Chapter Seven—Bachelor Party

Author's Note: Thanks to AllenPitt for his idea of calling Kennedy's group the 'Scrappy' Gang...

~~~KtVS~~~

Kennedy grinned at her roommate as she ate her cereal. "So there's a new guy?"

Veruca gave her a coy look. "Maybe."

"Spill! I need to live vicariously, dammit!"

Amused, Veruca said, "Whatever happened to lesbians getting laid more than the rest of us?"

Morosely, Kennedy sighed. "If they are, nobody told me. I got more than this back in New York."

Curious, Veruca asked, "Your folks cool with that?"

Kennedy shrugged. "Who knows? They probably think it's a 'phase'. Enough about me, spill about your honey."

"He's in a local band. And he's not my honey. Not yet anyway. Besides he's with this girl. Complete mouse. Totally wrong for him. He needs a bit more... beast in his girl, I think."

Kennedy gave her a doubtful look. "You sure? It's never a good idea to hook up with the involved ones. You always end up being the other woman. Plus, it seems like there's always another 'other' woman with you, too."

Veruca gave an airy wave. "Don't rain on my parade, Kennedy. Even if it doesn't work out, I can deal. But I got a good feeling. After all, who can resist this?" She gestured up and down her body, making Kennedy burst out laughing. After a moment, Veruca joined in.

~~~KtVS~~~

Warren drew a shuddering breath. He had just laid bare every last aspect of his life to the man who sat across from him. He had never felt so naked. But at the same time, there was an intense sense of relief. Warren felt almost limp, as if he couldn't summon the energy to care about anything else. Meeting Notty's eyes, instead of the complete disgust he'd expected, Warren saw a look of acknowledgment, as if Notty understood just how difficult it had been for Warren to admit the things he had.

"Warren, you don't know anymore about the man who you sold the blaster design to?" Notty's voice was once again the calm, cultured one he affected when he wasn't trying to intimidate. Thank God for that, Warren thought in relief.

"No, I don't. I just hook up the scrambler and call the number. Without the scrambler hooked up, the number doesn't ring. It just shows up as an out of service phone number. And you can't tell anything from the voices. They're all exactly the same, like they're using voice modulators."

"Interesting." Notty stroked his chin absentmindedly as he contemplated Warren's explanation. At least that was what Warren was hoping he was contemplating. He'd worn a similar look on his face earlier when he'd discussed consequences of not telling him everything. Consequences that included pliers, needles, and hot irons.

"I'll stop selling stuff to him. I'm sorry..."

"No." That single statement hung in the air between them. Then Notty explained, "I don't want you to stop selling stuff to 'Mr. Smith', Warren. The money you get from him is funding your research, as well as its practical application, correct?"

"Yes."

Notty's eyes took on an odd gleam. "Then I don't want you to stop selling to him. What I do want you to do is to not sell him anything without clearing it through me first."

"But..."

"Warren, you do realize that you are an idiot, do you not?"

Warren started to react defensively, then stopped. As much as he hated to admit it, Notty was never rude or insulting to be cruel. It was to make a point. So the point he was making had to be a valid one. Warren slowly put it together, and finally answered with, "I'm undervaluing what I'm selling him, right?"

Notty's manner took on an air of approval. "Exactly. The blaster you sold him could have been worth millions, possibly more, to his organization. The money would have financed you for years. Instead, you gave it away. Before you sell another item, you and I will evaluate it together, possibly with Andrew's advice as well, before you notify Mr. Smith of the new price. I suspect he'll be unhappy, but will cough up the funds. Or he'll break in and try to steal it."

Warren stared at Notty. "You really think he'll break in?"

"It's a possibility. If you don't already have serious encryption on your computers, I recommend you get some immediately."

Warren smiled smugly. "I have the best encryption there is. It's a 256-bit hex... whoa." Warren stopped. He just now registered what Notty had said. Carefully, trying to keep his voice as inflectionless as possible, Warren asked, "Did you say to get Andrew's advice?"

Notty nodded. "Of course." He sighed. "I realize that Andrew can be a bit of a wanker at times. His repressed feelings of homosexuality are causing him to act out, just as your own feelings about your mother have caused your issues. But do not sell him short. He is quite an intelligent young man, and has made strides already in his study of magic. Additionally, he is such a... nerd, I believe you call it, that he is bound to have ideas about the application of items that you and I might not."

Warren slowly nodded. It made sense, in an odd, gerbil-up-Richard-Gere's-ass kind of way. Andrew did have a weird and crazy imagination. Although truthfully, Warren wasn't looking forward to a brainstorming session with both Andrew and Notty present. Still, it would be interesting.

Notty's manner grew brisk. "Now that the issue of your inventions and the source of your funds is out of the way, let's get down to another, equally important matter."

Warren wasn't looking forward to this. Ever since he'd admitted his feelings and desires, he'd known something was coming. Still, better to face it now than later. "You want me to go to therapy?"

Notty nodded approvingly. "Exactly. Warren, you can no longer hide your feelings of hatred for women. I believe that you are far too close to an episode where you'll act out on those... desires we spoke of. I see prison or possibly death lying within your near future if you don't seek help."

"What if it doesn't help? I can't just-"

Notty's voice grew silken, with a thread of steel running through it. "Warren, this is non-negotiable. Even if you quit helping Kennedy tomorrow, you will go talk to someone. I have a number you can call. Fortunately, this person is clued into the the darker aspects of Sunnydale, so you don't have to hide that what goes bump in the night."

Warren hung his head. "Do you really think it'll help?" He asked in a whisper.

"I do. Even if it just gets the feelings out in the open, that will help a great deal. But most importantly, by seeking help, you show that you truly do want to change. And the first step to change is an honest desire to do so. Cheer up, Warren, I suspect your therapist will be able to make some suggestions that will alleviate a great many of your tensions. Anya appears to be a very flexible young woman and I'm sure she'll be able to accommodate your..."

"Argh! I don't want to talk about it anymore. I'll go see the therapist, okay? Just don't bring up... that." Warren was aware he was sweating again, almost as badly as he had during the initial stages of their conversation when he wasn't sure if he would get out of the apartment alive. Still, there was one more matter to bring up. "I do need to talk to you about Anya, though."

Notty nodded and waited. Warren gather his thoughts, then said, "Anya's a little... weird. She tends to say things that are on her mind pretty much all the time. It's like, whatever filter that we got growing up, Anya missed out on. And I think I know why."

Notty nodded. "Go on."

"That big demon at Willy's knew Anya. Except he called her 'Anyanka'. He acted as if he knew her from a long time ago. But Anya's not even twenty-one. How could a demon know her from a long time ago? Wait! I remember now. Anya said back in fifty-nine, like she was talking about 1959. Do you think that Anya is a demon?"

Notty's look grew thoughtful. "It's possible. There are several species of demons that can pass for human. She could be one of those or possible a shape-shifter or perception-distorter."

Warren grew alarmed. "You mean she might not even be a girl after all? But we..."

Notty interrupted, "Need I remind you, Warren, that you were the one who didn't want to tell me about your bedroom proclivities?"

Warren quickly shook his head. "No, you don't. Still, I think I'm going to be sick. And I need to shower, right now."

"Ask her to come over here later today. I'll have the entire group here and we can discuss it. In the meantime, I'll research the name and see if there is anything on it."

Glumly, Warren nodded. After another few minutes of conversation, he trudged out of Notty's apartment. What ever happened to good old beating the shit outta someone who screwed up, he thought.

~~~KtVS~~~

Kennedy took a deep breath, then knocked briskly. After a moment, the door opened. Tara stood there, dressed in a flowered dress that hid more than it showed. She ducked her head and gave Kennedy a shy smile. "Hi, K-K-Kennedy."

Kennedy smiled back. "Hey, Tara. How are you doing?"

Tara's smile faltered just a little, then she said, "I-I-I'm a little t-t-tired, but o-otherwise, o-okay."

"That's good. I just wanted you to know that Veruca's okay. I got to her in time." But not in time to save Ben. He was still dead and his family didn't even know what had happened to him. Notty had promised to deliver the wallet back to his family and would probably do so, but they still wouldn't know what happened to him.

Tara was staring at her. "W-what's wrong, K-Kennedy?"

"I... nothing."

Tara ducked her head away at Kennedy's short tone. Goddammit, but I'm pissed off, Kennedy thought. She shouldn't be around Tara right now, she was only going to hurt the sweet girl. "Look, Tara, this was a mistake. I need to go."

The other girl looked crushed. "She sat down on her bed and bowed her head, hair hiding her features. "I-i-it's o-o-o-okay, K-K-Kennedy. I-I-I understand."

Fuck! I'm just not good at stuff like this, Kennedy thought. But she couldn't leave the shy, vulnerable girl alone. Not thinking that Kennedy didn't want to be around her. She went over and sat on the bed next to Tara, and put her arm around her. Tara stiffened for a moment, then relaxed and leaned into the caress. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I had to do something pretty awful last night. It still hurts so much."

Kennedy managed to keep her tears at bay, but it was hard. It became even harder when Tara hugged her back.

