A Meeting of Minds, Magicks, and Clothes

Buffy looked around the street, carefully watching the humans as they went about their daily life. It was nearly sunset, and she was alone; Angelus was already gone, he left a week after her birthday celebration. Dru was with Spike, and she’d lied to Luke about her whereabouts. Daddy was going to have heart failure when he learned of this, but Buffy was curious.

Her one experience up here, with the humans, wasn’t good. She hated it, hated that they looked are her strangely, that they watched her as if she was something to fear. And she hated that they didn’t want her; when she’d told her father that she didn’t care, it was only partly true. Buffy couldn’t understand why they acted that way, when all she wanted was to fit in.

That wasn’t ever to be, apparently. So now, at the not quite advanced age of seven, Buffy stood at the street corner near the center of town. Luke would no doubt find her the second the sun disappeared behind the buildings, and it was safe for him to venture outside, but Buffy figured she had at least thirty minutes before that happened.

Walking down the paved sidewalk, Buffy took a moment to orient herself. She could navigate the tunnels with ease, having proven to her father that she could even do it blindfolded. Judging from where she exited, Buffy figured she was in the western half of the caverns.

A car honked and she jumped, looking after it in wonder. She knew about cars, but had only ridden in one a few times; once when she and Nest went to Los Angeles to check on their holdings there, and once when she wanted to see the ocean. There was a vague memory of a long time ago, and driving in a care with strangers not her daddy, but Buffy couldn’t place that thought.

“Are you lost?” A voice asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Buffy looked up at the redheaded woman and shook her head, no. The woman clutched the hand of a girl a little older than Buffy, and they both looked scared.

“No, I’m fine. Just waiting.”

“You shouldn’t wait on the street corner alone,” the woman admonished, but there was a kind smile on her face. “Why don’t you join us…what’s you name?”

Buffy tilted her head and looked at the older woman. She wasn’t that old, not like her daddy, but she seemed it. There was something in her eyes that Buffy hadn’t ever seen before, and couldn’t place it. But she seemed scared.

“Okay,” Buffy nodded, and smiled. “I’m Buffy.”

“This is Willow,” the woman said, “And I’m Shelia.”

“Why are you alone?” Willow asked, looking openly curious at the younger girl before her.

“Because I want to be,” Buffy answered honestly, earning a shocked gasp from Shelia. “And because I’m waiting for someone.”

“Who?” Willow asked again, as Shelia took Buffy’s hand automatically as they crossed the street.

Buffy frowned at her; she wasn’t used to being touched by strangers, and the moment they’d crossed to the other side of the intersections, yanked her hand out of Shelia’s. “Luke,” Buffy said absently. “He’ll be mad that I’m here.”

“Is Luke you father?” Shelia wondered, that fear back in her voice.

“No,” Buffy laughed. “He works for my daddy. Where are we?”

“The Ice Cream Café,” Willow whispered in excitement. “Today’s Tuesday, and we always come here on Tuesdays.”

“Oh. May I please have some ice cream, too?”

“Of course,” Shelia assured Buffy, smiling at the precious child. “What flavor do you like?”

“All of them.”

An hour later, when Luke burst into the café, anger twisting his face into a mask that made the other customers cower, Buffy was laughing with her new friend, Willow. She looked over at the door, frowning at Luke’s entrance. She didn’t want to leave yet.

“Buffy!” He commanded. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“I’m not finished my ice cream yet,” she said, and waved him over. “Do you want some? It’s chocolate, your favorite.”

Shelia, who had been ready to take her daughter and bolt the establishment, watched the exchange between the two, but remained silent. She had enough problems in this life without taking on Buffy’s, but the girl was so nice and sweet, and Willow seemed to really like her. It was her daughter’s first friend in too long.

“We’re going home,” Luke stated, folding his arms across his massive chest.

“Shh,” Buffy whispered, “We’re eating. Be nice to Shelia and Willow. They’re my friends.”

Luke looked like he wanted to protest, but instead remained silent. He didn’t move from next to Buffy’s chair, but he didn’t say anything else, either, just looked at her with that ‘We’re leaving now, or your father will be angry’ look. Sighing, Buffy turned back to her new friends.

“I’m sorry, I have to go home now. Daddy will be mad if I’m not.”

