Title: Rising From The Flames
Sequel to ‘Ashes To Ashes’ and ‘Into The Fires’ <Final part of this trilogy> – Please note that parts of this may seem confusing if you’ve not read the prequels.
Author: Gillian Silverlight
Distribution: My site, those that already have permission to post my fic, all others please ask. (If you post my fic. Please do not rearrange the sentence groupings. It can alter the flow of the story. Thanks.)
Disclaimer: They belong to Joss and the WB, UPN, FX; just about everybody except me. I just play with them. (Except for the ones I created. They do belong to me...kinda)
Summary: Sequel to ‘Ashes To Ashes’; Giles is back in England as the temporary Head of the Council, this time with Willow there. Quentin is a vampire bent on Buffy’s destruction. Spike has a soul. Angel seeks out the Kalderash vampires for an unknown purpose. Giles was told to seek the Diary of Julius. Will it hold the answers they all need, or more confusion and mayhem?
Rating: R
Lyrics: ‘Need To Destroy’ By Verucka/Shy/THC; ‘In The Air’ By Phil Collins; ’Will You Be There’, ‘In Walks The Night’, ‘Cruel Nights’ By Heart; ‘It’s Over, It’s Under’ By Dollshead; ‘Everything’ By Lifehouse; ‘Here With Me’ By Michelle Branch; ‘Dead Ringer For Love’ By Cher and Meatloaf; ‘Here With Me’ By Dido; ‘Calling All Angels’ By Jane Siberry; ‘Behind Blue Eyes’ By Peter Townsend; ‘I’ll Remember You’ By Sophie Zelmani; ‘I Shall Believe’ By Sheryl Crow;
Author’s Note: This was started immediately after DragonCon – The beginning of September. I’ve had my notes for this section laid out since I started ‘Ashes To Ashes’,
So any parallel occurring in this plot and the current Season Seven of BtVS is strictly accidental. Maybe just two minds seeing similar possibilities.
Dedication: As always, to Patti – my wonderful, VERY appreciated beta. (Who is also a trusted friend) My sister, Dyane Windshadow for remaining my sounding board. My significant other, Bob Hobbs, for allowing me to ‘junk up his computer’ to work on this while mine was at the ‘vet’ being fixed. And last but not least, the very nice people at Compaq Computers who got my computer back up and running while I was being frantic and snarly.
‘I can feel it coming in the air tonight, Hold on
I've been waiting for this moment, all my life, Hold on
The recently turned vampire peered through the grime-coated window into the cellar below. The vampire that had turned him only days before, his sire, strutted back and forth across the debris-strewn floor as he waxed eloquent to his minions of his plans to defeat the Watcher’s Council, then destroy the Slayers.
The fact that the older vampire had previously been a Watcher himself, did give him somewhat of an advantage, but the hidden, watching vampire held even more cards.
Quentin Travers had been the Head of the Watcher’s Council for more than twenty years until he’d been turned during his relentless pursuit to destroy the Slayers, and find one he felt was better suited to the Council’s, or in reality, his own agenda.
Leaning back from the window to rest against the wall, Quentin planned how he’d take over this kiss of vampires, once he’d destroyed his sire. The ex-head Watcher agreed with the idea to destroy the Council, but only after he’d seen the fulfillment of his desire to destroy Buffy Summers…and her little sister too!
Quentin settled in a bit more comfortably as he waited for dawn to creep closer.
~*~
‘I've seen your face before my friend
But I don't know if you know who I am
Well, I was there and I saw what you did
I saw it with my own two eyes’
Rupert Giles drew a deep breath of air as he stepped outside of the Heathrow airport. “D’you smell that? The scent of the fog, the mist? That’s the scent of England. I always forget how much I miss it until I’m back here again.”
“Ah, Giles... I hate to burst your bubble, but it just smells kinda like smog and airplane smells…. Sorry.”
Willow Rosenberg stood beside the older man, her carry-on clutched tightly in her hand. She’d never been to England before and while she really thought she’d enjoy it here and desperately had to have the magickal training that the Watcher could give her, she missed home. She missed her friends, familiar things, smells and sounds, but most of all she missed Tara. She’d give anything to be able to show all of this to Tara.
Except Willow would never show her lover anything ever again.
Tara had been killed by a maniac out to get Buffy. Willow had killed him afterwards when her grief drove her to take on and use tremendous magickal powers that had gotten out of control and almost destroyed all of them. So now she stood waiting patiently on the damp sidewalk outside of the airport while Giles rhapsodized about smells.
