Author's Note: An old crossover I started and abandoned; is anyone interested in seeing me continue it?
This is set sometime post Deadly Quicksilver Lies in Garrett terms. In Buffyverse terms, early season six, before OMWF.
Disclaimer: Garrett, Morley Dotes, Puddle, the Palms and The Dead Man were created by Glen Cook. All Buffy characters were created by Joss Whedon. Silvius Dray and Fralley are mine.
X X X X X
I really hadn’t expected the trouble this time, I swear.
Some people – mostly those that know me – would disagree with that.
Name’s Garrett: I’m a private detective with an unfortunate habit of
finding myself in the middle of crisis situations. I’ve been in the
middle of wars of the gods, tracked down body-switching serial killers,
and gone into nests of vampires in total darkness.
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking: I’m an idiot. Not many people in
TunFaire who’d disagree with you, usually including me. But this time,
the case I was on was an easy one: Find a stolen bronze medallion. Minor
magical powers. Apparently stolen by a gang of ogres led by a low-rent
human sorcerer, but unfortunately for them they couldn’t leave the city
right now; the lords on the Hill had ordered a complete census of the
town, the gods only knew why (and they weren’t telling.) The only people
allowed in or out were approved patrols; others would be arrested or
shot, depending on the mood of the soldier that found them.
The sorcerer himself was a would-be hellraiser named Silvius Dray. He
couldn’t have too much talent or he’d have been up on the Hill or trying
to track down Glory Mooncalled to wherever the rebel had gotten
himself, but he wasn't a complete incompetent.
So it was a matter of patience and legwork. Right before the trouble I
was chatting things up with my ally and friend Morley Dotes at his
restaurant/watering hole, The Palms. It was kind of in a transition phase
between the dive bar it used to be and the class joint he was trying to make
it into. I wished him luck. Strictly vegetarian, my pal Morley;
right now he was trying to get me interested in eating some kind of
mushroom dish. Doesn’t sound too bad, you say; but then, you haven’t
seen the mushrooms. Or met Morley’s cooks.
Anyway, for once I was playing the assignment smart: We had people
tracking this gang of ogres round the clock. I took a couple of shifts
but I wasn’t doing it solo. Morley knew a lot of guys who’d do
surveillance on the cheap, given the circumstances in the city, and I
wasn’t above taking advantage of it. Mostly, these guys were too afraid
of what Morley’d do to them if they tried to stiff me. Morley’s only
five and a half feet tall and skinny as they come, but he’s deadlier
than a platoon of sabertooths.
So, like I said, we weren’t expecting trouble. And of course, that’s
when trouble always decides to put in an appearance. Silvius Dray barged
through the front door, followed by his herd of ogres. Most of the
customers immediately sprinted for the exits; most of the servers made
for the kitchen.
Morley doesn’t truck with trouble. His bartender, Puddle, who has a
whole armory of heavy weaponry underneath his bar, immediately ducked
down and came up with some kind of crossbow it would have broken my arm
to try to pull back. As Dray stormed up to our table, me and Morley
stood up. The sorcerer hadn’t actually ordered violence yet, but I had
the sneaking suspicion it was moments away.
“I underthtand,” Dray said – yes, he talked jutht tho – “that you are
the foul villainth who have been rethponthible for all thothe people
thtalking me.” Around his neck, he wore the medallion we’d been
searching for, on a gold chain – but I wasn’t going to go grabbing for
it with all those ogres standing nearby. Mrs. Garrett’s only surviving
son was no fool.
“Yeth, Thilviuth,” I thaid – um, said – “That’th uth.”
“You mutht be Garrett,” he said, sneering as best he could. “I’ve heard
about you and your thmart mouth. Maybe I should have my friendth here
remove it from your body.”
“Then you’ve also heard about me,” Morley said with deadly cool. “And
how I don’t like people coming into my restaurant and causing trouble.
Much less threatening my friends.”
Dray nodded, completely unruffled. “Indeed I have, Mr. Doteth. Fralley!”
Fralley? What the hell was a Fralley? Before I had the chance to ask
Morley, something eight feet tall, with skin the color of a sunburned
pig and horns like a ram, came waltzing into the place, faster than
anything eight feet tall had a right to. In a much-too-eager voice –
high-pitched like you wouldn’t believe -- he said, “Yes, Mr. Dray?”
“That’th Morley Doteth, Fralley,” Dray said. “The boyth and I are going
to have a nice talk with Mr. Garrett, here. If he interfereth –“
Fralley nodded eagerly.
