Author: Lucinda

Rated t for teen

tenth in the 'Small Favor' series

Disclaimer: anyone you recognize does not belong to me, Willow belongs to Joss Whedon, Remy belongs to Marvel Comics.

Distribution: archived at , permission given to Mental Wanderings, Luba, Twisting, PEJA, NHA, WLS, Bite Me - anyone else please ask. If you have permission for an earlier "Small Favor" then you still have permission.

Notes: set in a slightly altered s4 BtVS, AU for Marvel in that Remy never joined the X-Men.

sf10..sf10..sf10..sf10

Willow’s day had not started well. She’d had awful dreams about frogs swarming out of the drains, and the frogs in the biology classroom reanimating and hopping around in the building, their revolting slimy bodies reeking of formaldehyde, croaking at her, with their eyes clouded over and their teeth gleaming under the fluorescent lights. That had been followed by all the hot water being used up before she got her shower, leaving her shivering and miserable, though clean.

The call from her parents hadn’t helped. Her dad had told her to stay out of trouble and not to talk to salesmen. Her mother had told her that they wouldn’t be home for Thanksgiving, because there was a fascinating conference in Las Vegas that they were going to attend, and she was certain that Willow would be able to cope for the holiday. Perhaps she could spend a bit of time with Alex, or perhaps, if no one else was available, with Bunny.

Willow didn’t remember exactly what she’d told her mother, though she’d probably told her – again – that her friends were Xander and Buffy. That she could manage over the holiday without them. That she’d collect the mail and check on the house.

Turkeys, cranberry jelly, and sweet potatoes were on special sales in the stores in preparation for Thanksgiving, and Willow had decided that her life sucked and she hated Sunnydale. Her parents had cancelled on her. Her classes had remained as they had been before, lots of busywork, a few people goofing off, some causing trouble, and some trying to crib notes and emergency pre-test study sessions from those who wanted to pay attention. Anya had found a book about several hundred different sexual positions, and had decided that she and Xander needed to work their way through all of them.

Willow wanted to avoid the details. Buffy had looked ready to take notes.

Amy was getting instructions in magic. Anya and Giles would give her a bit here and a bit there, and for now, Amy was staying in the second bedroom of the apartment that Anya and Xander shared. She seemed entirely cheerful about the whole thing.

Giles hadn't offered Willow any lessons at all. In fact, he'd asked her to do a locator spell for a demon nest to send Buffy after, and to destroy another magical talisman found in a nest of vampires.

Willow didn't know how to destroy that one either.

What she had done was invest in a small safe, about the size of an ottoman, and left it in her room at her parents’ house. Right now, it held the few bits of good jewelry that she owned, the inlaid box from the crypt, four small magical talismans from various demons they'd slain and the one from D'Hoffryn, a copy of the soul restoration ritual on a disk and in printout form, a couple pieces from Ted the robot, and her legal documentation. It looked rather empty. But at least it would keep casual snoops out of her things.

Returning to the dorm room after psychology, Willow was surprised at the quiet. Buffy had insisted that they needed to spend some time together, to just relax, hang out and make their own mochas. Buffy was many things, but quiet wasn't one of them. Glancing around the room, there was no Buffy. No Buffy and Buffy's white jacket was gone. There was also a note stuck to the front of the little refrigerator they kept in the dorm.

With the sinking feeling that she'd been ditched again, Willow gestured for the note to come over. The magnet fell to the floor, and Willow made a mental note to pick it up later. She looked at the paper, unsure if she should be hoping for some sort of demon crisis. Buffy's familiar handwriting held some answers, but not enough.

Willow

Giles called - some weird stuff at the museum, some old Indian pots got broken and some other old Indian stuff got stolen. Some local tribe - chum-smash?

He thinks it's something hellmouthy. Riley's giving me a lift over to Giles' place.

Meet us there for research when you get back from class, ok?