“Yes, alright. I imagine you’re quite tired. I know I am. Let’s get a taxi and get back to my flat so we can get some rest before I have to go to the Council house tomorrow.”
Suiting deed to word, Giles stepped out to flag down a waiting taxi. Piling their baggage in the boot of the car, Giles handed Willow into the back seat, then followed her in, to relax gratefully against the cushions as he gave the address to the driver.
~*~
‘I can go
anywhere
I can hold my head up
I can breathe in the air
“She what?! Faith? Wesley, Dawn… are you sure?”
Buffy looked incredulous at what the younger Watcher and her ‘now-the-new-Slayer’ sister told her and Spike about their encounter with Faith’s ghost as they had patrolled.
“Quite sure, Buffy. She looked as solid as you do, standing there. Actually, I don’t know why you’d find it difficult to believe, having undergone three deaths yourself. Then too, you’re dating a vampire with a soul. The second one, I might add. And this one is now technically a ‘day-walker’.” Wesley looked at Dawn quickly, “That is what they were calling them in that movie you made me watch with you, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what they called the guy. All those vampire qualities and a lot more! Kinda what Spike is now.” Dawn assured her Watcher as she glanced at Spike. The blonde vampire stood next to Buffy, his arm draped casually across her shoulders as they listened to Dawn and Wesley tell about the evening’s adventures.
“Nibblet… You know I don’t do the sword thing or have a tan… oomph!”
Spike had been teasing Buffy and Dawn about the same thing since they’d all watched the movie. He’d pointed out that Buffy was the one who used swords. It had gotten him a nasty glare the first few times, but he should have remembered where he was standing this time, as Buffy’s elbow caught him right in the ribs.
“Guys, as much fun as this all is…” Sarcasm edged each word. “I’m tired, Spike’s home finally and I wanna get some sleep. Wes, why don’t you use Willow’s room until we can tackle the mansion and get it cleaned up and ready for you to live in.?”
“An excellent idea, Buffy. Thank you for the invitation.”
“Buffy, if you’re planning sleep, shouldn’t you make Spike stay on the couch?” Dawn teased her sister as she took a quick step toward the stairs. “ ‘Night, guys!”
The new Slayer giggled and took the stairs to her room two at a time like a typical teenager.
“I can see two Slayers in this house is going to take some getting used to...” Buffy sighed as her eyes followed her sister up the stairs and out of sight.
Spike and Wesley shared an amused glance over the top of Buffy’s head.
“I shall follow her example and go up to bed as well. Goodnight and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Wesley left the blonde pair standing in the living room.
“So, shall we get some sleep too, love?”
“Yeah. But don’t count on it anytime soon, Spike. Not after how long you’ve been gone…” Buffy’s words held the promise of excesses to come.
“ Good, ‘cause I’ve missed you too.” Spike scooped Buffy into his arms, surprising her, then headed up the stairs carefully, as even with vampiric enhanced senses, he still found it difficult to see where he was going while he kissed the small, powerful woman in his arms.
‘I know you had to go away
I died just a little, and I feel it now
You're the one I need’
~*~
Quentin could taste the coming dawn in the dustiness of the air. The first hints of the rising sun clung to the air, softening it, tinting it with an edge the vampire could almost roll over his tongue.
It was time.
He’d been spry for his age before being turned, so sliding down the face of the wall through the sooty tunnel into the abandoned coal shuttle was no difficulty at all.
He landed knees bent, fingertips touching the gritty floor then waited, listening for a long moment before rising carefully to press his back into the sidewall.
Foot after foot, Quentin eased from the dark, cold, boiler room to the doorway for the main room where he’d spied his sire. The door hung ajar, one set of hinges almost out of the dry-rotted wood.
Grasping the edge of the door, he lifted the massive piece of wood, opening it with exaggerated care and slowness to prevent any unexpected creaks. When the door was finally open far enough for him to ease through the aperture, Quentin set the wood back down on the floor, trusting the rusty screws to hold the hinges on for a bit longer.
Standing just inside the larger room, the invading vampire stopped to assess his surroundings.
The windows were covered on the outside of the windows with weathered shutters. Small fingers of sunlight wormed through the gaps caused by age, cold, heat and rain. They weren’t as much a threat as they were a help to see inside the vacant warehouse.
The other vampires had rigged shelters of a sort from boards and blankets over stacks of boxes, like small lean-tos or tents, along the edges of the walls.
Then in their already filthy, ragged clothes, they had lain down to sleep for the day.