“Buffy,” Shelia asked quietly, her voice timid. She didn’t want to ask with the lurking, and very intimidating, man beside Buffy; having dealt with an abusive husband who wanted nothing more than to get his hands back on her and Willow, Shelia had to. “Will you be okay with your father?”

“Of course,” she laughed, not sure what Shelia meant. “He’s daddy. Will I see you again?”

“Maybe,” Shelia nodded. “We’ll be in Sunnydale for at least another week.”

“Can we play on Saturday, mommy?” Willow asked, her dark red hair falling over her face as she smiled shyly at Buffy.

“If it’s okay with Buffy’s father,” Shelia nodded.

Play? Like with a friend? Buffy stared at the two for a moment in shock. That was a first, and she didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t think so, Buffy,” Luke answered for her, but his eyes were glued to Willow.

“I’ll ask daddy,” she promised, certain she could convince her father to let her play with Willow for a few hours at least.
~~~~~~~~~~
“The magickal power in her was immense, Sire,” Luke informed his master as Buffy sat in her room, waiting her punishment for leaving without permission, and worse, without an escort.

“And you think she doesn’t realize this?”

“The woman was weak, beaten it looked like, definitely on the run.” Luke paused, thinking back to the conversation. “The girl had no idea, no, Sire. She was unaware of the power she held.”

Nest nodded, chin resting in one clawed hand as he thought this over. “Keep an eye on them, Luke,” he instructed. “But Buffy will be at their house Saturday; I want the area investigated first, and wards set up for Buffy’s safety.”

Nest rose to see to Buffy’s punishment. “And we’ll see just how powerful the girl is.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Glory walked through the underground cave.

Yes, it was most definitely a cave, complete with rock walls, dirt floor, and torches. The second she saw a rat, she was out of there, despite what help she may or may not have desperately needed.

Oh, and let’s not forget the stench, which was quite overwhelming. What was it, Glory wondered as she was led through winding tunnels to the Master’s audience chamber, about vampires and caves? She much preferred spacious penthouse suites with silks and satins, and minions to do your bidding. Where you lived, after all, said a lot about who you were.

She amended that opinion about this specific vampire – but not those in general – when she saw the chamber. Classic paintings adorned the rock walls, Rembrandt, da Vinci, Vermeer, Degas, and Picasso. The fabrics lining the master’s large throne were velvets and silks done in a blood red, naturally, but the quality wasn’t something to scoff at.

Maybe that was how you lived…

But what intrigued Glory was the smaller throne to the left…and the child that sat upon it.

So this was Nest’s human daughter, the Princess of the Underground. Interesting. She was nothing like Glory expected; the girl was quiet, well behaved, and looked more regal sitting in the throne than many Glory had seen in her long exile on this hellish planet.

“Master Nest,” Glory acknowledged, pulling her eyes away from the intriguing child and bowing slightly. It wasn’t that she, a goddess, felt the need to show subservience to, of all things, a vampire, but she really needed his help; respect was usually appreciated.

“Glroificus, always a pleasure. We missed you at Buffy’s party, last month.”

His voice held no inflection, but Glory knew that that had been a miscalculation on her part. She really wasn’t good with children, human or any other kind, and had purposely missed the soirée; she had hoped that the fact that she was a month late wouldn’t have looked so suspicious. Carefully banking the anger that flared at his words, Glory turned to Buffy.

“I apologize, Princess,” she said with another bow, “I had previous engagements to attend to that could not be put off.”

This was so humiliating.

Buffy nodded, and once again Glory couldn’t help but appreciate her regal manner no matter how she hated this. And she really, really hated this. It was bad enough she had to all but beg for Nest’s help, but this…this was even worse.

“Apology accepted, Glorificus,” she said as her father had instructed her, using Glory’s full name. Then, because she couldn’t resist, “Are you really a goddess?”

Noting the awe in the girl’s voice, Glory turned her full attention to her. “Yes, I am.”

“Do you have cool powers, can you throw lightening bolts, or control the weather, or have a magickal weapon?” Buffy tried, but couldn’t contain the amazement and curiosity in her voice.

“None of that here, no, but I do have great strength. Most of my powers are only good in my home dimension.” Why in all of the cosmos was she explaining this to the girl?

Buffy nodded, as if understanding completely, but she did look slightly disappointed. “You’re here so you can go home, right?”

