The Devil Went Down to Sunnydale VII (Patreon)

Chapter VII: Hate This Town II

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

Cemetery #9

February 20th

Before Midnight

Another eerie night as the full moon shined down on a foggy graveyard within the confines of Sunnydale — one of many — had a decrepit roofless mausoleum occupied by four creatures of the night, their figures casting long, sinister shadows among the crumbling tombstones. Hunched on the floor, they were surrounded with the artifacts of their sinister unlife, seeking unholy enjoyment in ways the average person would recoil in disgust from.

"Greg, you have approached the throne of chance. Do you want to roll again…?" A chubby Asian vampire girl asked, her voice a little playful as she glanced at the boy to her left, a set of dice ready in her hand, “... or test your luck against the winds of fate?”

“I dunno, if my luck was good, I don’t think I’d be a vampire right now,” Greg mused out loud, one of his hands playing absently with a die while the other held two cards to his face. 

Steve — the chubby Asian boy to Greg’s left — shrugged, his own card-free hand brushing mausoleum dirt off his white shirt. “You got a point. I’d roll again, if it was me,” he advised.

Greg nodded quickly before shooting a glance at Lisette, their resident Dungeon Master. “Let me roll agai-”

“What do you three think you’re doing?” interrupted the only member of their group not currently sitting on the floor immersed in role-playing. Her voice came out as a growl as she stomped forward, eyes yellow and face monstrously vampiric. 

"It's Thursday night. We always play games on Thursday nights," Lisette responded hesitantly, pushing her glasses up her nose as she looked up at her goth friend.

“Not anymore we don’t!” The girl in the leather jacket shouted angrily, her visible frustration boiling over as she kicked over the board. Cards, figurines, and dice scattered across the floor of the mausoleum, effectively ending their game night.

"When we were human, we played games for hours,” Lisette stared up as Hester stood over her, the angry girl’s hands on her hips. “Why do things have to be different now?" 

"Because we're vampires!” Hester snarled, her voice rough as gravel. The girl reared forward with her fist raised in her friend’s face, the pigtailed Asian rearing back in fear. “Creatures of the night!" Shaking her head in frustration, Hester stood up straight again and crossed her arms over her chest. “We don’t sit around playing nerdy games.”

Her three friends remained sitting and kneeling on the ground, all of them staring back at the aggressive goth with sheepish, nervous, firmly cowed expressions. Sighing heavily, Hester released her game face, brown eyes replacing unholy yellow as she rolled them. “Now, do you guys wanna hear Plan A or not?”

“Sure…” “...yeah.” “Okay.” All three responded meekly, clearly into this for the sole purpose of not being yelled at again.

“Great,” Hester said, turning back to her easel where a dry erase board was perched. She tapped a marker against the board, pointing to a series of poorly drawn doodles. “If we attack the Slayer under the cover of night, we can overwhelm her with our superior numbers," she asserted confidently, her voice cutting through the chill night air as she pointed to her poorly done doodles. "There's four of us and one of her. Can't believe no one's thought of this before.”

Steven frowned, the gears in his head turning as he considered Hester’s plan. “But they’d have to have.”

Hester whirled around, her brow furrowing as she gripped the red dry erase marker tightly in one hand. “What?”

"I-i m-mean, you know, i-it's just..." Steven stuttered for a few seconds, the boy glancing desperately at his cousin for help. Lisette only waved her hands, unsure what he expected her to say and not willing to contradict Hester.

Hester leaned in closer, her voice tense as she spoke through gritted teeth. "What?"

Taking a deep breath, Steve decided to speak his mind. "I-it just doesn't make sense when you think about it, y'know? The Slayer's been in Sunnydale for like, a month, I think? And before that, rumor says she killed like a whole gym full of vampires in Los Angeles?" He shook his head, trying to convey the gravity of what he was saying. "It just... it just doesn't make sense if you think about it for like thirty seconds."

If vampires could flush, Hester definitely would have, the girl looking affronted by the good criticism. "L-look, Steven, it's about numbers, okay? We outnumber her, it's that simple!"