Quentin saw his sire off to one side, away from the others. He understood the man’s thinking, though. You stayed separate from those under you. The ‘chief’ didn’t sleep with the help.
Smiling in the darkness, Quentin knew that habit would make what came next, so much easier for him, as he moved slowly, inches at a time until he’d crept his way next to where his sire lay.
Then, still moving with exaggerated care, he carefully pulled the lower edge of the blanket from the floor behind his sire.
Quentin reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the stake he’d made while he waited through the night hours, and with one swift strike, plunged it into the back of his sire, hitting the heart.
The vampire’s eyes flew open as he gasped one quick un-needed breath, then crumbled into a layer of dust on the top of the dust and debris that already covered the floor.
To the left of where he now stood, Quentin saw one of the other vampires rise from his makeshift shelter.
“Wh’ot’s goin’ on here?”
“We’ve had a change in leadership. Wake the others so I can explain the new rules to everyone.”
Quentin sat on the pile of boxes while he twirled the stake idly through his fingers.
~*~
‘Do you always trust your first
initial feeling
Special knowledge holds truth
bears believing...’
Giles unlocked the door of his flat with a sigh of relief. Although he loved his Slayer like a daughter, and Dawn as well; over the last few months England had again become home and he was very glad to return home again.
Setting his suitcase just inside the door, Giles hurried to turn on a light for Willow. He could find his way around the flat in the dark, but she’d be hopelessly lost, running into everything. The soft, warm glow of the lamp filled the corner of the room just as the redheaded witch sat her own case on the floor.
“Do have a seat, Willow. I’ll get some linens to make up the bed in the spare room. It’s a sleeper sofa, if that’s alright with you, but it should be fine. I used it when I first got the flat while I waited for the bedroom set I’d ordered to be delivered. It’s quite comfortable.”
He knew he was talking entirely too much, but he was nervous about having her here in his flat… alone. The feel of her lying along his back when he’d innocently shared her bed at Buffy’s kept flashing across his mind. Giles realized it had been much too long since he’d been out on a date or had, as Anya would have put it, an ‘orgasm partner’.
“If you’ll grab the sheets, I’ll come help you pull it out and make it up, if that’s okay. Two of us can do that faster than one and I’m sorry, Giles, but I’m really about out on my feet.”
Willow looked at him very apologetically.
“Certainly. It’s right through there.”
He pointed to a doorway just past the end of the sofa as he turned toward the other door on the right.
Willow picked her case up again to take it into the room he’d indicated, flipping on the overhead light.
It was a small room, done in deep creams, greens and plums. A book-strewn desk sat against one wall. The sofa was next to the desk, with a small end table in the corner next to the far wall. There was a brass lamp, the base intermittently covered with dark plum suede, sitting on the table. A parchment colored shade topped the piece.
On the next wall, there was a large window, just down from the table. The dark cream-colored drapes were closed, but hanging next to them on either side, were tiebacks of the same deep plum, with the addition of gold edging. The sofa itself was a very pretty, although, masculine plaid of plum and deep forest green on the dark cream background.
All in all, the room was beautiful and not something she’d ever have expected to find in Giles’ home. Not that he was a slob, or had no sense of style, she thought hurriedly to herself, just that none of them had ever seen it like this before.
Giles came through the doorway, arms loaded with sheets the same dark plum, on top of a cream colored comforter that matched the draperies. He balanced a couple of pillows precariously on the sheets by means of his chin.
“Oooo, let me help you with those, Giles. This is a beautiful room!” Willow grabbed for the pillows on top, setting them into the chair seat in front of the desk before turning back to start removing cushions from the sofa.
“Thank you, Willow. An old friend of mine is a designer. He talked me into letting him assist in decorating the flat when I was fortunate enough to acquire it.”
“He? A ‘he’ is the designer? Wow! That’s a surprise.”
“Well, Roland and I’ve known each other since we were children. He always was the bully on the block, so to speak.” Giles chuckled.
“So is your friend like, married? Does he have any kids or whatever?” Willow thought that perhaps the man might even have a daughter or someone close to her age since she knew absolutely no one here except Giles, and she just couldn’t see him wanting to spend all his free time with her. She hoped if she could find a companion to hang out with, he wouldn’t feel obligated to entertain her.
“More the ‘whatever’ I’d imagine. Roland and, ah… Eric, have been together for almost twenty years. They raise those obnoxious little English pugs or some such. Small dogs… look as though they’ve been chasing parked cars.”
Willow giggled at the description of the dogs, but knew her face fell at the news of no one conveniently close to her age.
