vampires, a week of lying to his friends about where he was going and what he was doing.He’d say family but neither of his parents cared all that much where he went, Tony especially. It was exhausting — more mentally than physically, seeing as he could run for a good hour now before needing to catch a breath — and he knew he couldn't keep it up forever.

I'm gonna have to tell them eventually, he realized, his stomach twisting at the thought. But how the hell do I even begin to explain this?

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to push the thought aside for now. One problem at a time, Harris, he told himself, taking a deep breath as he started to follow his friends towards the bleachers. First, let's stare at the girls to relax. Then you can worry about the whole 'coming out as a devil' thing.

"Where was I?" he asked absentmindedly as he caught up to Willow and Buffy, trying to focus on the moment.

“Being a bit of a pig,” Buffy chirped playfully.

Willow glanced at him, her expression a mix of fondness and exasperation. "Ogling the cheerleaders," she reminded him, tone dry as the Mojave but a smile on her face.

Xander grinned, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "Ah, right. The important things in life.”

Willow shook her head, but leaned into his side slightly, a small smile on her face. "You're hopeless," she informed him, but there was no real heat behind the words.

Cordelia marched over to where Xander, Willow, and Buffy stood, the popular mean girl in nothing more than a black sports bra with silver star patterns along with a matching pair of booty shorts. Stopping beside Willow, she tossed her brown hair back and scoffed, her expression full of disdain. "Just look at that Amber. Who does she think she is, a Laker Girl?"

Willow, who had been watching the cheerleaders with a mixture of awe and apprehension, responded without missing a beat. "I heard she turned them down." Xander smirked as her response did the intended job of getting under Cordelia's skin, judging by the quick flick of insecurity that crossed her face.

Score one for Willow, he thought, shooting his best friend a subtle thumbs up. Nothing like a little verbal sparrage to give Cordelia a taste of her own.

The cheerleading squad leader, a girl in a thin yellow sweater and a ponytail, stepped forward with a clipboard in hand. "Okay, listen up! Let's begin with," she glanced down at her clipboard, "Amber Grove. If you're not auditioning, move off the floor."

As the cheerleaders and spectators shuffled around, Willow spotted a familiar face in a yellow t-shirt. "Amy! Hi!" she called out, waving over the brown-haired girl who was tying her ponytail.

Amy approached with a nervous smile. “Hi!”

"I didn't know you wanted to be a cheerleader!” Willow commented, sounding both surprised and pleased.

“What about you?” Amy asked curiously, a focused look on her face for a moment.

Xander raised an eyebrow at the comment, his gaze flicking between the two girls. Willow, a cheerleader? he thought, trying to picture his shy, bookish best friend in the skimpy outfits and pom-poms. Now that's a mental image.

“Me?” Willow laughed nervously, her face reddening. “Noooo, I could never…” Coughing into her fist, she glanced back at Amy. “You lost a lot of weight, by the way,” she continued, sounding both surprised and pleased.

"Had to," Amy replied shortly, her eyes flicking meaningfully towards the group of cheerleaders. Xander followed her gaze, taking in the slim, toned figures of the girls stretching and warming up. Yeesh, talk about pressure, he mused. No wonder she's looking so stressed.

"Do you know Buffy?" Willow turned to introduce her friend.

"Hi," Buffy said, extending a hand with a friendly smile.

“As much as I love cheerleading, I hate the competition,” Amy muttered, her tone dry as she shook Buffy's hand.

Xander smirked at the comment. "Tell me about it," he said, leaning in as he butted in to the conversation. "I'd rather face a horde of hungry vampires than a pack of judgmental cheerleaders any day."

Amy shot him a curious look, her brow furrowing slightly. "Vampires?" she repeated, sounding both confused and intrigued.

Xander's eyes widened, realizing his slip-up. "Uh, just a joke," he covered quickly, forcing a laugh. "You know, because they're both bloodsuckers? Haha, get it?" He looked to Willow and Buffy for support, silently pleading with them to play along.