Glory nodded once at the girl and smiled, a genuine smile, before turning back to Nest. The vampire had an indulgent look on his face, and Glory was momentarily taken aback; vampires felt nothing, or not so soft an emotion as was displayed on Nest’s grotesque features, so how was this possible? Maybe there was more to this girl than she had first suspected. Making a mental note to get to know the child later – maybe the girl could help Glory in her quest somehow – she focused on Nest and what he had to offer her.

Buffy sat quietly, absorbing everything around her listening to her father and his guest as they discussed informants, possible leads, and information gathering. She knew that Glory needed her father’s help to get home, but had no real idea what kind of help that involved.

All she knew was that she wanted to talk with Glory more; her one friend, Willow, had left last week with only a quick goodbye and a vague promise to write to Buffy from wherever she and her mom went next. Buffy wasn’t sure Willow would, but desperately hoped she did. Plus, Buffy had never met a goddess – was that higher than master? It was definitely higher than princess – and desperately wanted to know more about her.

Maybe Glory could be her friends, like Willow was.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Can I watch?”

Glory looked at the child, wondering yet again, why she allowed this. How did she get stuck babysitting the girl? True, Buffy was smart and quick to pick up things, she was fast and had a temper to rival her own, but she was human; worse, she was the human child of a master vampire.

And maybe therein held the appeal. She was unique, an anomaly in an ever changing world. Much like Glory herself.

“If you wish, Princess,” Glory answered in a tolerant voice that still held a hint of her innate arrogance. With that, she sunk her hands into the vagrant Nest had had brought to her, draining the brain energy from the unfortunate man.

Reaching a small hesitant hand out, Buffy fingered the soft curly locks of the goddess as the glow surrounding Glory faded, and she collapsed backwards into the chair. “Why do you call me that?” She asked, pulling her hand back, and looking at Glory who was now sitting up, looking much better than she had just moments before.

“What, princess? Because it’s your title,” the goddess replied as she rubbed a hand across her eyes. She needed feed more often than she had been, but the stress of finding a way home was taking all her time; it was no excuse, and Glory vowed to feed more often now that home was within her grasp.

“Does that hurt?” Buffy wondered.

Glory watched as one of the minions took the now crazy – crazier – man out of her chambers, most likely to drain. “No, it doesn’t hurt, me at least. It feeds me, much like vampires need blood, and you need food and water; I need what this man’s brain provides.”

Buffy nodded to that, not quite understanding, but not wanting the goddess to suck her brain dry either. She shivered at the thought, liking her brain just the way it was. Instead, she went back to her original question. “Usually only Angel calls me that, he says I’m his princess.”

“Angel?” Why did that seem familiar? She couldn’t mean, “Angelus?”

“Yes, he says I’m his princess.” Buffy grinned at Glory as she said that, and the goddess wondered just how much Buffy knew of Angelus’ past. Then again, what did it matter? It seemed as if the girl accepted things most humans cringed at; the killings, the way Nest ruled, the simple fact of vampires.

Then again, Buffy accepted the fact that her father was a master vampire, that humans were tortured, fed from and killed on a regular basis in this place, and she had just watched the goddess brain drain a random person off the streets. Must be the way Nest had raised her.

“Who made your dress?”

Glory looked at the seven year old. She was too young to know of clothes, Glory was sure. “A nice old woman in LA made it for me.”

“Can she make me one? The vampiresses here aren’t very good,” the girl confided.

“Ah, sure,” Glory nodded. Clothes. What was next? Dolls?

“Will you play with me?” Buffy asked, looking up at the beautiful woman. “Drusilla is still with Spike, and Willow left.”

“Who is Willow?” Glory wondered. She knew who Drusilla and Spike were, but this was a new name.

“She’s my friend. She lives up there,” Buffy pointed towards the ceiling and the human world. “But she left,and,” Buffy confided, “Her mom didn’t like the games I knew. Will you play with me?”

“What kind of games do you like?” Glory wouldn’t be responsible for her actions if she were, indeed, required to play with dolls.

“Knife tossing.”

She could like this girl, Glory had a feeling as she smiled at Buffy. Wasn’t that strange?
~~~~~~~~~~
“His name is Rufus.” Nest informed Glory more than a dozen weeks later. “He’s an ice demon living in Siberia, near the Chukchi Sea at the moment. He’s powerful in the dark magicks you require, and has extensive knowledge pertaining to alternate dimensions.”