Giles saw it immediately. “Why do you ask, Willow? Are you alright? Is there a problem?”
“Well, I just thought…. You’re gonna be busy and all and I didn’t want you to feel like you have to spend time with me or anything. If your friend had a daughter or whoever, close to my age, I’d have someone to hang out with to see the sights without having to take you away from things you need to do.”
Giles stopped in the midst of slipping the pillow under his chin into its plum-colored case, laying it to one side before laying a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Willow, I know you’re in a strange place and know no one except me. I promise you that you won’t be taking me away from anything and it’s no burden to spend time with you. We’ll be spending a good deal of time together while I teach you. I did have in mind to ask another friend to assist from time to time as she can help you with what could be termed more… ‘women’s mysteries’, but I feel very strongly about teaching you. I shirked the responsibilities previously, however that cannot continue. You have entirely too much power to be left untaught. It’s not safe for you, not to mention those around you.” He held up his hand to stop her protests at his comment.
“I know there were extenuating circumstances before, but the fact remains that we… I, often called upon your use of magick to assist in our fights against various evil beings, yet I did nothing to attempt to teach you or channel your energies on an ethical path.”
Willow tried again to protest at the older man’s comments, but he laid the other hand on her shoulder to quiet her and continued, “No, I’m all too well aware of what can occur with magickal energies if the ethics are not hammered into one’s head constantly. Power is a tremendous temptation and while in this case, you certainly did have extreme provocation; I’m the one who knew best how innocently such things can get out of hand. If you’ll remember, Ethan is the only one of my initial group of experimenters still alive beside myself. We can’t have anything remotely similar happening with you.”
Giles smiled slightly at the redhead as he turned back to pick up the discarded pillow halfway into it’s casing. “You have more power than any of my paltry group ever imagined. Now we must see it safely channeled and you well taught so that it can never be a problem for you again.” He tossed the covered pillow at her, a mischievous grin on his tired face. “Don’t worry, you’ll have more work than you know what to do with and who knows, I may need your assistance here as well.”
“Well… okay. I get what you’re trying to tell me. You know if I can do anything to help… of course I will, Giles. That’s what friends are for, right?” Willow mentally kicked herself for the attitude that had almost reared its ugly head again while she ‘fished’ for a bit of reassurance.
Giles was paying attention and picked up on the need in her voice. “Quite right, Willow. We are friends and I should hope that we would always be so. But right now, neither one of us will be very pleasant to be around if we don’t get some sleep.”
Impulsively, Willow quickly gave him an awkward hug. Giles hesitated only a fraction of a second before he returned the hug, caught mentally off balance by her actions.
“Goodnight, Willow. If you’re up before me in the morning, the kettle is on the stove. Just add water and boil. The tea is in the green canister that says ‘tea’. I think everything else is also easily found. I’ve left a small light on in the loo, ah.. bathroom, in case you awake during the night.”
He dropped a kiss that was just a brush of his lips, across her hair as he turned to leave the room. He could swear he heard his bed calling him.
“Giles?” The question stopped him abruptly. He looked back over his shoulder, his own question on the tip of his tongue, but Willow continued, “T-thank you. I… Just, thank you.”
“You’re welcome Willow. G’night.” Rupert Giles headed for the comfort of his own bed.
~*~
‘You're my obsession, my addiction, my drug
So let the candle grow into a great fire of love
Will you be there in the morning?
Will you be there when I want you?
Will you be there when I wake up?
I need you to be there in the morning’
“It’s so odd to hear that sound, you know? But it’s nice. I like it.” Buffy lay in the curve of Spike’s arms, her head resting on his sculpted chest, more relaxed than she’d been in weeks.
“ ‘S’no stranger than to have it beatin’ inside my chest after so many years. Thought someone was followin’ me in that cave, when I heard it. Worried me a bit at first, and all. Thought there might be more tests to struggle through… But then it started to really piss me off, thinkin’ somebody was spyin’ on me like that.” Spike knew that even as much as they had talked about recent events, various bits and pieces of the last few weeks would continue to ‘pop up’ as they thought of them, at least for a while.
He held Buffy to him, his arm curving behind her back, his hand cupping her shoulder as his thumb traced small circles on her skin. He ‘combed’ the fingers of his other hand through her hair repeatedly. It had grown out while he was gone. He could admit that he’d missed that shining fall of gold when she’d cut it, back when she’d been so ‘brassed' off’ at him. He thought he should let her know that he’d missed her long hair and that he noticed it was growing out again.
“I’m glad you let your hair grow. I missed it when it was short. I know it was easier for you, but I missed the feel of it across my skin when we, ah, were together.”