Morley didn’t seem impressed. Me, I was plenty worried, with six ogres
and whatever the hell Fralley was facing off against me, Morley, and
Puddle’s crossbow. But then one of the ogres put a hand on my shoulder.
Not smart. Morley broke the hand before the ogre had time to blink. I
whipped out my headknocker and hit Dray one upside the head before he
had the chance to give any more orders, then took a couple of steps back
to let Morley break another ogre’s knees. Also to give Puddle a clean
shot, which he took almost immediately, catching an ogre in the shoulder
and knocking him ass over appetite.
I didn’t hesitate; I ran in and beaned him on the head as hard as I
could, twice, then clobbered the one who’d been kneecapped, for good
measure. Another of the ogres ran past me and dove over the bar at
Puddle before he could reload. Puddle, no fool himself, dodged and ran
into the kitchen, with the ogre hot on his heels.
By this point Fralley and Morley were going at it one-on-one, which left
me (unfortunately) with three ogres to deal with solo, one of which was
in a bad mood because of a broken hand. Ogres weren’t subtle or
especially fast, but they didn’t need to be; they had brute strength and
ugly going for them. A whole lot of ugly in the case of this trio; if
their strength matched their ugly I was going to end up something of a
smear on the Palms’ floor.
We were just getting ready to mix it up when Fralley suddenly noticed
his erstwhile boss was stretched out cold. He caught Morley across the
jaw and knocked him across the room, then ran over to rip the medallion
from Dray’s neck and began chanting something in a language I’d never
heard before. The ogres suddenly backed away from me, confused. I got
the impression that this was not going according to plan.
Abruptly, a doorway opened up in the middle of the room. Fralley was
about to run through it when Morley shook off the effects of the last
blow he’d gotten and came over and resumed hostilities. In the same
high-pitched voice he’d used earlier, Fralley said, “I don’t have time
for this,” and ignoring the effects of Morley’s flashing blades, picked
him up. And rare is the opponent who’s able to so much as lay a hand on
Morley Dotes, much less toss him around. This made me swear to never get in a
one-on-one fight with Fralley.
At this juncture three things happened: Dray woke up in a foul mood;
Puddle came out of the kitchen; and Fralley began to toss Morley back to
the other side of the room.
Then three MORE things happened, all while me and the ogres stood
around stupidly. Dray yelled at Fralley, distracting him; Puddle loaded
his giant-sized crossbow and fired, catching Fralley in the thigh; and
Fralley tossed Morley anyway –
But through the portal, not into the wall. Fralley swore and jumped
through himself. Dray looked at the three ogres and yelled, “Follow him,
you foolth!” Two of the ogres, figuring maybe a leap through a giant
shimmering doorway might not be the brightest of ideas, instead ran out
the front of the restaurant. The third, the one with the broken hand,
jumped through. Dray followed him.
I couldn’t leave Morley like that, and not knowing how long the portal
would stay open, couldn’t hesitate. “Puddle –“
“I’ll make sure someone tells da Dead Man,” Puddle said, uncommonly solemn. “Right after I
throw out da trash.” He kicked one of the ogres lying on the floor.
“Good enough.” I gripped my headknocker and leapt through the portal.
X X X X X
I don’t know what I expected on the other side: heaven, hell, some godforsaken
cave in the middle of the Cantard. So when I wound up in the middle of some
kind of club it shouldn’t have surprised me.
But it did.
Almost immediately after I stepped through, the gate shriveled up behind me. I
looked around and took stock of the situation.
And it was sheer chaos. Silvius Dray and his ogre pal were nowhere to be seen,
but Morley was still slugging it out with Fralley, with the help of some young
human woman, blonde and very slobberworthy under other circumstances.
I was on the second floor of the place; the fighting was below me. It didn’t
look like Fralley had bothered taking the stairs down. Being somewhat more
fragile myself, I did, brushing by a pair of young women running by on the way
up, muttering incantations as they came. Wizards apparently, then, though from
their odd dress I doubted they were part and parcel of the local constabulary.
As I came down the stairs I noticed the lighting was not by torch or gaslight,
but by some kind of glowing tubes. And on the stage were musical instruments
with long cords of some sort attached. Wherever I was, I doubted strongly I was
anywhere near TunFaire.