Unfortunately for her, the chubby Asian boy in rectangular classes wasn’t going to let go of the point that easily. “Hess, I know strategy games and even there, numbers aren’t everything,” He adjusted his glasses as he stood up, a sign that the normally quiet new vampire was digging in his heels. “Like, she’s The Slayer, like capitalized and with a The in front of it for a reason. She’s stronger than vampires and way more skilled and trained too.”

Hester stood there, fuming as Steven spoke, clearly unsure of how to counter his points.

“Like actually trained in magic kung fu, probably,” the vampire teen continued. “Vamps treat her like a big deal for a reason. We can't just rush in like dummies.”

Lisette chimed in, her voice tentative but firm. "Steven’s right, Hester. It's not just about attacking; it's about being smart. We need a plan that’s more than just... attacking in a group."

Hester's face showed her frustration as her initial confidence began to crumble under the weight of her friends' rational arguments. She paced back and forth, her boots kicking up small clouds of dust in the mausoleum, kicking aside old game consoles and fallen comic posters. "Fine, then what do you suggest we do, huh? We can't just sit around playing games forever!"

Greg, usually not one to speak at all, decided to chime in " I dunno, maybe find a way to weaken her first or something."

“Hmm.” Hester turned decisively away from the group, her gaze set on the dark horizon. "So… Plan B it is."

“Plan B?” the other three asked in unison, all of them blinking in confusion.

“Plan B.” The goth whirled around in full vampire face, a back flier held high in her hand to show off the red circle written in some strange language on the back. “...who knows were we can get some gold?”

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

The Next Day

Xander sauntered down the hallway, weaving through the crowd of students milling about before class. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a harsh glow on the sea of faces he passed. Lockers slammed shut, the metallic clangs mixing with the chatter and laughter that echoed off the walls. Just another day in the ol' Hellmouth High, he thought, smirking to himself.

As he approached Buffy's locker, he spotted the familiar blonde and redhead duo, huddled together like they were plotting world domination. Or maybe just gossiping about the latest fashion trends. With Buffy and Willow, you never knew.

"My favorite blonde and my favorite redhead, together again?" Xander gave them both a lopsided grin, head tilted slightly to the side as he walked up to the two girls. "What's the occasion?"

Willow giggled as Buffy rolled her eyes playfully, said blonde shooting him a look. "The occasion is school, something we all hate."

"Speak for yourself," Willow said back with a grin, her eyes sparkling.

"Yeah, Buff," Xander replied, in as faux-serious a tone as he could manage, face straight and resolute. "Some of us actually take our education seriously." He placed a hand over his heart, as if deeply offended by the mere suggestion of disliking the hallowed halls of Sunnydale High.

Willow shot him her own look of disbelief, the girl barely able to keep herself from laughing. Buffy rolled her eyes at him again. "Haha, what is this, 'Pick on Buffy Day'?"

Xander held his wrist up, a serious look still fixed on his face as he pretended to check a nonexistent watch. "Well… it is Friday, so yeah." He nodded solemnly, as if confirming a universal truth.

"...I have no idea how my life would be without your amazing sense of humor, Xander," Buffy finally replied, looking as if she was physically holding herself back from a third eye roll.

"Don't worry, Buff, it's not just you," he declared triumphantly, grinning like an idiot. "The world would be worse off without me."

"I think you mean better off," Willow chimed in, her smile taking the sting out of her words.

Xander clutched at his chest, staggering back as if he'd been shot. "Et tu, Willow? Betrayed by my own best friend. The pain, the agony!"

Buffy and Willow exchanged amused glances, shaking their heads at his antics. Tough crowd, Xander thought, straightening up and smoothing out his shirt. Gotta step up my game.

"Jokes aside," the small blonde said, pulling a book from her locker and putting it in her backpack, "anyone know what happened to Mr. Blake?"

Willow, who was rummaging through her own backpack, looked up, puzzled. "Who's Mr. Blake?"

"The Home Ec teacher?" Buffy explained, her brow furrowing as she thought about her next semester's schedule. "I wanted to sign up for his after-school class for extra credit, something to pad out the classes I missed or sleep through with the slayage, you know."