~~~KtVS~~~

Doyle shook his head as the last vestiges of the vision disappeared. That had been the second time in as many hours that he had had the same vision. The Powers were trying to tell him something and they weren't being subtle about it. He turned to his companion who stood next to him. "I'm going to have ta leave for a bit, mate."

Gunn gave him a cool stare and asked, "Why for? We got those bloodsuckers on the run. Now you want to up and split? That ain't cool, man."

Doyle shrugged. "Look, I told you when I first came to ya that I was only here for a brief time. I have to go where me visions take me. And I just had the same vision twice. So, it's off to Sunnydale for me, but I suspect I'll be back here sooner or later. I'll call you with a number where I can be reached when I get there, okay? That way, if you ever really need me, you can give me a call."

Gunn looked indifferent, then he seemed to reconsider. "Fuck. Look, Doyle, man, I really appreciate what you did for my boys 'n me. You saved a lot of lives in dis hood, and I ain't forgetting that. If ya ever need us, don't hesitate. Hear?"

Doyle nodded and exchanged a quick slap and shake with him. He needed to get his stuff and get out of here. The situation he needed to prevent was coming up on Monday. I wonder if I can catch a bus that'll get me there by then, he wondered as he walked home.

~~~KtVS~~~

Anya watched with boredom as Notty called the meeting to attention. "This is the first ever official meeting of the friends and supporters of the Slayer and..."

Andrew stood up. "Oh wise leader, we cannot call ourselves the 'friends and supporters of the Slayer.' It's completely wrong for us."

Warren asked, "Then what should we call ourselves?"

In a snarky tone, Kennedy said, "We could always call ourselves the A-Team."

Andrew quickly shook his head. "Nooo! That wouldn't make any sense at all. I mean, who would be Mr. T? I don't see any large, ruggedly handsome black men with Mohawks here with us, do any of you?" He looked around to make his point.

Veruca raised her hand. "We could always call ourselves the Roadies. Cause roadies support the band and we support Kennedy."

Warren snorted and got a glare from Veruca. "That's completely lame. Might as well call ourselves 'Entourage.'"

Veruca gave him a sickly, sweet smile. "Then what do you suggest, oh great and powerful nerd?"

Warren shrugged. "I don't have a suggestion. But it would be better than that if I did. Andrew, why the fuck did you ever bring this up?"

"I, Andrew the..." He stopped, glancing warily at Notty, then continued, "Andrew Wells, think that we should call ourselves the 'Scrappies.'"

Kennedy blew a raspberry, which was echoed by Veruca. "Wait, people! Hear me! We're like Scooby Doo, solving mysteries and stuff, but we're also kind of not a traditional group of Scoobies. I mean, Veruca's a werewolf, Kennedy's a lesbian, Warren's more of a mad genius, Anya's a demon, Notty's..."

Anya, who hadn't really been paying attention up until now, did catch the reference to her as a demon. She jumped up and walked over to right in front of Andrew. Staring right in his eyes, she growled, "What did you just say, Andrew?"

He gulped, and said, "You're a demon?" He ran behind Kennedy's chair. "Please don't hurt me, oh great and powerful Anyanka."

Notty stepped in. "That is quite enough, Andrew. I don't think you need to carry this charade any further. The 'Scrappies' indeed." He gave Anya a level look that made promises on several levels.

Anya stared at the old human. Great, one foot in the grave, and he still manages to be one of the most menacing beings she'd ever been around since D'Hoffryn. "What's going on?" Carefully, she didn't look at Warren. She felt vulnerable and betrayed, and wasn't going to have sex with Warren for at least three days while she made him get on his knees and apologize for making her go through this. As terrible as it was giving up orgasms, it would make the point with him.

Notty gave her a frank look. "So, you are Anyanka? Is that right?"

Anya shook her head at the stupidity of it all. "Hardly. Would I be hanging out with you losers if I still had the powers of a Vengeance Demon? These days, I'm just plain ol' Anya."

He pursued the matter. "But you were Anyanka? What happened? How did you lose your powers?"

"Like I'm supposed to tell you so that you can go around destroying the power centers of more helpless Vengeance Demons? I'd rather face horde upon horde of bunnies."

Notty smiled in a way that made Anya insides quiver. Without glancing at Warren, she upped that to four days. "If you like, I'm sure I could persuade you."

Quailing inside, Anya managed a shrug, and, defeated, said in a sulky tone, "Fine. It's all the Slayer's fault. I was brought to Sunnydale by a scorned woman's pain, but the silly cow wished vengeance on the Slayer, not on those who hurt her. The wish backfired, as magic so often does that is aimed at Slayers. It-"

Kennedy interrupted, "Magic aimed at Slayers backfires? That doesn't make sense."

Anya gave her a pitying look. "When you're eleven hundred years old, you can make that statement. Until then, you should listen to your elders." Anya's voice took on a lecturing quality. "Magic aimed at a Slayer almost invariably causes something far worse than the spell that is being cast to befall the caster. Why this one time, back in Constantinople, this warlock cast a-"

This time, Notty interrupted her, "You were saying about it being the Slayer's fault."

Anya sighed and continued, "Sorry about getting side-tracked. Anyway, Cordelia wished vengeance against Buffy and the next thing you know, reality was back to normal and my power center was missing. Where is the justice in that?"

"Buffy was the Slayer?"

"Sure. She and friends had been fighting vampires and demons for years."

Notty asked, "Where are they now?"

Anya shrugged. "I don't know. It's not as if they're my bosom buddies or anything. I was never part of their little group. Anyway, there was the small matter of an Ascension about to happen so I split town. I only got back around the time that Warren and I started dating. The only reason I came back was to talk to my almost-boyfriend and see how things were going, but then I met Warren. By the way, Warren, don't expect me to be doing that thing with my tongue that you like for at least five days!" Maybe six if I keep getting grilled, Anya thought sulkily.

Warren winced. "Anya, what did we talk about when my friends are around?"

"You don't want me to tell people about what you like to do in bed. I don't understand what the big deal is. So what if you like me to spank-"

"Anya!"

She shrugged. Maybe four days. That felt at least a little like vengeance, she thought smugly. Then Notty started in again. "An Ascension? Are you sure?"

"Yes. The Mayor of Sunnydale was about to turn into an Olvikan."

Kennedy interrupted with, "What's the big, Notty? I fight demons all the time."

Notty shook his head. "Not like this, you don't. This was a pure demon. It would have been enormous, easily mistaken for a large dinosaur."

Kennedy gulped, "Dinosaur?"

Notty nodded. "Exactly. Now Anya, please tell me the name of the Slayer."

"Buffy Summers."

Andrew chimed in with, "That's the girl that won the 'Class Protector' award during prom. She broke up Tucker's hellhound revenge on the prom."

Warren nodded. "Yeah, I remember her breaking the wrist of one of those swim-team assholes back when I was a senior. She was like a weirdness magnet."

Notty looked pole-axed at the name and associations. To Anya, he asked, "Are you sure?"

Bored, Anya answered, "Yes."

"Are you absolutely certain?"

Irritated, Anya barked, "If you keep asking me that, we'll be here all night. I don't say things I'm not sure about."

Kennedy, looking unsure, asked her Watcher, "What's going on, Notty?"

Notty massaged the bridge of his nose. With a sigh, he stopped and explained, "I have only hearsay regarding the name Buffy Summers. The Council is split into factions who are keeping secrets. I've been frozen out by the two leading factions. But one of the things I did manage to gather in the past two years is that Buffy Summers was a recent Slayer. She died at some point in the last two to five years. I couldn't garner any more information than that. I also can't reconcile that fact with the Slayer that's been running around Sunnydale for the past three years. Anya, you say that Buffy Summers is alive?"

Anya shrugged again. "She was the last time I saw her, but that was a few months ago. Personally, I think the Mayor ate her when he Ascended." What was the big deal, she wondered?