Nest handed Glory a parchment letter of introduction and a blood red ruby ring.

He hated using favors like this, but it had been centuries since he had needed Rufus’ help, and Glory promised to be at least more accessible should he need her in the future. The problem with ice demons was that, out of necessity, they were only found in the cold; Nest hated the cold, preferring the milder climate of Southern California. And, since their move to LA two months earlier, there were so many more humans to terrorize than the tiny town on the Hellmouth had to offer.

Plus Buffy seemed to forget her human friend, Willow here. Willow had disappeared one day, devastating Buffy. Nest wanted to hunt her and the mother down and gut them, but Buffy had begged him not to. Because they’d made his child cry, nest contemplated ignoring her wishes, but hadn’t.

Not when Luke had confirmed that Shelia’s husband had found her, and killed her, taking Willow with him someplace east. Nest hadn’t told Buffy, hoping that this lesson in friendships – and humans – had been well learned.

“If he has no information on how to return home,” Nest added, “He might know someone who does. Treat him with at least a modicum of respect,” he warned with a smirk.

They talked for a bit longer before Glory left, stopping in to say goodbye to Buffy. She was really going to miss that child.
~~~~~~~~~~
Glory scowled at the town in general.

She hated…ordinary. And this was that and so much more: ordinary, suburban…filthy. Why was she here again? This was so not her scene; she preferred the more high-class areas of the city, the rich ones. The clean ones.

There it was again.

A shimmer in the air, something that called to her, beckoning her through the mist covered streets in the predawn in a town – state – she wouldn’t have deigned to enter before. Magick hung in the air, just a hint but enough to intrigue her. It wasn’t that she hadn’t felt magick before that certainly wasn’t it.

No, this was different. Strong, powerful, untamed. Whoever was currently wielding their powers had potential. Untrained as this person seemed, there was enough power there to catch her attention from miles away. Closing her eyes and following instinct, Glory followed the thin magickal thread to her destination.

Was it her fault she was here? No, she refused to believe that. Then again she wasn’t sure that it was Nest’s fault, either. No information – as much as she absolutely HATED to admit that – was no information. And did she ever hate that.

It had taken her three years to find Rufus, learn he had nothing for her, find the A’latu demon he had recommended – nothing from her, either – nor had the Gao’tgo, the Ne’t’p, the C’lahr, or the countless other demons, shamans, priestesses, mages, sorcerers and sorceresses she had consulted over the years.

Three more damn years spent on this hellhole of a planet and what did she, the Great Glorificus, have to show for it? Not a damn thing. Wasted time, a trail of crazed humans left in her wake, minions who followed her blindly – okay that was a good thing – and a sharper temper than she had had before she had left America.

Well, she had Buffy. The girl had grown on her, and Glory found that if – when – she left this planet, Buffy was the one person she’d miss. She was smart, a very quick learner, she liked many of the same things Glory did – magick, weapons, and most importantly, clothes – and she had a sense of humor on her that Glory adored. Made for some very interesting evenings as they watched the crowd bow and kowtow to she and Nest.

Now, she wandered the streets, alone for the moment; her minions were preparing for her trip back to LA. If she couldn’t find a way off this planet, she might as well go back to the one place she had powerful friends.

Still not finding what was calling to her in this little town, Glory’s thoughts turned to her own predicament, and she wondered if she should just give up her plan to go home. They all had said the same thing, all the powerful beings of this miserable little planet. There was no way for her to return to her own dimension…unless she appeased the Goddess of the Lost, and she allowed the return.

Glory had banished Dinza from her dimension eons ago. It was unlikely that she was going to do Glory any favors. An alternative to that was to steal the Dagon Sphere herself and hope it didn’t burn her to a crisp. Glory wasn’t ruling that out.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad here…if she were in a coma, and didn’t have to see where she was.

Then again, maybe finding whoever wielded this much power would make her eternal stay here that much better.
~~~~~~~~~~
Willow looked around her. 

