(Author's note: this chapter may contain sex, and probably borders on a rating of NC-17, so be warned)
“They're justified, and they're ancient,
And they drive an ice cream van.
They're justified, and they're ancient,
With still no master plan.
The last train went an hour ago ...”
Buffy giggled. “What on Earth are you singing, Spike? Did you make it up? Is it about Xander and Anya?”
“Nah, I didn't make it up. Couple of right nutters called the KLF did it; was a big hit in Britain a few years back. They got Tammy Wynette to do the lead vocals just to make it even weirder.” Spike's eyes were twinkling. “And yeah, it's Xander and Anya brought it to mind, what with him driving an ice cream van, guess you'd call it an ice cream truck. Anyanka's ancient right enough; and you could call Xander justified, if you use it to mean righteous rather than lined up with the margins.”
Buffy laughed so much she forgot to watch where she was going, and tripped over a gravestone. “And they haven't got a master plan,” she agreed, picking herself up and brushing herself down. “Xander's still with the short-term minimum wage crap, Anya temping and waitressing, and - there's a vampire behind you.”
“Got it covered, pet,” Spike assured her, spin-kicking the vampire in the face and knocking it to the ground. He drew a stake from his coat and strode forward to finish off his fallen foe, resuming the conversation as he went. “Yeah, they need to get a place together, instead of -” He was cut off abruptly by a large, muscular, horned demon, who leaped out from behind a tomb and punched him hard in the face.
Spike was driven back by the force of the blow, and stepped back further to regain his balance and be ready to meet the demon's next attack. To his surprise, and Buffy's, the creature helped the fallen vampire to its feet and gestured for it to flee, positioning itself to cover the retreat. “What is this, a sodding tag team match?” Spike growled.
“I'm on it,” Buffy called to him. “You get Fangy, I'll get Horny.” She gave him a teasing smile, making it clear that her double entendre was intended rather than accidental, and approached the demon. It struck out at her; she caught its extended wrist, twisted, turned, and forced it face down to the ground. The way was cleared for Spike to pursue the vampire, and he took off at a run. He caught it within twenty yards, staked it, and returned to assist the Slayer with the demon. She didn't need any assistance; she'd already broken its neck.
“Lovely style there, pet,” he complimented her.
“Thanks. With you and Giles both teaching me I'm getting pretty good, I think. Except that I can never remember the names of the moves.”
“That one was ‘Kotehineri',” he informed her. “Not that the names matter, as long as you can do them.” He turned the body over. “Bloody weird the way this character helped the vamp out. All demons are a bit snotty with vamps, think we're not good enough to mix with them ‘cos of being part human, but these buggers are worse than most. Seen this type before, but I don't know what they're called because they wouldn't even bloody speak to me. Now this one and a vamp are acting like sodding Bubba Ray and D-Von Dudley.”
“Which makes us who, Jeff Hardy and Lita?” Buffy raised her eyebrows at her vampire boyfriend. “Have you been watching the wrestling with Xander? Not your usual taste in TV.”
“Oh, I don't know. Ridiculously contrived plots, rotten scripts, bad acting - it's just like my soaps, really, ‘cept with The Rock instead of Timmy. Been watching it with Xander and Jonathan. What about you, pet, who do you watch it with?”
“I don't! Just have it on in the background while I'm studying,” Buffy lied unconvincingly, causing Spike to snicker. “Oh, all right, with Willow and Tara, okay? And sometimes with Mom. I watch trashy uncultured wrestling. So sue me. C'mon, let's clear up this mess and then go and tell Giles about the Demon Wrestling Federation.”
“He's gone off me, I know it,” Anya wailed. “I've seen it so often. Love never lasts in men. The spark goes out, and then there's nothing left but the vengeance.”
“C'mon, Anya, so he didn't boink you last night, what's the big deal?” Harmony comforted her, somewhat puzzled. “I went out with Devon for six months and never boinked him at all. Although I did give him a couple of blow jobs.”
“And you're not going out with him any more, are you?” Anya retorted triumphantly, as if she had scored a major point.
“Yeah, but that's because Oz was going out with Willow, and I was bitchy about it, wouldn't double date, and he got fed up and dumped me.” Harmony's brow wrinkled with thought. Anya's odd way of looking at things was starting to make her head spin, and she couldn't work out whether her explanation made her point stronger or weaker. “And Spike and Buffy aren't boinking yet,” she reminded the former Vengeance Demon, seizing upon something she thought would be unanswerable.
“That's not the same as having sex every night and then stopping,” Anya pointed out, somehow managing to sound smug and heartbroken at the same time.
Harmony gave up. “Okay, okay. So get him back. Or find someone to replace him. Either way, you're not going to the party dressed in that.” She gestured scornfully at the high-necked and demure ensemble that Anya was wearing.
“What's wrong with it?” Anya asked. “I think it's very pretty.”
“Pretty, schmitty,” Harmony dismissed. “It's not going to get you laid. Put on that top I brought you back from LA. Let's see some cleavage there, girl. We'll get Xander panting over you, or if not him then Riley's got some cute friends who might be interested. See if you can make their eyes pop out. Either Xander will get all jealous and be all over you again, or else you can get somebody new all over you. Think orgasms.”
“I take it you plan to get some from Riley?”
“You got it. Let's see which of us can get the most.” Harmony adjusted her own top to display her bosom to maximum effect. “Let's get, let's get, let's get, let's get fucked,” she sang, and then laughed at Anya's puzzled expression. “A little variation Devon came up with on an old Def Leppard song,” she explained. “Says ‘rocked' in the original, but he twisted it. Come on, sing it with me. Get you in the right frame of mind.”
“You've invited Harmony Kendall?” Forrest gasped. “Are you nuts, man?”
“Why shouldn't I?” Riley asked, annoyed. “Colonel Havilland okayed her to return to Sunnydale. She's safe, she's friendly, she saved my life, and she's hot.”
“She's cold. Stone cold dead. She's a frigging corpse, Rye, a vampire. Hostile 17.” Forrest shook his head. “What's wrong with you, man?”
“You invited Hostile 17?” another Initiative agent, Mason, joined the conversation. “What as, the stripper?” He laughed, remembering Harmony's naked escape from the Initiative labs, but the laughter died on his lips as he looked into Riley's eyes.
“You don't mention that ever again,” Riley said coldly.