~~~KtVS~~~

Notty felt himself growing angrier and angrier. Those complete bastards, he thought. He wasn't sure if he was going to kill Travers first, or Wyndam-Price. Could they both be in on it? It seemed unlikely since they headed the two leading factions for control of the Slayer. He shook his head. Quentin, at least, had to know. Had to know there was another Slayer running around. How on Earth had that happened?

Kennedy asked him, "Notty, what's going on? I can tell you're upset, but why? What's the significance of there being two Slayers?"

Notty sighed heavily, then stated, "The Council has always maintained that there can be only one Slayer at a time. They've gone to great lengths to prove it. There have been at least two Slayers who have died but then been revived. Supposedly, neither possessed her powers after being revived. At least according to the records that the Council has, their Watcher's Diaries and such."

Kennedy's eyes widened as she made the connection. "But there were at least two Slayers for an extended period of time. Me and this 'Buffy.'"

He nodded brusquely. "Exactly. So why are they lying? I can only suppose that the Slayers that disappeared after 'losing' their powers were used somewhere else. Unfortunately, I do not know where that somewhere might be. But I suspect they were used as assassins, possibly to silence dissent within the Council itself."

Kennedy looked sickened. "Do you think that's what Buffy is doing right now? Killing people for the Council?"

Notty just shook his head. "I don't know, Kennedy. I just don't know."

~~~KtVS~~~

Riley stood outside of Psych 105 and waited for Kennedy. He wasn't going to get caught up again in a rush of needy students like last time, so he tried to be as discreet as possible as he lurked. After a moment, she came out. He fell into step beside her. "Hey, Kennedy."

She gave him a sideways look. "What's up, Riley?"

Riley fell into his cover story. "I'm doing a quick and dirty experiment and need some data from as big a pool as possible. Since I have the psychological evaluations for everyone in class from that project earlier in the semester, I figured I would use you all as a study set so that I already have a leg up."

Kennedy shrugged. "Sure. What do you need to know? I gotta warn you that I don't lust after my father or mother, though."

Riley smiled. "It's nothing like that. Instead, I need to know what you dressed up as for Halloween and why." He used the clipboard he had along as a prop, ready to pretend to take notes.

Kennedy looked suspicious, but when he merely waited with an expectant look on his face, finally said, "I dressed up as Sailor Neptune. The reason was that she's a cool lesbian hottie. Nothing any deeper than that."

Riley felt a sense of triumph. He discarded the clipboard and asked, "So who went dressed as Han Solo? The tall, nerdy guy?"

Riley could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise as Kennedy gave him a cold, flat stare full of menace. "You fuck! You tricked me, you sonuvabitch! You're one of those soldier guys, aren't you? Fuck! I should never have trusted you."

"Look, Kennedy, I have some questions about what happened that night. Questions I'm going to need the answers to or I'm going to have to report what happened. I-"

She gave him the finger. "Fuck. You." She turned and walked off. Unhappily, Riley watched her go. He felt his guts churning as he contemplated telling all of this to Professor Walsh. She was going to have a conniption. At the very least. He might even end up brought up on charges, unless he was exceedingly careful how he presented things. What might happen to Kennedy, if they thought she was an HST, made him exceedingly nervous.

Ultimately, Riley didn't want to report her, but Kennedy's reaction to his knowledge made him very concerned about how much of a threat she presented. He'd hoped that she would talk to him about it, not act as if she was about to put him in the hospital. Riley didn't doubt for a minute that she was capable of doing exactly that. He was struggling to balance the girl who had saved the lives of his friends with the one who had menaced him just now and who appeared to have tremendous capacity to hurt people. It was making his head hurt.

"Excuse me."

Riley turned, glad for an interruption of his thoughts. "What can I do for you?"

The man, dressed scruffily in worn khaki pants, a narrow-collared shirt, and an out-of-style jacket, had an Irish accent. He even looked Irish, or at least how Riley pictured an Irishman looking. He had short, brown, curly hair and blue eyes. He was about six inches shorter than Riley as well.

"I know about your problem."

Riley frowned. That was a pretty weird approach. He decided to try to find out what the guy was talking about. "What problem would that be?"

The man sighed. Then he hooked his thumb off in the direction that Kennedy had gone off in. "Your problem with what to do about Kennedy."

Riley almost grabbed the guy and tossed him up against the side of the hallway. But, even as his hands were tensing to grab that ridiculous jacket, Riley's common sense surfaced. He couldn't grab the guy right here, in public. Still, he needed to figure out what the man knew. So he asked, "How exactly do you know Kennedy?"

"Look, lad, we could sit here and play twenty questions, but I'd as soon just lay my cards on the table for ye. You saw Kennedy doing something amazing and you didn't report her. Now you're thinking you did the wrong thing. I'm here to tell you that you didn't and that you need to keep her secret a little while longer."

Riley gave the man a tight smile. "And why should I believe you?"

The man gave Riley a steady look. "I'm a messenger for the Powers."

What the hell? Confused, Riley asked, "The Powers?"

"The Powers That Be. You know," he said, then pointed up.

Riley followed the direction of the man's finger, then burst into laughter. After a moment, he managed to get out, "You seriously expect me to believe that you are some kind of messenger from God?"

"Not the Lord Almighty. The Powers rank a few steps below that. You might say that they're around so that the big guy doesn't have sweat the small stuff, like you or me."

Riley stared. "You're serious. You really do expect me to believe that you have been sent by a higher power to warn me."

The man sighed again. "They thought you might need convincing. So they prepared me. When you were fourteen, you thought you saw a friend of yours cheating in class. You were convinced of it, in fact. When you found out that he had gotten an A on a test that you only scored a B on, you decided to act. So you went to your teacher and told her what you saw. Your friend and his parents ended up coming to school and having a big conference with the teacher and you. It turned out that he hadn't cheated. He was using a new technique that his parents had paid a company a lot of money for him to learn. And you misunderstood the entire situation. The two of you stopped being friends. The next month, he and his parents moved away and you never heard from him again. It's one of the biggest regrets you have in your life and you vowed because of it to always be tolerant of other people."

Riley just stood there, completely stunned. "How could you know that? I've never told anyone that story."

The man shrugged. "Like I said, I'm just a guy on a mission. So, what I'm telling you is to let the situation with Kennedy percolate a little longer. She's a good kid and exactly what you thought she was when you first saw her doing something special. You okay?"

Dazed, Riley nodded. He didn't want to accept what the guy was saying, but how could he not? Knowing something like that, he had to be the real deal. Still, there was a niggling sense of doubt. He went ahead and agreed, though. "I'll do what you ask."

The man nodded and started to walk away. Then he stopped and turned around. "Riley, Billy forgave you a long time ago. He figured out that you were just trying to do the right thing. If you ever want to look him up, he works for Allied Moving in Pasadena as an accountant." With that, he walked away, leaving a stunned, but fully convinced figure behind him.

~~~KtVS~~~

Doyle sauntered along. He was charmed by the town of Sunnydale. During the day, it appeared to be quite a nice place to live, all quiet, tree-lined streets and parks. The only glaring note was the proliferation of cemeteries within the town. Still, he liked it, which he supposed was a good thing since it appeared he was going to be here for some time. Well, he'd better go find Kennedy, he decided, and give her the good news.

~~~KtVS~~~

Kennedy walked home slowly. She was not looking forward to telling Notty about Riley being one of the soldiers. He would probably want to talk to her. Hopefully he wouldn't keep her too long since she was seeing Tara later.

The other day had been... nice. She hadn't even kissed Tara, but just being held made her feel so good. There was just something so comforting about the blonde. Despite her stammer, there was a wisdom in her eyes that touched Kennedy deeply. And she was making Kennedy re-evaluate her ideal girl. With a smile, Kennedy decided to not worry about it. What was going to happen, would. No point in getting stressed.

"So what are you thinking about so intently?"

Kennedy spun around at the familiar voice. "You! Some friend," she said scornfully. Despite her tone, she was smiling. He looked good. Especially minus the hat. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled and shrugged. "I told you I might be back. I had to help with a few things in LA. Now I'm here. At least for a while. By the way, the name's Doyle, Kennedy. I don't suppose you know anyone who needs a half-Brachen demon? I'm kinda between jobs, if you know what I mean."

Kennedy shook her head. "We'll figure something out." Then her expression brightened, "I have to introduce you!"

"Introduce me?"

"To my friends! I have a group that's helping me with the Slaying." Kennedy shrugged. "Well, kinda. Still, they've saved my life a few times now."

Doyle smiled at her. "I'm glad, lass. I have to believe that being the Slayer is a lonely gig. It's good that you have friends to share it with."

"So come on back with me to my apartment. Do you have a place to stay?"