Buffy raised her head and turned slightly to look at his face. She saw the shadow of bruises play across his jaw, from his fight with Angel. “That’s very sweet, Spike. I kinda missed my hair too. I knew it bothered you, so when you left…. Well, I let it grow so when you came back…” Her voice trailed off as the fear crawled inside her. The fear that had gnawed at her the entire time he’d been away. The fear that she’d never see him again, that he’d left her like Angel and Riley… Her mom, her Dad….Giles. So many people she’d loved that had left.
Spike pulled her up his body until her eyes were even with his. He saw the shine of unshed tears glitter in the moonlight. “Buffy, sometimes one person has to go away. It doesn’t mean they don’t love the other person. It just is. But if I ever go away again, you know there will always be a good reason and because I had no choice. I came back, Buffy. I came back because this is where I want to be.” He tucked her back into his chest again, holding her close, feeling the shiver she struggled to suppress. “If I ever have to leave, I’ll always come back. They do too.”
“They?” Buffy’s words were muffled against his skin.
“Your Watcher, Angel… Willow will be back too.” He took in a deep breath as he braced himself for his own words, “Even tha’ ‘cowboy’ came back. I know you said he was married and all, but he did come back. Let you close things between you two.”
“Yeah, it did. You’re amazing, Spike. Did you know that?”
“Well, yeah. But what for this time? Yywwwwwooooowww! That hurt!” He reached to rub the spot on his chest where she’d bitten him.
“Cause nobody but you can piss me off so much, Spike. But mostly cause you see things, you pay attention. After you read me and Angel the riot-act about being friends that time, I told him later that for some reason I couldn’t lie to you, no matter what I actually told you. You’ve always know me better than I’ve known myself, Spike. And even when most men would be having a ‘testosterone flare-up’, you see things and tell me.”
“I just know you, Slayer. You’re too much like me for me to not know you. I watched you too long to not know you.” The thought of what had happened with her and Angel so very recently, rose through his mind at the mention of his grandsire’s name. He growled at her, deep inside of his chest as he pulled her back up to capture her lips, then with one swift movement, rolled her beneath him, kissing her until they both had to breath.
Spike slid his mouth along her skin, down the side of her neck to rest over the scar from Angel’s bite years before when she saved his life with her own blood. Growling again, Spike pulled the flesh into his mouth, rolling his tongue along the raised edge of the scar as he bit down, careful not to draw blood with sharpened teeth. He’d discovered he had a ‘half-way’ set of fangs now, much like Buffy’s when she was angry.
Buffy writhed against him from underneath, her nails raking down his naked back as she arched her neck into his mouth and her body against him. He felt the growl in her throat before he heard it, even with enhanced hearing. Moments later, he felt her break the skin of his shoulder with sharp teeth.
He drew breath quickly around the flesh of her neck where he still held it in his mouth, never lessening his hold. The air felt like fire as it hit his lungs, filling him with heat… filling him with… power.
Twisting his body slightly, he filled Buffy with his own body, the rising heat inside him, inside her, desperately seeking a way out as they strained against each other. Releasing the grip of his mouth on her neck, Spike’s back arched, pushing him further inside her depths.
He felt the heat rising through him, around him. It flowed from her hands, her mouth, her muscles grasping him tightly, clinging to him like living fire, scorching a path across his skin, through his band new soul.
When he believed he would burst into flames any moment, the waves of pleasure rushed across him, caressed things inside of him where no hand could touch, and exploded from his mouth in a cry as his body exploded, as her inner muscles clutched him over and over, wringing him dry.
Even before the echo of their mingled cried had died into the moon-silver night, he dipped his head again, feeling the coolness of his fangs slide into the fire of her neck, feeling the ridge of scar tissue give way to him.
When Spike could finally think rational thoughts, he realized he had his fangs buried in Buffy’s neck. He’d not drunk from her, else his stomach would be protesting. But he curled his tongue back and forth across the tiny ooze of blood. Slowly withdrawing from her flesh, he licked at the wounds to heal them faster.
Spike heard a soft mewling sound from Buffy. Only then did he notice she still had a firm grip on his shoulder, that she’d bitten him as he had her. He felt her tongue imitating his, as she tried to pull back. But the sting of her nails in his upper arms told him she was far from finished with him for the night.
This was a different Buffy than the one he’d left when he’d headed to Africa. He fleetingly wondered if she’d been this aggressive with Angel, then the feel of her mouth on much more sensitive parts of his body quickly erased all thought for quite some time.