Buffy

Reading the note, Willow could feel her teeth grinding together, and a blood vessel in her temple started to throb. Buffy couldn't wait for Willow to get back so they could head over together? She wanted her to just meet them over there? Granted, hellmouthy weirdness was a fairly good reason to cancel girls' night, but... She was angry about the whole thing. There wasn't even a note about having to cancel plans, just Riley giving her a lift, head over. What if she had other things to do? What if...

No, in Buffy's mind, Willow never had any other plans. And apparently canceling plans with Willow was something that was no big deal. After all, since Willow had no plans, they could just do something later, right? Except that 'later' never seemed to include Willow. Buffy's note was now a crumpled ball in Willow's hand.

From her backpack, a ringing noise caught Willow’s attention, dragging her thoughts away from images of Buffy drowning in a giant mocha. Someone was calling her. If it was Buffy… well, it better not be Buffy. Or Xander. Or anyone asking when she’d be at Giles house for research.

Fighting to keep her calm, Willow answered the phone, “This is Willow.”

“Nice to hear you, Willow. Remy wanted to know if you have plans for tomorrow? Promised to come back to Sunnydale an’ visit you, and Remy would prefer to see your face at de airport instead of having to fight for a taxi.”

Willow could feel herself smiling as he spoke, each accented word soothing her frazzled temper. “Remy… What time tomorrow does your flight arrive? I need to do a little studying for one of my classes, but other than that, tomorrow’s open.”

“Flight’s supposed to be landin’ at two, if dere are no delays, but Remy don’ count on no delays when making travel plans. Maybe Remy talk you into giving over your afternoon?”

“I can do that. If I arrive a bit early, I can study while I wait for your plane to come in, and…. Did you have arrangements for somewhere to stay?” Willow found herself looking forward to seeing Remy again, and not just because he was an attractive man. When he’d been in town before, he’d listened to her when she wanted to talk, and he’d never once blown off plans with her in favor of a date, like Buffy kept doing, or told her that he expected better of her, like her parents tended to do...

“Remy be on Flight one-fifty seven, scheduled arrival time two in de afternoon. Sunnydale Airport’s not big enough to worry about which gate, only about if dey lost de luggage.”

“Not a problem,” Willow glanced around the room, and started throwing together a few things to take with her to her parents’ house. Considering the mood she’d been in, she didn’t much feel like seeing Buffy any more than necessary. All of her textbooks and notes for her classes, a few of her clothes, though by no means all of them, a jacket, and her new laptop. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Remy looking forward to dat.”

After the conversation with Remy, Willow finished packing up those few things, and shook her head. Things would get better soon, wouldn’t they? Willow took the long route to Giles’ apartment, swinging by the Rosenberg house to drop things off, take in the mail, and double check that all the windows were locked. She left a light on in the kitchen, planning to sleep there instead of at the dorm. Her textbooks were on the kitchen table, and she’d left the laptop in her bedroom.

No sooner had she arrived then she found herself waved towards the computer. Apparently, Riley and Buffy were on a patrol that was supposed to include the museum, in case whoever was responsible had been searching for something and intended to continue their efforts. Xander handed her a scrap of paper detailing the stolen items – several necklaces, a talisman, two decorated leather pouches, and a ceremonial spear – from the Chumash exhibit at the local museum. Giles, Anya and Amy were in a huddle around the coffee table, with a collection of old books, murmuring in low voices. Willow only caught a few words – fetish, shaman, and invocation. Considering that this was the hellmouth, Willow doubted that it had anything to do with kinky personal lives, even if one of the people discussing was Anya, and she also doubted that this was a good idea.

It didn’t take long for her to determine that the museum website wouldn’t be helpful, and slightly longer to determine that there was no way to get into more informative files unless you were actually in the museum on the museum’s network. Determined to get something, she brought up the Sunnydale Historical Society’s webpage, which had sections for earlier history of the area that was now Sunnydale. There was information about the Spanish missionaries and settlers, which she knew included a few things about seeking gold and mentioned that the Spanish had called the area “la Boca del Infierno”. There was also a section about the Indian tribes what had lived in the area, including the Chumash.