~~~KtVS~~~

Doyle tried to keep the names straight. "It's nice to meet you, Warren. You, as well, Anya."

Warren nodded in a desultory way. He seemed distracted to Doyle. Anya on the other hand, was anything but, as she stared Doyle up and down. "You're not much of a dresser, are you?"

Doyle didn't know if he should be offended or not by her matter-of-fact observation. "Uh, I guess not?"

She nodded emphatically. "That's fine. Just don't expect Warren to give you money. His money belongs to m... us."

Doyle shot Kennedy a questioning look. She just shrugged and mouthed, "I'll explain later." Doyle nodded and let it go.

"So, is this everyone?"

"Hardly. You haven't met my roommate, Veruca, or Notty. And Andrew's still in class for another hour or so. He'll probably come over afterwards. He's over here pretty much every day. We can head over to Notty's later. I need to talk to him anyway." Doyle couldn't help but notice Warren's shudder at the mention of Notty's name. That was odd.

Just then, the apartment's front door opened and an angel walked in. Petite and curvy, her short blonde hair and pouty features made Doyle's heart race. Clad all in black, she stalked across the living room towards one of the bedrooms. She gave the group a disinterested look, but did a double-take when she saw him. He greeted her enthusiastically, "Hi, there. I'm Doyle. I'm a friend of Kennedy's."

"Veruca."

Doyle continued to stare at her. After a second, looking faintly embarrassed, she asked him, "Do I have something on my face? Is that why you keep staring at me?"

"No, no, lass. You're just... that is, I'm... uh. Nothing." Doyle managed to drag his eyes from Veruca and back to the group. Warren and Kennedy were openly grinning, while Anya looked bored. Well, he had managed to make a complete fool of himself, he thought as the girl went into her room and closed the door. At least some things never change.

~~~KtVS~~~

Kennedy got up from her spot on the couch. To Warren and Anya, she said, "You guys stay and chat with Doyle. I need to talk to Veruca."

Kennedy knocked on Veruca's door and said, "It's me." She turned the knob and entered. Veruca was sitting on her bed, staring into space. "What's wrong?"

Veruca turned sad eyes her way. "Remember that other musician? The one with the mousy girl?"

"Sure."

"Turns out he doesn't think she's wrong for him. As a matter of fact, he pretty much told me off when I suggested we get together."

Kennedy sat down next to her. "Men are bastards." She put her arm around Veruca and hugged her.

Veruca leaned into her hug. "I know. I really thought that he was going to be the one."

"It's okay, sweetie."

They stayed that way a moment. "Kennedy?"

Kennedy laughed. "I know, I know. You aren't going to sleep with me."

Veruca managed a half-hearted grin. "Actually, I was going to ask what the deal was with Harpo out there."

Kennedy winced. "He's not that bad."

"Riiiight."

Kennedy sighed. "Okay, maybe he is. That's Doyle. The guy with the visions."

"The who with the what?"

"I told you about him. Didn't I?"

"Nope."

"Oh. He's a guy that gets visions. From the Powers That Be." At Veruca's puzzled look, Kennedy pointed up. "You know..."

"Oh."

Trying to be casual, Kennedy offered, "I think he likes you."

Veruca looked scornful. "Please. Like I need my very own stalker. Just tell me that he's not staying here. Kennedy, he's not staying here. Right? Kennedy?" Her voice rose to a whine. "Right? Kennedy..."

~~~KtVS~~~

Doyle sat on the couch and talked to Warren and Anya. Well, Warren anyway. "So, you invent things to help Kennedy?"

Warren preened. "Pretty much. I've got some pretty cool toys. What's your specialty, Doyle?"

"I get visions. Of the future. What's going to happen. How to save people."

Warren looked awed. "That's pretty damn cool. Isn't that cool, Anya?"

Anya looked interested for the first time. "How do you keep your head from exploding?"

"'Cuse me?"

"Your head. How do you keep the visions from making it go all kablooey!" She made an exploding gesture with her hands, making both men wince in sympathy.

Doyle hesitated, then said, "I haven't had that much of a problem, yet. Just a few headaches... well, actually, pretty bad headaches, but I get by. Usually a shot or two and I'm good as new."

Anya gave him a knowing look. "I get it."

She gave him a slight nudge to the ribs, making Doyle feel like he was in a Monty Python episode with John Cleese. He didn't know what she knew, but apparently she thought she knew something. "So, Anya, what do you do in the group?"

"I date Warren."

"Ahh." That was it? Doyle wasn't sure what to think.

Anya seemed to sense his disappointment. After a long pause, she finally expounded on her earlier statement. "I'm also an ex-Vengeance Demon."

"Really? Err... how did that happen?"

"It's a long story."

"She gave vengeance to the wrong person and got her power center destroyed."

She gave Warren an intense look. "Apparently not that long. Warren, you should support me if you ever want to get laid again."

Warren looked briefly panicked then shrugged. "Okay, Anya. I'm sorry about that."

"As apologies go, that one's barely adequate. Still, I graciously accept your apology and acknowledgment that you were wrong. Don't expect to get laid anytime soon."

Doyle tuned out the rest of the couple's discussion, especially after it started to evolve into a talk about their sex life. Kennedy, where are you, he wondered?

~~~KtVS~~~

Andrew stared at the short man in the living room. He gushed, "That's soooo cool! You're like a Jedi Knight when it comes to telling the future. Can you sense the force, Doyle?"

Helplessly, Doyle glanced at Warren, who shrugged, as if to say, "You're on your own." Finally, he said, "No, I can't, Andrew Other than the visions sent by the Powers, I'm pretty much an ordinary joe." He had wondered if Kennedy had told everyone that he was half-demon, but it appeared that she had not. Somehow, he doubted that Andrew would have been able to keep it a secret if he had known.

Andrew said, "That's okay. I, Andrew the Wise, name you friend. Do you want to learn the secret handshake of the Scrappies?"

Doyle stared, flummoxed, as Andrew did some weird thing with his hands. What was wrong with the kid, he thought?

~~~KtVS~~~

"It's good to meet you, sir."

Notty smiled. "Please, Doyle, call me Notty. Everyone does." He gave the half-demon a quick evaluation. Not the most prepossessing individual, he decided, but he made up for it with his ability as a seer. "So, Doyle, how often do you receive these 'visions?'" Perhaps he could be helpful against the Council.

Doyle shrugged. "There's not a particular time frame, Notty. It sometimes seems pretty random. I only get them when the Powers want to see something averted. Unfortunately, I don't know what their criteria is for what's important enough to send me a vision."

"Extraordinary." With an inward sigh, Notty downgraded Doyle's usefulness in his campaign against the Council. Still, he could be very helpful here to Kennedy. "Do you have a means to make a living?"

Doyle shook his head. "I don't. Not yet, anyway. I figure to go job hunting tomorrow."

Kennedy, who had been pretty quiet until now, spoke, "I have an idea about that."

Notty turned to her. "What's that, Kennedy?"

She thought for a second, then said, "What if I hired you, Doyle? As a kind of investigator. That's kind of what you do with your visions. You could take on other cases as well to help stretch out what I can afford to give you."

Notty was about to protest, but Doyle beat him to it. "I can't let you do that, Kennedy. It's a point of pride for a man that he make his own way and-"

Kennedy rolled her eye. "Please. I'm the first person to say 'Fuck off' to deadbeats, but you would be earning your money. It would be a lot more convenient if you were available when you were needed, rather than having to try to get time off when you have a vision."

Notty nodded approvingly. "You've given it some thought, haven't you?"

She shrugged. "I wasn't sure if Doyle was coming back, but I figured if he did, he would need to eat. So what do you think, Doyle?"