Buffy rolled her eyes, but gave a small nod. "Ignore him," she advised Amy, shooting Xander a pointed look. "He thinks he's funny."

"Hey, I am funny," Xander protested, clutching his chest in mock offense. "You just don't appreciate my genius."

Willow patted his arm consolingly, but he could see the amusement in her eyes. "Sure, Xander. Whatever you say."

Their banter was interrupted by the start of Amber's routine on the floor, the girl executing a series of impressive moves: a needle-split lift, a double spin, and then an aerial followed by a cartwheel. Jazz slides transitioned into a single spin, capturing everyone's attention.

Damn, Xander thought, his eyes widening appreciatively as he watched Amber move. Girl's got some serious skills.

Amy leaned closer to Buffy, her voice low. "She trained with Benson. He's one of the best coaches money can buy."

Buffy looked genuinely surprised as she turned to face Amy. "They have cheerleading coaches?"

"Oh, yeah! Don't you have? I train with my mom, three hours in the morning, three at night," Amy explained, her tone matter-of-fact.

Xander let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Man, and I thought Buffy's training schedule was intense," he muttered, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs from the Slayer in question.

"Ow!" he yelped, rubbing his side with a wounded expression. "What was that for?"

"For being a doofus," Buffy retorted, but there was no real heat behind her words. "And for the record, my training schedule is perfectly reasonable. Right, Will?"

Willow held up her hands, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "Hey, don't drag me into this," she protested, taking a step back. 

Buffy sighed, turning back to Amy with a wry smile. "But honestly, that much quality time with my mom would probably lead to some quality matricide."

Amy chuckled, nodding in understanding. "Oh, I know it's hokey. But she's really great."

Cordelia, still standing by Willow, turned her back to the routine with a scoff, clearly trying to seem unimpressed. Xander rolled his eyes at the display, wondering how someone could be so consistently shallow and self-absorbed.

As Amber's routine escalated in intensity, Xander noticed something odd—a smell in the air that was almost bitter. The hell is that? His gaze narrowed as he tried to identify the source, feeling a tension start to build in his gut.

Something's not right, he thought, his instincts screaming at him to be on guard. There's some weird mojo going on here.

Suddenly, Amber's hands began to smoke. Xander's eyes widened, and he pointed. "What the...?" he started to shout, just as Buffy said the same.

"That girl's on fire!" Willow exclaimed, her voice pitched high with panic.

Cordelia, oblivious and looking away, dismissed Willow with another scoff. "Enough of the hyperbole!" she snapped, clearly not paying attention to the unfolding chaos.

But it was no exaggeration. Amber's hands burst into flames, the smell of burning flesh filling the air. Dropping her pom poms, she screamed in terror, her voice echoing through the gym.

Buffy sprang into action, her Slayer instincts kicking in as she raced towards the burning girl. "Buff!" Xander called out, dashing to the bleachers and pulling down a large banner. He hurled it to Buffy, who caught it on the run and used it to tackle Amber to the ground, smothering the flames with the heavy fabric.

The gym fell silent, every eye fixed on the smoldering banner and the sobbing cheerleader beneath it. Buffy comforted Amber, her voice soft but strained. "It's okay, it's okay, you're gonna be... okay," she murmured, then added under her breath, "God!"

Xander winced as he approached, the pain from hearing the word 'God' spiking through his head. Maybe I shouldn't have called them smoking hot. 

                                                     – o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

"What the hell just happened?" Xander slumped back in his chair at the study table in the library, clearly bewildered. Willow, sitting across from him, looked even more confused and a good bit alarmed by what just happened. "Since when do cheerleaders spontaneously combust?"

Willow shifted uncomfortably, her voice low and tinged with worry. "I don't know, but something tells me this wasn't just a freak accident." Her hands fiddled with the edge of her book, her eyes darting around the library.