Xander hummed to himself, his expression neutral as he responded, "No idea, Buffster." The lie slipped out surprisingly easily, something he'd been surprised by the last few weeks. He couldn't very well tell them that Mr. Blake wouldn't be showing up anytime soon, and that said Mr. Blake was a tiger demon planning on eating anyone who signed up for his extra credit class.

Or that he had to slay said tiger demon. Too many questions, and I don't have the patience. He suppressed a shudder, remembering the feeling of using a butcher’s knife to tear into demonic flesh, the spray of blood that had coated yet another shirt. Note to self: invest in some stain remover.

Willow tilted her head, concern clear on her face. "You okay, Xander? You look a little… off."

"Hm?" Xander raised an eyebrow, trying to act confused. Shit. "Probably nothing, might not be getting a lot of sleep recently." While that little tidbit was true, Xander didn't feel it necessary to mention that his new Devil status came with a lessened need for sleep, especially with all the energy that came with his powers coming back in full force at night.

Buffy, seeming to pick up on something, nodded understandingly. "If you're feeling tired, you should try and fix that. Don't want you fainting on us."

The teenage boy snorted. "If I find myself catching the vapors, I'll do my best to let you know." He fanned himself dramatically, batting his eyelashes.

The three of them snort and laugh, as Xander's attempt at a Southern Belle broke whatever seriousness they were trying to hold on to. Surrounded by the noise of so many other students, the sounds of three students laughing were almost unnoticeable, that is until a slight hush came over the entire hallway.

Xander glanced up and to his left, the sight of Cordelia Chase, Harmony Kendall, and Aura White, the three girls dressed up as they usually were but still incredibly pretty and done up. Damn, Xander snapped his fingers in front of his chest, if only they weren't evil bitches.

As if reading his mind, Cordelia shot him a look and frowned, the expression on her face managing to approach something that could only be termed disdainful grace, as expected of the queen bee of the school's social hive. "Oh my God, looks like some boys can't help but be a constant fashion disaster. At least the rest of them try," the brunette said with a laugh, tossing her hair back like she was in a shampoo commercial.

Xander glanced down at his outfit, a baggy white tee from the convenience store and simple baggy blue jeans. What's wrong with my outfit? he thought, furrowing his brow. It's not like I'm trying to win any fashion awards here. The Harris boy opened his mouth to shoot another jab back at the queen bee before she walked off, but he was interrupted by something else.

The teenager felt his eye twitch as he saw Harmony, with a mischievous glint in her eye that screamed 'I'm about to do something stupid and think it's clever', saunter past Willow, who was balancing a small stack of books. With an obviously calculated bump, the blonde sent his friend's books scattering across the floor along with her backpack. "I'm sooooo sorry, that was so clumsy of me," she chirped insincerely, barely suppressing a laugh as she continued on her way, looking far too pleased with herself for someone who just committed an act of minor violence.

Cordelia, a little bit ahead, kept walking with a smirk plastered across her face, clearly enjoying the show. Of course she's in on it, Xander thought, his jaw clenching. Queen C probably put Harmony up to it in the first place.

Willow knelt to gather her books, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and frustration. Buffy watched it all with a growing scowl, her hands curling into fists at her sides as she made to step forward and confront the three. Only to find herself blinking in slight confusion as Xander quickly stomped ahead of her, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced by something harder, more serious.

Stepping assertively in front of Harmony, Cordelia, and Aura, his usual goofy expression hardened, smile a thin blank line. "Harmony, go back and say sorry," he demanded, voice firm and brow furrowed. He crossed his arms over his chest, leveling the blonde with a look that said 'I'm not messing around'.

Harmony rolled her eyes as she looked at him, her expression twisting into a mock-confusion that might have been more convincing if she wasn't visibly sneering at the same time. "What are you talking about? I said sorry," she scoffed back at him, tone dripping with feigned innocence. She examined her nails, as if the whole situation was beneath her.

"Yeah, and this time I want you to mean it," Xander demanded again, his voice taking on an edge that even he wasn't used to hearing from himself. "Go say sorry."

The directness in Xander's voice seemed to make Harmony shrink slightly, clearly never having expected this from the class clown. She hesitated, her confident facade crumbling under his stern gaze, and cast a glance at Cordelia for help, like a lost puppy looking for guidance.