They’d been wiped out by early European colonists. It had been a combination of foreign diseases and settlers with guns deciding that the natives had the best plots of land, and they were just going to take the land by force. One detail caught her attention – how the last shaman was supposed to have placed a curse on the area. It didn’t mention what the curse was supposed to do, but the words made Willow rather cautious.

“Giles? Do your books say anything about how to determine if there’s a curse on an area of land? Maybe Anya has an idea for figuring out that sort of thing. Or…” Willow paused, an awful idea coming to her. “Do we know when the Hellmouth formed in Sunnydale?”

Nobody answered her. With a huff, Willow copied the information from the historical society into a file, and saved it on the computer’s desktop. She also saved the map that showed all the reported sites where Chumash artifacts had been found, and some of the places where Chumash had lived. She also brought up the geological surveys of Sunnydale, the ones to establish caves and fault lines, the ones to indicate potential coal or natural gas, and the one that showed the water table and known waterways and springs. She also emailed copies of all these to herself so she could continue elsewhere, if necessary.

“Right, since this is such a good way to spend my Tuesday, and everybody’s been so helpful with figuring out what we need to know, I’ll just be on my way out. I do have exams coming up,” Willow closed her browser windows, and left the computer on, knowing that Anya could use it, and hoping that Amy still remembered after her time as a rat. She stepped around the furniture and the couple stacks of books that had made their way out during a few research sessions and over to the door. She hesitated, glancing back at them, wondering if anyone would question her leaving. She didn’t know if she wanted them to wave her off with a suggestion of studying or to ask her to stay and research more.

Nobody said anything either way.

That night, Willow dreamed that she was turning as invisible as Marcie Ross, except that frogs could still see her. Evil, predatory frogs, the little rainbow hued poison dart frogs, giant frogs, and the reanimated formaldehyde frogs from last night, with their creepy clouded over dead eyes. Nobody noticed as she ran through buildings, screaming as the slimy frogs chased her, hopping and croaking through one of Professor Walsh’s lectures. She ran through a wedding, held at night in a cemetery, only belatedly noticing as she ducked past the bridesmaids in their mauve gowns that everyone in the wedding party were vampires, complete with ridges, yellow eyes and fangs, with a vampire in clerical robes holding the Anarchist’s Cookbook instead of a Bible. The frogs followed her, except for a few that hopped into the vampire bridesmaids’ bouquets.

Willow was at the airport by noon, the car parked in the lot and her cell phone muted. She found a seat near the boarding gate, and settled into the faded orange plastic chair to wait for Remy. The bright sunshine coming through the large windows and the absence of any small animals, especially slimy, noisy frogs, helped soothe her nerves. The airport wasn’t that busy, so she could glance out the window periodically while reviewing chapters nine through fifteen.

The phone flashed a little bell icon, indicating a call. Seeing that it was Buffy, Willow let it go to voicemail. Only after she was sure that Buffy was no longer on the phone did she listen to the message. ‘Willow, where are you? You missed lunch at the Square, and when I got to Giles’ place, still no Willow! We’ve got something really weird going on and you need to look up some stuff. Where are you?’

Willow snorted and closed the phone. Buffy’s call had irritated her all over again. “Sure, now you want to know where I am. Look up your own stuff. Or maybe Riley can look it up for you.”

At one thirty, the bell icon blinked again, showing a call from Anya. Willow let that go to voice mail too, promising herself that if it was important, she could apologize for not picking up. Maybe voicemail would keep Anya from digressing into discussions of money or sex. After a couple minutes, she checked that message. ‘Willow, Xander’s on the couch with a fever. They found something at the construction site, and everybody got sent home. We met here, and he started going pale and sweaty. Giles is fairly certain that something at the site is responsible; Amy and I think it’s a curse. It feels a lot like unfocused vengeance to me. There’s not much you can do, though if you could figure out of the other construction guys are down with this too it would help. I’ll call back if there’s anything else you can do.’