“Okay, okay,” Mason agreed, backing away. He remembered seeing Riley punch out Parker for a crude remark he'd made about Buffy, back when Riley had been interested in Buffy himself, and the tall agent had exactly the same look in his eyes now. A fight was not an appealing prospect; Riley regularly proved in training that he was the best fighter in the Initiative, only Forrest coming close to his level. “Just a joke, man. Didn't mean anything by it.”
“Hey, lighten up,” Graham tried to defuse the situation. “We're getting ready for a party here. Cool it, Rye, Mase was just kidding. You cool it too, Forrest. Let Riley invite who he wants. Rule One of College parties is you can never have too many good-looking chicks. Nobody's saying you have to make out with her.”
“Okay, okay,” Forrest acquiesced. “You do what you want.” He turned away and went back to making preparations for the party; but he wasn't happy.
“Let's get, let's get, let's get, let's get fucked,” the two girls sang, striding down the alley with arms linked. “Get on top of me,” Harmony took the solo part, and then joined Anya in chorusing once more “Let's get, let's get, let's get, let's get fucked.”
A figure stepped out just in front of them. A vampire, in game face. Hungry, even desperate. Between Adam's ‘press gang', the Initiative, and the Slayer and her sidekick, the normal feeding grounds for vampires were hazardous in the extreme. He had been forced to venture into busier areas of town near the University campus, and was taking a chance he would normally have regarded as too risky. One of the girls would probably get away; he'd have to feed quickly and then run. He pounced immediately, hoping that his terrifying appearance would immobilise the girls long enough for him to silence them both. It never occurred to him that one of the girls was actually another vampire.
Harmony caught his hand and twisted hard, punched him in the floating ribs, kicked him in the kneecap, forced him downwards with a wristlock and seized his hair with her other hand, pulling back his head and holding him helpless as Anya drew a stake from her purse and drove it home. They exchanged a high five and a smile as the dust settled, linked arms again, and continued down the alley. “Let's get, let's get, let's get, let's get fucked; let's get, let's get, let's get, let's get fucked.”
Many of the residents of Lowell House were Initiative staff, apart from the three TAs. Riley was lucky enough to have a room of his own, Forrest and Graham shared another, and the rank and file filled a dorm. The other dorm was made up of genuine students, oblivious (at least in theory) to the strange goings-on in Sunnydale. One of those students was Parker Abrams.
He was dateless, due to the disadvantage inherent in his habit of preying on clueless Freshman co-eds for one-night stands. They were not an inexhaustible resource; by this time of year there were none left who didn't know all about him, either from bitter experience or by being warned off him by friends who had suffered. Consequently, he made a bee-line for Harmony and Anya, the two strangers, when they entered. He had hardly begun his chat-up spiel when Harmony spotted Riley. Her face lit up, she gave Anya a quick farewell, and shot across the room towards the tall Iowan, who met her half-way.
“Hi, Michelle, or is it Harmony?” he greeted her, smiling. “The blonde hair suits you. You're looking good.”
“Thanks,” she smiled back. “It's my real colour. I've gone back to my real name, too, so you can call me Harmony. I dropped the disguise after I used it to do some undercover work for a Private Eye in LA.”
“Sounds like you had an exciting time,” Riley probed.
“You could say that, what with people trying to kill me all the time,” Harmony responded. “I can't really tell you about it, though. I had to sign this thing about client confidentiality, and I didn't really understand it that well, so probably best if I don't say anything. Wanna dance?”
Anya was well aware of who Parker Abrams was, and played along with him initially only in the hope of being able to stage a particularly dramatic public humiliation. Then Xander entered, with Jonathan, and Anya's motivations changed slightly. Xander's lips tightened as he saw her with the predatory student, but he was still simmering from the row they had had earlier, and instead of intervening he set off deeper into the party, Jonathan trailing behind him, to join Spike and Buffy. They turned out to be totally occupied with each other, oblivious to their surroundings, and the two young men left them alone and headed for the food and drink. Jonathan fell into conversation with a bespectacled Klingon speaker, and Xander wandered on alone, carrying a beer and a sandwich, and found himself standing in front of the fraternity's trophy cabinet alongside a pretty red-haired girl who he remembered having seen with Buffy on a couple of previous occasions. He cracked a joke to make an approach; she laughed, and introduced herself. She was Julie, the girl to whom Spike had taught the tango, and they had plenty of friends in common. Within a couple of minutes they were getting on like a house on fire; only without the screams, the structural damage, and the deaths by asphyxiation. Although the glances Anya was shooting in their direction implied that those aspects were only moments away.
“How come you've been so much happier lately?” Buffy asked, running her fingers through Spike's hair as she spoke.
“You're sitting on my lap, stroking my hair, and you have to ask that?” Spike grinned. He moved his hand downwards from her waist and squeezed her backside gently.
“No, seriously, Spike,” Buffy went on. “You've been laughing more, telling funny stories, singing silly songs, and it's all since that thing with Super Jonathan. Or maybe our trip to LA, but I think it started before then. It's not ‘cause Harmony's back, is it?” She pouted briefly, then giggled.
“Bloody Hell no!” Spike protested. “I'm not denying she's quite fun to have around these days, pet, but if I am feeling a bit more chipper she's got nothing to do with it. It's ‘cos of the thing with the hand.” Buffy looked blank, and Spike explained further. “Mr Punch. Spike the One-Armed Boxer.”
Buffy looked around to make sure no-one was close enough to be listening to their conversation before replying. She saw that their corner of the room was empty, and knew that the volume of the compilation album playing was high enough that their voices wouldn't carry, and felt it safe to carry on. “So you suffered a painful injury and it made you happy? Masochist much? Or was it ‘cause you could be chased by Harrison Ford, or star in a remake of ‘Bad Day at Black Rock'? In which case, why'd you get it fixed?”
“Didn't like the film version of ‘The Fugitive',” Spike digressed. “Although, got to admit, the TV series did go on far too bloody long. Nah, nothing to do with that, love,” he returned to the point. “It was just, it proved I could be killed. I'm not invincible. So I can be a hero. There are times I hate this bloody ring, y'know, pet. It's like I'm a slave to it. Can't take it off, because then I'm just a sodding creature of the night, but when I wear it I can't be harmed. So nothing I do wearing it bloody well matters. It's not being brave when I go into a fight. Seems downright unfair sometimes. Feel a damn sight better about it all now that I've been reminded that I can still lose.”
“This is some macho testosterone thing, then,” Buffy said, shaking her head. “I'll never understand men. Still, you being happy is of the good, even if it is for a dumb reason.” She kissed him. “Feel like dancing?”