Yeah, no kidding, Xander thought. I definitely felt something go down even before it happened. Gotta ask Sam if it’s another weird devil thing.

Buffy paced back and forth, her steps quick and agitated as she turned to face her friends with a serious look. "I've been slaying vampires for more than a year now, and I have seen some pretty cringeworthy things, but... nobody's hands ever got toasted before."

Giles emerged from the library's cage, a dusty tome in hand. "I imagine not," he commented dryly, adjusting his glasses as he walked towards the group.

Oh, great, here comes the G-man with his usual dose of doom and gloom, Xander mused, bracing himself for how there was a secret race of firestarters no one ever heard about. Although, if they all look like Drew Barrymore, that wouldn’t be the worst thing.

"So, this isn't a vampire problem," Buffy concluded, her tone indicating she was piecing together the puzzle.

Giles confirmed her suspicion with a nod. "No," he said simply. 

Buffy spun around to face him as he passed by her. "But it is funky, right? Not of the norm?"

Xander couldn't help but snort at the question. "No, people 'flame on' all the time. Literally every day,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

Giles, choosing to ignore Xander's comment, continued. "Quite. Spontaneous human combustion is, is rare, and, and scientifically unexplainable, but there have been cases for hundreds of years. Usually all that's left is a pile of ashes." He sat on the edge of the table near Willow, his expression sober.

Well, that's comforting, Xander thought sarcastically, trying to ignore the chill that ran down his spine at the thought of being ‘dusted’ like a vampire.

Willow piped up, "That's all that would have been left if it hadn't been for Buffy." Her voice carried a mix of gratitude and fear, her eyes wide as she looked at the Slayer.

Are we forgetting someone? Xander questioned silently, shooting Willow a confused look. "So, we have no idea what caused this. That's a comfort," he said aloud instead, throwing up his hands in mock celebration.

Giles smiled slightly, trying to offer a more optimistic perspective. "But that's the thrill of living on the Hellmouth! There's a veritable cornucopia of, of fiends and devils and, and ghouls to engage." He looked around at the young faces watching him. "Pardon me for finding the glass half full."

Xander raised his hands half-heartedly and cheered, "Devils, yaaaaay." Buffy shot him a look, her eyebrows raised in disapproval. "No yay?" he asked with a head tilt, trying to look innocent.

"Not quite worthy of a yay, Xander," Giles chided gently, his lips twitching with the hint of a smile.

Xander adopted a mock-sad expression, pouting with his arms crossed. "No yay," he repeated, his tone mournful.

Tough crowd, he thought, suppressing a grin.

Buffy, ever focused on the task at hand, turned back to Giles. "Any common denominators in cases of spontaneous combustion?"

Giles thought for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Uh, rage. In most cases, the person who combusted was terribly angry or upset."

"So maybe Amber's got this power to make herself be on fire. It's like the Human Torch, only it hurts," Xander pondered out loud, gesturing as he spoke.

Buffy nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I need to get the skinny on Amber. Find out if she's had any colorful episodes before." She started towards the stairs but paused as Willow stood up.

Willow beamed, excited to contribute. "That means hacking illegally into the school's computer system." She stood up with a pep in her step, almost bounding over to Buffy. "At last, something I can do!"

Go, Willow! Xander cheered silently, proud of his friend's enthusiasm and skills. That’s our resident computer whiz.

He stood up, ready to play his part. "I'll ask around about her," he offered, eager to help in any way he could.

Buffy hesitated, her concern for her friends evident. "You guys don't have to get involved."

Xander grinned. "What d'ya mean? We're a team! Aren't we a team?"

Willow chimed in, her enthusiasm clear. "Yeah! You're the Slayer, and we're, like, the Slayerettes!"

…we’ll workshop it, Will. Xander tilted his head to the side.

Buffy sighed, her voice soft but firm. "I just don't like putting you guys in danger."

Xander laughed lightly. "Oh, huh, I laugh in the face of danger. Then I kick it square in the nuts," he declared, striking a heroic pose.

