Notes and Disclaimer: Thanks to Rhi, for thinking of this one, and to Nevada, who read her vorpal plot bunny to me, then beta read the story when I was done. The sandbox is large, wide, and full of pretty toys belonging to Mutant Enemy and to Alliance Atlantis; I cannot resist the lure, but I shall always put back what I borrow.

Victoria's Wish

by Raine Wynd

Victoria Metcalf surveyed the Magic Shop critically. It looked entirely too New Age-y for her taste, but she'd been told this was where to go if she needed the kind of help she was seeking. Something — she wasn't sure what it was — was making her feel far too uncomfortable for her own taste. It was just a store, damn it. What could possibly harm her in there? She grasped her bag firmly, stroked the handle of her gun, told herself that she'd seen far worse in prison and in the years she'd been on the run, and entered the store.

The door jingled, announcing her entrance, and she grimaced, hating that. She preferred to move silently, to be in the shadows. A slender redhead sat on a stool reading what appeared to be a rather large, reference-sized book; the book floated at the proper reading angle. At the sound of the bell, she turned to face Victoria.

"Hi," she said brightly. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Anyanka. I was told to find her here."

The young woman's eyes narrowed for a moment, and she hesitated. Instinctively, Victoria slipped her hand more firmly around the gun she had in the holster on her left hip, concealed under a loose blouse.

"Oh, firing that weapon's not going to do you any good in the shop," the woman told Victoria. "There's an anti-weapons spell at work." She shrugged. "But if it makes you feel better, you can try it. However, doing so won't make me find Anya any faster for you."

Victoria didn't believe in much that she couldn't touch, see, feel, or own. She thought the book was being cleverly suspended with fishing line, but didn't dare say so. There was something she couldn't define about this place, something that made her want to run as far as she could. Still, she could see that the other woman believed in what she said. The gun, though, seemed stuck in the holster, and Victoria gave up trying to pull it out.

A small, satisfied smile appeared on the other woman's face. "I'll be right back. Feel free to look around, but don't touch anything you aren't sure of."

"Or what?" Victoria sneered.

The woman didn't answer, having disappeared through a doorway. The book remained suspended where it was, but Victoria couldn't figure out how it was suspended, and something stopped her when she tried to push open the swinging half-door blocking the path to the register. Giving up for the moment, Victoria moved elsewhere in the shop. She was admiring a rather mummified hand and was just about to touch it when a new, slightly perkier female voice stopped her.

"Unless you want to have your hand crushed by a reanimated mummy's hand, I wouldn't."

Victoria turned. "Are you Anyanka?" The girl looked barely eighteen, and far too normal to be anything powerful enough to help her.

"Yes. Well. I used to be. I'm Anya Jenkins now. Why?"

"You grant wishes."

"That's the whole used to be part. You see, I used to be Anyanka, vengeance demon, and now I'm not. I'm just a simple, ordinary, boring human girl who owns and runs this magic shop." A trace of resignation laced Anya's voice. "If you're looking for a vengeance demon, all you gotta do is—" Anya abruptly turned and glared at the other woman in the room. "Get out of my head, Willow, that's so unnerving when you do that!"

"What are you saying?" Victoria wanted to be gone, wanted this deed over with. Impatience simmered through her; she'd traveled far, paid too much, to be stopped now.

"She's not who you're looking for," Willow stated coldly.

"And who are you to tell me that?"

"My friend," Anya answered for Willow. "Although, sometimes I wonder. I mean, there's that whole bit with Xander and history and—"

"I love you too, Anya. Just not that way." Amusement laced Willow's tone. "How long ago did someone tell you that Anyanka would grant you what you wished?"

"Couple of months, not more than six."

"And where did you hear it?" This was from Anya.

"Chicago."

"I haven't been to Chicago in years. Was it during Prohibition or something? Some woman wanted to live forever without her husband." Anya chuckled. "She forgot to add that she still wanted to look beautiful, be young, and rich. Last I saw her, she was begging on a park bench. Everyone thought she was crazy. Crazy Rose, that's her name."

Victoria's eyes narrowed, hating what she'd heard. To think that she'd given that crazy old woman money because she thought she had an answer to Victoria's problems! Without another word, she turned and stalked out of the shop, door bell jangling as she exited.

Willow watched her go. "She's not a happy woman."

"No," Anya agreed, sighing wistfully. "She'd have made a lovely wish, though, I'm sure of it."