“To this?” Spike raised an eyebrow. “Eagle Eye Cherry? A bloke who must have been named after a ‘Ben and Jerry' ice cream flavour?” He shook his head briefly, and then relented, grinning. “Yeah, all right. It's not that bad.”
Harmony was having a wonderful time. Riley was sweet, charming, handsome, and attentive, and he was also tall. Harmony was a big girl, as tall as Spike in her high heels, or even a little taller, and she enjoyed feeling small next to Riley. His friends were being pleasant to her, even though most of them probably knew she was a vampire; only Forrest was glowering and suspicious at first, and even he mellowed towards her before very long, or at least did a better job of concealing his hostility.
Riley expressed some concern over Anya being with Parker, which Harmony thought was sweet of him; she assured him that Anya knew perfectly well the sort of guy she was dealing with, and was undoubtedly just setting Parker up for a fall, and Riley relaxed. They danced, they talked, and eventually they sat on a couch and began making out. He was a great kisser, she thought, and she held him tightly to her and kissed him with everything she had. His hands explored her body, and she writhed sensuously against him.
“Get a room, you two!” came a shout from a passer-by, the traditional Sunnydale comment on public displays of affection, and Riley drew back from her slightly.
“Should we?” he suggested, only half seriously.
“I don't usually,” Harmony told him. “I never went all the way with anyone before Spike, and there hasn't been anybody since him, except - you know, the Incident - and that doesn't count. But - I want you. I really, really, want you.”
Riley took a deep breath, and hesitated. Then Harmony ran her hand lightly down his chest to his groin, and she kissed him again. When they released each other he had made his decision. “Okay, let's do it.” He rose to his feet and took her hand.
“Even educated fleas do it,” Harmony giggled, and followed him upstairs to his room. On the way they passed Xander, who was playing ‘Spin the Bottle' with a group including Julie; and Buffy and Spike, who were in a clinch which made the one Riley and Harmony had been sharing look tame. “Get a room!” Harmony called out to them as she passed, and grinned delightedly at them as they looked up.
“Why not?” Buffy panted into Spike's ear. “Why wait till summer? Spontaneity good. I want you, you want me. Seize the day.”
“You're sure? You won't hate me in the morning?” Spike sounded uncharacteristically uncertain, and Buffy pouted.
“I know what I want, Spike. I'm a big girl now. Well, except in the size sense. I won't feel any different in the morning. If you promise not to go all evil, that is.”
“No chance, love. Right, then, one ravishing coming up.”
“Only one ravishing?” Buffy pouted again. “After I've been waiting for months?”
“Little minx,” Spike scolded her, laughing. “One fully comprehensive ravishing with all the trimmings. You won't be disappointed.”
They untangled themselves and headed for where they assumed the small bedrooms would be, working on the assumption that the layout of Lowell House was probably not dissimilar to that of Fischer House where Spike had his room, and were just in time to see Riley and Harmony disappearing into a bedroom. They tried the door of the next room, and found it to be empty and containing two beds. Spike put a chair up against the door, not wedging it to prevent entry but just to make it obvious that the room was in use, and took hold of Buffy again. “Okay, Goldilocks, let's sleep in someone else's bed,” he said, and began to kiss her neck whilst sliding his hand up under her top.
“I never got any porridge!” she complained, unzipping his jeans. “I hope you've got something else to fill me up. Oh, yes, this'll do nicely.”
Riley drew Harmony's left nipple into his mouth and nibbled it gently, then pulled back slightly and blew on the wet spot. She moaned, and the already erect nipple stood up even more. Her fingers moved lightly over his balls, and she buried her face in his neck. For a moment Riley was distracted; a vampire had her mouth up against his carotid artery. Then she moved up his neck in a series of gentle kisses and began nibbling his earlobe, and he breathed again. He reached for her panties, and began to slip them down over her hips, but she took his hand and stopped him.
“Wait,” she told him. “I want you, but I don't do one-nighters. If we're going to do this, I have to know that we're going to be together for more than this one night.”
The vulnerable look on her face removed the last of Riley's doubts. “I don't do one-nighters either, Harmony,” he assured her. “If I didn't want to see you again we wouldn't be here.” She released his hand, and he slid her panties down until they fell free.
“We might have to use some kind of lubrication,” she warned him. “That's one of the things that don't work quite as well now I'm a vampire.” He kissed her stomach, and probed her navel with his tongue. “Ohhh, God,” she moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head. “Second thoughts, lubrication not gonna be a problem.”
Buffy lay face down on Forrest's bed, naked, while Spike ran kisses down her spine from the nape of her neck to her tailbone, then moved across to her buttocks and bit her gently. “Mmmm, nice,” she murmured. “But not what you said you were going to do.”
“Never been one for following a script, love, you know that. Don't tell me you're complaining?” He bit her again, then moved further down and began to lick.
“Not complaining! Not complaining! Yes, keep doing that!” Buffy squealed. “'Cept I can't reach you to do anything back.”
Spike withdrew his head briefly, and licked his lips. “No need to do anything just yet, love. I'll do the work for now. Your turn later. Lift up a bit.” She obeyed, and his head lowered again.
“So good,” Buffy gasped. “Love you. Want you in me.”
His lips moved up once more, working their way back towards her neck, and his body was between her legs. His hand worked briefly, and then Buffy shuddered ecstatically as he entered her. Totally involved in each other, neither of them noticed the lights flickering briefly, or the blue glow that suffused the walls for a moment and then vanished.
Harmony saw the blue glow passing through the walls of Riley's room, but she was approaching orgasm at the time and in no state to realise that it wasn't just a side effect of the feelings she was experiencing. “You're lighting up my world,” she gasped. “Think I love you. God. Oh God. Yes. Ohhh! Ohhh! Ohhhhh!” Another pulse of blue light, twice as bright as the first, danced along the walls and shot downwards into the floor.
Downstairs a student from one of Spike's language classes was leaning against the wall, trying to impress a girl by talking about the sensuality of language. The wall flickered blue for a second, but no-one noticed. Then the young man twitched, and shuddered, and gasped. “Oh! Wow!” he exclaimed. “That was totally intense.”
“What?” asked the girl, puzzled. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, wow, more than all right. Hey, you gotta feel this.” He took her hand, and held it against the wall.
“You some kind of weirdo?” she asked, and then her expression changed to a bemused smile. Her knees buckled. “Wow. Oooh! Intense, yeah!”