“I’m sure.” Buffy gave a small smile. "Okay, just walk softly, at least until we know a little more. I mean, what if Amber isn't causing these problems herself?"

Good point, Xander thought, sobering up slightly. 

Giles added thoughtfully, "Well, then we have to determine who or what did, and, uh, deal with it accordingly."

Xander nodded. No problem.

                                                     – o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

No problem, my left buttcheek, Xander thought sardonically as he jogged down the street, his breath catching in his throat not just from the exercise but from the sheer ridiculousness of his situation.

Asking around about Amber had been as fruitful as a desert cactus. The pretty and popular crowd had given him weird looks, their eyes glazing over the moment he mentioned anything slightly out of the ordinary. Fun fact: the pretty and the popular tend to look down on my kind, weird skater guys who have a reputation for throwing around pop culture references and snarking. It was a harsh reality, but one he was all too familiar with.

Story of my life, Xander mused, shaking his head as he continued his jog, dodging pedestrians and the occasional stray dog.

With the case of the spontaneously combusting cheerleader momentarily on holdXander found his thoughts drifting to his so-called new job. Or at least, what he assumed was supposed to be a job.

Sam, his mysterious and infuriatingly elusive so-called 'master,' had barely even been paying attention to him all throughout the week, leaving him alone with Buffy and Willow. Apart from seeing him at times in the halls, he'd be wondering if he hallucinated the whole thing. Hell, the last time they had interacted was a few days back when Sam had pressed a ruby-red pager into his hands with a firm, "don't lose it," before disappearing into the crowd.

A pager, really? Xander thought, honestly confused. He’s a devil. Can’t he just speak to me through mirrors or something like that?

If he didn't know any better, he would think Sam didn't really want anything to do with him anymore. Which was both a relief and a frustration. Just what had he signed up for?

The final school bell had rung not twenty minutes ago, its echo still bouncing in his ears as he stood up from his seat when the pager had beeped to life in his pocket. Fumbling to read the message, he had groaned at the terse command: [Red bldng at end of Maple Ct, nxt 2 mall. Get here.] Now here he was, running across town because, for some unfathomable reason, he had forgotten his skateboard at home.

Guess even half-devils can have off days, Xander thought wryly, his lungs burning as he pushed himself to keep running. Or maybe I'm just naturally forgetful. Who knows?

The worst part was that his supposed superpowers were apparently solar-powered... or technically the opposite, considering they didn't kick in until after sunset. Which meant that for the majority of the day, he was just plain old Xander. No enhanced strength, no supernatural speed, nothing. No more Spider-Xan or Super-Xan or Captain Xanmerica. ...Okay, maybe that last one's a stretch.

Figures, Xander grumbled internally, his legs starting to ache as he turned a corner, the mall coming into view in the distance. I finally get powers, and they come with a reverse curfew.

Feeling cheated was an understatement. He hadn't given up his soul—at least he hoped not, despite what the literal devil had told him. But what was the point if he couldn't use his new powers when he actually needed them, like sprinting across town or, more importantly, dunking a basketball?

I swear, if this turns out to be some kind of prank or hazing ritual, I'm gonna be pissed, Xander thought, his jaw clenching as he pushed himself to run even faster, the red brick building growing closer with each step. I did not sign up to be the devil's errand boy… or did I?

By the time he reached the designated location, he was panting, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead and his shirt clinging uncomfortably to his back. The building he stood before was a stark, red brick structure starkly out of place opposite the gleaming modernity of Sunnydale Mall. In red and black gothic lettering, the sign atop the building read [Rosen Queen Co.] and right below that in smaller signage, the words [Sunnydale Branch] .

Rosen Queen Co.? Xander thought, frowning as he stared up at the unfamiliar name. Never heard of it. Then again, I haven't exactly been keeping up with the local business directory.

