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Summary: A response to Jinni's five song challenge- Asher is sent by the council to investigate reports of military activity near the Hellmouth

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Anita Blake > Willow-Centered > Pairing: AsherdulcineaFR1855165,32913100123,4992 May 043 Sep 06Yes

Bad Boy - 10

~ Initiative Quarantine, Monday, 6:30 p.m.~

Giles was surprised to be met outside the men’s room by a short but determined woman in a lab coat. “Follow me.” She barked out turning down the hall. Giles found himself flanked by soldiers and unable to do anything else but comply. He was led down the hall to a small doctor’s office. “Sit.” She commanded.

“Excuse me, miss, but could you explain what’s going on?”

“That’s doctor, not miss.” She corrected, staring at him expectedly.



“Do you have a last name or are you just doctor?” Giles was irritable and tired. He missed his books, his comfy chair, that little stained glass reading lamp he had gotten from the British Museum as a going away present; he couldn’t help but let a little bit of the sarcastic side out.

“I am Dr. Walsh. Get up on the examining table. We need to have a look at you.”

Giles did a double take when he recognized the name. “Last I heard, Doctor, your kind used reclining couches, not operating tables.”

She sighed at him tiredly and snapped her fingers. Giles found himself being picked up and carried to the operating table by several soldiers. “Now are you going to cooperate, or will they have to tie you down?” Giles could tell by the gleam in her eye that she really wanted to tie him down, regardless of his response.

“Madam, you are entirely out of line. You may be able to persecute your own citizens as such, but I am a British national, and refuse to be treated like this.” Giles huffed indignantly. Unfortunately that was all the provocation the soldiers needed to tie him down, despite his valiant attempts at shaking them off. He suddenly stopped struggling when he felt the needle enter his forearm. “What is that?” He cried at the sudden pain, but the pain quickly faded, as his world fell into a fuzzy blackness.

“Finally.” Maggie Walsh muttered. “Could you please fetch Dr. Angleman?” She ordered one of the Gamma squad attendants. “The rest of you can wait outside, I’m sure I can handle an unconscious librarian.” She announced tiredly. The Gamma squadron filed out, staking positions in the hallway.

“Now, Mr. Giles, we shall see what sort of librarian you really are.” Maggie smirked, observing the man on the table. He looked much younger when he was passed out on the table, evidently his tired eyes and worried face added years to his image. The medical doctor soon entered the room and nodded to Maggie.

“So this is one of the civilians brought in?” He asked, quickly inspecting Rupert from head to toe before turning to the medical files. Maggie nodded. “He took considerably longer than the girl did to recover from the tazer shock, yet she had a far more direct hit; that’s curious.”

“Do you think it’s his age or something else?”

“Well, his reaction was much more on par with what we had expected from the few trials we had run.” Dr. Angleman wrote down a few comments on his clipboard. “Has he actually recovered from the hit?”

“Yes. We had to subdue him because he was raving a bit ago and I wanted you be able to complete your examination.” Maggie answered, not at all disturbed by her actions.

“Well, I hope you used a small dose. It will be hard to test his reflexes if he’s out cold.” Dr. Angleman frowned. He appreciated his colleague’s creativity and insight, but she did have a tendency to go into overkill mode a bit too often. Dr. Angleman placed his stethoscope against Giles’ chest, listening for a moment. So far this man seemed completely human. That was a relief. Dr. Angleman had only seen the computer readouts on the young girl’s physiology, but she had seemed just a tad off. Nothing quite as drastic as the H.S.T.s, but most levels were elevated compared to average humans. He was anxious to get her on the examining table. The doctor was flashing a light into Giles eyes to see if he dilated normally when Giles woke up, blinking furiously.

“Relax, I’m just making sure you’re healthy.”

“The only reason I’m not healthy is that your army has attacked me, locked me up, and then
attempted to drug me both directly and through my food.” Giles muttered.

Dr. Angleman gave Dr. Walsh a questioning glance which she shrugged off. “You also have a history of concussions, is that correct?”

“I do not see what that has to do with…”

“Did those incidents all take place since you moved to Sunnydale?” Dr. Angleman continued his questioning.

“Of course not.” Giles scoffed at that. After all, he had been hit on the head numerous times in training for his post in Sunnydale, long before he arrived.

“So you would describe yourself as accident prone?”

“No, I would not.” Giles looked confused.

“But your head shows signs of repeated bumping and scarring.” Dr. Angleman moved on to looking into Giles’ ears.

“Well, yes, but it comes from my profession.”

“You’re a librarian, Mr. Giles.” Dr. Walsh said scathingly, “Or are you something else?”

“Well, you know, books fall all the time.” He mumbled. “And I wasn’t always a high school librarian. My work as a curator frequently had me traveling into unsafe areas.”

“Mr. Giles, why are you here?” Dr. Walsh decided to start on her questioning while the other doctor finished up.

“Because you were blocking the doorway with a troop of soldiers, ma’am,” Giles fixed a steely glare on the professor.

“I mean Sunnydale. Why would a curator of the British Museum take everything he owned and move to a nondescript town in California and set up shop as a high school librarian?”