~*~
‘Well my mind takes no prisoners
-pities no one
Spares not even me 'til the harm is done
Here I go again
The night just walked in
In walks the night
Darkness all around me
And I'm dying for the
light’
Something dark pursued her through the trees. She ran until she had a cramp in her side, but still it came for her. With a cry, she flung herself headlong toward a meager spark of light she could just glimpse through the thick blackness and the thicker trees.
Willow sat straight up in bed, covered in sweat, shaking, tears streaming down her face.
The small light from the bathroom crept around the edge of her door where she’d left it open. She might be in Giles’ flat in England, but it was still a strange place.
‘I see you in the shadows
I can hear you in the wind
Think of you and I can feel my world closing in
I can't sleep I keep wishing I could touch you
I'd be fine if I could make it through
Through these
Angel tossed once more in his bed, then gave up. The dark-haired vampire sat on the side of the bed and dragged his hand through his hair before standing up to pull a robe on over the pajama bottoms he wore. The moon cast silver shadows, dark and light, with a much softer edge, across the small balcony connected to his room. He threw the doors open and stepped out into the night air.
In the new apartment complex across and up the street, he noticed the rare light here and there. A few odd souls who kept a different schedule….
But in Los Angeles, the city never slept, it simply had its ‘down times’. With the plethora of streetlights, the stars were masked most of the time, unless you went out to the beach in Santa Monica.
Not like in Sunnydale. You can always see the stars there at night. I wonder if Buffy patrolled tonight? Or maybe Wes took Dawn out to patrol and Buffy stayed in…
Angel shook his head and walked away from the windows. Only madness lay in the direction his thoughts kept trying to take….
He wished he could talk to her.. He wished he could just hold her….
Angel paced across the floor, fingertips going to touch the small ridge where Spike had bitten him only a day or so ago. The brooding vampire had to admit to himself that holding her was NOT all he wanted to do, unless you considered what they had done behind her house as ‘holding her’.
But like the old saying, ‘if wishes were horses…’.
Right now, Angel devoutly wished he could get the image of Buffy with Spike out of his head.
~*~
‘these dreams in the mist
Darkness on the edge
Shadows where I stand
I search for the time
On a watch with no hands
I want to see you clearly
Come closer than this’
Cordelia stood in the shadows of the balcony next to Angel’s.
She’d stayed at the Hyperion every night that Angel was in Sunnydale, keeping an eye on things. Now that he was back, she was staying to keep an eye on Angel.
Something happened while he was there, but he completely refused to talk to her about it.
Not that there is anything unusual about THAT! He’s
in Sunnydale, she’s in Sunnydale… Of course something’s going to happen. It’s
like… It’s like trying to put out a fire by pouring gasoline on it, getting
those two together with all that pent-up, frustrated ‘I-can’t-have...’
Freezing like a deer in the headlights, Cordelia held her breath as she saw Angel step through the doors onto his balcony. She could see the frustration in every line of his body before she ever saw his face. The look he wore only reawakened her fears. She saw him reach up to gingerly touch his neck again, shake his head and go back inside.
He’d been doing that whole thing with his neck ever since he got back too. Well, she might not be able to find out everything, but she could manage to get a look at his neck and see if there were any clues there. Then, if he still refused to talk to her, she’d simply pin Lindsey down and pry the information out of him.
Cordelia was certain that the lawyer knew what had happened. She could tell by the dark looks Angel threw at Lindsey anytime the subject of Sunnydale, Buffy or Spike came up in conversation.
That’s exactly what she’d do.
Having finally made that decision, Cordelia slipped back inside, got into bed, flipped off the switch on the small bedside light and stared at the patterns of moonlight on the ceiling, no closer to sleep than she had been before.
~*~
‘People stare and some pretend to speak
It takes more than one taboo to build a perfect freak’
Quentin Travers was quite happy with the small underground room he’d found in the warehouse.
Once he’d killed his sire that morning, and then one of the others just to make an example, he was having no more trouble getting the remainder of the minions to do exactly what he told them. They’d all gone exploring and this room was the results.
He’d sent two of them out earlier, right after sunset, with a list of exactly what he wanted. They’d managed to find every bit of it, fortunately for them.
Standing in the middle of the diagram he’d painstakingly drawn, he surveyed the runes once more, making sure they were all correct. Looking up at the wretch he’d designated as his second-in-command, Travers gave a short nod and stepped into the diagram.
His new lieutenant, Travers thought his name was Morris, walked carefully around the chalked marks, lighting the candles alone the outer circumference.