Anya was fed up with Parker. His chat-up lines were lame, his sob story lacked internal consistency, and a brief spell of groping had revealed to her that he was not as well endowed as Xander. How had Buffy been stupid enough to fall for this loser's pathetic approaches? There were no worthwhile orgasms to be had here. Time to end this in a fashion appropriate to a former Vengeance Demon. A quick glance round, to make sure there were enough people within hearing range, and then action.
“Make your mind up which one of your parents is supposed to have died tragically,” she said loudly. “I understand why you have to tell these sob stories, it's not as if anyone would boink a loser like you with such an inadequate penis if you didn't make them feel sorry for you, but you could at least get your story straight. And you really should do something about getting that charisma bypass operation reversed.”
Heads turned, and eyes focused on the couple. Some of the eyes belonged to girls who had been victims of Parker in the past. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he said hastily.
“You mean you haven't had a charisma bypass operation? You were born with the charm and wit of an armadillo with leprosy?” Anya asked with feigned surprise. “And surely you must be aware that your penis is inadequate. Having to search out the ‘Extra Small' Trojans should have given you a clue.”
“She's damn right there,” a nearby girl agreed, laughing.
“You mean they're supposed to be bigger than a lipstick?” another girl added. “Hey, have to try looking for a real man.”
Parker's face flushed with anger, and for a moment Anya thought he was going to hit her, but she stood her ground and stared at him scornfully until he lowered his head and scurried away.
A ripple of applause came from the girls nearby, and a few of the boys, and Anya dipped her head in acknowledgement before heading off to search for Xander. The real thing, accept no substitutes, Xander. She passed a queue of people who were waiting for their turn to put their hand on the wall, and she rolled her eyes. Sometimes humans, particularly students, just made no sense to her whatever.
The game of ‘Spin the Bottle' eventually produced a Xander/Julie pairing, and he kissed her as required by the rules. Not a full-on kiss with tongues, as he had originally intended, but a chaste peck. She was a nice girl, and fun, but she just wasn't Anya. Then Julie escalated the kiss; seizing Xander, kissing him passionately, and then climbing entirely on top of him and attempting to thrust her tongue down his throat.
“Hey, too much too soon,” Xander protested, pushing her away gently but firmly. “I like you, Julie, but save the heavy stuff for a night when we haven't just met.”
Julie recoiled from him with horror in her eyes. “Oh God. I'm sorry. I'm bad. I'm so sorry.” She got to her feet and almost ran from the room, tears beginning to run down her face.
“Overreacting much?” Xander muttered, getting up to follow her. He hoped he hadn't upset her too much; he hadn't meant to lead her on, indeed wouldn't have thought they'd got anything like as far as she seemed to think they had, to judge by her reaction. He turned to the others in the game, ready to defend himself from any condemnation, but no-one seemed to have noticed anything unusual, and they had merely moved on to the next player's turn. He shrugged, and set off to find Julie.
Willow stood by the stairs, confused and on the verge of tears. A flirtatious conversation about horse-riding with Tara had suddenly turned sour. Tara had jerked back from an embrace as if scalded, told her that touching her was disgusting, and shot off to the bathroom.
Xander wandered up, still looking for Julie, and saw her expression. “You don't look happy, Will. What's up?”
“Tara's acting strange,” Willow replied miserably. “I think we've had a fight, but I don't understand how or why. How are things with you and Anya?”
“Pretty much the same. Had a fight, don't understand why, chatted to another girl who then started acting weird, now I'm looking for either Anya to see if she's forgiven me, or for Julie to calm her down. Seen either of them?”
“Saw Anya making Parker into a total laughing stock a minute ago,” Willow told him, smiling slightly at the memory.
“Yay Anya,” Xander smiled approvingly. “What about Julie? You know her, right? Red hair, doing pre-med.”
“Think I saw her going into a room over there,” Willow pointed. “She looked like she was crying.”
“Damn it, didn't mean to upset her. Could use a hand explaining things to her, but guess you'll want to sort things out with Tara. Know where Buffy and Spike are? She's their friend too, right?”
“They went upstairs, looking pretty wrapped up in each other,” Willow told him. “If they're not boinking they're probably close to it.”
“My turn now, my turn now,” Buffy insisted. She ran her lips down Spike's throat, worked her way to his chest, spent a moment on his nipples, and then continued down his stomach to his groin. The blue glow from the walls was now there all the time, glowing brighter in pulses every few seconds.
Harmony knelt in front of Riley, looking up at him adoringly. “You're so handsome,” she told him in a throaty whisper. “So tall, so big.” She lowered her head, and talking became impossible. The pulsating glow in the walls doubled in intensity, but the two couples remained oblivious.
The room into which Julie had disappeared turned out to be a cupboard, and she had locked herself in. Xander could hear her sobbing from within it, and tried to talk to her through the door, but she took no notice, so he left again to try to find one of her friends who could help him get through to her. Inside the cupboard Julie was busy slashing at her hair with an X-Acto Snap-off Blade knife, cutting it off close to her skull. “I'm bad,” she sobbed to herself. “I'm wicked. I'm disgusting. I must be punished.” The interior of the cupboard was illuminated by a dim blue glow, pulsating gently.
Willow made her way to the bathroom. The door wasn't locked, and she entered looking for Tara. There was no-one there, and she went to the sink and splashed cold water on her face. As she was drying herself she heard splashing noises from the bathtub. “Tara?” she called, went over to the bath, and pulled back the shower curtain. The bath was full of water, and she saw a boy under the water, perhaps in his early teens, fully dressed and seemingly struggling to reach the surface. Hastily she reached into the water to help him, but he vanished before she could touch him. She rose, bewildered, and turned around. The boy was standing behind her, arms folded across his chest, dripping water onto the floor. She screamed in shock. He didn't react. Willow stumbled backwards, away from the apparition, who walked forwards to the bath. He bent forwards in an oddly uncoordinated fashion, moving more as if being pushed by an unseen force than as if acting of his own volition, and thrust his head under the water. His arms reached out and grabbed the sides of the bath, and he seemed to be trying to push himself upwards, but to no avail. Again Willow reached out to help him, and again he vanished.
Xander returned to the ‘Spin the Bottle' game, and tried to find a friend of Julie's among the players. No-one took any notice of him. Some of the players had begun making out passionately; others were abusing each other, telling people they had been laughing and joking with only moments previously that they were filthy and disgusting. Only four were still spinning the bottle; they remained oblivious to the activities around them. One spun the bottle; it spun round and round, not slowing, and began in fact to accelerate.
