Mary, Mary

"So, what do you think?"

Wesley looked up at Gunn, who was hovering. If asked, no doubt he would say he was helping. But Wesley had had assistance for months from Cordelia, and could tell the difference between help and hovering. Gunn was hovering. He'd been hovering since they'd identified the demonic horde they had to dispel and just who it was they'd have to let do it.

"I think it can be done," Wesley began, intending to explain how he could use a rather more simple spell, instead of the complex one which might endanger the soul of the one casting it. Unfortunately he got no farther than that, when he realized he'd chosen his words poorly.

"You think? You think? Nah, no man, you ain't doin' it. No. We hire somebody else. You ain't doing no 'think you can'."

Wesley gave Gunn a stern look until he quieted and even had the grace to look a tad sheepish for his outburst. "Are you through?" Wesley asked him.

"Maybe. You still doing this 'think you can' spell?' The one all those books say tend to turn the spellcaster into a frito?"

"The word was 'froydo' and it means the caster's skin will become rather crispy, and their muscles contract, making them curl up a...yes, actually, into a frito. But I am not using that spell," he said hastily. One could only push Charles so far before he turned caveman and hauled Wesley out of his chair and off someplace safe. Someplace safe with a locking door. "I've found another one, which is much safer, and has a much better chance of actually being successful."

Gunn gave him a look. It was the one that said he really wanted to focus on the 'actually being successful' part, but also didn't really want to know just how slim a chance the other had had. "How much better?" he asked, instead.

"Well, quite good, really." Wesley leaned forward to pull one of the other books towards him, scanning for the relevant passage. "As it says here, if you can utilize a few unique elements into the spell, including this particular sequence of sounds, and this--"

"Wes, Wes!" Gunn pulled the book partially away. When Wesley looked up, though, Gunn was smiling at him. "OK, I believe you. Don't make me learn something that's gonna make my head hurt more."

"Your head hurts?" Wesley set his book aside, and started to stand up. The fight earlier hadn't been bad, since they'd only stayed long enough to see how many demons were pouring through the cracks in the wall, before turning tail and running. They'd both been struck, but not injured. At least Gunn had said he wasn't.

"I meant by making me learn about magic. I'm fine, didn't even get hit on the head this time."

Frowning, Wesley stepped closer, anyhow. "If you're sure." He looked more closely at Charles' head, as if he might see a bruise or line of dried blood there. Gunn ducked his head, helpfully. Wesley smiled and inspected the pro-offered skull, running his fingers through the short, curly hair. After a moment, he said, "You seem all right. Healthy enough to fetch me some things I'll need for the spell."

There wasn't much time to delay. The temporary measures they'd been able to take to prevent the demons from advancing from the tenement basement they were currently trapped in, wouldn't hold for long. Wesley hoped they had enough time to get everything ready...if this spell didn't work, he honestly didn't know what he'd do.

Even if Gunn let him live it down.


They were waiting for him. Wesley had had to send his friends ahead, to begin lying the lines for the spell, casting a few minor wards which required no real skill, only enthusiasm. Seeing a thousand demonic faces staring at you from behind plaster was enough to encourage enthusiasm in anyone, he was certain.

Wesley carried the last of the things he needed on his shoulder, entering the basement with quick strides, not looking around as he felt more than saw that the spell's preparations were in order. He set the player down and hit the power button, then took up a stance. As the recording of the Hail Mary began, he cast the first of his spell.

When the guitars began, he spread his hands and cast the rest.


It was after, when they'd cleaned up the last of the burnt plaster and demon blood, that anyone had a chance to ask. Wesley had been enjoying the expressions on his friends' faces, but hadn't yet figured out what to say in reply to the question he'd been waiting for since he'd stepped into the basement, dressed his in leathers and carrying the large ghetto blaster.

Cordelia was the one who finally asked. "Wes? How did you know about that song?"

"The books were quite specific, actually, about the nature of the sound vibrations required--"

"No," she shook her head. "Not 'why that song'. How did you know about that song?"

"Because the group is British?" he ventured.

She shook her head.

"Gunn played it for me once?" he tried again.

"Bunh!" she made a sound like a game buzzer. "Try again."

He tried ignoring her, while he packed away the surviving components of the spell. When she just followed him, arms folded and foot tapping whenever she stood still, he said, "I secretly enjoy that type of music?"

"Ha! No, Wesley, really. How'd you know about that song?"

He sighed. "Fine. I only heard it because I was digging around on the internet for something, and stumbled across their site. Was about to stumble right out of it when Angel walked up behind me." He stopped. Not because he wasn't sure what mentioning Angel's name would do...although he wasn't.

Cordelia just shrugged. "And?"

"And did you know his eyes go round in little circles whenever he tries to say their band name? I ended up buying every album they ever cut."