The Chase girl, always ready to assert her dominance, stepped forward, eyes narrowed as she showed Harmony what a real sneer looked like. "Listen here, you worthless dork, I-" she began, voice sharp enough to cut glass.

But Xander cut her off without even looking her way, his attention fixed on Harmony. "Cordelia, I know this might be hard to understand, but not everything's about you. Keep walking," he interjected, his tone dismissive yet harsh all the same. Wow, where did that come from? he thought, momentarily surprised at his own boldness. Guess even I have my limits.

The brunette seemed to visibly bristle at the brush off, like an angered cat with its fur standing on end. Her mouth snapped shut as her fists tightened slightly at her sides, perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms. "Excuse me?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

Xander ignored her, stepping a little closer to Harmony, the blonde stepping back slightly, as if trying to escape his gaze. "Apologize. Now," the words came out lower than he'd ever heard his voice, an odd gravel slipping into it that he didn't recognize.

Harmony gulped, her eyes wide as she looked at Xander like she was seeing him for the first time. With a reluctant shuffle, she turned back toward the confused redhead watching it all from her spot on the floor. Her head hung low, and in a small, subdued voice, Harmony muttered, "I'm sorry," to a still-kneeling Willow.

"Uh… no problem?" Willow said back, her brow furrowed in confusion as Harmony walked back to the other two popular girls, this time avoiding Xander's eyes purposely. Buffy simply blinked, unsure what she was looking at, her mouth slightly agape.

But Cordelia wasn't willing to let this go, especially with everyone watching. She scoffed loudly and tossed her hair back, the picture of indignation. "What? Your balls finally drop, and you think it makes you a man to yell at girls now?" Her words were sharp, obviously intended to sting, to put Xander back in his place.

Gonna have to try harder than that, Cordy, Xander thought, merely rolling his eyes, a gesture of dismissal as he turned his back on Cordelia and strode back towards Willow.

"Don't walk away from me, Harris!" Cordelia called after him, her voice tinged with a mix of anger and disbelief, as if she couldn't comprehend someone not bowing to her whims.

Xander continued, unfazed, kneeling down beside Willow to help her gather the last of her books. "I'm talking to you!" Cordelia's voice rang out again, louder this time, echoing off the lockers.

But Xander kept ignoring her, glancing up at a still stunned Buffy before looking back at Willow, a smile breaking across his face, "Bronze tonight?"


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

The Bronze was crowded after sunset — like that was news. When there’s only one decent club in town where kids under twenty-one can hear music, drink coffee, dance, and hang out, it’s likely to draw a crowd.

Buffy Summers and Willow Rosenberg turned away from the pastry counter. Buffy carried a croissant and a soda. Willow settled for a box of raisins. She’s preoccupied, Buffy thought. It didn’t take a genius to figure out with what. 

As far as Will was concerned, the sun rose and set with Xander.

She’d felt that way since they were both five years old — a little young for serious romance, but maybe not for a first crush. Even at the time, though, she’d thought it was true love, recognizing that the relationship was not all she hoped for only when Xander broke her Barbie.

Even that, I forgave him, Willow thought, with a rueful smile. Even that.

But in all the years since then, while they’d remained steadfast friends, that was just about as good as she got. 

Xander, her best buddy. 

Xander, the guy who would complain to her when he was having girl trouble.

Never seeming to realize what he could have had.

“I thought Xander would be here by now,” Willow said as they threaded their way toward an open table.

“That’d make him on time,” Buffy replied wryly, quirking her lips slightly. “We couldn’t have that.”

The redhead turned to face her friend, a slightly worried expression clear on her face. “Did he say where he was going?

“No?” Buffy mused. “Just said he was gonna pick up some new clothes. So, the mall maybe?”

“I don’t know,” Willow said. “He never shops at the mall. Was he acting weird?”

Buffy slid onto a seat at one of the chest-high tables. “I didn’t notice anything. But then again, I’m not as hyper-aware of him as, oh, say, for example, you.”

“Hyper-aware?” Willow asked, taking the stool across from Buffy’s.

“Well,” Buffy said. “I’m not constantly monitoring his health, his moods, his blood pressure —”

Willow knew that one, even though it had been a month since last check. “One-thirty over eighty.”