Willow came up behind Xander as he watched the strange occurrences. “Xander. Ghost boy. Drowning in a tub. I tried to save him, but, being a ghost already, well I was way too late.”
“A ghost? What's the deal?” Xander moved slightly away from the spinning bottle. “Is every frat on this campus haunted? And if so, why do people keep coming to the parties? ‘Cause, it's not the snacks, and the games suck too.”
Tara came into the room and joined them, putting her hand on Willow's arm. “Sorry,” she said softly.
“Tara! Are you okay now?” Willow's face lit up.
“I'm okay, but, I d-don't like it here. This house ... I think we should go.”
“Think you're right,” Willow agreed. “This is getting creepy.”
The three friends turned away. At that moment the spinning bottle exploded, showering the game-players with broken glass. There were screams of fright and of pain.
“There's something bad here,” Willow announced, stating the obvious. “We need Buffy and Spike.”
“No kidding,” Xander agreed, following her upstairs. “Though if they are boinking, not going to be happy at being interrupted.”
“They'll deal,” Willow said determinedly, resolutely ignoring the two inner voices which were alternately saying ‘Yay! Chance to see Spike naked! Go for it!' and ‘No! Spike boinking somebody else, bad, run away!'
They followed the time-honoured technique of banging on doors and shouting “Buffy! Spike! You in there?” The second door they tried drew a reaction; a voice they recognised as Riley's shouted “Go away!” and then lapsed into ecstatic groaning. They didn't make it to the third door. The cracks around the door suddenly began to sprout leaves, then stems, then branches, all bristling with vicious-looking thorns. The plants began to fill the corridor, heading towards the three Scoobies menacingly.
“Fuck this,” Xander spoke for them all. “Run now, call them on the cell phone later.” They followed his suggestion and headed for the stairs as fast as they could.
“What about Riley, and I guess Harmony?” Willow asked. She looked back, saw the thorny plants still advancing, and answered her own question. “Call them later. Let's get out of here.”
The party was dissolving into chaos. The building began to shake. People began to scream and run. Apparitions mingled with the students; much younger teenagers, clad in drab clothes. One ran right through Anya, who was frantically searching for Xander. Books began to fly from shelves, bombarding the party-goers malevolently. Odd behaviour was spreading; one girl stripped naked and began pouring beer over herself, laughing hysterically; another picked up the discarded clothing and began to wrap herself in it, trying to hide all exposed flesh, sobbing that she was unclean. A young man who'd been among the ‘Spin the Bottle' players picked up a cake knife, dropped his trousers, and was about to perform an act of self-mutilation when Forrest seized him, wrenched the knife from his hands, and knocked him out.
“Graham!” Forrest called. “Give me a hand here. Get these people out to safety.” A tremor shook the building strongly enough to knock some of the crowd from their feet; those who weren't already running for the exits took to their heels at this point.
“Touch not the impure thing, or ye shall perish,” Graham replied, his eyes glazed. “Find salvation in the cross of our Lord and Saviour.”
“What the Hell?” Forrest released the unconscious student and went to his colleague. “Snap out of it, man. What's with you? We've got a situation here.”
Jonathan and his fellow Klingon enthusiast picked up the would-be self-mutilator and began to carry him to safety. Forrest gave them a grateful smile, and returned his attention to Graham, taking his arm and frog-marching him towards one of the Initiative base access doors.
Xander, Willow, and Tara made it to the bottom of the stairs. Julie emerged from the cupboard, her hair reduced to patchy clumps on an almost bald skull. “Help me!” she pleaded. Xander and Tara took her arms and helped her from the building, followed by Willow, who was leading the naked girl. As soon as they were out the tremors stopped and an eerie silence fell, broken a few seconds later when the sound system started up again of its own accord.
‘A Wonderful Time up There', by Pat Boone. The Scoobies cringed. “I've heard of Retro Chic, but this is ridiculous,” Xander moaned.
“Nobody would bring that to one of our frat parties,” Willow frowned.
“So maybe the evil force did,” Anya suggested, joining them.
“Anya!” Xander greeted her, letting go of Julie's arm and hurrying to embrace his girlfriend. Julie ran off, sobbing, in the direction of Stevenson House. Tara chased after her for a few yards, and then gave up. The naked girl rescued by Willow ran off in the opposite direction, pursued by Jonathan's Star Trek fan friend, and the Scoobies were alone except for one unconscious student.
“So, are you sorry?” Anya demanded.
Xander wasn't totally sure what he was supposed to apologise for, but wanted to get back into Anya's good graces and saw no point in arguing further. “Yes, Ahn. It's been horrible trying to have a good time without you. Just doesn't work. Are we good now?”
“I'm glad. No-one can take the place of my Xander.” Anya hugged him, and planted a big smacking kiss on his cheek. She was about to start kissing him elsewhere, but Willow stopped her.
“Maybe not such a good idea right now,” the witch advised. “Scary evil force seems to have a problem with kissage.”
“So it's got to be stopped,” Anya said determinedly. “We need Buffy, and Spike.”
“They're still in there,” Xander informed her. “Boinking, as far as we know. Behind a wall of thorns.” He pulled his cell phone from a pocket. “Time to spoil their fun.” He dialled, listened, and then frowned. “Nothing. No ringing, even. Nothing.” He dialled again. “It's not even like they've got their phones switched off. Nothing there at all. Creepy.”
“Try Harmony,” Willow suggested. Xander obeyed. “Not a thing.” He dialled Willow to check that the problem wasn't with his phone, and then tried Buffy's number again. Same result. “Looks like I'll have to do this the hard way,” he said, and walked into the building, only to be thrown straight out again by an invisible force. He landed heavily, and groaned. Anya rushed to him and helped him up.
“Maybe I can get in,” Jonathan volunteered. “I know this chant of protection.” He set off, muttering mystical phrases, and met the same fate as Xander. “No luck,” he mumbled, sitting bruised on the grass. “Maybe I'll just go home. I think ‘Danger Mouse' is on TV tonight.”
“No, stay, Jonathan,” Willow urged him. “You could be a big help to us.”
“Really?” the diminutive student asked, flattered. “Okay, count me in.”
“I think it's Watcher Time,” Xander announced. “Let's go to Giles'.”
“He won't be there,” Tara reminded him. “He said he was going to the Espresso Pump.”
“Yeah, he told us not to come. Said he needed some grownup time,” Willow added.
