Tests
The cemetery at St. John’s Church held few new graves. Most of them dated back to the 1800s. Any of the
vampires that failed to spring from those tombs were far from springy now, and therefore represented no
danger to the Slayers. However, the row of crumbling mausoleums that ringed the outer circle of the
cemetery was like luxury vampire condominiums. Pricey real estate, if you could muscle your way in.
Turnover was pretty high, though. There was always a bigger, badder Big Bad looking to score a new crypt,
and St. John’s Church had the best earth in Londontown.
Buffy stood in front of the double iron gate, with Kennedy and William flanking her. Three girls faced them:
Carmen, Renee and Anjelica. Twilight drained the sky to the color of ashes, and the almost full moon filled the
night with watery blue shadows.
Carmen and Renee looked less than intimidated. They were wiry, confident girls who, as twins, inclined toward
one another when they stood together. They reminded Buffy of the Siamese cats from Lady and the Tramp.
Both had chosen to fight with short swords from the weapons chest. They mimicked Kennedy’s rigid posture
as Buffy prepared to lay down the rules of the evening’s trial.
But Anjelica: whole other story. With her short-cropped beige hair and eyes like small brown houses, she had
the looks of a girl who’d weathered her share of tempests. Kennedy openly called Anjelica Miss Mouse during
training because of the girl’s drab gray timidity. Anjelica had chosen a halberd for the test, which Buffy felt,
was a bad idea. Anjelica choked up too far on the haft in training, and sometimes even managed to trip
herself.
Yet here they all were. Saturday night in a cemetery – Buffy’s idea of a good time.
“Behind us, is a nest,” Buffy said. “Eight vampires, in eight crypts. You all have been patrolling. You know
what we’re up against. But even with their supercharge, you have something they don’t. You are Slayers.
You have each other. And you will beat them. Tonight.”
Kennedy stepped in. She said, “Right. The trial will go as follows. You three will attack and kill the vampires in
this bone yard. Rely on each other. Rely on yourselves. If one of us has to bail you out, you fail.”
“Willow is in the tower,” Buffy said, pointing behind the girls to the burned out husk of an abandoned bell
tower on church grounds. “She’ll be our comlink and surveillance.”
“Except not for me,” William interrupted. “I don’t fancy having extra voices in my head.”
Buffy continued. “Willow will be able to clue you in to the vamps’ whereabouts if and when they leave their
crypts. William, Kennedy and I will keep the perimeter, but we will only jump in if you’re about to die.”
The color drained from Anjelica’s already waxen face. Carmen raised her hand.
When Kennedy acknowledged her, Carmen asked, “Um. Why are we doing this at night, when it would be an
easy dust during the day?”
Kennedy flashed Carmen a satisfied smile. “Because you need the practice,” she said.
“Right,” Buffy said. “It’s time.”
She, William and Kennedy left the cemetery yard, slamming the iron-gate behind them. Kennedy and William
struck off in opposite directions to take their positions along the outer wall. Buffy lingered a few moments to
watch the girls. They shuffled about, unsure of themselves, for all of three seconds. Then, just as she
expected, Carmen and Renee calved off together, leaving Anjelica to fend for herself.
Buffy climbed to the top of the archway. As she did, she heard Willow’s voice in her head.
Kennedy and Spike are in position, she said. Let the games begin.
From Buffy’s perch aloft, she could see the girls. Carmen and Renee split off left, still together. Anjelica
lingered, woefully conspicuous. Buffy’s stomach twisted. She felt not good about the whole thing.
“Move,” Buffy whispered to herself. “Move, silly girl.”
As if hearing Buffy’s words, Anjelica moved down the right-hand path on her own.
Carmen and Renee took on the first mausoleum they came to. Renee kicked the metal door. It splintered with
an echoing crack. Dust settled, and nothing. The crypt was empty, and they had just blown all hope for
surprise.
Well, that’ll wake the dead, Willow thought.
A few seconds later, a massively muscled vampire stepped from his vault. This one was probably on the freak
show circuit before getting vamped. He hulked over them, bare-chested and wearing studded leather chaps.
The twins were taken aback for a fraction. Then they launched at him like a Cuisinart, blades drawn and
expertly chopping. Buffy thought it would be a quick, painful kill for them until two of his buddies joined the
fight.
On the other side of the graveyard, Anjelica remained disengaged in fighting. At the sound of conflict, she
ducked from Buffy’s view.
Buffy focused on her connection with Willow. Can you see Anjelica? she asked.
