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Lance decides to seek Lilith, since clearly something's up with the forces of Hell. Naturally, he turns to a friend and fellow demon, Anyanka.
January 22, 2018
Magic Box, Beacon Hills
"Hopefully, Giles won't mind."
"Giles has trusted me with the shop and, more importantly, the cash register." Anya's smile is wide and unabashedly pure. "And the money," she adds, in a quieter tone.
A slow nod is Lance's first response, and it becomes a more casual, lighter one as he tries his best to be encouraging. The place is something of a contradiction, as pleasant as its associated memories are, but at least its magical paraphernalia provides a certain modicum of Old World charm. That one of his kin occupies the position of de facto proprietor doesn't hurt.
He leans on his arms, folded atop the checkout counter. "So, let's just go over it one last time...just to be sure."
"I have it written down in my ledger," Anya answers, lifting the leatherbound book with the pen hooked onto its cover. She snaps the pen up into her fingers and whisks through the pages of mainly numbers and scrawled notes, before coming to a page blank except for neat, ordered paragraphs and a few bullet points. "It is very important, obviously, or I wouldn't have written it in the ledger." She pauses for a moment, but not long enough for him to actually answer or add to her statement. "Because I only write important things in the ledger. Like numbers." Her eyes go to the page, and she flips it to the next before looking back up again. "Of money."
"Yes, uh, but we should go over it--"
Anya clears her throat and lifts her chin. "The expedition to find the Mother of Demons, Lilith. Because Azazel is being a..." Her eyes narrow, and she tilts her head to one side, then to the other, then shrugs and continues on, "let's just say a farty poophead because I don't remember what that word was before."
Lance nods once, then again, his eyes wandering over the items in the glass display below. "Azazel's up to something, Beelzebub has been remarkably quiet, and we need to get an idea of what Lilith's up to. I'll ride and hook up with Abaddon, that way we'll have a better chance in case anything really bad's gone down." In a graceful arc, he straightens upright and rests a hand on his hip. "That whole business at the Gate gives me a bad feeling."
"And you will be checking in regularly," Anya continues, with an affirmative nod. "If a period of three days goes by without contact, or if things get really bad here, I am to give this sealed envelope to Stiles and provide assistance to the...group."
"Pack." Lance grins to her. "But that's basically it. If it gets too bad and you don't think you can get it to Stiles, just open the envelope yourself."
She snaps the ledger shut again and sets it down on the counter. "Understood! I anticipate no difficulty. The only thing likely to upset the routine is tomorrow's experimental full-contact bingo night."
As he takes a step to turn back to the door, that makes him pause. His brows lower, and confusion crosses his features. But he shakes his head, forcing a smile back to his face. He shouldn't ask. It's better that way.
"Take care, Anyanka."
"Give Lilith my regards!" Anya answers, raising her hand to wave as he departs. "Though," she adds, glancing around, "I feel sure she will find completely inconsequential the regards of Anya Jenkins, regular human woman!"
The bell jingles as the door softly shuts behind Lance.
Demogorgon.
And the sound of a rumbling bike engine rips through the quiet, before it roars off into the night.