Buffy laughed, the girl slapping the table lightly. “You got it bad, girl.”

“He makes my head go tingly. You know what I mean?”

“I dimly recall,” Buffy said, gaze cast toward the ceiling.

“Still don’t feel the tingles lately?”

Buffy offered her redheaded friend a shrug, unsure why asking the same question a day later would change anything. “Not really.”

“Not even for a dangerous and mysterious older man whose leather jacket you’re wearing right now?”

Buffy glanced at the jacket Angel had given her. Angel, the tall, dark, mystery hunk whose life kept intersecting with hers in the oddest ways. He had told her that the jacket looked better on her — which wasn’t, strictly speaking, even close to true. It was way out of place, for instance, with the pale green dress she was wearing tonight. And yet, she had barely taken it off since he’d given it to her.

“It goes with the shoes,” she insisted, doing her very best to keep a blush off her face.

“Come on,” Willow said, having none of it. “Angel pushes your buttons. You know he does.”

“I suppose some girls might think he’s good looking,” Buffy relented. “If they … have eyes. All right, he’s a honey.” Understatement of the month club, she thought. She didn’t want to let on to Willow, though. The poor girl thought the whole situation was terribly romantic, but there was still that Slayer thing to contend with. Makes dating a little complicated. “But he’s never around, and when he is all he wants to do is talk about vampires, and I just can’t have a relationship —”

Willow interrupted with an excited, “There he is!”

Buffy’s head swiveled as Willow stood up straight. “Angel?”

“Xander!”

Then Buffy saw him too, eyebrows going up as she spotted him sauntering over, the teenage boy smiling, winking, and casting long looks at young women in his path that they returned. If that wasn’t something different, the clothes definitely were. “That’s a new look for him.”

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

Xander strolled into The Bronze, rolling his shoulders as he tried to get used to the feeling of his brand new outfit. The leather jacket hugged his frame just right, the dark denim jeans fitting like a second skin. Is this what it's like to get things tailored to fit? he wondered, glancing down at himself. He couldn't help the frown that tugged at his lips, a realization settling in. No wonder Cordy looks at me like a rube most of the time. Probably thinks I shop exclusively at the Sunnydale Salvation Army.



The clothes were brand-spanking-new, as in he had literally put them on half an hour ago, shortly after he bought them. Cordelia picking on him for his outfit earlier in the day, combined with losing so many clothes to demons and vampires lately, had left him in desperate need of a wardrobe update. Guess that's what I get for trying to fight the forces of darkness in flannel and baggy jeans, he mused, shaking his head. Not exactly the height of fashion or function.

It was on a whim that he had decided to stop by the Rosen Queen, hoping they could provide him with something a bit more fashionable.

Sturdy, too, but he was hoping to look cool more than practical.

Despite having been working there for weeks now, he hadn’t taken a chance to look at what the store had to offer, too busy dusting fresh vampires and hunting whatever demon was dumb enough to eat people in his vicinity.

But then when he finally did take a look today- "What the hell?" 

His poor devil eyes nearly popped out of his head when he read through the catalog Tana, the seductive receptionist, had given him to browse through. 

500 bucks? For a pair of shoes? And that was for one of the least expensive items in the catalog, the literal cheapest pair of kicks they sold. These prices are the most evil thing in this town, forget about the Hellmouth. Highway robbery, I tell ya!

Thankfully, Tana had calmly let him know about his employee discount, a whopping 50% off, but even still… Why does a freakin' notebook cost one hundred dollars? What's it made of, gold-plated paper? It took him a few good minutes of sitting in silence, jaw clenched tight, to remember that he had at least ten grand saved up with the Rosen Queen. The office also functioned as something of a demon bank, apparently — at least for him. Perks of being one of two Devils in good ol’ Sunnyhell.

Even still, he had been very hesitant to actually buy anything, his frugal nature warring with his desire to not look like a total dweeb, until Tana told him that all the clothes Rosen Queen sold were both magically durable and came with magical pockets. Magical pockets? Like, bigger on the inside, 'let me just pull a rabbit out of my hat' pockets? 

