Ship of Fools

The good thing about being away from home was expenses, the good thing about expenses was that you could afford expensive hotels and the good thing about expensive hotels was gourmet food. Kate put her cutlery together and resisted the urge to belch. Instead she took another sip of the wine – she wasn’t by any means an expert, but even to her palette a 1969 German White was infinitely superior to the cheap $5 dollar bottles of Californian you could pick up in the supermarket.

Across from her Anyanka played with her food, despite all the patterns she played with it and wherever she pushed it, nothing could disguise the fact that the majority of it remained uneaten.

Kate frowned. It couldn’t be the case, they’d been working on it less than a day, too early too mope about it being unsolvable. And anyway it didn’t look like it would be too difficult, a CCTV camera was opposite the only entrance to the crime scene. The footage would be with them tomorrow and then they’d identify the culprits.

No, it had to be something else and being the good detective that she was Kate realised the easiest way to find out an answer to a question was to ask it, “What’s wrong?”

Anyanka looked up as if stung, “What? Nothing – I’m fine,” she gave a smile which didn’t reach to her eyes and was just teeth flashingly intense to be real.

“You’ve been sitting there like someone stole your best shoes all evening,” replied Kate.

Anyanka sighed and put down her knife and fork, she wasn’t going to eat anymore, “It’s… it’s… Fuck it Kate,” she frowned and for the first time since she’d known Anyanka the detective thought she looked human – which she was on the outside at least.

As if sorry for her outburst, Anyanka blushed, she didn’t say anything more for a moment, but Kate’s instinct suggested she hadn’t finished talking. She was right as after a short break Anyanka continued, “I was human once you know. I came to a fork in the road and went down one way. If I’d taken another…” she shrugged, “but I’m a demon now, or a non-human sentient if you prefer,” Anyanka laughed, but it was devoid of all humour, “It was easy then. None of this politics – if I wanted something I could take it, if someone was wronged I’d right it, or not depending on how I felt. Oh, there were Slayers, but they were a minor hindrance. And now and then a Hellmouth would open or we’d get a caller from another dimension. But it was simple, this was an out of the way dimension, no one cared about it…
“Now, we’ve won. Oh we play games and say that we’re all equal partners. But you know we’re not… humans you’re not in charge, not even on our own planet. And you know what I hate, what I really, really hate. It isn’t that this is a fucked up world, it isn’t that there’s no fun kicking a person when they’re down; damn – it’s not even that I’ve become part of some system. What I hate is that I’m dancing to some puppet master, and I don’t know who or why. And I damn well don’t know what the fuck I can do about it.”

She lapsed into silence, as Kate looked on, her face glowing red with embarrassment. It was all true what Anyanka had said, made all the truer by the knowledge that demons didn’t spout off their frustrations in front of humans, the lesser beings, “Want a drink?” Kate didn’t wait for an answer, but instead filled Anyanka’s glass.

“Yes – let’s get absolutely hammered,” Anyanka gulped down the expensive 1978 German White as if was water.

About three hours later they staggered back to the hotel, god knows how many bars they’d hit. Lots, some expensive demon watering holes and some grubby human slums. And as the night had worn on Anyanka had become more attractive, the sober part of Kate’s brain told her this was what alcohol did. Unfortunately or not, that wasn’t the bit that was controlling her mouth.

“Damn it, Anyanka, stop casting a spell to make yourself look more sexy,” Kate leant against the door and fiddled with her key.

There was a giggle from Anyanka and she gave a spin, “I’m not. It’s my natural… okay semi-natural, look.”

“You look better out of the office,” said Kate.

“You’d look better out of your clothes,” replied Anyanka. She lunged at Kate, just as the detective opened the door. They fell inside in a tumble and staggered to the floor in a heap.

Kate lay on her back, above her Anyanka was perched, her hands either side of Kate, a tit popped out of her dress. It was so unprofessional, thought Kate, she ought to straighten her hair and firmly, but politely, direct Anyanka back to the demon’s own room. But then again she did look damned hot. Further deliberations were cut short as Anyanka leant down, her mouth opening over Kate’s. Any chance of disentanglement disappeared as the demon’s lithe tongue slid into her mouth. Kate pressed back, trying to force herself into a sitting position. She failed, Anyanka might not have looked muscular, but she was stronger than she looked and she pushed Kate down onto the floor. Kate didn’t resist as the demon undid the buttons of her blouse and pushed her hand in and under the bra.