He shook his head. "Lass, I can't let you spend all of your money on me like that..." He stopped as both Kennedy and Notty began laughing. He looked like he was wondering what the joke was, Notty thought in amusement.

~~~KtVS~~~

"Notty didn't seem too happy to find out that Riley was one of those soldiers." Doyle commented.

"You can say that again." Kennedy check the time on her gold watch. She caught Doyle looking at it and frowning.

"You could have told me you were rich." He grumbled

Kennedy gave him a sideways glance. "It wasn't a clue when I didn't want any of that crap that Sunday had back in her nest?"

He sighed. "Maybe it should have been." He turned to look at her then said, "Kennedy, I do have to let you know I need to head back to LA in a bit. There's unfinished business there that I have to take care of. I hope you don't mind."

Kennedy shook her head. "I don't mind a bit."

Doyle shook his head. "One of the reasons I'm taking the job here with you is because you can more easily afford to pay me than the group I've been with down in LA. They're good people, but a bit unorganized sometimes, you know? And a man's gotta eat. So does a half-demon." They shared a quiet laugh at that.

She smiled at him. "Look on the bright side, Doyle. You're solvent. I have my very own seer. What could go wrong?"

~~~KtVS~~~

Veruca walked out of her bedroom wearing just the skimpy half t-shirt she slept in and a pair of panties. God, it was early, dawn just starting to break. She walked into the kitchen, bending over to grab a carton of OJ that was on the bottom shelf of the fridge. Straightening up, she poured herself a glass then headed back to take a shower. That's when she saw Doyle, laying on the couch, his eyes wide. Fuck! She had just put on quite a show for him. She scurried back into her room, cursing the very existence of men.

~~~KtVS~~~

Doyle sat up. He needed a cold shower badly. Sleeping on the couch of an apartment with two gorgeous girls was overrated when one of the girls was a lesbian, and the other completely ignored you. He contemplated apologizing to Veruca, but decided it was a lost cause. After all, he hadn't done anything wrong. She should have known he was there.

~~~KtVS~~~

Kennedy dreamed...

She faced off against the blonde-haired Slayer, their hands cuffed together. Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes, she thought sarcastically, before punching her. She grunted at the return hit. Good one, B, she complimented her nemesis, rubbing her jaw. Then she attacked in turn. Finally, she managed to break the handcuffs.

The two of them fought round and round her apartment, using every possible weapon available. It was becoming a shambles, pissing her off even more. She was also becoming afraid. B was better than she'd imagined, despite the times that the two of them had sparred. Who knew how nasty she would turn out to be when she really let go, she thought, before taking another punch to her jaw.

Then they were out on the balcony, high above the sidewalks. They were exchanging blows when B tried a new tactic. B pulled the knife she'd stolen from her. Then she stabbed her with it.

Oh fuck, I'm dying, she thought, her earlier fears forgotten. She teetered on the edge of the balcony, staring at B's shocked face. But she would rob B of her victory. She wouldn't let B feed her to her pet vampire. She let go, falling to land with a crash on something hard. As she looked up, it carried her away...

Kennedy sat up with her heart pounding. Her stomach felt sick. Oh God, she thought, Buffy killed that girl. The Slayer. Notty was right, she became an assassin. And they sent her after the current Slayer. What kind of monster had she become? How could Kennedy defeat someone so dangerous and skilled?

~~~KtVS~~~

Doyle wearily climbed the steps to Kennedy's apartment. He was worn out. He had walked all over town trying to find an apartment without luck. They were either too expensive, wanted too large a security deposit, or needed credit references, which he didn't have. He used the key that Kennedy gave him to open the door. Just as he walked into the living room, Veruca's bedroom door opened and she came out wrapped in a towel, with another in her hands busy drying her short hair.

He stopped, drymouthed. He could see a surprising amount of thigh and breast, which considering how short Veruca was, made the towel fairly small. Lucky towel, he thought absently. Then Veruca finally become aware of his presence. She jumped as she caught sight of him. Then the towel she was wearing came loose and fell to the floor. Behind him, through the door that he hadn't yet closed, came a long whistle. Veruca ran back into her room as the voice said, "Wow, you don't see that everyday."

Doyle whirled around to see Warren's amused face. "What are you doing here?"

Warren shrugged. "You mean besides getting to see Veruca's goods? I have a new blaster prototype that I wanted to show Kennedy. She should be home from class pretty soon."

Doyle managed to get out, "Okay." Then, he asked, "You think Veruca's upset?"

Warren grinned. "You mean just because two guys she doesn't really like just got a full frontal view of her as well as a great view of her as... sets? I can't see why that would even bother her." With a chuckle, he came on into the apartment and sat down on the couch. He used the remote to turn on the big plasma TV.

Doyle groaned. That was twice now he had gotten an eyeful of Veruca. Compared to what had just happened, though, this morning didn't really count. He tried to banish thoughts of full, shapely, dark-nippled breasts, and for the most part, did so successfully. Now if Veruca would just stay in her room for the next several hours.

~~~KtVS~~~

Kennedy trotted up the steps to her apartment. That's when she heard the shouting. Raising her eyebrows, she jogged the rest of the way. Opening the door, she came into a scene of pandemonium. She spotted Doyle seated off to one side, while the main stage was taken up by the two stars of this little drama.

Veruca screamed, "Warren, you can go fuck yourself!"

Warren bellowed back. "I don't have to, I have Anya!"

Veruca screamed back, "You would need to screw a demon! No normal girl would have you!"

"At least Anya's good in bed! And doesn't get furry three times month!"

"Racist!"

"Nudist!"

"Pig!"

"Bowser!"

Kennedy decided to intervene before it got to blows. Of course, if it did, she had ten bucks on Veruca. She yelled, "Cool it!" That temporarily stopped the hostilities, but the glares that both parties sent each other indicated that it might just be temporary. "What's going with you two?"

Veruca shot first. "This perv saw me naked."

Kennedy's eyebrows rose. She turned to Warren. This had better be good. He shrugged and explained, "I was coming over to see you. Doyle had the door open and just as I walked in, Rue came out of her room in a skimpy towel, which she promptly dropped, treating us to one hell of a show. I think I like the rear view best though. No offense."

Veruca started to open her mouth again, but shut it at Kennedy's look. "Warren, give it a rest. Is that pretty much what happened, Veruca?"

The girl gave her a sulky look, then nodded jerkily. "Everything except the show part. I didn't..."

"It's my fault."

Kennedy turned to Doyle. "Why's that?"

"I should've knocked before coming in. Just because I have a key is no reason not to be polite and respectful of Veruca's privacy. I'm really sorry, Veruca," he said quietly, meeting her eyes, his own gaze direct and sincere.

Whatever Veruca was about to say, died on her lips. Finally, she muttered, "It's okay. Just knock next time."

"I promise that I will."

Kennedy ignored Warren's muttered, "Whipped!" from behind her as she contemplated her two roommates. Was there something going on there? She knew about Doyle's attraction to Veruca, but as far as she knew, Veruca was still pining over a certain musician.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

"It's probably Andrew," Kennedy said as she got up.

Veruca snorted. "Since when does he knock?"

Warren grinned. "Since never."

Kennedy opened the door and saw a blonde woman in her late twenties. She was pretty in a wholesome kind of way, but not Kennedy's type. "Yes?"

"I'm looking for Francis," The woman said.

"Uhh... who?" Kennedy asked.

"Harry." Doyle said, his voice strained.

"Hey, Francis." The woman gave him a small smile.

"Doyle, who's this?" Kennedy asked, curious.

"Kennedy, this is Harry. She's my wife."

Holy shit, that is going to be some explanation, Kennedy thought, as the two of them began to argue...

~~~KtVS~~~

"Let's just hug and be glad to see one another, Francis," The woman, Harry, said, as Warren listened. He watched as they hugged.

"Let me introduce you to the others, Harry. This is Kennedy. That's Veruca over there. And Warren on the couch." Warren waved during his introduction. Chick's not bad looking, he thought, surprised she'd hooked up with somebody like Doyle. Still, he had Anya and who saw that coming?

Just then, there was a light knock on the door, and a man peeked in. Harry said, "I thought you were going to wait in the car?"

The man said, "I know, but curiosity got the better of me." He walked up to Warren who got to his feet in response. He stuck his hand out and Warren shook it. "Richard Straley." Turning to Harry, Richard said, "He's a lot younger and taller than I expected."

Warren tried to explain, "I'm not-"

"No, you are. Much taller. You're-"

Warren finished. "Not Doyle. He is." Warren pointed to Doyle.

Richard looked relieved. "That's more like it." He looked embarrassed at what he'd said. "Not that you aren't tall enough. Sorry, I'm not quite myself with the wedding just a few days off now."

Everyone, including Warren, stared at Doyle, who looked stressed as he asked, "There's a wedding?"

Richard shook his head. "I wasn't supposed to say that was I?"

Harry sighed. "No."

Kennedy butted in with, "Maybe, we should leave you three alone. Why don't we go into my room a moment, guys."