“Well, he's going to be out of luck,” Anya decreed. The Scoobies gathered themselves together and set off, first to the hospital to deliver the young man knocked unconscious by Forrest, and then to the Espresso Pump.
“We've got trouble upstairs. Some sort of disembodied presence in the house,” Forrest informed an Initiative scientist.
“We know. We've been paging you,” the scientist replied.
“We didn't get the signal. Whatever this thing's outputting, it must be scrambling all the frequencies,” Forrest explained.
The scientist frowned. “The electrics are malfunctioning. I'm worried about the cell door locking mechanisms. Guard Section 2, level 5 precautions. If things break loose, you know what to do.”
“Got it,” Forrest acknowledged. “Maybe you should have gone with Colonel Havilland's idea for the fixed HMG mounts.”
“There is no way we could work with a machine gun pointing at us the whole time,” the scientist snapped. “I protested at the time, and the authorities agreed. Colonel Havilland is on his way out, I'm glad to say.” He picked up a file folder and walked off.
“Rye won't be pleased to hear that Havilland's going,” Graham commented.
“You can say that again,” Forrest agreed. “You okay now? You were out of it for a while there. Crazy talk.”
“Yeah, I'm good.” Graham began to don body armour. “Not good if we lose the Colonel. I like the big guy's ideas. Waste the HSTs if they're a threat, leave them alone if they're not. Sounds good to me.”
“And to me, mostly. But to get the brass to go with his plans, he had to prove himself by bringing in Adam. And that mother has been lying low. So Havilland is going to be out.” Forrest picked up his M-16. “Let's lock it down.”
Riley lay beside Harmony, kissing her tenderly. “I don't understand how come you were a virgin,” he told her. “I hope I didn't hurt you.”
“Oh, no, it was wonderful,” she assured him. “See, I was a virgin when I was turned. So, it heals. I'll be a virgin again tomorrow night.”
“That why you've got this affinity with unicorns?” he asked, playing with the pendant that hung at her throat.
“Maybe,” she smiled. “I'd never thought of that before. You're smart. Hope I'm not too dumb for you.”
“You're fun to talk to, and beautiful, and sweet. That's all I need,” Riley replied. “And you're sexy. God, you're sexy.” His kisses grew more urgent.
“Again? Wow. You're something else.” Harmony returned his kisses, and her hand moved down his body. She giggled, and pressed close against him. Soon he was inside her yet again.
The Scoobies walked into the Espresso Pump and found it to be crowded, full of those they still termed ‘grownups' despite the fact that they were adults themselves in every legal respect apart from the right to buy alcohol in California. All were gathered around one man who was the centre of attention. Rupert Giles. Casually dressed, right down to jeans, and with an earring in one ear. Playing acoustic guitar, and singing the Who number ‘Behind Blue Eyes'. All of the Scoobies were taken aback; Xander made dismissive comments, but the girls were all impressed and said so. Jonathan kept discreetly silent.
“If you're going to turn evil again, I guess now is the time,” Buffy whispered. Her tone was teasing, but there was a hint of doubt in her eyes, a fear that her bad luck with men in the past would strike again.
“Never happen, pet. You're the face of my salvation, the light leading me from the darkness. I love you, and I always will.” Spike was nervous himself, somehow expecting Buffy to recoil from him with disgust and possibly violence, and could scarcely believe that she was still lying next to him, fondling him gently, and speaking with tenderness and affection.
“Even when I'm old and ugly?” Buffy asked, her smile returning and her eyes sparkling.
“You'll never be ugly, my love. There's this wise saying, don't get involved with a girl without checking out her mother, and your mum is a smashing bit of crackling for her age. Shagging you senseless three times a day in twenty-odd years time, not a problem for me at all.”
“Only three times a day? So you are going to go off me?” the Slayer teased.
“Well, I reckon you might want a bit of rest time by that age, love,” Spike grinned. “If you're going to prove me wrong I'll be bloody delighted.” He began to kiss her again, and then trailed his tongue down her belly, stopping at her navel and circling it several times. “But that's a long way off. It'll be a lot more than three times tonight, if you're up for it.” He moved on from her navel, and Buffy parted her legs.
“If I - was any more - up for - it I'd be - ahhh - on the ceiling,” Buffy panted. “Yes, there. Yes. You've found the pearl. Yes, mmm. Love you.”
“So the party guests were acting ‘weird' sexually, you say?” Giles asked. “In what way, exactly?” They had left the Espresso Pump as soon as he'd finished his song, and adjourned to his apartment for a traditional Scooby research session.
“Well, kinda both ways,” Willow explained. “Some were like, oh, gotta have it, and some were like, yuck, sex is disgusting.” Tara flushed guiltily and lowered her eyes.
“And some were flipping from one to the other,” Xander added, shooting a wary glance at Anya. “Julie was all over me, way more than I wanted, but when I tried to cool her down she was all ‘I'm disgusting, got to be punished', and she cut all her own hair off.”
“Fascinating,” Giles mused, removing his glasses. “A succubus, perhaps, or a satyr's prank, clashing with some form of negative energy. Perhaps something leaking from the laboratories beneath the Lowell fraternity house.”
“It wasn't always a fraternity,” Willow announced, looking up from the book she was studying. “Between 1949 and 1960, the Lowell Home for Children housed upwards of 40 adolescents. Runaways, juvenile delinquents, and emotionally disturbed teenagers from the Sunnydale area,” she read out.
“Children? Did any of them die in there?” Tara asked.
“If there were deaths, we could be dealing with a fairly standard haunting,” Giles suggested. “Complicated by the presence of the Slayer, who has much occult significance.”
“It doesn't say.” Willow read on. “It's mostly about the old house director, Genevieve Holt. ‘Thirty years of community service. Giving disadvantaged kids the love and care they deserve'.”
“When did she die?” Giles asked.
“She didn't,” Willow informed him. “Unless she's died in the past year, she's living only a couple of blocks away.”
“It is extremely late to be visiting a Senior Citizen, but I think we need to talk to her urgently,” Giles decided. “I must confess I am extremely worried about Buffy, and indeed about Spike. If they retired to a private room to, ah, advance their relationship, and then this disturbance commenced, the effects on them might be catastrophic. Harmony and Riley Finn, too. She can't hurt him, but he could hurt her, under the influence of these mood swings you report. Buffy and Spike might be in even more danger.”
Spike kissed Buffy's eyelids gently. “Not going to go to sleep,” she told him. “I remember what you said, but not tonight. I'm still Energizer Buffy. Again, again.”