Really, that was all the push he needed. Imagine the snacks I could smuggle into class with those babies.

Picking out the clothes and shoes he wanted had been a breeze after that, and he was ready to go home and change before heading to the Bronze. That is, until Tana told him that his clothes were already ready. 

As in, the ones he had just picked out and paid for minutes ago, suddenly tailored to his exact measurements and specifications. The grin that had spread across his face then was almost evil, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. God, I love devil magic.

The thumping beat of the music drew Xander out of his thoughts as he made his way further into the club, the flashing lights and bodies on the dance floor assaulting his enhanced senses. He winced slightly, the volume a bit too loud for his liking now that his hearing was kicked up to eleven. Probably should've brought earplugs, he thought, trying to tune out the worst of the noise. Or invested in a pair of those magic noise-canceling headphones. Wonder if Rosen Queen sells those too?

"Hey there," Xander called out as he made his way up to a slightly confused-looking Buffy and a wide-eyed Willow, both girls sitting at the counter. He draped an arm over Buffy's shoulder, the small blonde raising an eyebrow at the sudden contact, and gave Will a peck on the cheek—the redhead letting out a surprised squeak—before leaning back against the counter with a sigh. "How's my two favorite girls in the world doing on this fine Sunnydale evening?"

Buffy glanced at Willow, his old friend looking somewhat dazed for some reason, her cheeks tinged pink, before glancing back at him. "Nothing much, just waiting for you to grace us with your presence, Xan-Man." Her tone was teasing, a small smirk playing on her lips.

Xan-Man, huh? That’s new from the Buffster, Xander thought, grinning. "Did I keep you guys waiting?" he asked, putting on his best apologetic face. "I'm sorry, took a bit longer than I thought to get ready. You know how it is, gotta look my best for my best girls."

"No worries, we were just talking about... girl stuff," Buffy said with a shrug, her eyes darting to the dazed Willow for a moment.

Girl stuff? What's that supposed to mean? Xander wondered, but decided not to pry.

Buffy gave him a once-over, her gaze lingering on his new threads. "Nice clothes, by the way. Very hip."

Xander let out a chuckle, brushing his nose with his thumb as he tried not to look too smug over his clothes while also fighting back tears over the fact that his entire outfit cost him two thousand of his hard-earned demon-killing dollarydoos. "Oh, these old things?" he said, going for nonchalant. "Just something I threw on, you know how it is."

"Old?" Willow finally snapped out of her odd daze to blink at Xander, her brow furrowed. "I've never seen you wear that before." She leaned in closer, as if trying to get a better look at the material.

Xander turned the puppy-dog eyes on Willow, bottom lip out in a fake-pout. "You're telling me you hate my outfit, Wills? And here I thought you were my best bud, my partner in crime, my-"

"N-no. Not at all, n-no," Willow stammered, waving her hands in front of her, eyes wide. "I love it actually! It's, it's just really new. And different. Good different, not bad different. Like, 'who are you and what have you done with Xander' different."

"And really good quality too," Buffy chimed in, reaching out to feel the sleeve of his leather jacket. "It looks expensive. What'd you do, rob a bank?" She raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eye.

"Something like that," Xander joked, winking. At Buffy's unamused look, he chuckled nervously. "Kidding, kidding. I just know a guy, that's all. We're pretty cool so he gives me a half off discount at his shop. Perks of being a valued customer and all that jazz."

Buffy's eyes lit up, the small Slayer visibly energetic at Xander's last few words. "Did you say discount?" She leaned forward, eager. "Think you could hook a girl up? I'm always down for a good shopping deal."

"A discount?" Willow piped up, looking just as interested. "What kind of shop is it?"

Xander's mind raced, trying to come up with a way to steer the conversation away from the shop. I can't exactly tell them I'm getting my threads from a demonic boutique, he thought, fighting back a grimace. Time for a little classic Xander deflection.

"He wouldn't have anything you like," he said quickly, waving a dismissive hand. "It's all leather and chains and stuff. Very niche. Not really your style, Buff."

Buffy pouted, looking put out. "I could totally rock leather and chains," she muttered, crossing her arms.