All except one.
Next to the unlit candle, Morris and another vampire laid a third man inside the diagram, careful not to disturb any of the marks, then lit the final candle and stepped back.
Travers carried out his parts of the ritual, then grabbed the bound man by the lapels, hauling him up and to the top of a makeshift table. Continuing the incantations, he raised the knife, catching the light in a gleaming line along the wickedly sharp edge.
As he felt the energy rise to a crescendo, Travers brought the blade down in one quick stroke across the man’s throat, and instantly felt the energy multiply as it coursed up his arm, only to be directed out to several select targets quite some distance away. Exuberantly, he watched his ‘willing sacrifice’ crumble into dust.
A slight smile crawled across his face like a wounded spider, making it appear even more evil and macabre in the candle light shining up from below him.
THERE! Now let’s see what results we get. Their inner selves and dreams ought to be getting a little ‘boost’ right about now.
Travers smiled again as he walked the diagram and extinguished all the candles except the one power candle that he’d leave to burn down, spreading the energy he’d conjured, to the intended recipients.
All in all, he felt it was a good night’s work.
~*~
‘and how can I stand here with you
and not be moved by it’
Giles’ first awareness as he slowly awoke, was of having his arm around a soft warmth.
He opened one eye, fearful that he knew all too well what that warmth was….
He was right.
Willow was lying on her side, back snuggled against his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist.
The older man closed his eyes again. This will never do! I know this has to have been completely innocent, but I’m still only human. If I keep finding her in bed with me, or me with her… Sooner or later nature will take a hand in matters and I cannot do that! She’s still but a child. She’s still grieving for Tara.
A groan, barely audible, escaped his lips, She’s still a very attractive woman…
He knew he had to get up and seek the privacy of the bathroom, getting dressed to armour himself against thoughts and feelings that caught him completely off guard.
Willow stirred at the slight sound. She was warm, knew she was safe with Giles’ arm wrapped around her, safe in his room with the wards he’d placed or had placed around the room. She wasn’t sure what had woken her, but she thought it might have been the sound of him waking behind her.
Willow could feel a tenseness in his body that indicated he was awake. She moved, stretching slightly, to let him know she was also awake, so that he didn’t need to worry about disturbing her.
She looked over her shoulder at the man she’s known for six years.
His hair was sleep-rumpled; the pillowcase had left a crease in his cheek.
Willow knew she ought to be more worried about sleeping next to Giles, about waking to find she’d been snuggled against him, about his arm around her and her own comfortable acceptance of it. But for some reason, she was simply content and comfortable.
“ ‘Morning.”
“Ah, yes. Good morning, Willow. Um, not to appear rude, but why are you here? In my bed, here, not here, in my flat or in England here.” Willow simply looked at him, the laughter that attempted to bubble up, pulling the corner of her mouth slightly up, at what Giles thought was an adorable angle, as she keep the mirth tucked down inside.
A second groan followed that completely shocking thought.
Unable to hold the laughter back and not choke, Willow exploded into giggles, covering her mouth with her hand as she rolled over to her back, away from the shocked expression on Giles’ face.
“Here now! What’s so bloody funny about a reasonable question?”
Struggling to speak through the laughter, Willow tried to explain. “You should have seen the expression on your face! Like you thought we’d actually done something, Giles…. I came in here last night cause of a really bad nightmare that didn’t seem like a nightmare at the time and asked if I could stay in here ‘cause I was so scared. You invited me in and had me tell you about the dream while you tried really hard to stay awake. You told me you’d had this room warded and that I’d be safe in here, so I took you at your word and went back to sleep. But your expression just now… It was priceless! Then you did that funny explanation thing you do when you say something and you‘re nervous.”
Her eyes twinkled up at him, bright with mischief.
“I did no such thing! The… the explaining about something when I’m nervous, because I wasn’t nervous at all, just surprised to find you here and I hadn’t remembered about the nightmare since I was half asleep at the time… And I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
Willow just giggled, hands over her mouth as she nodded at him.
“I’m sorry, Willow. I was a bit nervous when I woke up. I wasn’t sure why you were in here with me. I really must have been very much asleep last night when you spoke to me. I should have realized…”
He shook his head slightly as he sat up, turning toward the redheaded witch lying on her back in his bed, watching him, a smile still on her face.
“Giles, you know us better than that. Besides… what did you think we did? We still have all our clothes on.” She shot him a sly, knowing grin that nudged his male pride.
“Why you little minx…” Without thinking, he reached to tickle her as one would a playful child.