He glanced around, taking in the empty street and the quiet surroundings. The mall was bustling with activity, shoppers and teenagers milling about, but this little commercial section across the mall seemed almost deserted.

Xander paused, taking a moment to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his forehead. “'So, this is what he's always so busy with across town.” Shrugging his shoulders, he held open the front door. “Time to see what fresh hell awaits me on the other side.” And like that, he walked in.

Xander stepped inside the Rosen Queen Company's Sunnydale Branch, the door closing softly behind him with a click that echoed slightly in the expansive lobby. 'Huh,' he thought, raising an eyebrow as he surveyed his surroundings, 'Not what I expected honestly.'

A blast of air conditioning greeted him as he entered, powerful and brisk. It swept over him like a wave, chilling the sweat on his skin that Sunnydale's relentless heat had inflicted. Oh, sweet, sweet AC, Xander thought, letting out a soft sigh of relief as the cool air washed over him. I could get used to this.

The lobby was strikingly designed, with ceilings tiled in a vibrant red that contrasted sharply with the glossy black vinyl floors. The walls, painted an unobtrusive off-white, seemed almost to recede, making the bold colors pop even more. Above, fluorescent lights buzzed softly, casting a bright glow that reflected off the shiny surfaces.

Wow, they really went all out with the red and black theme, Xander mused, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the decor. It's like they're trying to scream 'we’re run by the devil' without actually saying it.

Compounding the surreal atmosphere was the music that played softly in the background. It was an odd, melodic tune, as if half a dozen different ice cream trucks were playing at once and somehow sounding... good. "Weird," Xander muttered under his breath, his gaze sweeping across the room.

If this is what hell sounds like, it's a lot more pleasant than I imagined, he thought, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then again, I always figured there'd be more screaming and less... whatever this is.

"Hello!" The sudden voice made Xander jump slightly, his heart skipping a beat as he whirled around to face the source of the sound. It was feminine and melodic, slicing through the odd music and drawing his attention immediately.

Jesus, warn a guy next time, Xander thought, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. I'm already on edge here, I don't need any more surprises.

Xander turned towards the source of the voice, his eyes landing on a black reception desk situated against a bright red tiled wall. A large sign with the building's name hung in gothic lettering, starkly black against the red backdrop. Behind the desk stood a short young woman with dirty-blond hair styled in a pixie cut. She wore a tight red-and-black leather dress that seemed almost out of place for an office setting, her smile inviting as she noticed Xander approaching.

Holy... okay, that's definitely not standard receptionist attire, Xander thought, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the woman's outfit. Unless this is some kind of weird demon dress code or something.

As Xander moved closer, he noticed how bright her eyes were and, more noticeably, there were slight ridges raised on both her cheeks, giving her a literally otherworldly look. "Welcome to the Rosen Queen Company, Sunnydale Branch. I'm Tana. How may I assist you today?" Her voice was as inviting as her smile, her eyes lowered lustfully.

Okay, that's definitely not normal, Xander thought, swallowing hard as he felt his face heat up under the receptionist's gaze. Unless she's just really, really friendly. Or... oh God, is she flirting with me?

Stumbling over his words, Xander struggled to form a coherent response. 'Work, brain, I'm begging you, work!' he pleaded internally, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment. Don't make me look like an idiot in front of the hot demon receptionist.

"Do you have an appointment?" Tana continued, the receptionist licking her lips as she looked Xander up and down, her gaze lingering on certain areas longer than others.

Oh God, she is flirting with me, Xander realized, his eyes widening even further as he felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck. Okay, play it cool, Harris. You've got this.

"I..." Xander gulped, his voice squeaking slightly as he tried to remember why he was there. "Uh, Sam told me to come here."

Smooth, real smooth, he chided himself, resisting the urge to facepalm. Way to impress the lady with your eloquence and wit.

Tana's expression shifted from professional curiosity to recognition. "Sam?" She paused, her mouth forming a small 'o' of realization. "You mean, Mr. Ash? Oh, you're his 3 pm!"

