Flies to Honey: Part Eleven
by J Jericho Born
"So this is the place?" said Cordelia rhetorically, standing before an extremely run down building that dwawfed her in size. It seemed to come straight out of the Depression, complete with peeling paint and roofs decorated with gaping holes. Aparently, the locals had used it as an impromptu dumping grounds; trash in various forms littered its sides, providing visual breaks amongst the weeds that ringed the warehouse obstrusively.

The abandoned decor of the warehouse blended right in with the unkept neighborhood, which's reason for being had long since forgotten. If any building in the area had seen use in the past twenty years there was no noticible signs of it. Indeed the warehouse was right a home, its foreboding nature augmented by the still darkness of the lonely Weberton night.

"What's up with the soup bowl, Will?" asked Xander curiously. Willow carefully held a small, rough stone bowl between her hands. In it was a clump of hair suspended in a clear, if pungent, liquid.

"This is a little something I enchanted the other night. It'll help us find Oz. The clump of Oz's hair will be pulled in the direction that he is in, we can use it like a compass to find him," explained Willow, shifting her feet discretely, half out of anticipation and half out of frustration.

"Oh, cool. Wait a minute, where'd you get a clump of Oz's hair?" questioned Xander.

Willow shrugged off the question as she examined her apparatus in disappointment.

"Darnit, it's not working!" she exclaimed, frustrated.

"Maybe he's out of range," offered Buffy.

"No, the lady at the shop said it has a range of over a mile. I probably screwed up the incantation," said Willow bitterly.

"Willow, don't beat yourself up," Xander comforted warmly.

Giles added himself to the group, hauling a burden of a half dozen chains and restraints.

"I'm very glad that Eddie fellow didn't have occasion to see these. I don't think I could have tolerated the cracks he would have made," commented Giles.

"Well, Buffy, since you're everyone's favorite ass kicker, you get to take the point," wittingly said Xander.

Buffy abliged dutifly, walking toward the spooky building with the greatest of ease in her step. She hadn't realized exactly how jaded with abandoned buildings she had become. It felt as though she were right at home in the creepy backdrop that her latest adventure had visited upon her. The behemoth door was no match for the uncommon strength of the Slayer, she easily brought it of its rusted hinges and tossed it to the side.

"Flashlight," requested Buffy as she peered into the expansive darkness, reaching out her hand back casually.

"Uhhhh," garbled Giles as he searched his pockets.

"Don't tell me with all that junk we brought no one bothered to bring a flashlight," said Cordelia disapprovingly.

"I could go back to the van and get some sulfur to try to cast an illumination spell," offered Willow in a nervous attempt to mitigate the group's shortsightness. Buffy had noticed her friend had been quick to offer to cast spells like they were going out of season. She decided on making a mental note to mention it later.

"How long will that take?" inquired Buffy.

"I don't know exactly," replied Willow timidly, avoiding the other's eyes.

"Have you ever even tried such an incantation?" asked Giles.

"Well, no, but I've always wanted to," Willow answered with a sheepish expression, gripping her bowl insecurely as if hanging on for dear life.

"Great, we're looking like such losers right now," commented Cordelia.

"Oh, wait, here we go," Xander said as he produced a key chain from his pocket.

"Xander, the keys to your hope chest won't help us here," said Cordelia sarcastically.

"No, look," replied Xander as picked out a small red cylinder among the assortment of keys and held it between his thumb and index finger. Out of what seemed to be a pinhole came the most insignifigant, pitiful light that all those present had ever laid their eyes on. A wide, if sheepish, grin graced Xander's face while he glanced at the surrounding onlookers expectantly. No one said a word, however.

"Stylin' huh?" questioned Xander through his smile. Not a reply was given, all merely stared on in disbelief.

The assembled souls that had collectively slayed vampires, vanquished demons, kept the undead in check, and fought an assortment of insect like creatures now found themselves huddled around an underpowered pen light that threatend to exhaust its battery at any moment. The mass of humanity led by an undaunted Slayer made its way through the spacious warehouse, attempting to find their way through the dark and avoid obtructing clutter.

"Wait," warned Buffy a few moments before halting in her tracks. Regardless of her warning, the assembly of wary Slayerettes soon found themselves walking into each other's backs.

"What's the hold up?" asked Giles with a whisper.

"It's the wall," answered Buffy.

"Already?" idly asked Xander.

"There's a light switch over there," declared Giles. He gave the switch a good flick and much to his surprise a few dusty old lightbulbs hummed to life, causing a rather comprehensive representation of the rodent family to scurry away for cover.

The interior of the warehouse lived up to the expectations cast by its exterior. The dirty, yellow tungsten lights caused the entire scene to be made of various shades of brown. A square, hollow box of rotting wood with a few windows was all the warehouse amounted to. The contents were just as plain, a upturned broken crate here, an old magazine there, the inside of the building was the spitting image of inconspicous. A worn out odor cast the scene in an overall pitiful mood.

"Well, let's see. One watcher, check. One Slayer, check. Her cold and tired friends, check. One werewolf, nope. On to the next building," said Xander wryly.

"Why would an abandoned building be serviced with electricity?" wondered Giles aloud.

"If it makes you feel better you can call the electric company and let them know they are wasting all of 40 watts. Come on, we have a werewolf to find," Xander said hurriedly, turning to leave.

"No, wait. Is it just me or is the inside of the building a lot smaller than outside?" inquired Willow.

"You're right," agreed Buffy, "You think this place has a houdini room?"

"Yeah, and I think we're in it," answered Willow.

Cordelia a strangled cry, the wall she was casually leaning up against had collaspsed away. Buffy and Willow exchanged looks before running over to survey what was beyond the newly found entryway.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking-" facetiously began Cordelia, gazing through the opening she had just created she blurted out, "Whoa, look at that!"


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