“Teletubbies, the NC-17 version,” Spike snickered. “Big hug time.”
“You watch ‘Teletubbies'?” Buffy giggled. “The Big Bad?”
“You know me, love, I'll watch bloody anything,” Spike confessed. “Anyway, Po speaks Cantonese, so it's work-related. That's my excuse, anyway. What's yours?”
“Willow puts it on as an Anya repellent, because of the rabbits. And it's an insight into child psychology, so it's coursework. Plus, easy, non-demanding, relaxing after a hard night Slaying. Po speaks Cantonese? I thought it was gibberish. So that's the secret of your language skills.”
“Yeah, I'm a cunning linguist,” Spike agreed. “Speaking of which, you've been picking up tricks from Noo-Noo.”
“Another demonstration coming up,” Buffy announced, and turned around to display her ability. In so doing she presented Spike with an ideal opportunity to practice his cunning linguistic skills, and soon conversation became impossible once more.
Riley and Harmony moved together, slowly, languorously, talking as they made love, discussing what Harmony would do now she had returned to Sunnydale. “There might be a job for you with the Initiative,” Riley suggested. “Underground, no daylight, and no need to hide what you are.”
Harmony stopped moving. “No, Riley, I would never do that. I don't regret getting this chip, maybe it's even the best thing that's happened to me, but I could never be part of what the Initiative is doing. It's cruel. Kill us if you have to, but not the experiments. We're not animals. And it's cruel experimenting on animals anyway. At least cute ones like puppies, and they never seem to use yucky ones like skunks.”
“God, I'm sorry, Harmony.” Riley withdrew from her, but took hold of her and cuddled her to his chest. “Colour me dumb and insensitive. I just thought of it as practical, a job for you with good money and conditions. Didn't think it through.”
Harmony pushed him away, and reached for her clothes, but then looked again at his face, saw the regret there, and changed her mind. “You meant well, and that's all that counts. You're a good man.” She kissed him. “Make love to me again.”
Mrs. Holt was awake, much to Giles' and the Scoobies' surprise, and didn't object to meeting them to discuss her time at the Lowell Home for Children even at such an unearthly hour. They listened to the sweet old lady's account with interest which gradually turned to horror as she smilingly recounted her imposition of an appalling regime of fear and repression under the guise of love, Christianity, and the children's own good. When they left Giles was shaking with restrained fury, and Tara was quivering like a leaf.
“So, that explains the boy in the bath,” Willow said sadly. “Forced baptism. Washing away his sins, huh. Well, to the kid it must have seemed like she was drowning him.”
“Yes, indeed. Appalling. Ghastly.” Giles shook his head. “So, not ghosts. Poltergeists. A whole cluster of them, in fact, born out of intense adolescent emotion and sexual energy.”
“Both of which were totally pent up during Mrs. Holt's reign of repression,” Anya agreed.
“So Buffy and Spike doing the wild thing sort of set something free. Like a big, bursting, poltergasm,” Xander deduced.
“I can't believe nobody's ever boinked in Lowell House before,” Willow objected.
“As I said earlier, the Slayer is of great occult significance,” Giles pointed out. “Spike too, as a vampire who has turned to the side of good, symbolises two sides of nature. Another pairing of vampire and human, in close proximity, and with the sexes of the protagonists reversed, may have intensified the effects.”
“In English, please, Giles,” pleaded Xander.
“The thing between Buffy and Spike is like major league hot, what with them having waited for it for so long and everything,” Willow suggested. “Riley and Harmony too, considering how much each of them talked about the other while Harmony was in LA. Four sex bombs waiting to go off, three of them with super-powers, and they go off right in the middle of all this negative energy. Like the TNT primer in an atom bomb.”
“Yes, and now they are powering the whole thing. Providing the energy for the reaction.” Giles cleaned the lenses of his glasses, causing alarm and despondency all round. Even Jonathan was beginning to recognise the significance of this activity.
“So, they're the batteries in the boo-boo factory,” Xander seized on an explanation he could cope with. “What happens when the batteries are drained? All back to normal once they've boinked a few times and go to sleep, right?”
“I fear not. It's a chain reaction. The energies they have unleashed will keep them going long after exhaustion would normally have set in. Spike and Harmony may survive the experience, but it could be very hazardous for Buffy. And for Riley Finn, I'm afraid, it is very likely to be fatal if we can't disrupt the cycle soon.”
“How do we do that?” Anya asked. “Throw a bucket of cold water over them? Which is impossible, because we can't get to them.”
“We have three magic practitioners here, plus my own small abilities. We should be able to restrain the spirits long enough for someone to get to them and, as you say, throw cold water on them, either metaphorically or literally if necessary,” Giles told her.
“Sounds like a job for the Xan-man,” Xander declared.
“You're not going alone. I'm coming with you,” Anya announced. “Stand by your man.”
“That would be advisable,” Giles agreed. “Even restrained, the spirits could be hazardous for a lone person. But no, ah, boinking. That would only make things considerably worse.”
They moved to Buffy and Willow's dorm room to do the binding spell. Xander rummaged in Buffy's weapons chest as Willow, Tara, and Jonathan set up the materials for the ritual. “What good are weapons against disembodied spirits, Xander?” Anya asked. “They have no ass to kick.”
“Wall of thorns to get through, Ahn,” Xander pointed out. “Anyway, it's a comforting feeling, having a weapon in your hand.” He selected two machetes, passed one to Anya, and brandished the other. “California Harris and the Frat House of Doom!”
“We called the dog California!” Giles chimed in, bringing astonished stares from the teenagers. “What? I can't join in with your pop culture references?”
“It's just been quite a night for the Giles revelations. The acoustic rock god thing, the earring, and now you beat me to a quote,” Willow replied. “Sure you haven't been eating any funny chocolate?”
Giles sniffed, offended. “Set the candles up in a circle, Willow,” he ordered, not deigning to reply to her comment. “You'd best be off, Xander, Anya. The ritual should be just taking effect by the time you get to Lowell House, and I don't know how much time we'll be able to buy you.”
“Okay, we're off to fight against sex,” Xander replied. He brandished the machete again, and grinned. “To virginity and beyond!”