Some things hadn’t changed; except for the combatants, there were only a few
people standing around. I whipped out my headknocker to see if I could help
Morley and the unknown woman, only to be blocked by a dark-haired guy. “Whoa,
club-boy. Hold on a second. Five things came barreling out of that gate up
there and only one of ‘em’s been anything but trouble.” He pointed to a couple
of people moaning in pain nearby; either the fight with Fralley had encompassed
the whole place or Dray and his ogre pal hadn’t been neat on their way out. “So
who the hell are you?”
I could have just clocked the guy and moved on but decided to startle him with
the truth. “Garrett. Private detective . . . and not from around here,
apparently. I’m pals with the skinny guy over there.” I pointed to Morley.
The fight was about even. The short woman was about as fast as Morley, but
Fralley equalled the two of them in speed and was a good deal stronger. I
noticed that Fralley no longer had the medallion, either.
“Alright then. For the moment let’s let your pal and Buffy take care of big,
pink and ugly, and let’s you and me as normal guys –“ he looked at me like he
remembered he hadn’t actually gotten me established as normal, and that’s me,
Garrett, normal as they come, so I nodded – “Let’s get the rest of these people
out of here. I’m Xander, by the way.”
The injured were in good enough shape to walk outside with help, though one of
them had an arm twisted in ways the gods never meant arms to twist. They’d be a
long time recuperating unless they knew some quality healers –
A blond man came running up. “Lost ‘em,” he said in an odd accent. “They had
too much of a head start. Who’s this bloke?”
“This is Garrett, Spike,” Xander said. “Comes from the same place our other
four pals did.”
He eyed me a little warily. “Right.” He didn’t offer to shake my hand, which
broke my heart not at all. “Now I got to go see a demon.” He sprinted inside;
as I passed through the doorway I noticed a big sign proclaiming this place as
“The Bronze.” Which figured. I didn’t like this talk of demons either, though
Fralley didn’t act like any demon I’d ever heard of.
A half second after we entered Xander and I got some impromptu ducking
practice, as Spike came flying towards us and slammed into the wall. To my
amazement he shook it off, but right as the three of us were about to charge
into battle, battle came charging towards us. Fralley backhanded Xander, who
crumpled like a piece of paper, and made like to do the same for me, but I’d
wisely thrown myself to the floor. I aimed a blow at his knee with my
headknocker, which Fralley pretended didn’t bother him.
Spike was a sight more angry and determined, though; he flattened himself
against the wall and then jumped onto Fralley's back. I stepped back to let
Buffy and Morley pass by, then got Xander to his feet and followed, ready to
join the fight.
Only there wasn’t one. An eight-foot tall blur was sprinting down the street,
and a heavily entangled Buffy, Morley and Spike were dusting themselves off on
the alley pavement. I went running after him – how easy could be for an
eight-foot-tall pink guy to lose himself in a crowd – but by the time I rounded
the corner, he was gone. Damn, he WAS fast.
Still, he shouldn’t be that hard to track down, unless he simply kept running.
Which I doubted. He’d wanted that medallion for something.
I made my back to the alley and found we’d been joined by the two women wizards
who’d shouldered their way past me earlier. One was a redhead, one blonde, both
worthy of extra-long looks under other circumstances – everyone knows I’m a
sucker for redheads – but the way they looked at and touched each other told me
I’d be wasting my effort.
Introductions were quickly made all around; the blonde was Tara and the redhead
was Willow. “So, how did you all get involved with our three new friends out
there?” Buffy asked. The smile on her face seemed very forced, but no one else
seemed to notice.
I gave a quick explanation of the circumstances – interrupted occasionally by
some snide comments from Morley about how every time I asked him for a favor it
turned out to be a major chore; that I forbore reminding him of the time he had
me and my pal Saucerhead lugging a vampire through the Tunfaire streets without
bothering to tell him surely gets me a place in any heaven I care to name – and
got a quick explanation back of exactly where the hell we were.
That turned out to be a city called Sunnydale, in some completely alternate
dimension. Fralley, it turned out, WAS what passed for a demon around here. I
was startled to find out that Spike was a vampire; back where I come from,
vampires do good deeds by accident only, and they’re a damn sight uglier. Buffy
was a Slayer of vampires, demons, and other assorted nasties, Willow and Tara
were magicians, and Xander was just their pal who helped them, which made him
either a hell of a guy or a damn fool.
Of course, I fit the same mold. When we made the introductions I left out
Morley’s semi-former career as a paid assassin and bonebreaker, implying that
he had once been in more or less my same line of work.
Then we trotted along, back to their headquarters, presumably to get a war
council going. Morley and I hung back a bit.