Everything was a mess, broken china and splintered wood lay strewn about the small room. Had she done that? Honestly, she hadn’t meant to, it was just that…that she had been scared, he was attacking her – again – and she had reacted. At first, the fifteen-year-old had thought that her magick tricks were just that, tricks. It was something she used to share only with her mom…until he killed her; something the two of them enjoyed as they ran from city to city.

But this…this was carnage; or as close to it as she had even been.

She had seriously hurt someone.

What was she supposed to do now?

The room was trashed, looking as if a cyclone had whipped through it, tossing things everywhere. She had remained unaffected, though, had noted that with a strangely detached eye, even as it was happening.

Slowly, feeling as if she’d break with any sudden movement, Willow walked out the door, careful to close it before turning down the hallway and away from her abusive father. She was through with that, and tonight proved it irrevocably.

Pausing once she was outside the apartment building, she looked around the bright day. Wasn’t it amazing, she wondered, still in shock, that something so momentous could happen to her; her entire world could change and no one else felt it? They continued to wander around their own little lives, oblivious to her and her problems, her pain.

Someone was watching her.

How on earth did she know that? Paranoia? Possibly, she had thought, for a moment, that she had killed her father, but a quick check of his unconscious body clearly showed a pulse. Besides, no one could have known that quickly, could they?

It was a woman across the busy street. She was looking at Willow as if she were the big prize in the ultimate sweepstakes. Wasn’t that odd? Willow thought so but did nothing, her body and mind still in shock. Turning to walk away, to where she had no idea but she needed to get away, Willow didn’t realize that the woman was following her.

“You have no idea, do you?” She heard from directly behind her.

Whirling around to confront the woman, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “An idea about what?”

“What you can do. You think it’s some kind of freak accident, something that you did only that once, and can’t ever or maybe don’t ever want to do again. Why is that?”

The woman was beautiful, her hair was shinning in the sunlight and her eyes bright with something…curiosity was there, as was meanness – Willow recognized that look all too well – but there was a strange kindness to them as well. Maybe not kindness, but Willow had a feeling that she was more important to this woman alive and as an ally, than she was dead.

“I didn’t do anything,” she said, defensive. “Now stop following me.”

“I can help you, Willow,” the woman said, again surprising Willow by knowing her name.

“How do you know who I am? And what do you mean by that?”

Truthfully Glory had been walking down the street, drawn to this poor section of a dingy town in some mid-western state or other. Stopping when she felt the power stream out of one of the buildings, she wandered closer, watching the scene on the third floor with fascination.

Not many had the kind of power this young girl possessed, and she was almost completely untrained, too, from what Glory could tell. With the proper training and supervision, young Willow was going to make a wonderful asset.

Maybe this was her alternate way home.

Or at the very least, the key to securing some of her powers here in this god-awful plane.

“I know a lot about you, child,” she responded at length. “I know that you’re much stronger than you think, and that you and I will do great things one day.” She took a step closer and was pleased to note Willow stood her ground. “You’re not meant for this, Willow, you have a greater purpose. And I can help you find it. I can teach you, show you things you haven’t even begun to imagine.”

“Who are you?”

“Glory,” the woman answered.

“How can you help me?”

Glory smiled, and while it was a slightly crazed smile, it was also one that promised Willow all the things she had ever wanted. “I think we have a friend in common.”

“I don’t have any friends,” Willow laughed bitterly.

“Not even Buffy?”

Willow paused in whatever she was going to say and stared at the woman. “How do you know Buffy?”
~~~~~~~~~~
Rupert Giles, Ripper to those who knew what he was capable of, prowled around his richly furnished hotel room.

He had tracked the power for six weeks, and still nothing. That kind of unchecked power was addicting, he knew, and dangerous if the wielder fell into the wrong hands…namely if he wasn’t the one controlling him or her. The Watcher’s Council, that pathetic group of wankers who didn’t know the difference between a binding spell and a sealing spell, would most certainly want to know of this person.

He was going to see that they didn’t.

There it was again, a faint ripple in the air.

Picking up his duffle bag and heading out the door, he resolved not to stop until he found the source of such power. And, if possible, discovered a way to channel at least some of it into him.

Next Part: Addiction to Each Other