~~~KtVS~~~

"I can't believe she's marrying him," Doyle exclaimed. "Talk about bland. He needs salt or pepper or something."

Kennedy shrugged. "If she's happy..."

"She expects me to sign her divorce papers. I need to look them over. But..." He shrugged helplessly.

Kennedy put her hand on his shoulder. "Want me to get Notty take a look at them? I have to go talk to him anyway."

"Would you?"

"Sure thing."

"How'd she track you down?"

"She said something about tracking down Gunn, who told her I was in Sunnydale, but she never really told me everything. Kinda the story of our marriage."

"Is that what happened?"

"We met too young and fell in love and got married. Then she found out I was half-demon. She couldn't handle it."

Kennedy was surprised. "You didn't tell her?"

"I didn't know until I was twenty-one. We were trying to have kids. But that pretty much finished up things."

"Well, Richard seems-"

Doyle jumped up. "Exactly! I may be her soon-to-be ex-husband, but I owe it to her to make sure he's on the up and up." He paced along. "Still, it wouldn't look right for me to follow him." He stared expectantly at Kennedy.

No way, she told herself. There is no way that I'm going to run around following Doyle's wife's fiancé.

~~~KtVS~~~

As Kennedy slipped around behind a tree, she cursed. "Ass lickin' goat rapists!" She was such an idiot.

The happy couple was ahead of her, heading towards the Sunnydale Motor Lodge. Not the best, but far from the worst, hotel in town. Kennedy followed at a discreet distance, watching as they headed to their room. She headed up the stairs behind them and stood outside their room, listening to the bland conversation, something about seating arrangements.

Kennedy managed to get a look in the room. Harry was not in view, probably in the bathroom, but Richard was. Then Kennedy gasped as Richard's face changed, turning from human to red and scaly. He picked up a pair of scissors and headed towards Harry's voice.

Kennedy didn't take any more time, but instead acted. She kicked the door open and jumped the red-faced demon, kicking him in the gut. He collapsed onto the bed, just as Harry came out of the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" Harry demanded as she cradled demon-Richard to her breast.

"He's a demon!" Kennedy shouted.

"I know! He's a Anamovic demon. He and his people are totally assimilated into our culture."

"Oh."

"Doyle put you up to this, didn't he? That man!"

Richard cradled his jaw as he asked, "Who's going to pay for that door."

~~~KtVS~~~

"He's a demon?"

"Oh, yeah." Kennedy wasn't looking forward to using her credit card to pay for that motel door. Things like that didn't happen to Batman.

Doyle looked shocked. "I always thought she left me because of the demon in me." He looked sad as he finished, "Now I can see she left because of me."

~~~KtVS~~~

Kennedy finished catching Notty up on her dream. "So what do you think?"

He paused, then sighed. "The same thing you do. She's almost certainly an assassin in the service of one of the factions of the Council, probably Quentin's. I don't dare try to get more information about her from the Council. Still, I do have other resources available to me. Unfortunately, it may take months to reach them, especially this one chap. He's a rather sorry excuse for a warlock, but he owes me a favor."

Kennedy noted, "What about her friends? What part do they play in this?"

"They're likely part of her cover. Makes whoever she's after not suspect her. That's assuming, of course, that they're even still alive. She can come and go as she likes, here on the Hellmouth. If anyone does find out that she's a Slayer, she can always pose as the Slayer, since the Council has information so compartmentalized. It's scary how effective this must have been. I can already think of several deaths of people who were loosely affiliated with the Council or some of the individual Watchers themselves that could be accounted for by a Slayer assassin. A couple of years back, several people who knew that same warlock I spoke of earlier, as well as a certain Watcher, disappeared. Now I'm wondering if this wasn't the reason for it."

~~~KtVS~~~

"There you go," Doyle said, handing the signed papers to Harry. He was going to miss her. He hoped she would be happy with Richard. He stared at them as they stood in Kennedy's living room. Kennedy and Veruca were in Kennedy's room, trying to give him some privacy.

"Thank you, Francis." Harry said, a faintly sad look on her face.

Richard interjected, "You don't know what this means to us. Or maybe you do, seeing you were once married to her."

"Is there a place where I can get a copy of these?" Harry asked.

Doyle thought Kennedy had a copier in her room with all her computer stuff. He called, "Hey, Kennedy, can Harry use your copier?"

She poked her head out of her room. "Sure thing. Come on in, Harry."

~~~KtVS~~~

"So the two of got married when you were only eighteen?" Veruca asked Harry, curious about the woman who Doyle had married, watching as she made copies.

"We sure did. We were too young, but what can you do when passion runs that hot. I really liked the way he took charge. But it got a little overwhelming after a while. Sometimes, I felt like I was one of his students."

"His students? Was he a..." Veruca couldn't believe she was even asking the question.

"A teacher? Yes, he was. He got his credentials before we even met at the food bank."

"Soup kitchen, huh? That sounds about Doyle's speed." Veruca paused, chagrined. "You about to tell me that he ran the soup kitchen." She got an amused look from Kennedy who stood to one side listening.

"He was a volunteer. That's where he got the idea for the whole 'We Are The World Thing'. Just kidding." Harry grinned at Veruca's expression. "Hey, my mom said to invite some friends to my shower. But I'm pretty new to the L.A. area. Would you mind coming and being my support?"

"I'd love to," Veruca said. She cleared her throat as Kennedy stayed silent.

Finally, Kennedy reluctantly said, "Sure, it'll be fun." By her expression, she thought it would be as fun as watching paint dry.

~~~KtVS~~~

"I can't believe I'm going to Richard's bachelor party," Doyle moaned in disgust.

Kennedy glared at him. "So? I have to go to Harry's shower. At least you get to watch a stripper. I'll be lucky if we're not doing pornographic Pictionary or something equally lame."

Doyle smiled in commiseration. "Well, you could always go with me. After all, you have more in common with the stags than the does."

Kennedy just shook her head. "Watch the metaphors, Doyle. I mean, who says, 'does and stags?' anyway."

Los Angeles, two days later...

Richard asked as he sat at the dinner table with his family, "Do we really have to have the buffalo wings?"

His brother, Jerry stated, "It's a bachelor party, Rick. You're supposed to eat bad food. It's a tradition."

His mother interjected with, "Don't forget the gal who does the striptease." At the silence around the dinner table, she asked, "What? Think I don't know what goes on at these parties? Just make sure that's all she does."

His other brother, Terence tossed in, "Sorry Rich, it's your bachelor party and we're going to have fun whether you like it or not."

Richard looked worried. "I just hope the hijinks don't create a bad impression with Doyle."

His mother asked, "Who's Doyle?"

Snidely, Jerry said, "Harry's first husband. Richard invited him."

Defensively, Richard said, "He's really very sweet. I think you'll all enjoy him." As everyone looked at him, he said, "Fine, fine. Dancing girl, I submit. Now where were we?"

His dad pulled out his list. "First, we greet the man of the hour." He gestured towards Richard, before continuing, "Then we drink. Bring out the food. Ahh, then comes the stripper." This earned him an eyeroll from his wife. "Darts. Then we have the ritual eating of the first husband's brains. Then charades."

Terence's head came up from his food. "What was that?" He looked unhappy as he further questioned it. "Charades?"

Jerry shook his head. "I don't know about that."

Richard shrugged. "Really? I think it'll be fun."

~~~KtVS~~~

"Thanks, man, for coming with."

Warren shrugged. "Sure thing. I mean, strippers are the closest thing to sex I'm seeing these days."

Andrew looked ecstatic. "I can't wait to see the strippers!"

Doyle hushed him. "Keep it down, Andrew. No point in telling half of LA." Besides, he thought, why would Andrew care if there was a naked girl around? He was obviously gay. Doyle could tell just from the way he crushed on Warren, who looked uncomfortable about half the time from it.

They had just parked in front of the upscale restaurant, with its sign that said "Closed For Private Party" and were walking up. Talk about swank, Doyle thought as they headed inside, the interior all polished wood and leather.

Richard greeted him as soon as he hit the door. "Francis!"

Doyle quickly clued him in. "Doyle."

As Richard gave him a quick hug, he muttered, "Sorry." Then louder, "Everybody, this is Doyle."

From further in the room, someone said, "And he brought someone. Two someones."

Doyle turned to Richard as Warren and Andrew drew up next to him. "I hope that's okay?"

Richard looked uncertain a moment, then gushed. "Sure. Hey, Warren. And..."

Andrew held out his hand to him. "I am Andrew. Often called the Wise, by those who truly know me."

Richard looked mystified, while Warren pretended not to know him. Doyle wished he could do the same as he caught the myriad amused looks directed their way by the other men. "Ooookay. Well, now the party can really start."

Richard pulled Doyle along with him as he headed further into the room. "Everybody, this night is for Doyle as much as it is for me. More even. He's a real bachelor."

Doyle smiled uncomfortably. "Thanks for not rubbing that in my face."