“So why are we tagging along, Garrett?” Morley asked. “All we need is that
medallion and –“
“If that were it, Morley,” I said, “We wouldn’t have had that encounter with
Dray. Fralley knew what to do with the thing, but Dray didn’t. Unless you
remember exactly what Fralley said to open the doorway here?”
Morley accepted the point, with ill grace. “Well, maybe there’ll be other
things worth looking around for.” He was pointedly staring at the women’s
backsides as he said it.
“I hate to disillusion you,” I said, “But Buffy doesn’t seem like she’s
“The best type to try to conquer,” Morley said –
“And the other two are already involved with each other.”
Morley grunted; he’d missed that. “Seems like a waste of choice womanhood.”
“I’ll agree with you there.”
On such trivial, and yet vitally important, topics we passed the rest of the
X X X X X
Headquarters, such as it was, consisted of a store called “The Magic
Box.” On the inside was every two-bit fake item of magic any huckster’s
ever tried to pawn off on some sucker. Crystal balls, tarot cards . . .
“So what?” I asked as soon as we got inside. “You dump this stuff off to
keep the cash flow up?”
“Cash flow’s good!” said an improbably perky woman behind the counter.
“But some of it’s real. We wouldn’t sell the dangerous stuff – unless we
really made a lot of money on it. Who are you?” Then she noticed the
assorted bumps and bruises, especially those on Xander. I gathered they
were an item. “And what happened this time?” She glared at Willow. “You
told me this was just supposed to be a fun night out. You didn’t say
anything about injuries. Oh, poor baby . . .” She led Xander towards the
back of the store as Morley and I exchanged blinks.
“That greedy force of nature,” Buffy said, “was Anya. You guys talk
among yourselves for a minute; I need to make a phone call.”
Then she wandered off to the back of the store. “Phone call?” I asked
“Telephone. It’s a device we use to speak to each other at great
Thank the gods those things hadn’t come to TunFaire. I’d never get a
moment’s peace. Yeah, they’d be useful for emergencies, but what do you
want to bet it’d be used 1% of the time for emergencies and 99% for
shooting the breeze?
And those cars – I already don’t get along with horses. Those things
looked like they’d hit me just for the sheer joy of it, and then back up
and do it again.
Morley, meanwhile, not sharing my distrust of all this engineering, was
busily asking Willow and Tara about every odd-looking device within
sight, from the lights on the ceiling to the metal cylinder attached to
the wall, no doubt with an eye towards getting the TunFaire monopoly
established. I wished him luck; this world’s magic seemed to have run in
an entirely different direction from ours, and I doubted even the Dead
Man could puzzle out how to build one of these things on notice this
That left me to shoot the breeze with Spike. He didn’t seem interested
in small talk. What he mostly seemed was pissed. He’d had a clear shot
at Fralley, and the big pink guy had tossed him aside without even
breaking stride. I basically let him work his mad out.
Buffy popped in the room while I was pretending to be engrossed in
Willow’s explanation of the miracles of wristwatches. Spike straightened
when he saw her; yeah, he had it bad, alright. My world, only thing a
vampire looked at like that was blood. He said, “So, we gonna track this
Fralley down and feed him his intestines?”
“I’m in for that,” Morley said. I wasn’t surprised; Morley didn’t like
losing. Of course, to him it was an unfamiliar sensation.; Morley ran
into people who could beat him in a fair fight about as often as pigs
took off for the moon.
“Probably at some point,” Buffy said, trying to be businesslike and
almost succeeding. “But right now we’re holding off for Giles to get
“So who’s getting Dawn-sitting duty?”
“Xander and Anya,” Buffy said ruefully. “She’s still kind of hacked off
at Willow for getting Xander slammed into a wall and is absolutely
insisting on his sitting this one out for a while.” As they spoke, the
couple said their goodbyes and walked out the front door.
“And Dawn and Giles would be?” I asked. There were too many people here.
Yeah, I’m used to the casts of characters in my cases being enough to
fill up a medium-sized restaurant, but at least they have the good grace
to not pop in all at once.
“Giles would be my Watcher,” Buffy said. “That’s kind of like a mentor.
Dawn’s my little sister. So someone has to go keep an eye on her while
the rest of us make with the demonslaying.”
Whatever answer I was going to make was interrupted by the sound of
something smashing into the ceiling. I turned around, expecting Fralley
to be roaring through the store, and instead saw Morley pinned there,
arms flailing, with a plaintive look on his face.