Willow, however, wasn't ready to let it go. "But what's the name of the shop? Maybe we could just go browse, see if there's anything-"

"Hey, you know what? Enough about my clothes," Xander interrupted, pushing off the counter and clapping his hands together. "We're here to have fun, right? And what's more fun than dancing with your two best friends?" He grinned, doing a little shimmy.

Buffy and Willow exchanged a look, both seeming unconvinced. Uh oh, losing them. Time to bring out the big guns. Xander grabbed their hands, pulling them off their stools and towards the dance floor. "Come on, girls! Let's show these people how it's done!"

"Xander, wait-" Willow protested, stumbling a bit as he tugged her along.

"I don't really feel like dancing right now," Buffy added, though she allowed herself to be pulled into the crowd.

"Nonsense! There's always time for dancing," Xander declared, spinning Willow around and making her giggle despite herself. He turned to Buffy, wiggling his eyebrows. "Unless the Buff Buffster is afraid she can't keep up with my sick moves?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, but a smile was tugging at her lips. "Oh, you are so on, Harris. Prepare to be out-danced."

As the three of them fell into a rhythm, laughing and moving to the beat, Xander felt himself relax. Crisis averted, he thought, twirling Willow and making her squeak. Hopefully, this will take their minds off the whole shop thing. The last thing he needed was his friends poking around in his new devil business. What they don't know won't hurt them. Or me.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

An Hour and A Half Later

Xander lounged at a table, his body still thrumming with energy from dancing with Buffy and Willow. Man, who knew Willow could cut a rug like that? he thought, grinning to himself. Girl's got moves.

Speaking of Willow, the redhead was currently resting on his arm, eyes closed even though Xander could tell she wasn't actually asleep. Her breathing was too quick, her body too tense. But he wasn't going to disturb her for no reason. Poor Will, she works herself to the bone with all that studying. Girl deserves a little shut-eye, even if it means my arm goes numb.

Buffy, on the other hand, had wandered off to get drinks, leaving Xander alone with his thoughts. And what thoughts they were. Tonight's been great, he mused, his free hand tapping out the beat of the music on the table. Just me and the girls, dancing the night away. No demons, no vamps, no craziness. Just fun.

But of course, because the universe apparently had it out for him, that peace couldn't last. Suddenly, Xander felt what he could only describe as a buzzing in the center of his gut, like a swarm of bees had taken up residence in his stomach. What the hell?

His free hand reaches into his back pocket to confirm something, and the teen could feel his eyes twitch in frustration as he feels the slight heat emanating from his personal card. Xander felt a growl slip from his throat as he quickly rose to his feet, the sudden action making the girl on his arm open her eyes. A summoning? Now? On my night off? Xander thought, his left eye twitching in frustration. Someone out there has a death wish, and I'm more than happy to grant it.

Willow stared up at him, confusion and concern clear on her face, as her friend cracked his knuckles on each finger individually, a tight, almost frustrated look on his face as he glared at the exit to the Bronze.

"Xander, what's wrong?" Willow asked, her voice tinged with worry.

"Sorry, guys, forgot about something. Real important, at home," Xander rambled quickly, the words spilling out of him in a rush as he tried to come up with an excuse. "Gotta go take care of it."

Buffy, who had just returned with their drinks, frowned as she put them on the table. "What? But we were having fun! Can't it wait?"

Oh, Buff, if only you knew, Xander thought, already moving towards the exit. "Sorry, Buffster, no can do. This is... uh... family stuff. You know how it is."

He didn't wait for a response, already rushing his way through the Bronze, gently shoving other patrons out of the way as he did his best to leave as soon as possible. What butthole is summoning me on my off day? he wondered, his jaw clenched tight. It better not be Willy again, or I swear to Satan...

Finally bursting out into the cool night air, Xander ducked into a side alley, glancing side to side to make sure no one was there to see him. 

With a firm expression, the young Fiend allowed the summoning to begin, a frustrated glint in his eyes as the black-tinted scarlet light surrounded his body, his Infernal Energy draining slightly as a small teleportation runic circle formed beneath his feet in blood-red coloring. 

This better be worth my time, he thought as the world began to fade away, or someone's gonna learn why you don't mess with a devil's night off.