The ritual took effect. Giles, Willow, Tara, and Jonathan found themselves surrounded by ghostly children. Xander and Anya reached Lowell House and were able to walk in through the door without being evicted by unseen forces. The sound system was still playing, but had reverted to the chart compilation album and Pat Boone had been replaced by Shania Twain. The floor was littered with spilled drinks, broken glasses, and upset ashtrays, but it still could have passed for the normal aftermath of a wild fraternity party were it not for the thorny vines that grew all the way down the staircase. The young couple took firm grips on their machetes and began hacking their way through the growth towards Riley's room.
They made it to the door, knocked frantically but met with no response, and then Xander seized the door handle. “Not like I haven't seen Harmony naked before,” he muttered, and tried to open it, but it was locked. Anya began hacking at the vines separating them from the room occupied by Buffy and Spike, and Xander threw himself hard at the door in a shoulder-charge. The wood splintered but held. He charged again, and the door burst open. He entered, followed closely by Anya.
“What the fuck!” Riley shouted furiously. He had withdrawn from Harmony as the door began to splinter, and rose to his feet, stark naked, as Harmony grabbed for the bedclothes to cover herself. For a second it appeared that Riley was going to attack Xander, but then he saw Anya giving his genitals an appraising stare and he hastily lowered his hands to cover his groin.
“Sorry, man, but you got to stop with the boinkage,” Xander explained. “There's big trouble. You doing the wild thing set loose a poltergeist, and the party's a disaster area. Clothes on, and out of here.”
“We've got to stop boinking?” Harmony pouted. “Oh, all right. We unleashed a poltergeist? Like in that movie?”
“Sort of,” Anya agreed. “You two, and also Buffy and Spike. They're in the next room up, we think. We've got to stop them too. The witches have got the spirits calmed down for now, but we don't know how long it's going to last.”
“What the Hell are those things?” Riley exclaimed, seeing the vines for the first time as he moved to retrieve his clothes.
“Spooky thorn bushes,” Xander told him. “Hence the machete. Gotta hack my way through them to get to the other two. Could use some help once you've got your clothes on.”
“Glad to,” Riley assented, pulling on his boxer shorts.
Meanwhile, at Stevenson House, Willow's concentration was wavering. She had started to think about Xander and Anya walking in on Spike and Buffy, and to imagine herself in Buffy's place, and the spell began to weaken. A wind sprang up, a loud screeching noise sounded, and the ghostly children began to gesticulate angrily. Tara was forced to shout to make her part of the chant audible. Suddenly the candles went out, the ritual table crashed over onto its side, and the children's images vanished.
“What happened? Did we dispel it?” Jonathan asked.
“No.” Tara was worried. “The spell broke. We lost them.”
Willow swallowed, feeling guilty, knowing it was her fault the spell had failed. “Xander's gonna be in trouble.”
Xander was indeed in trouble. The ghostly children had become solid enough to seize him, drag him to the bathroom, and subject him to forced baptism in the freezing water of the bathtub. Letting him up to breathe didn't seem to be part of the poltergeist's interpretation of baptism, and he was in real danger of drowning. Riley and Harmony found themselves sealed firmly in the bedroom, unable to get out to help him, and Anya was blown over the balcony by a howling wind. She landed on a sofa, escaped injury, and charged up the stairs slashing furiously at the vines with her machete. She grabbed hold of a bare stretch of vine to steady herself as she slashed, and a thorn grew out of it to penetrate her hand. She cried out in pain, pulled out the thorn, and continued her advance, her lips set determinedly.
She made it to Xander in the nick of time, and pulled him from the water just as he could hold his breath no longer. She held him as he gasped for air, and then he struggled to his feet. “Come on. We gotta stop this thing, it's getting worse,” he panted. They resumed their attempts to make their way along the passage. The vines grabbed for Anya and entangled her; Xander cut and pulled her free. Harmony, now dressed, smashed to matchwood the door that had been imprisoning her and came out to assist them, as did Riley. Eventually the four made it to Forrest and Graham's room, in which Buffy and Spike were still blissfully copulating. Ground Zero of the sex bomb. Xander threw open the door, knocking over the chair that they had placed against it, and all four of the rescue party burst into the room.
Spike and Buffy froze. She was lying on her back, one leg up against his chest, and he was sucking her toes as he thrust into her. Anya stared, mentally taking notes for future use.
“Bloody Hell! Knock next time, you pillocks!” Spike yelled, releasing Buffy's foot. She brought her arms across to cover her breasts and glared at the intruders, who turned crimson as they burst into hasty explanations.
“So, Buffy's luck with the boinking continues to be bad. Except this time it was just bad for everybody else. For me it was good. Major good. Mega-fantastic good,” Buffy told Willow, back in their dorm room.
“That's nice,” Willow replied insincerely, fighting back jealousy.
“Nice? It's great. ‘Course, we're not going to be doing it there again. But let us know when you're going to be staying over at Tara's, and we'll put this room to good use.”
‘I won't be jealous. I've got Tara. I won't be jealous,' Willow scolded herself. “Sure thing, Buff. Make with the Spike-loving. Go Buffy. Glad it's working out for you.”
“This doesn't mean I won't be able to do it with Riley in his room any more, does it?” Harmony asked, worriedly. “'Cause Anya's place, not room to swing a cat even when she's not there. I need a place of my own.”
“I believe it would be perfectly safe for you to continue your relationship with Riley Finn in the fraternity house in future, as long as Buffy and Spike avoid the place,” Giles assured her. “At least as far as poltergeists are concerned. There are other aspects to the relationship which do cause me some concern.”
“Like him being in the Initiative, you mean? Well, if they change their minds about me being okay, he's gonna give me a heads-up and I'll be outta here like a shot. Hope it doesn't come to that. Everybody seemed pretty okay with me last night. Maybe if I can get a line on Adam I can prove I'm one of the good guys.”
“I do hope you're not going to put yourself in danger,” Giles told her disapprovingly.
“Don't worry. Coward is my middle name. Well, actually, Alicia is my middle name, but hey. No way I'm going to do anything dumb. Well, dumb yes, risky no.” Harmony went to Giles, and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for being worried about me. Gotta run.”
“So, you did it with the undead. Don't know how you could do that, man.” Forrest frowned at Riley as the three Initiative agents worked together to fit a new door to Riley's room. “I just don't get it.”
“Undead or not, she's a lovely girl, and I don't regret a thing. She's funny, she's a great dancer, and I like being with her.” Riley picked up a screwdriver, smiled at his friend, and played his trump card. “And she swallows.”
“Oh.” Forrest fell silent, the wind taken out of his sails.
Graham grinned at Riley. “Does she have a friend?”