•••

Dawn rubbed her eyes and yawned. Why wouldn’t Buffy let her learn magic—just a little? The teenager only wanted enough knowledge to make fresh, hot coffee appear on demand. Was that too much to ask? She was pretty sure Buffy was being unreasonable. After all, the Slayer was the one making Dawn get up at three in the morning.

As sure as sunrises, the Slayer appeared a few minutes later. “What’s the scoop?” Buffy asked as she jogged into the office. Willow was a few steps behind her, groggy but conscious.

“Yagnih demons, five unidentifiable victims, at an after-party east of campus,” Dawn read from the computer screen. “Time estimate gives us about an hour to get there.”

Willow immediately went to the library to look up Yagnih demons. Buffy, in the meantime, gathered up their standard supplies. “Hey, we got lucky,” Willow announced as she walked back to the others, book in hand. “Not that strong, and susceptible to a stake through the heart.”

“Let’s roll, then,” Buffy announced, urging the others towards the door. She may have appeared peppy, but getting woken up at three in the morning by the shrill e-mail notification system they’d set up wasn’t her favorite thing. Lorne had had made his displeasure clear before she’d come downstairs. Her response had been the same as the last time it had happened; if you don’t like it, move back into the club. The green demon never did, so she figured he just liked to complain.

“Can I drive?” Dawn asked as they reached the car. Willow slid into the back seat, not wanting to get into this conversation again.

Buffy snorted. “No, you cannot drive.”

“But there’s nobody on the streets! Besides, I’m never going to get any better if I don’t practice,” Dawn whined, already taking position in the passenger seat. She knew each time she asked what the answer would be, but that didn’t stop her. Hey, she was an optimist. Life on the Hellmouth, and later in Los Angeles, had taught her to always hope for the best.

Buffy didn’t bother with a retort as she drove towards campus. As they got closer, Dawn gave more precise directions to the location in Cordelia’s visions. Over the past year, the three young women had gotten into a rhythm—Dawn retrieved the vision-mail when it arrived, Willow researched whatever needed to be researched, and Buffy directed the team. When they did happen to need muscled backup, Lorne would call up a few friends, who would do whatever needed to be done. That didn’t happen nearly as often anymore, since both Dawn and Willow had become very proficient hands-on investigators.

“Um, turn here,” Dawn said. “It should be that house—the one with the square pillars.”

“Ok,” Buffy started as they piled out of the car. “Remember the rules—no taking on multiple bad guys, try to get the vics out of the way, and ask for compensation.”

“Yagnih demons usually only surface to harvest organs,” Willow murmured as they walked up the street. “Mostly spleens.”

“That’s nasty. Why can’t demons come up in hordes to harvest Twinkies and Zingers?” Dawn asked petulantly.

“I’m with you on that one,” Buffy muttered. Hells, if there was such a thing as a Twinkie-eating demon, she’d hire him in a heartbeat. Then again, she already knew one of those—Xander. Unfortunately he was off in the great unknown, sending her his visions via e-mail.

The slaying went pretty much by the books—Buffy took down the majority of the squat, baby-faced demons, while Willow and Dawn ran damage control. Most of the partygoers were either drunk, stoned or both, so it wasn’t difficult to convince them that they’d been in the midst of a swarm of sewer rats that had been attracted to the premises by the presence of garbage, alcohol, and numerous health code violations. The rodent ploy worked in their favor; most people were willing to pay exterminators handsomely to get rid of the problem, without reporting the incident to the health department.

Unfortunately for Buffy and the others, the job was typical enough that they received their normal dose of slime and goo. This time the stench was a cross between rotten eggs and spoilt milk—not a combination made in heaven. “Did they pay up?” Buffy snarled as she helped Dawn spread tarps over the front seat.

“Yeah, really well,” Dawn replied. “Almost made up for the last time.” The last vision had been a disaster—oh, the innocents had been saved, but they’d been snotty rich people who’d threatened to call the cops on Buffy—after she’d saved their ungrateful hides.

“I guess that makes the slime ok,” Buffy mumbled.

“Unless this stuff…clings,” Willow remarked. “Then, I’m not so sure. Maybe baking soda?”