“That does not concern you.” Giles scowled, doing his best not to swat at the other doctor who was hovering around his head like a mosquito.

“Just answer the question.”

“I left England to avoid dealing with my father. California has a rich tradition of native and colonial artifacts, my expertise, and Sunnydale had a post available, so I decided to move. You’re the psychologist; surely you appreciate the Freudian tradition of blaming all poor decisions on one’s father.”

His snarky remarks were cut off as Dr. Angleman shoved a tongue depressor down his throat. “Say aah.”

“Do you frequently regress to childhood roles?” Dr. Walsh asked. “Is that why you keep company with teenage girls?”

“Nmow waid a mimue, I bu mod iyek youw imsimuadons!” Giles tried to retort, nearly biting through the tongue depressor. Dr. Angleman sighed, and removed the instrument. “Your insinuations are completely uncalled for. I will not sit here and be insulted.” Giles tried to climb off the operating table, but was immediately pushed back down.

“How else do you explain your involvement with Ms. Summers and Ms. Rosenberg?” Dr. Walsh glared at Giles.

“They were students at the school where I was on the faculty. Ms. Rosenberg spent considerable time in the library as an aide, and her friends frequently met her there. There is nothing inappropriate with my relationships!” Giles was thoroughly ruffled by now.

“And what about Hostile 17?”

“I don’t give a damn about Spike! He could burn in the sun for all I care. I just want to get Willow back from wherever he’s taken her, and you, madam, are in the way.” Giles shoved off the chair restraints that had been keeping him contained and attempted to stand up. Dr. Angleman watched the exchange nervously. He had never seen someone try so hard to get in Maggie Walsh’s face, and that included several species of H.S.T.s.

“But you know his name; obviously, you are conspiring with him.” She stated, her voice filled with cold disdain.

“If you had bothered to ask him, he would have told you his damn name. Now, release Buffy and me at once. This interview is over.”

“This interview isn’t over until I say it’s over.”

Giles thought about it for a second, then let his right hook fly at Dr. Walsh’s jaw. Dr. Angleman hit the panic button on the wall. The Gamma squad came pouring in, and hauled Giles off of Maggie, dragging him into the hallway. “Well, the good news is, he’s 100% human.” Dr. Angleman said, offering Dr. Walsh a hand up.

Giles was thrown awkwardly back into the quarantine cell, landing at Buffy’s feet as the door slammed shut behind him. He took a minute to catch his breath and regain his British sensibilities. “I owe you an apology.” He offered his slayer. “This is indeed a government conspiracy, and your psychology professor is a bitch.”

~ Anya’s Apartment, Tuesday, 8:00 a.m. ~

Xander woke up feeling happy. His girl was in his arms, it was a Tuesday morning, and he didn’t have to report to work until three. He had nothing ahead of him except a long morning of smoochies and napping, with maybe a lunch trip to the campus to see his best friends. They hadn’t even called back with any demon of the week, so patrols must have been light. Life was good. He should have known better.


“Yeah, Ahn?”

“I was thinking. You know that thing you did last night?”

“We did a lot of things last night, which are you thinking about?” Xander smiled lazily.

“You know, that thing. That thing that gets me feelin’ so breathless?”

“You mean like this?” Xander rolled Anya over, so that she was lying on top of him, and kissed her soundly.

Anya laughed lightly. “Something like that.”

“I love you. You make me feel so good, Ahn.” Xander couldn’t help but feel schmoopy. There was nothing like waking up with your girl in your arms.

“And you, I like you too, a lot. You make me feel good too. I knew you would be better than any other boy at that school.”

“Is that so?” Xander kissed Anya sweetly. There was nothing like having your ego stroked by a thousand year old ex-demon who was an expert on these things.

“Yes. The way you hold me tight, it gets me so excited.” Anya slipped a hand underneath the sheets. “You’re excited too.” She smirked.

“Oh I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” And that was all it took to take the excitement out of Xander.

“Hallie!” Anya shrieked, twirling around to see the demon that had materialized in her bedroom.

“Hey girlfriend! Looks like you’re having a good morning.”

“Darn tootin’! I was just about to have sex with my man.” Anya smiled. “Hmm, I like the sound of that, my man. All mine. I don’t have to share or anything… unless…” She turned to face Xander, who was still staring at Hallie in shock, the red was just beginning to creep into his cheeks as he realized a demon was checking him out. “I take it you don’t want to share? Oh well.” Anya turned back to Hallie. “So what’s up? Is there a problem or were you just in the neighborhood?”

“Oh, it’s just a social call; I figured you’d want in on the big party.”


“So you haven’t heard? The slayer is out of commission, so we’re having a big party to celebrate. It’s at the old high school pool at midnight. Are you in?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Who’s going to be there? Is it just the old crowd, or can any fledge crash?” Anya was contemplating, when Xander finally stopped blushing enough to think through the last statement.

“Whoa there, what do you mean by out of commission??”

“How should I know?”

“Well, is she dead or what?” Xander jumped out of bed furious.