Mr. Ash? Xander thought, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. Since when does Sam go by 'Mr. Ash'? 

"...yes?" Xander replied, still not entirely sure what that meant but going with it. Just play it cool, Harris, he reasoned, nodding slowly.

She pointed towards a door across the lobby. "Up the stairs and right down the hall. You can't miss it," she instructed with a nod, her professional demeanor returning as she offered him a final smile.

Stairs, hall, can't miss it, Xander repeated in his head, trying to commit the directions to memory. Got it. I think.

"...thanks," Xander managed, his voice steadier now as he nodded back, offering Tana a small smile of his own before turning towards the door.

Xander made his way up the stairs to the second floor slowly at first, but more quickly after the first landing. He could feel the shift in atmosphere with every echoing step, the air somehow growing warmer with every step, yet somehow even more comfortable than the air conditioned coolness of the lobby. As he exited the stairwell, he was greeted by a hallway that maintained the same stark design; the ceilings a vivid red, the walls a clean off-white, and the floor a glossy black. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a bright but harsh light, making the reds seem even more intense.

Walking down the hallway, Xander couldn’t help but feel like he was moving through a scene from a stylish noir film—only with a color palette that aggressively favored red and black. He approached a bright red door framed in black, unmistakable among the otherwise plain hallway decorations. On the door, a black plate with red lettering displayed the name "Samuel L. Ash VI." Man, this guy is riding the red and black theme into the ground.

Rolling his eyes, he raised his hand to knock but was interrupted by a familiar drawling voice from the other side, "It's open."

Pushing the door open, Xander stepped inside and found himself unsurprised by the continuity of the color scheme. The large office was decked out in the same red and black theme as the rest of the building. Sam was sprawled comfortably behind a black-and-red desk, in a black vest and tie along with a red shirt, lounging in a black leather office chair that looked both ridiculously expensive and supremely comfortable. He looked up at Xander with a broad smile, spreading his arms wide. "What do you think?"

Xander paused, taking in the room with a critical eye before landing his gaze back on Sam. "... I think you're homesick." 

Sam barked out a laugh, waving his hand to guide Xander into a chair. "See, that's why I like you, Xan Man. You make me laugh."

"Oh goody, I give the devil the giggles," Xander deadpanned, sinking into one of the chairs in front of the desk. The leather felt cool against his back. "Maybe when I die, I'll get the soft pitchfork in my kiester."

"See, that's what I mean," Sam grinned, the amusement clear in his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him. "Always a quip. You know how rare that is? I mean, to do with feeling? You're actually scared out of your mind and the only way you can fight that is to joke your way through it."

Xander shifted in his seat, his expression a mix of confusion and hesitant pride. "...thanks?" he ventured, unsure whether he was being complimented or critiqued. I mean, it's not like I try to be funny, he thought, his brow furrowing slightly. It's just how I cope. Better than curling up in a ball and crying, right?

Sam's expression turned serious, his smirk fading into a more business-like demeanor as he leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "Don't thank me yet. I've got work for you."

"Finally," Xander blurted out before he could stop himself, relief and excitement mixing in his voice. It's about time, he thought, straightening up in his chair.

Sam paused, raising an eyebrow at Xander's outburst, the look on his face unreadable.

"Just wondering when you'd actually have me start doing devil stuff, you know," Xander added quickly.

"...now," Sam stated flatly.

"Just wondering," Xander repeated  defensively, raising his hands in a placating gesture. Okay, maybe a little too eager there.

"Well, no more wondering," Sam replied, standing up from his chair and walking around the side of his desk to lean against it, arms crossed over his chest. "You're officially an employee of Rosen Queen, same as Tana downstairs, but with more authority."

Xander perked up at that, his eyes widening slightly. "...do I get an office?" he asked, half-joking but also half-serious. Please say yes, please say yes, he chanted in his head, already imagining himself lounging behind a big fancy desk, feet propped up as he barked orders at underlings.