“Gods, if I smell like this all day…” Buffy started.

“If it doesn’t come out, I’m so skipping school,” Dawn swore. “Buffy, you cannot make me go to class smelling like a garbage can.”

Buffy grimaced. She hated letting the vision and investigative work interfere with Dawn’s education, but then again she’d missed a day or ten because of slaying… and she didn’t want to torture any other students with this stench. “If it doesn’t come out, yeah. But if it does, you have to go—and take that history test you’ve been dreading.”

“Fine,” Dawn replied quickly. She wasn’t going to press her luck. “Did Lorne complain again?”

“Lorne always complains,” Willow said laughingly. “This time, I heard him all the way down the hall—Slayer, if you don’t turn that blasted thing off, I’m going to take a sledgehammer to it!”

“He says that every time,” Buffy remarked. “But he never does anything about it.”

Dawn grinned. Lorne knew a good thing when he saw it, and he wasn’t about to risk pissing off Buffy now that he’d finally gotten his hands on her. It had taken the green demon nearly eight months after Angel and the others had left to get Buffy to go out with him—and that had been with Dawn and Willow’s help. The two girls thought they made a cute couple—and now Buffy had someone who really liked to talk about fashion.

The teenager’s next goal was Willow. The redhead was pretty much back to normal, in terms of functionality. She no longer cried herself to sleep, or fazed out at odd times. Buffy had officially hired her on at Eos, giving her a position somewhere in between Cordelia’s and Wes’s old jobs—sort of a receptionist/researcher person of all trades. She stayed as far away from magic as she could, but that was to be expected. Lorne had once again stepped in to fill the gap there, either doing the spells they needed or finding someone who could. Dawn helped him when she could, within the confines that Buffy put on her.

Now that Willow was better, Dawn wanted her to have a life beyond work. They hung around in Caritas a lot, chatting with the regulars and trying not to laugh at the really bad karaoke. Dawn had thought that maybe Willow would take an interest in someone there, but so far she hadn’t. Maybe she wasn’t as into demons as Buffy was.

Dawn felt sure she’d find someone for Willow, though. The young woman had a lot going for her—brains, beauty, a personality most people fell in love with instantly… and she seemed to like both boys and girls. It couldn’t be that hard, no harder than finding Dawn herself a date for the prom. Well, she hoped it would actually be easier than that. She hadn’t met anyone at school she wanted to go to the dance with—the guys were mostly so immature she couldn’t stand them, and most of the girls who were open to that sort of thing weren’t her type.

•••

“Well?” Wil asked impatiently, pacing behind Cordelia with a mug of blood and chocolate in one hand.

“Jeez, impatient much?” Cordelia muttered. “Dawn says they got rid of the demons, and managed to get paid too. See, everything’s fine,” She said. “Stop worrying.”

“I’ll worry as I wish to,” Wil snapped. “She’s a kid, Cordelia.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, a kid with a Slayer for a big sister, and an ex-witch besides. Both of them were facing worse than Yagnih demons at her age. Besides, they aren’t going to let anything happen to her. You know that.”

Wil sighed. “I know. I just wish we were there!”

“As opposed to here?” Cordelia remarked.

“You like it here?” Wil asked skeptically.

“Oh yeah, I’m so in love with this place, spending my days digging up dirt on senators from Connecticut circuit court judges in Arkansas!” Cordelia shot back.

“At least you aren’t a checkout boy at Wal-Mart,” He lobbed her way.

“Hey, that’s right, you got a promotion,” Cordelia said. “Like the smock?”

“’S not a promotion,” He argued. “And no, I don’t like it. Stock boys don’t have to talk to the customers all the time. ‘Did you find everything alright?’ ‘May I see a driver’s license? You can’t purchase acrylic paints unless you’re 18, you know!’. Bloody hell.”

Cordelia giggled. Had she not seen it herself, she wouldn’t have believed Wil worked at Wal-Mart. But one night she and Angel had gone out on a doughnut run and stopped by to see for themselves… and found Wil working the cigarette lane, looking miserable. “But you could be Xander, you know.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Wil murmured. “Fuck! Did Gunn remember to bring the car by for him?”