“Ohhhh, I hope they figure out what’s going on,” Willow murmured. Even if they hadn’t been talking as much lately, even if he’d been very, very busy with Anya, Xander was still her friend since kindergarten. She didn’t want anything awful to happen to him. If she had her laptop, she’d be trying to get the names of the other members of the construction crew that Xander was part of, but with only her cell phone, there wasn’t much she could do.

Remy’s flight arrived at ten minutes after two. She stood up when she caught sight of him in the knot of people streaming in from the plane, and gave a small wave. He made his way towards her with a tired smile and a duffel slung over his shoulder, “Good to see you. Also very good to be on ground dat’s not wobbling side to side.”

“This is California, give it some time,” Willow teased. “Do you have any luggage to collect, or just your carry on?”

“Remy only brought one suitcase, any more an’ de airport wanted more money,” Remy grumbled, looking half offended.

Willow just shook her head, and they went to hunt down Remy’s suitcase. It was the same battered brown leather as his trench coat, and didn’t look quite like anybody else’s luggage at all. Suitcase collected, they made their way to the car, and Willow smothered giggles at his murmured litany of airport complaints.

“Remy’s got a reservation at de Oceanview Hotel. Planning to stay for a while, maybe see if I can talk you into making a longer visit to N’Awlins next month,” he leaned back in the seat of the car, a low groan emerging as his shoulder made a grinding crackly noise. “De seats on de plane were awful.”

“I’m sorry your trip out here was so unpleasant. Maybe things will be a bit better now that you’re here? …. And I can’t believe I just suggested that the hellmouth would be an improvement on anything… just ignore me, it’s been a frustrating week. There’s been midterms, and all the people who were too cool or too busy to pay attention are suddenly looking for study-buddies, except that what they really want is someone to just pour the knowledge right into their brain, and you can’t do that… not without some awful side effects, like dead bodies and a high chance of tumors, or scales, or your brain turning to goo and dribbling out your ears…” Willow sighed and glanced at Remy, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to babble at you.”

“Huh, Remy didn’ even know dat was possible,” he shook his head, and took the sunglasses off long enough to rub his eyes. “Maybe Remy should have got more sleep las’ night instead of harrasin’ Henri about his girlfriend.”

“Yeah, sleep is normally of the good, especially when you aren’t plagued by dreams of reanimated frogs dripping formaldehyde chasing you through vampire weddings.”

“Reanimated frogs? You live here, and the t’ing ending up chasing you t’rough your dreams be reanimated frogs?” Remy started to laugh.

By the time Willow had arrived at the Oceanview Hotel, Remy had talked her into coming up to his room for some coffee. He chatted about some of the places that she should see when she visited New Orleans next month, and flirted shamelessly, grinning each time he made her blush. He’d also managed to talk her into the pair of them having dinner tomorrow at the Rosenberg house.

By the time Willow left, her phone was blinking to signal that she had another voice mail. Listening, she heard Anya’s voice again. ‘Willow, we managed to find out that a couple of the other constructions guys were affected. Some sort of Chumash Vengeance spell gave Xander syphilis, smallpox, measles and a strain of the flu… really effective work, I have to say. Amy and Giles found a way to counter it, and Amy and I cast the spell. Xander’s back to normal, the other guys probably are too…’ there was some sort of noise in the background, Willow was almost certain that she could hear a man saying ‘bloody arses’. Something crashed, and Anya’s voice continued, ‘oh, and we have a defenseless mascot now. I’m sure Buffy will tell you all about it later.’

“huh. What was all that about?” Willow blinked, and shrugged. She’d probably find out soon enough. After all, if there was anything important, Buffy’d pass it on, even if she had to call, right?

End Small Favor 10: Digging in the Past