Busily cowering, Willow sent back.
“Not good,” Buffy breathed.
With their impressive with-it-ness, Carmen and Renee dusted one of their trio. Buffy made a mental tick
mark. One down...
They swooped with feline fierceness on the second. Buffy almost felt sorry for the vampire. Renee cart-
wheeled a kick to his head. At the same time, Carmen sidestepped under his defense. She hacked into his
spine. Renee brought her sword up in a brutally smooth arc. Their blades met mid-throat. The vampire’s head
tumbled from its shoulders like a bucket full of dust. The one that remained darted deeper into the cemetery.
Willow said, The others are wakey. All six have gathered near the obelisk on the other side of the tower.
“Oh, dammit,” Buffy said. Now she couldn’t see any of them. She dropped down from the gate to stand guard.
For a moment she only heard the clangor of engagement. Crushing bones. Tearing flesh. Skin popping from
musculature.
How’re they doing? Buffy asked.
Two more down. Anjelica’s struggling... Then, Oh! Anjelica got one!
“Yes,” Buffy said. She shifted weight from one foot to the other. She chewed her lip. To Willow she said, Tell
them to bring the conflict around so I can see it.
Then Buffy saw Anjelica stumble backward onto the path, a vampire bearing down on her. Before getting to
her feet again, Anjelica sent a frantic ‘help me’ look in Buffy’s direction. Buffy fought back the fierce instinct
to leap in. She waited, ready to jump.
The assailant vamp was a ragged, scrawny thing. What he lacked in size, he more than made up for in
quickness. He rabbited Anjelica between the headstones. She seemed to have forgotten her weapon. He
drove her backward into one of the mausoleums below William’s guarded wall.
Willow... Buffy began.
Wait, Willow sent back. Another vampire approaching from without. Right behind Spike.
Buffy glanced up. William had left the wall. Buffy broke into a run.
It was too late. The interloping vampire leapt to the top of the outer wall, descending in a swirl of black
leather. He was snapping neck by the time Buffy arrived.
Buffy paused at the vault door, panting, prepared for the worst. Anjelica lay on the crypt floor, powdered
with vampire dust and looking both grateful and amazed. The other vampire looked out of the bleakness with
eyes agleam.
She stared at him, puzzled herself. It wasn’t until he shook off his demon face that she understood.
“Angel,” William said from behind Buffy. “Can’t a guy take a hint?”
Buffy started at the sound of William’s voice.
Angel reached down to help Anjelica to her feet. She began immediately to pound the dust from her clothing.
“Angel, what are you doing here?” Buffy finally managed to say.
“I smelled blood,” he said.
Buffy shrank back. “You did?” she asked. William glanced at her but said nothing.
“Smelled blood? What, you were just passing through the neighborhood?” William said.
“I was on my route,” Angel said, all Mr. Smooth. “Heard noise. Smelled blood. Cemetery nearby. I drew the
necessary conclusions.”
“You ruined our test,” Buffy said, recovering her composure.
“Test?” Angel asked.
Outside the crypt, the final vampire ran behind them screaming like a siren. Buffy staked him without looking
back.
“That’s right,” William said, enjoying a bit of turnabout. “Slayer Rite of Passage. You just ballsed it up. Nice
work.”
“I thought she was in danger,” Angel said.
Kennedy stepped up. “She was in danger,” she said. “Miss Mouse, front and center.”
Anjelica’s dark eyes flicked toward Buffy. She walked out of the tomb like a woman being led to her execution.
Carmen, Renee and Willow joined them. They all formed a loose circle with Anjelica and Kennedy in the center.
Kennedy towered over Anjelica. She brought her shoulders back to lengthen the advantage of her size. “You
were pathetic,” Kennedy bit out.
“Kennedy...” Buffy warned.
But Kennedy went on, unheeding. “A disservice to yourself and your Sister Slayers. You fail. And you’re out.”
Buffy stepped in front of Anjelica. She said, “That’s not your call.” Her tone was chips of ice.
“She failed the test,” Kennedy said, voice firm.
“The test was botched by Sir Forehead the Brave,” William added. “We’ll have to re-try her.”
“Yeah, besides,” Willow put in, “It wasn’t a ‘fail, you’re out’ kind of deal. It was a ‘let’s see what we need to
re-teach’ test. Which, by the way, Carmen and Renee... no re-teach required.”
Kennedy planted her hands on her hips. “Is that right? Well, your huggy-feelly American teaching style will
take you all to your graves. She’s got the skills and grace of an albatross. If you want that around your
neck...”