~~~KtVS~~~

Warren wandered around, checking things out as Richard said a lot of bizarre stuff. He didn't really pay attention. He knew one thing though. If it were his bachelor party, Heaven forbid, he wouldn't have the bride's ex there. Especially, since with his luck, Anya's ex would be a demon, Warren thought.

He grabbed some wings, which turned out to be pretty tasty, as well as a beer. On the other side of the room, Andrew was in conversation with a big, beefy guy, hanging on his every word. Warren wasn't too surprised. Maybe that'll get him off of my back, he thought.

~~~KtVS~~~

"Thanks so much for coming, Veruca, Kennedy. And..." Harry paused, waiting to be introduced to the third person that accompanied them.

"This is Anya. She's Warren's girlfriend"

Anya gave Harry a hearty shake. "It's nice to meet you. I look forward to seeing more of this bridal shower ritual."

Kennedy met Harry's puzzled look and just shook her head, letting her know to not worry about it.

They hadn't made it all the way in before an older lady, probably Richard's grandmother, called out, "Come on, girls, it's pornographic Pictionary time."

Harry gave them an apologetic look, shrugged, and muttered, "Their ways are not our ways."

Kennedy gave Veruca a disgusted look and settled down to having an oh, so interesting time. Wee.

~~~KtVS~~~

Andrew sat with his new friend, Terence, talking about Sunnydale. "It's really not that bad. Just a few vampires and demons."

"Man, the Hellmouth? I don't know how you do it."

Andrew drew himself up. "I have done much to alleviate the situation. I have even worked with the Slayer herself."

Terence looked unsure. "The Slayer? Seriously? Err... does Doyle know her?"

Andrew bubbled on. "Of course. They're good friends. There isn't anything she wouldn't do for him. Or kill, rather."

"Really? That's interesting."

~~~KtVS~~~

Anya sat, enjoying the fun and games. And the wine. She was on her third glass. Thank God, Warren was legal and didn't mind buying her booze, she thought ruefully, or she would have to endure being too young to drink without, well, drinking. She briefly regretted cutting him off from sex as the naughty Pictionary brought up thoughts of their sex life. Then a sudden thought occurred to her. She asked Mrs. Straley, "What kind of demons are you all?"

She smiled benignly. "We're Anamovic demons, dear. Do you know what those are?"

Anya nodded. "Oh sure. When you've been around as long as I have, you've heard about pretty much every demon type."

"Well, that's nice dear." Mrs. Straley looked confused.

Anya continued, "I'm just surprised that Doyle was okay with your people's traditions, though."

Kennedy sat across the room and looked desperately bored. She jumped on Anya's comment. "What traditions are those, Anya?"

"Anamovic demons, when they marry someone who's first husband has left her or divorced her, always ask for the blessing of the first husband."

Kennedy looked disgusted and disappointed. "That's it?"

Anya nodded. "Pretty much. Well, except for the part where the second husband eats the first husband's brains after getting the blessing." To the gathered women, Anya said, "I assume you still follow the traditional ways, right?"

Mrs. Straley stated emphatically, "Richard is not eating Doyle's brain right now to bless their eternal union." She abruptly shut up and looked guilty.

Wow, this is a goooood party, Anya thought, as she started on her fourth glass of wine while Veruca and Kennedy scurried about.

~~~KtVS~~~

Warren looked up as the two big guys confronted him. "Hey, what's up?"

"I'm not sure you have the right spirit, buddy," One of them said.

Mystified, Warren asked, "What do you mean?"

The other said, "You've hardly drank anything."

Nervously, Warren said, "Well, I'm trying to stay sober for the stripper. Know what I mean?"

"Oh, we do." He put a comradely arm around Warren's shoulders. "Why don't you come this way?"

~~~KtVS~~~

Andrew huddled in the corner, freezing. It was cold in the big refrigerator. And his lip hurt from being punched. Why Terence had punched him completely mystified him. He was just telling him about how great a show Babylon 5 was when Terence had dragged him back into the kitchen. Andrew had been strangely excited until Terence had punched him, then tossed him into the walk-in cooler.

The door opened. Andrew got to his feet, hopeful, only to have his hopes dashed as Warren was tossed in. Uh oh, he thought. Now who's going to rescue us?

~~~KtVS~~~

"Can't you drive any faster?" Kennedy demanded as Veruca drove the four of them back towards Harry's fiance's restaurant.

"Not if I don't want to get pulled over!" Veruca shot back.

"Dammi... Sorry, Veruca, I'm just tense about what's going on there," Kennedy apologized.

Worriedly, Harry chimed in with, "Do you think Richard has already eaten Francis's brains?"

Kennedy frowned at her. "Shouldn't you know? Since you're about to marry him."

Harry objected. "Who knows stuff like that?"

"They are probably just now about to settle into a meal of your first husband's brains," Anya volunteered. "I'm sure they saved that for last. Certainly, they would have had the stripper first."

Harry stared at her. "How do you know that?" To Kennedy and Veruca, "How does she know that? I mean, I don't know that, and I'm an expert on demons." Then, as if she had just realized the rest of what Anya said, she asked, "There's a stripper?"

Anya huffed, "Some expert."

"What was that?" Harry asked coolly, still looking upset at the idea of there being a stripper at the bachelor party.

"I said, if you were really an expert, you would know that the whole bonding thing was a bad idea. I mean, after they eat Doyle's brains, who knows what they're going to do to his companions. They might even fall back further and indulge in some more ritual cannibalism... Oh my God! Veruca drive faster! They're going to eat my Warren's brains! He won't be smart without a brain! Go, wolf-girl, go!" She hit the back of Veruca's seat for emphasis, who gave her a dirty look in the rear view mirror.

Kennedy's eyes widened at Anya's rant. Well, we finally know what it takes to get her involved.

~~~KtVS~~~

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

"Let us out of here, you red-faced freaks!" Warren shouted as he pounded on the walk in door. He stopped after a moment, when it became obvious no one was going to answer.

"What are they going to do to us?" Andrew whined from behind him.

"I don't think we are the ones who need to worry," Warren said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, when they were busy dragging me back here, they let slip that this whole thing has been about luring Doyle here. I'm sure they have something truly horrible planned. And I can't think of any way to stop them." He sat down on the cold floor, dejected.

Then he stood up as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Andrew, you can do magic."

Andrew shook his head. "I can't. I don't have my magic flute and Notty won't let me."

Warren exclaimed, "Fuck your 'magic' flute. It's not the flute, you told me so yourself. It's the music allowing you to focus."

"Well, I can't focus without my music."

"So whistle your music."

"I can't whistle," Andrew admitted, looking ashamed.

"Try."

"I can't!"

"Goddammit, Andrew! Doyle may die because of you. Get off your fuckin' ass and try! Or so help me, I'll..." Warren stopped as Andrew began to cry. "Hey, don't. Look, I'm sorry."

"You're being sooo mean to me. I can't whistle. I tried for so long and I just can't. That's why I got the pipes to begin with."

Warren asked thoughtfully, "What if I whistle, Andrew?"

Andrew's expression went from dismissive to thoughtful. "That's... actually, that might just work."

~~~KtVS~~~

Doyle struggled to free himself from his prison. He'd been placed into a wooden box on wheels that closed around him, leaving only his head exposed so that his brains could be eaten. He was getting close to panicking as he heard Richard and the other demons discussing the upcoming feast.

Jerry said, "Here you go." He handed Richard an eating utensil.

Richard stared at it. Then his other brother, Terence took it out of his hand, smacking Jerry alongside his head. "What? You want the man to eat his predecessor's brains with a shrimp fork? Go get him a spoon, doofus."

From where he was bound, Doyle chimed in, "Actually, I don't want Richard to eat my brains with anything."