The seer frowned. “The car… no, I think he’s still got it out. Why?”

“Because Fred’s got the Taurus, over at the library. Xander will have to walk to work,” Wil commented. “And he’s not going to like it.”

Cordelia shrugged. “No, but it won’t hurt him. It’s only five miles.”

“Hmm. Maybe I should pick him up after, though,” Wil said, mostly to himself. He and Xander had gotten the most demeaning jobs of the lot of them, so the two men often banded together for mutual self-defense. Xander was still a short-order cook, and still normally worked nights, although today he had a day shift. Oz was now tending bar instead of mopping up afterwards, and Gunn had taken on a full-time position at the convenience store.

“If you want. It might be a good idea, actually,” Cordelia said. “It’ll be dark when he gets off work.”

“Better than making Oz push it to get to work on time, and you know he won’t let Xander walk home after dark,” Wil replied.

“Damned alpha,” Cordelia muttered. The four werewolves had coalesced into a tight-knit pack, more than just Oz and Cordelia had ever been alone. The rainbow-haired musician was still alpha, although he didn’t boss the others around much. Still, they grumbled about him like they were supposed to.

“Well, I’d better finish that research you wanted,” Wil said, taking a seat in front of his computer. Cordelia had assigned him the thankless task of cross-referencing bank statements to figure out where several politicians were funneling their Wolfram & Hart bribes. There were moments when he seriously considered staking the damned computer, it was so frustrating.

•••

“One more time,” Wesley murmured, scratching his head. “How exactly is sending an inflammatory letter to an abortion clinic going to unmask Senator McLedon’s illegally earned income?”

Cordelia and Fred stared at each other. They’d only explained it six times already. “Look, the good Senator is an ‘unofficial’ supporter of this anti-abortion group, Infant’s Militia. They’re suspected of bombing six family-planning clinics in the northwest,” Cordelia began again. “The letter is going to provide a tie between him and the organization.”

“And that helps how?” Wesley asked.

“They’re being investigated by the government, for fraud and tax evasion,” Fred explained. “If the government gets their hands on viable proof that the Senator is financially supporting the group, they’ll look into his finances.”

“And they may start their own investigation of him, even though they might not find any actual connection between him and this organization?” Wesley inquired.

“There’s a good chance of it, yes,” Cordelia stated. “Particularly since we’ve already raised government awareness of a few dummy corporations that are simply Wolfram & Hart’s fronts. He’s got money in them, and that should make the government look twice.”

“Why haven’t they done so already?” Wesley asked. “If these other corporations are under watch, wouldn’t they have tracked him down by now?”

“Not necessarily,” Fred replied. “Right now, they’re only watching new transactions and business, and his money is established and not moving. He’s probably waiting until the government drops their investigation of the dummy corporations before moving it.”

“Ah. Well, if you think it will work,” Wesley murmured. “Oh, and I did submit the anonymous letter you requested,” He told Cordelia.

“Great! Now, just make sure to keep up with it online. We’ll see what happens,” She replied. They had drafted a letter detailing the bribes taken in by a certain district attorney, planning to mail it to a couple of watchdog groups. With any luck, he’d be booted out of office.

“Where’s the car?” Oz asked from the doorway.

Cordelia looked up. “Wil took it to pick up Xander,” She replied.

“K. See you in the morning,” He said as he left for work.

“Where’s the car?” Angel inquired as he walked into the room.

“The Taurus or the Cavalier?” Cordelia asked. “Because Gunn has the Taurus, and Wil and Xander have the Cavalier.”

“Oh,” Angel murmured. “Are any of them coming back?” He needed to go pick up fresh blood.

“Xander’s bringing the car back once he drops Wil off,” Cordelia answered. “Give him half an hour, ok?”

“Thanks,” Angel murmured, walking back out of the room before she could assign him any new work.

“He could’ve hitched a ride with Wil,” Cordelia grumbled. “But no, he had to have that extra half-hour of sleep.”

Fred and Wesley wisely remained silent. They knew better than to tangle with a short-fused Cordelia. Perhaps Gunn could get her to relax a little once he got home.