Instead she broke the kiss and just moaned as Anyanka's fingers tweaked at her teat. The demon’s mouth seemed to have an insatiable desire to lock on to something now that Kate’s mouth was unavailable. Kate gave another gasp as Anyanka’s teeth lightly bit down on her other nipple. She moved her hands and brushed them through her boss’s hair.

“Oh that’s good,” she moaned. Anyanka hand moved from Kate’s tit and the Detective could feel her fiddling with her jean button, until it popped open. The demon’s hand moved inside and rubbed at the material of her panties. Kate arched her back, she could feel herself getting wet, the dampness staining her panties until they were see through. Anya rubbed harder, her hand gliding over the soaked panties and pushing them against Kate’s cunt lips, “That is so good,” whispered Kate.

“So it should be,” said Anyanka. She moved her mouth away from the Detective’s tits and sat up. Kate watched as the demon pulled her dress over her head, revealing a body that was all too human in its sexiness. The demon slid off Kate and stood up, “I’ve been doing this for twelve hundred years.”

“Oh you sweet talking romantic,” Kate giggled. Anything else she was going to say was stop by Anya lowered her naked cunt onto Kate’s face. The detective’s tongue shot up, pleased that even without touching the demon, she had already made her damp. Anyanka’s cum was sweet, as it dripped from her slot into Kate’s mouth. Kate’s tongue lapped at the lips, feeling them quiver beneath her touch. She could feel Anyanka leaning over, sliding down her own jeans and panties. The demon didn’t waste any time with pleasantries, just slamming her tongue deep into Kate. Kate reciprocated, running her tongue around as she explored the moist hole, looking for the hard flesh of the clit. Anyanka found hers momentarily before she found the demon’s.

They lay locked in others legs, licking away as if there would be no tomorrow. Girl cum covered them both, dripping from their cunts and faces, spilling onto the floor to leave the carpet damp with their lust. There only breaks were when one of them temporarily pulled their face away to shriek with delight. Kate wasn’t sure how often they orgasmed, but it was plenty. She only stopped because her tongue was almost numb and her body was wracked with so many orgasms that her muscles were about to give up.

Anyanka stood up and retrieved her dress.

“You could stay; if you want?”

For a second Anyanka hesitated, “No, I better go to my room. I’ll see you ate eight for breakfast.”

She didn’t bother putting on the dress before walking out into the hallway, Kate hoped there were no late night patrons about as she felt an irrational jealousy about any of them seeing Anyanka in the buff. She shook her head, alcohol had fuddled her wits; it was a one-off, her and Anyanka, demon and human, it would never have worked.

*

“Hello Buffy Summers,” Buffy’s voice sounded sleepy. Fred momentarily glanced at the clock, the Slayer was late getting up on a schoolday.

“Hello Buffy Summers,” the teenager repeated her name down the phone.

“You don’t know me, but don’t go to school today.” Fred put down the phone and headed into the kitchen. Faith was crouched over the stove, “Waffles?”

*

They had come for Willow at lunchtime. One minute she’d been eating her lunch and hoping Buffy wasn’t too sick, the next half a dozen of Sunnydale’s finest had been pinning her to the floor. She now sat scared, wishing she was alone, in a police cell. She had been picked up under the ‘Protection for non-Human’s Act’ a catch-all which pretty much allowed the authorities to do what they pleased and one where legal representation was a favour, not a right. And the tough looking Detective Kate Lockley had made it clear that Willow wasn’t in the market for favours.

“Look sweetie,” Kate was crouched over the table, her face so close to Willow’s the redhead could feel her warm breath playing over her skin, “We see you and Blondie go in. Then you leave. No-one else apart from the two of you until the gardener discovers the bodies the next morning. You trying to tell me that you were out to protect them and they were dead when you found them…”

“It’s the truth,” squeaked Willow, though she was forced to admit that it sounded fantastical.

Kate obviously thought so, as she just grunted and stood back up. Willow watched as the cop paced the interview room, impatience obvious in every step. It was almost a relief to Willow when she turned back to her again, “So let’s get this right. You and the little Slayer decided to go and protect a couple of Gorgorths…”

There was a knock on the door, another woman entered. Kate looked up in a mixture of surprise and annoyance, “Captain?”

Anyanka looked as annoyed as her subordinate, “She’s got a visitor, from the Department.”

“Christ, what do they want?” Kate turned to Willow, “You better talk because if you think we’re bitches, wait until the goons get hold of you – they’ll turn you inside out and feed you to a pack of werewolves.”

With that glad thought she followed Anyanka out the door. Willow waited nervously. The door opened and in stepped Fred, “Willow, you alright?”