From the looks on Willow and Tara’s faces I’d guessed Morley hadn’t
taken my evaluation of their relationship at face value. Normally he
gets out of these things by either being charming or, occasionally,
simply backing away; he’d never dealt with a woman who could toss him
around the way the Dead Man could.
“Garrett? A little help here, please?” And Willow had rather alertly
frozen him to the ceiling where he couldn’t reach anything that might
serve as a weapon. Smart woman; I’d once seen Morley take down a pair of
trained assassins from ten feet with a pair of letter openers.
“For what? Seems you got yourself into this one on your own.” When he
gave me a dirty look, I said, “Consider this my payback for the Goddamn
Parrot.” At Buffy’s quizzical expression, I said, “Don’t ask.”
“Wasn’t planning to. Will?”
Tara said, “Yeah, I think he has the point by now . . . “
“Alright,” Willow said petulantly, and – and I’m sure you saw this one
coming – let him crash to the floor. As Morley dusted himself off, he
refused to say anything, though the look he shot my way promised
painful revenge. I had visions of TWO Goddamn Parrots. Or an endless
supply of eggplant making its way to my front door, where Dean would
make noises about not letting it go to waste, and I’d wind up choking
down some vegetable the gods surely had no hand in, or going hungry.
Spike’s mood had abruptly gone from peeved to vastly amused. “Way to go,
Red,” he said. “Don’t take crap from anyone.”
“No way, no how,” the young wizard said, giving Tara a high-five.
Morley simply said tersely, “Message received and understood.”
“Now that we’ve established what’s what and who’s not available for
touchy-feely,” Spike said, “Could we get back to the business of finding
Fralley and his two pals?”
“That’s not going to be as big a problem as we thought,” Tara said,
pointing to the door.
Silvius Dray and the ogre stood there.
And they didn’t look happy
X X X X X
Buffy, Spike and Morley tensed for action within less than a second, though
honestly unless Dray was a lot stronger than he looked I didn’t think we were going to
have any trouble.
“Garrett. There you are.” He seemed more annoyed than anything else, as though
he actually wasn't five seconds away from having the tar beat out of him.
“Here I am,” I said. “And, boy, are you stupid.”
“Relax, Garrett,” Dray said. “I’m not here to fight.”
Spike said, “Tell that to the trail of broken arms you left as you hightailed
out of the Bronze.” Then he looked at the ogre. “Nice moves, though.”
Then Dray turned to the ogre and said, “Smedli, you idiot! I told you things
were different here.”
To my amazement, Smedli didn’t try to pound Dray into the floor.
Wait a second . . . something was wrong here. “What the hell happened to your
Silvius sighed. “It was an affectation, Garrett. Wizards in your world are
drafted to do dangerous, stupid things unless they’re almost complete incompetents.”
“You fooled everyone,” Morley said. “Not an insult; Garrett’s a hell of an
observer and he had you pegged as barely knowing one end of a wand from another.” Smedli,
meanwhile, stood around and tried to pretend he didn’t want to pick his nose.
“I lived it 24 hours a day,” Dray said. “I had to, to do my job.”
Willow held up a hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold it. What’s this, ‘in your world’
stuff? You don’t come from this TunFaire place?”
“No. I’m from here. I went to TunFaire’s dimension ten years ago to track down
the medallion.” Tara went up a nearby ladder and came down carrying a couple of
books. She and Willow went over to a table and sat down.
Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Must have been a pretty powerful item to take ten
years of your life looking for it.” Spike walked up to Smedli and led him into the back
“VERY powerful,” Dray said. “It magnifies a witch’s power twentyfold, and makes
them incapable of making a mistake when casting a spell. It doesn’t work nearly so
well in the TunFaire dimension; that’s one of the reasons why it got stuck there thirty
“Really?” Willow sounded VERY interested, now, in finding this medallion.
This brought a sharp rebuke from her partner. “Willow –“ Tara said.
Willow sighed. “Yeah, I know. But think about the good it could do –“
“None.” Dray spoke as though he knew damn well what he was talking about.
“That’s the OTHER reason it got stuck there. Power corrupts. The bronze medallion would
cause the Pope to start trying to take over the world within a couple of months, if the Pope knew
how to use magic. I haven’t cast a spell in two weeks; I wouldn’t dare.That’s why I
rung in the ogres.” I didn’t know from Popes, but I got the idea: the medallion was not
something you’d give to anyone with power. “I brought it back because we finally
figured out how to destroy the thing without blowing up half of Los Angeles.”
