stilljustandrew | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's been dark for hours when they get to the empty warehouse. Andrew's visibly on edge, looking into the shadows and trying to stare in all directions at once, until Jonathan finds the unbolted door that let him out the first time and lets them both in now.

"We're gonna need some light," he says in an undertone as Jonathan closes the door behind them.

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Jonathan steps forward, reaches in his pocket for his lighter, then grimaces slightly as he realises they must have taken it away.

A match from Andrew's box does the job, instead.

Andrew nods, pulls a folded paper out of his pocket and studies the handwritten words on it. "Okay," he says, low. "Be ready --"

He sprinkles a few shreds of the last herb onto the smoldering contents of the bowl, and draws a breath.

"O Ciatheklar, avenger of the slain, I beseech thee --"

Jonathan stands ready, waiting for Andrew to finish the incantation. He doesn't know where in the warehouse she'll appear, so he's trying to keep an eye on as much of it as possible.

"-- by the blood of the beloved that cries from the earth --"

Another pinch of crumbled herb, sharp and pungent, making him want to sneeze.

"-- come before me."

Jonathan looks around expectantly.

"Wow," says a voice from the far end of the room, drawing out the syllable in amused contempt. "You're using that incantation, Wells? You?"

Cia -- Ciatheklar -- steps into the glow of light from Jonathan's spell, hands resting on her hips.

"Because I told him to," Jonathan says instantly, snapping towards her. "Hello, Cia. Remember me?"

"Course I do," she says with a glower. "You really screwed up everything, didn't you. How do you like it?"

"Hey, you came to me," he says, glowering back. "I never summoned you. I never wanted vengeance on anyone."

"I know!" She throws her hands up, with a scornful glance at Andrew. "Not even on this tool, and god knows that should've tipped me off. But seriously, that's your idea of a vengeful wish? 'I wish the Slayers were in charge, see how they like it'? You're hopeless."

"So what were you hoping for, exactly?" Jonathan demands. "You wanted me to go for something bigger against them? Or... wait, you named Jordie, before. Against her?"

"You're as bad as she is," Cia says sullenly. "I thought she had such great potential after she masterminded that strike two years ago, and then I couldn't get her to even make a wish. Not even after I got her talking about the murderer! I mean, come on!"

"Wait," says Andrew, eyes widening. "Wait, hold on a microt. You were trying to get him ... to make a wish against her ..." Pointing from her to Jonathan, and then in the vague direction of Elsewhere. "... because you couldn't get her to make a wish?"

Jonathan stares at her, eyes narrowing.

"You tried to use me against one of my own girls because she wouldn't play your game? Also, I know your kind have rules."

"Ooh," she says sardonically, "my kind. Nice, Levinson."

"Justice demons," Andrew puts in, his voice hard. "You do have rules, though, isn't that right?"

"No making wishes for yourself," Jonathan backs him up. "And, I'm willing to bet, no tricking someone into making a wish for your benefit."

"What?" Cia says indignantly. "It was so not for my benefit! She deserved it."

"Because she wouldn't make a wish," he says flatly. "And you wanted to punish her. That's gotta be breaking a rule somewhere."

She makes a scoffing sound, and starts to advance slowly. "Whatever. Is that what you called me here for?"

"No," he says almost cheerfully. "We called you here because you're going to reverse what you did."

"Oh yeah?" she says brightly, and keeps moving toward him. "You think?"

"I think you shouldn't underestimate us," is the calm response. "Either of us."

"Uh, and possibly more importantly," Andrew puts in, "I think D'Hoffryn might not share your, um, cavalier attitude about the rules."

She stops, and stares at him.

"You're bluffing."