“I think if she was dead we’d know. I think this is just an unplanned trip out of town… oh, or maybe she’s being held hostage? I forgot to ask.” Hallie shrugged. Xander was a cute boy, but Anya sure didn’t pick the brightest one of the bunch; he completely missed the whole ‘we’re having a party and you’re invited’ bit. Hallie turned back to Anya. “So are you coming? You can bring a date.”

“Ooh, that’s tempting. I bet it would be better than whatever the Bronze is doing tonight. So if it’s a pool party, does that mean I should bring a bikini, or is it more one of those clothes optional parties?”

“No, Anya, honey, no.” Xander was furious. “They’re having a party because something bad has happened to Buffy. We need to find Buffy.”

“Well, what if we find Buffy this afternoon? Can we go to the party tonight then?” Anya pouted. Hallie couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Xander was the brighter one after all.

“Dear, if you find Buffy, then there is no reason to party.” Hallie politely informed her friend. “And that would be a pity. I heard Zoltan is planning on showing up.”

“Really? I haven’t seen him since that whole banned from Europe thing, which was such a farce. I mean, it’s not like those people really needed potatoes; they could have had leeks and been fine. What’s a little plague between friends?”

“What?!” Xander stared at his girlfriend. He had almost been lured into the thought that she was normal, and then she’d say something like that.

“Well, I mean really, it wasn’t his fault that he was just a little drunk. And it’s not like Ireland didn’t recover in a few years. Ooh, I wonder if he’s still partial to green, I think I still have that halter top with the emerald beads…”

“So a plague demon is coming to Sunnydale, Buffy is missing, and you’re worried about fashion?!” Xander was furious.

“If Buffy were here, she’d be worried about fashion too.” Anya tried to apply logic to Xander’s stressed state, but somehow it didn’t seem to be getting through.

“The point is she’s missing and we have to find her.”

“Oh alright. Sorry Halfrek, looks like I’m sitting this one out, at least until Xander goes to sleep tonight. I might stop by a little later though.”

“That’s too bad. It’s been so long since I’ve caught up with you. Oh well, better luck next time. Have fun.” Halfrek blinked out existence leaving behind a very confused Xander. Suddenly, it wasn’t such a good day after all.

~ The Harris’ Basement, Tuesday, 8:20 a.m.~

Xander had gone straight home after Halfrek had left. He needed to change and see Giles immediately. If the demons thought Buffy was out of town, it was going to be a rough night. He was just about to step out of the shower when the phone rang. Grabbing a towel, he ran for the phone. “Hey?”

“Hey there bad boy, want to talk dirty?” A silky voice purred.

“Oh it’s you.” Xander sighed, cradling the phone as he tightened the towel around his waist.

“Xander!” The girl pouted.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“You’re doing it all wrong.”

“What am I doing wrong?” Xander frowned. His mind was still on lather, rinse, repeat. He wasn’t up for trying to decode the secret language of women.

“When I call you on the phone, it goes ring ring ring. You pick up; I flirt. Then you say ‘Oh yeah baby!’ not ‘Oh, it’s you.’” Anya pouted. “Geesh, even I know that and I’m not all human.”

“Sorry about that, Ahn, I was just expecting it would be Giles calling me back. I called him twice yesterday, and he hasn’t said anything.”

“Well, maybe he went out with Buffy to wherever.”

“I think I’m going to swing by his place, just in case.” There was an awkward pause until Xander realized that Anya was waiting for him to say something; he just wasn’t sure what. “Um, do you want to come along?”

“Okay.” Obviously, he had guessed wrong on what she wanted to hear, but his answer wasn’t technically wrong.

“So, um, I’ll stop by in like fifteen minutes?” He asked, not sure what she really wanted to ask him.

“I suppose.” Anya sounded hesitant.

“Thanks.” He answered, waiting for a moment, hoping she would say something. “I love you Anya.” He finally added.

“Yes you do!” Anya answered happily. He could hear her smile as she hung up on him. Weird.

Song 4: Bad Boy – Gloria Estefan

Bad boy, bad boy
Bad boy, bad boy
Boys will be boys, bad boy, bad boy
Boys will be boys, bad boy.bad boy
Boys will be boys, bad boy, bad boy
Always gettin' so restless, nothin' but trouble
Boys will be boys, bad boy, bad boy
Get me feelin' breathless, nothin' but trouble
Boys will be boys, bad boy, bad boy

Bad, bad, bad, bad boy, you make me feel so good
Bad, bad, bad, bad boy, you make me feel so good, knew you would

The way you hold me tight you get me so excited
You do me oh , so right, my heart goes beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat

Bad, bad, bad, bad boy, you make me feel so good, I want you
Bad, bad, bad, bad boy, you make me feel so good, knew you would

Boys will be boys, bad boy, bad boy
Always gettin' so restless, nothin' but trouble
Boys will be boys, bad boy, bad boy
Get me feelin' breathless, nothin' but trouble

And when he drives me home
I feel safe at night
You call me on the phone
it goes ring, ring, ring, ring-a-ring, ring

Boys will be boys, bad boy, bad boy
Always gettin' so restless, nothin' but trouble
Boys will be boys, bad boy, bad boy
Get me feelin' breathless, nothin' but trouble
Boys will be boys, bad boy, bad boy
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