William stepped in, eyeing a fight. He said, “Park your angst, Ani DiFranco, If you don’t like it...”
Kennedy clenched her fists.
“Guys,” Buffy intervened. “Not here, not now. Anjelica has other abilities. She stays. We’ll retest.”
“We don’t have time for that,” Kennedy said, agitation rising in her voice. “Where will we find another vamp
nest? You saw Willow’s sweep. Not another one for...”
“There’re a few in Camden,” Angel offered.
Buffy blinked. Willow knitted her brows.
“Sure,” Angel said. “It’s a train ride away. I can show you.”
“But how do you...” Buffy began.
“Because Angel still has ties to the Evil Empire. Isn’t that right?” William said.
“I am a vampire, Spike,” Angel said. “I can help out, if you let me.”
“No th...” William said.
Anjelica sat down hard on the path. She touched her fingers to her scalp where a deep cut ran along her
crown. The blood Angel had scented was hers.
Willow dropped to her knees beside the girl. Buffy, Carmen and Renee crowded in.
“She may be concussed,” Buffy said, after a quick once over. “We need to get her to a hospital.”
Kennedy said, “We’ll go. You’ve got your hands full with Darth Vampire.”
Buffy hesitated. Willow put a reassuring arm around Buffy’s shoulder.
“We’ll make sure she gets home just fine, too,” Willow said.
Buffy lifted Anjelica’s chin with her hand. “You’ll be fine,” she said. “It’s a little thing, okay?”
Anjelica nodded, then winced. Carmen and Renee each got under one arm and helped Anjelica to her feet.
Buffy felt a surge of uneasy queasiness well in her stomach when Willow and the others had gone. That she
chalked up to being left alone with her ex, and her ex ex.
Right away, Buffy turned to Angel. “So, are you or are you not with Wolfram & Hart? Be straight with us,
Angel.”
Angel paused, considering his words with great care. “I know how it must seem,” he said. “But you both have
to trust that I’m doing what’s right here. You have to have power to protect.”
“Not that power,” Buffy said. “It has to come from what’s good and right, Angel. You’re playing a game you
can’t win.”
“No, I’m not,” Angel said.
“Yes, you are,” she said.
“But I’m not...”
“What do you think this is, an argument clinic?” Buffy cried. She put her hand to her forehead to massage
away the headache that was forming there. “William told me, about Cordelia and Wes and Fred. About
everything that happened to you. Wolfram & Hart is fueled by evil...”
Angel held up his hand. “Buffy, can the pep-talk. I know what I’m doing here.”
“Then it’s not safe for us to be chance meeting like this,” she said.
Angel took a step in her direction. “I know that,” he said. Buffy held her ground, knowing William was right
behind her.
“If we are on opposite sides, you have to stop helping us. For all our sakes,” Buffy said. The words fell like
stones from her mouth. She turned in the path and walked away, leaving both men to watch her go.
William wandered the house. He opened cabinets and closet doors, checked under sinks. There was something
he misplaced, but as was the way in dreams, it eluded him. As always, he wound up in the kitchen. He swung
open the pantry doors. Dried pasta. Kidney beans. Boxes of fruit juice. Wheatabix. Sachets of tea. All
perfectly normal, nothing out of place.
He turned around. Beside the refrigerator, there was a new door. He went to it, pulled it open.
It was a linen closet, shelves packed to bursting with towels, sheets and pillowcases. Crammed in between
them, was Anya.
“Anya, you’re in the linens,” he said.
“I know,” she said, in an exaggerated whisper. “Where else can I hide?”
“Finland?” he offered.
“Oh, that’s great. Bait me with the geographically impossible. This was your idea,” she said.
“What? How is that?” he said.
“That parole officer/guardian angel I mentioned. Turns out, he’s no angel at all. In fact, I think he’s a demon.
A particularly nasty one,” she said. “Probably Kimaris.”
William was barely paying attention to her. He found himself compelled to drag out a suspicious looking set of
sheets.
“You’ve got blood on these,” he said. He held it up to show her. “Dawn’ll be miffed.”
“Spike, you aren’t listening to me. This demon, he’s keeping tabs,” she said. She dropped her voice to a
whisper again. “He can hurt me. And I don’t think you can remember our conversations once you wake up.”
“You’ll have to leave a message,” he said, pointing to her. “Write it in the steam when we’re in the shower.”
“I can’t! I can’t leave the kitchen,” she said.