"...We'll see."

Xander couldn't help the grin that spread across his face at the possibility. "Nice," he said, his gaze wandering around the office, taking in every detail before settling back on Sam.

“Wait,” a thought occurred to him, his brow furrowing. "What does this place even do anyway?" he asked, gesturing at the room around them.

Sam pushed off from the desk, allowing Xander to see his outfit in full. The dreadhead was dressed in a matching pair of black dress pants to match his vest, and a pair of red leather shoes on his feet to round out the entire outfit. Snazzy, Xander thought, taking in the devil's attire. Guess even hell has a dress code.

"We, the Rosen Queen Company, are something of a retail corporation with a focus on specialty items catering to the supernatural and the supernaturally inclined," Sam explained, his voice taking on a slightly more formal tone.

"Demon Wal-Mart, got it," Xander quipped, absorbing the information quickly. Makes sense, he thought, nodding to himself. Even demons need to shop, I guess.

"...pretty much," Sam admitted with a resigned sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly.

Xander's grin widened, sensing an opportunity for more banter. "And my job is, what, to be a greeter?" he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Cause I think the hottie at the front could do a better job than I ever could."

Sam's expression shifted again, blue eyes narrowing slightly. "No," he replied slowly, his tone slightly amused as he eyed Xander across the desk. "That's not your job. And also, if Tana hits on you, don't encourage her."

Xander's eyebrows shot up. "Why?" he asked, his grin turning mischievous as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Is it 'cause she's too old for me?"

"Homie, we're devils, you're old enough. I really don't care," Sam shot back, his hand slicing through the air dismissively. His expression was serious, though, a hint of warning in his tone. "It's just that she's a Vimite demon. You don't have the durability or stamina to handle what she'll do to you."

Xander's eyes widened, a mix of intrigue and apprehension crossing his face. Not the worst way to go, though, he thought, his imagination briefly taking a wild turn before snapping back to the conversation. Death by sexy demon secretary.

"I don't need to read your mind to read your face. No fraternizing with my help," Sam added sharply, catching Xander's momentarily distracted gaze.

"Aw," Xander shook his head, feigning disappointment even as he mentally filed away the knowledge of Tana's demonic nature for later. Probably best not to mess with that, he admitted to himself, deciding to look through Giles’ books later. At least not until I know what I'm dealing with.

"Whatever, I'll live," he said aloud, shrugging. "What's my job again?" he asked, redirecting the topic back to the important stuff.

"Simple," Samuel snapped his fingers, and a piece of paper appeared in his hand in a flash of red. "You handle contracts," Sam continued, holding up the paper for Xander to see. It was covered in strange symbols and runes.

"Hmm, Hmm," Xander nodded thoughtfully, pretending to understand what he was looking at for a moment. "...and contracts are?"

Sam smirked. "Short answer: I have some people hand out flyers with these runic circles on them to the greedy and supernaturally aware folks in town. People drop some blood on them when they wanna make a wish. Devil shows up, wish gets answered, you get some power from the deal, and as your King, so do I."

Xander processed the information quickly, nodding in understanding. Okay, so demonic Make a Wish, got it, he thought, his mind racing with the possibilities. Except instead of getting a trip to Disneyland, you get... anything else you want? "Alright, easy peasy," he said aloud, rubbing his hands together. "Where do I go?"

"Well, traditionally, I'd have a magic circle set up to teleport you to your contractor," Sam explained, his voice taking on a teasing tone that made Xander's stomach sink.

"...traditionally?" Xander echoed, a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. "Meaning not currently."

"Yeah, I figured you could use the exercise," Samuel grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ever heard of Uncle Bob's Magic Cabinet?" His grin widened as he tossed the contract paper at Xander, who caught it with a fumbling grasp.

Xander let out a groan, slumping in his chair as he recalled the place. "That's all the way on the north side of town.”

"You better start running, then."