“So where’d it go?” Buffy asked. “I mean, the demon didn’t have it, and if you
don’t have it –“
Dray’s head jerked upwards like he was being manipulated by a sadistic
puppeteer. “You mean none of you recovered it either?”
“No,” Buffy said, and a half second later everyone echoed her. I eyed Morley, on
the off chance he’d decided to smuggle it back to TunFaire and sell it, but he shook
his head. I hadn’t really expected otherwise; his restaurant was doing well enough
that he wouldn’t need to pawn off a medallion.
Dray went into a swearing routine that had me gaping in awe. The man knew how to
express pissed, I had to give him that. When he brought himself under control,
he said, “Well, then, we have to find it. Either it got knocked off in the middle
you all fighting with Fralley, or someone else heisted the thing.”
The door opened behind Dray, and in walked a middle-aged man with glasses. The
guy took a look at Dray, then at the rest of us, and said, “I assume longer explanations
are in order?”
We all moved around the table, though Dray and Morley were too keyed up to
actually sit down. After the guy – the Giles Buffy had ‘called' earlier – he asked, “Any luck
finding the demon in question?”
Willow said, “Tara and I really didn’t get that good a look; we were busy
looking at the gateway. But we think . . . “ she flipped through the book. “We think this
Morley, Buffy and I got a quick glimpse of a black-and-white drawing that looked
a lot like Fralley, in a book that looked like it hadn’t been opened since I was
knee-high to a dwarf. “Yeah, that’s him,” I said. “Big, pink, and ugly.”
“Fralley is a Thierrian,” Giles said, reading the book. “Strong, fast, extremely
intelligent, almost impossible to kill unless you get a direct thrust to the
heart. But Thierrians have almost no magical talent, so even here the medallion will be of
no use to him. They are legendary, however, for hiring themselves out as, well,
‘finders.’ Thierrians love to have both their brains and their brawn challenged in an
“So how’d he open up the gateway?” Buffy asked. “I mean, if he has no talent –“
Dray sighed. “That’s my fault. I prepared a contingency spell that I could use
if I ever got some time to myself. Fralley watched me cast it, and asked me what I
was doing. Like an idiot, I told him.”
He might have been smart, magically talented, and dedicated, but Dray had as
much common sense as a blood-starved vampire. “So he was playing both sides,” I said.
“Dray, you got fooled. Several times over.”
To his credit, Dray hid his annoyance very quickly.
“Yes,” Giles said, “But unfortunately, he’s now in his element, especially if no one
knows exactly where the medallion is. He can use his brains to find the medallion and
his brawn to beat anyone up who comes after it.”
“Sounds like fun,” Spike said, emerging from the back with a few bruises, Smedli
trailing after him. “Smedli here was just giving me a few pointers in how ogres
beat the hell out of people. So now can we go FIND this mook Fralley? I mean, counting
all of us we have enough raw power here to take down the Hulk.”
“Indeed,” Giles said. “It seems to me we have a couple of tasks at hand: Finding
Fralley, and finding the medallion. Not to mention figuring out a way to get Mr.
Dotes and Mr. Garrett here back to their home dimension.”
“I guess that leaves us here doing the research?” Tara asked.
Nodding his head, Giles said, “Yes. It’s also probably a good idea to keep
Willow as far from the medallion as possible – no offense.”
“Offense taken,” Willow said primly. “But I’ll save my bloody revenge for later.”
Giles shot her a disturbed look, but didn’t say anything else. “I’m going to stay here
“I’m for trying to track down Fralley,” Spike said, surprising no one. Morley
enthusiastically agreed with him.
“Good, then; you two do that. Mr. Dray –“ Without a further word, Morley and Spike
slipped out the front door, quietly. If I hadn’t been looking I wouldn’t have known
“I should look for the medallion. And Smedli should probably go with me.”
“Yah,” Smedli said, the first thing he’d said since I’d first laid eyes on him; I’d
begun to suspect he was mute. “Don’t want to run into Fralley again. Also don’t want to
stay near the elf.” Right, Morley’d broken his hand. If we got through this Morley might
actually have to spend thirty seconds or so disposing of the ogre.
“So that leaves the four of us looking for the medallion?” Buffy asked. “We can
do that. Um, Smedli, you don’t exactly blend in around here; you mind sticking to
Again, Smedli nodded enthusiastically. Ten to one he was regretting his
flash-of-anger decision to charge through the doorway.
And that’s how me, a vampire slayer, a semi-competent wizard and an oddly
pensive ogre came to find ourselves heading back towards the Bronze.
Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. It never was.