“I’m sorry,” Willow felt a tear forming at the edge of her eye. She’d tried to be strong as they interrogated her, but seeing a friendly face just made the fear creeping round her body all the stronger, “They were dead.”

“I know,” said Fred and patted her hand sisterly, “You wouldn’t lie to me.”

“The police don’t believe me,” said Willow, she accepted a tissue that Fred proffered gratefully and wiped her eyes.

“We’ll get you out,” said Fred, “I’ve got friends. But…”

“But what?” asked Willow.

“It’s Buffy,” said Fred, “There’s no way anyone’s going to believe she wasn’t involved.”

“She wasn’t,” cried Willow, it seemed so cruel to offer her a life line and then tell her the rope was cut.

“See the thing is, the powers that be have decided to get Buffy one way or another. If it’s not this they’re going to get her with something else. She’s a dead woman walking,” Fred gave a light shrug, “I wish it was different, but it isn’t.”

“Can’t I do something?” Willow cried, “Can’t you make a deal?

“No,” Fred spoke with a grim finality, “All I can do is help you,” she raised an eyebrow, “If you want to be helped?”

“How?” asked Willow.

Fred leaned back in her chair, “I could tell them you’re working for us, in our magical research department perhaps. I can draw up the papers so it won’t be a lie. You heard Buffy talking about getting some demons, so you tagged along to try and talk her out of it. Okay, it’s a bit naughty and above your pay grade, but our top witches don’t always play by the rules. No-one’s going to blame you for not being able to protect a couple of non-Humans against a woman born to kill.”

“Wouldn’t that mean… it’ll mean that Buffy…” Willow couldn’t bring herself to complete the sentence.

“Yes, it would…” Fred didn’t finish it either. Neither needed to, “It’s your choice. But Buffy’s gone anyway, it’s just a matter of whether you go to the scaffold with her or not.”

Willow gulped, her entire mind was swamped with emotions – she wouldn’t do it, but then if Buffy was doomed anyway… No, it would be wrong to lie about her friend.

Fred pulled out a mobile phone, “I don’t want Buffy dead either. Perhaps if she disappeared for a while we can sort it out and then she can come back. Not all the Department think we’re done with Slayer’s yet.”

“I could ring her and warn her,” Willow jumped, the lifeline had been throw at her again and she clutched at it with the desperation that only a drowning man can manage.

“Yes,” Fred put her mobile on the table, but kept her hand on it, “But I could only allow you a phone call if you were working for the Department. I’m not a witch – I need to follow the rules and they state no lending of phones to non-Departmental employees.”

Willow nodded, “I’ll do it,” she whispered. Fred let go off the phone and Willow grabbed for it gratefully. As she frantically dialled Buffy’s number she knew that all big betrayals start with a small compromise.

*

“What about Dawn?” Joyce fidgeted uncomfortably in her plain slacks and blouse. She had become used to dressing like a slut, to dress as a normal suburban Mom seemed wrong. But Buffy had said inconspicuous and walking around with her tits and ass on view got glances, even in these times.

“I’ve written her a check,” said Buffy. She stood by the front door and looked at the home she knew so well, a home she might never see again. It seemed so unfair, after it all she was going to be arrested for the one demon killing she hadn’t done, “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

“The car? They’ll be looking for it,” Joyce said, she was shaking.

“We’ll dump it out of town. Let’s go Joyce, I haven’t time to spank you into obedience, so just move,” Buffy’s voice was curt.

Joyce wheeled her hastily packed suitcase out the door. Buffy slammed it behind her and fished for the carkeys. From Willow’s phone call she guessed she didn’t have much time.”

*

The phone rang on Darla’s desk, she picked it up, “Hello.”

“Winifred Burkle,” her PA said.

A few seconds later Fred’s Texas twang sounded down the line, “It’s done. Willow’s fingered Buffy for the killings.”

“Good – how long can you keep it quiet?”

There was a pause as Fred thought, “The police will be round shortly, they’ll find Buffy’s gone. It won’t look good that they missed her, I’ll do a deal with them that they don’t prosecute Willow and I’ll keep Buffy fleeing under wraps for twenty four hours.”

“Make it forty eight – then we’ll have to go live. But it should give Buffy enough of a headstart.”

“Okay, you’re the boss,” responded Fred. Darla put down the phone and reached into her drawer. Her fingers felt for the photo-frame, for a second she stroked the silver before taking it out and looking at the pictures. She smiled, her daughter looked so cute, a mop of dark hair framing her face. Slowly she put the photo’s back and covered them with a sheaf of papers. With a sigh she turned to her computer, the e-mails wouldn’t answer themselves.

*

To be continued