“Bollocks,” William said. “You’re a bloody spook. You can’t be bound by rooms or places.”
Anya gathered sheets around to hide all but her face. “I can. I’m a prisoner, Spike.”
William looked away from her, over his shoulder. He started to close the closet door. “I have to go now.
I’m searching for something,” he said.
“You’re searching for me!” Anya shouted.
William paused, considering. Then, “No. I don’t think so. You’re a right catch, and if I were non-corporeal,
you’d be the girl for me...”
“Spike,” Anya said, voice full of force. “Don’t wake up. The guardian, remember? The Frenchman with the
dragonfly? His name is Luxe. Spike!”
William awoke to an eerily empty feeling in the house. On the nightstand, Buffy had left a note on a scrap of
wrapping paper:
Gone to shops.
Be home soon.
~ Buffy
He padded downstairs, rubbing his eyes, head still groggy from his dream. He’d been looking for something...
He opened the refrigerator, still puzzling out the fragments, when he heard a noise in one of the back rooms.
Immediately, he thought of Angel. It would be like him to slip in and lurk when everyone was asleep. Angel’s
invitation had not been revoked, after all, and he sometimes got the nervy notion to poke around in other
people’s affairs even when he was clearly not wanted.
William crept down the hall toward the TV room. The door to the bathroom was open and the light was on. He
slipped to the door, full stealth engaged, every muscle tensed to pounce, every nerve on full alert.
Just as he was ready to burst in, Buffy said: “Don’t come in.”
He relaxed, then pushed on the door to enter anyway.
“Stop it...”
“Buffy, I’ve seen you from every angle,” he said.
“Just... give me a second,” she said.
“Fine,” he said. He leaned against the wall beside the bathroom door. It was then that he saw the brown
paper package on the phone stand, and the little torn edge of a box poking out it. He went over, all casual, all
everything-is-like-Sunday normal, and picked up the box.
Later, when recalling this moment, William would marvel at how calm and removed everything seemed, like he
was watching the whole thing unfold on an episode of Passions. He brought the box back over, and leaned
against the wall.
“Funny,” he said. “I always figured you for a BC girl.”
On the other side of the door, Buffy smacked her forehead and cursed Freud.
“What would the point be, exactly, given my history?” she said. Her hands were shaking. But William couldn’t
see that. She elaborated out of sheer nervousness. “Let’s see, we have a rogue’s gallery which includes Angel
and you. Both vampires. Riley was Condom Lad. Parker, one night stand and Charlie was an Immortal. They’re
nixie on the need for family planning.”
“The Immortal’s name is Charlie?” William asked. Then refocused. “Guess we should have thought of this, since
I returned endowed with... fluids.”
“When you say it that way,” Buffy said, “Really gross.”
She came out of the bathroom, holding the wand in both hands. Little stick of plastic held their full, unbroken
attention.
“Now we wait,” she said.
“How long?” he said.
“Few minutes.”
They both watched, unblinking, unbreathing.
“That’s... blue,” William said.
Buffy made a whimperish sound.
He looked from the wand to her and back again. “Is blue good?” he asked. “Is blue bad?”
“Blue is... blue,” she answered.
“Bollocks,” he breathed.
“W-We can’t tell anyone, Will. Not until we’re sure. We don’t know. I mean, how accurate can a little plastic
wand thingie be?”
William held up the package. “Box says 99 percent.”
“What do boxes know?” she asked.
“Well, we should tell them. Tell ’em all,” he said, with the not-so-calm anymore. “Safety in bloody numbers. And
full stop on patrolling...”
Buffy fled. She pushed past him, hands pressed to her face like an Edvard Munsch painting. She needed air and
space around her. She couldn’t breathe.
William followed, persistent. “...and no more wine with dinner. No shellfish. No caffeine. Or hormone-injected
beef. Oh, and avoid all public transport.”
Buffy stepped out onto the patio with him close behind her. “Stop it,” she said, rounding on him. But he looked
as vulnerable as she felt.
“We are the biggest, dumbest big dumb idiots on the planet,” she said.
“I know it,” he said, nodding. His throat had constricted to the size of a string, and no amount of swallowing
helped it.
She went over to the picnic table and sat down on the bench, the wand still in her hand. Every part of her was
in chaos, and she didn’t know whether to laugh about it or cry.
Quietly, William crossed the yard. He took the seat beside her, lay his hand on her back. They waited
together in the stillness of the garden, knowing that everything had suddenly and irrevocably changed.