Richard shook his head. "Now, now, Doyle. You gave your blessing. You can't just take it back."

"Sure I can. In fact, I do. I take back my blessing."

"You can't do that! Can he do that? Man, that is so wrong. Now, I'm not sure I want to eat his brains."

His father chided him, "Richard Anthony Straley, how dare you be rude to your guest."

Richard hung his head. "You're right. I'm sorry, Doyle. I'd be honored to eat your br... Sweet Moses!" He exclaimed as something whizzed by his head. He swatted at it and another creature that tried to dive bomb him. Soon the rest of his family was joining in, swatting and trying to avoid being clawed by what looked to Doyle's shocked eyes like flying monkeys out of The Wizard of Oz.

~~~KtVS~~~

"I did it!" screeched Andrew. He was enjoying the view from what seemed like dozens of eyes, but was probably only fifteen or twenty. Still it was an exhilarating experience. Then he spotted someone. "Take that, Terence! And that's for leading me on!"

"Dude, can you get them to release us?"

"Sure, sure, in a second. Hahahaha! You didn't think I saw you behind that buffet table, did you, Richard? Have some hot sauce to the eyes!"

Warren shook him lightly. "Andrew, have them come release us. And see if they can get Doyle loose."

Andrew's stomach was starting to get upset as he got dizzy from staring through all of those eyes. "Warren, I'm not sure I can control them that well. Maybe I can get Doyle loose."

~~~KtVS~~~

Doyle nearly screeched as one of the flying monkeys landed on his box. Then it gave him a wink and started messing around with the catches of the box he was in. Hell with this, he thought, and went into his demon face. As the monkey released the last catch, he burst out of the box and went after the nearest Anamovic demon, who just happened to be Richard's father.

Kicking him in the balls, Doyle took him out of the fight for at least a while. Then he went on to the next demon. "That's for locking me in a box and trying to eat my brains. And that's for making me nearly piss myself with fear."

~~~KtVS~~~

"I can't hold them much longer, Warren! I'm about to vomit! Why did I have that wine cooler."

"Get one back here to let us out, Andrew. Hang on and do that before you get sick. Come on, Andrew, you can do it." Then he jumped back in disgust as Andrew heaved the contents of his stomach all over the expensive food on one side of the walk-in. "Jesus, that's disgusting. Did you get one back here to let us out?"

Andrew looked up at him between heaves. "I'm sorry, Warren."

~~~KtVS~~~

Doyle kicked another demon, then punched two more, before realizing something. All of the flying demons were gone and he was facing nearly two dozen extremely pissed off Anamovic demons, alone. Looking at the circle of angry faces, he said in a placating voice, "Look, fellows, let's just let bygones be bygones. I forgive you for trying to eat my brains, and you forgive me for... whatever the Hell just happened. What do you say?"

He didn't think they were going to go for it. Doyle was about to turn and run when Kennedy barreled into the nearest Anamovic demon and started to whale on them. Holy fuck, he thought in amazement as Kennedy pummeled one demon after another, throwing them around like ten pins. So that's what a Slayer is like? He shuddered as she grabbed two of the demons by the balls, one in each hand, and picking them up that way, tossed them into the nearest wall. Okay, that had to be the pissed off lesbian more than the Slayer. At least he hoped so.

He leaned back against a booth, about to grab a beer that someone had left on the table and take a sip when something slammed into him. He had just a second to see Veruca's furious face when she hit him over the head several times with a serving tray.

~~~KtVS~~~

"Take that you sonuvabitch! That's what you get for trying to eat Doyle's brains!" Veruca hefted her tray and looked for another demon. Spotting one hiding behind the buffet table, she took a few steps that way, then smacked him in the back of the head just like she had the first demon. It only took three smacks to put him down, unlike the six she'd dealt the spiny-faced demon.

Turning around, she surveyed the scene. Kennedy was seriously kicking those guys asses. Then she spotted Doyle getting up in a stagger from where he'd fallen at some point earlier. As Harry finally caught up and began yelling at her fiancé, Veruca picked her way over to Doyle.

She caught his flinch as she tapped him on the shoulder. Reassuringly, she said, "Don't worry, it's me. We're here to rescue you. I won't let anyone else hurt you, Doyle." Wow, Veruca thought, I wonder why he still looks so worried.

~~~KtVS~~~

"Dude, you did it!" Warren was ecstatic as he opened the walk-in door that had just been unlocked by the last of the flying monkeys. It turned out that Andrew had managed to keep control of one of them. That was why he kept vomiting all over the food in the walk in, even after he'd released the others. "Come on, Andrew. You can't stay there and be sick anymore. Besides, you don't want to get any more of that on you."

Andrew moaned, "I, Andrew the Wise, resolve never to have another drink, especially wine coolers."

He didn't protest as Warren heaved him to his feet. Then the two of them managed to make their way back to the party room just in time to hear the tail end of what had obviously been a long argument between Harry and her fiancé.

"...then the wedding's off, Richard." She handed him her ring and turned around and walked off.

Warren saw Kennedy standing next to Doyle and Veruca, then he was abruptly hit by a whirlwind of arms and lips. Anya's mouth devoured his mercilessly. When he finally came up for air a few minutes later, he found himself surrounded by the others. Anya exclaimed, "I am so sorry that I held out on sex from you, Warren. I find myself fairly intoxicated and wanting to have sex with you right now this instant."

Warren ignored the amused titters and told Anya. "Honey, we're in the middle of a demon-infested restaurant. Where exactly do you recommend we have sex?"

She raised one brow and slowly circled her tongue around her mouth. He almost moaned aloud as he stiffened in a certain spot, making his pants tight. Then she said, "Well, there's always your car."

His car? Warren thought about it for two seconds, remembering how crowded it had been last time and how Anya had released the parking brake while in the throes of passion, almost getting them killed. Then he shrugged. "That works for me. Andrew, get a ride home with Veruca."

Two hours later, back in Sunnydale...

"Then the flying monkeys showed up and saved me," Doyle said, concluding his explanation of what had happened. "You know the rest."

He nearly flinched as Veruca rubbed his neck from where she sat. "Poor thing." She looked amused as he gave her a nervous stare. She still didn't know that she had almost killed him with that serving tray that she'd hit him with. He didn't intend to tell her anytime soon.

Kennedy announced, "Well, I for one, really enjoyed the workout. Those guys were just strong enough to give me a really good workout without really being dangerous. Of course, I probably should have drawn the line at throwing them around by their balls, but too bad for them."

Doyle shuddered. "Thanks for the visual, Ken. I was just on my way to banishing it from my mind, too."

She gave him a saucy grin. "You're welcome."

Doyle turned to Andrew, who looked a lot better now that he had showered and changed out of his vomit-covered clothes. It had been one unpleasant ride home with the way Andrew smelled. Still, he had saved Doyle's life and deserved that debt acknowledged. "Andrew, thanks a lot for saving me life. I don't know what I would have done without your flying monkeys."

Andrew drew himself up proudly and exclaimed, "Andrew the Wise has no need of thanks, but acknowledges your gratitude anyway. The flying monkey spell is just one of my many talents. Why, I..."

Kennedy interrupted him. "... get to tell Notty all about it tomorrow."

Andrew looked panicked. "Oh, no! Not Notty! I can't, Kennedy."

"You do the crime, you do the time. Besides, how angry could he get after you saved Doyle's life?" Kennedy asked. Everyone looked contemplative for a moment, then shuddered almost in unison.

Andrew grabbed Doyle's sleeve. "Please, Doyle, come with me when I tell him. I did save your life after all."

Reluctantly, Doyle plucked Andrew's grasping fingers from his sleeve. "Sorry, Andrew, but some things should be faced alone. Besides, what's the worst thing he can do?"

~~~KtVS~~~

As Andrew continued to write on the chalkboard "I will not cast spells without Notty's express permission" he thought about how unfair it all was. He had saved Doyle's life. And probably his and Warren's as well, ignoring Kennedy's arrival. And...

"You've stopped writing, Andrew. Did you have some comment?" Notty's cold, wintry gaze looked Andrew up and down from where he sat reading.

Andrew adjusted the hat he wore which was tall and pointed. It also read "I will not cast spells without Notty's express permission." All in all, he decided that being made to write this one thousand times was small punishment compared to the little that Warren had told him that Notty had done to him. So he just said, "No, Notty. Just had a cramp in my fingers."