As his fingertips touched her sides through the plain cotton pajama top, Willow snaked one arm around his neck, pulling him toward her, intending to lick the tip of his nose as she’d done with Tara sometimes when they would play like this.
Neither was prepared for what actually happened.
Giles felt her pull his face down toward her own and the remainder of whatever he normally used as good sense, fled completely. Willow had aimed for his nose, but instead, as Giles changed trajectory suddenly, found the tip of her tongue gliding across the curve of his lips.
It lasted only seconds as he pulled her into his arms with a strangled sound, then firmly captured her lips with his, parting his own to grant her entry.
Seconds expanded into minutes as the kiss continued hungrily. Each of them seeking something taken from their lives, each finding what they sought until conscience pulled them apart, breathless, trembling. Blue-grey eyes searched blue-green ones, both struggling to understand what had happened, how they had gotten so out of control….
“Willow, I…”
“Don’t! Don’t you dare tell me that you’re sorry! Just… don’t.” She pushed at his chest, scrambling from under the covers, under him. Leaning to scoop her robe from the floor, Willow fled from the room.
Moments later, Giles heard the slam of the door to the spare room… Willow’s room.
Raking his hand through his hair, Giles cursed at himself for his actions, for trying to apologize, for making her feel horrible for something he felt had been his fault.
Feeling twice his actual age, Giles got out of the bed, pulling the covers more or less into place before gathering up his clothes for the day and heading into the smaller bath off his room.
He thought a cold shower would be just about right, just about what he deserved.
~*~
Lindsey was already sitting at the small kitchen table that they used at the hotel, cup of coffee in hand.
Angel had showered and dressed, but it hadn’t improved his mood at all. Muttering under his non-breath, the irritable vampire grabbed a container of blood from the refrigerator, almost spilling it. That produced more grumbling, but Angel finally managed to pour it into his favorite cup, looked at the cup and then poured the blood into a different one before setting it in the microwave. He held the first cup under the water in the sink to rinse it out; refusing today to drink out of the mug Buffy had gotten him that day… That day shortly before Doyle had died.
The microwave pinged at him and the brooding vampire took the cup out, sitting down across from Lindsey. The young man had wisely not said a word, simply watched his new boss almost slam around the kitchen, change cups, grumble and growl at everything and nothing before sitting down heavily into the opposite chair. “Bad night?”
“Ummm.” Angel took another sip of his breakfast.
“Something wrong with the other cup?”
“No.”
“Okay… Let me get this straight. You don’t want anyone else knowing what happened in Sunnydale, so instead, you slam around the kitchen, change cups cause nothing’s wrong, grunt in monosyllables, and wear a look like a week’s worth of bad weather on the way. So what exactly do you think might be wrong with this picture, Angel?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it, Lindsey.”
“Fine by me.” Lindsey shrugged his shoulders but continued with his impromptu evaluation, “I KNOW what happened. Want me to guess about the cup? Buffy gave it to you. I’d also say you didn’t sleep well, and kept thinking about where she was, or more likely, who she was with and what they were probably doing.”
“Fine, so you’re a good attorney. You’re observant.” Angel turned slightly in his chair, away from the table.
“Look dude, I don’t know you even a third as well as that woman upstairs. You’re not fooling me for an instant and although she might not know exactly what happened, she’s been hinting and asking questions already. If you think you’re gonna convince her this way, that you’re okay; the only person you’re fooling is yourself. I just thought you ought to know.” Lindsey got up and walked to the counter, pouring himself another cup of coffee as he ignored Angel’s scrutiny. He added creamer and sugar to the cup and was about to sit back in his chair again, when Cordelia entered the kitchen, her eyes going straight to Angel.
“ Morning, Lindsey… Angel.” She paused behind Angel for a moment, reaching for his shirt collar as she told him, “Collar’s crooked.”
She straightened it, seeing the bite mark on the vampire’s neck, then walked over to the counter and the coffee pot. With a quick glance, Cordelia took in the empty butcher’s container in the sink, something Angel never did, and his favorite cup that Buffy had given him, sitting on the drainer next to the sink.
Taking her own cup back to the table, Cordelia sat down, glancing first at Lindsey, then looked directly at Angel, “So are you planning to tell me what happened in Sunnydale? And before you say nothing, I know better. You always drink out of that mug Buffy gave you when you… When she was here that time. You never leave an empty blood container in the sink, although I’ve seen enough of them and bought enough of them for you.” Cordelia took a sip of her coffee, savoring that first taste in spite of the turmoil inside of her. “Then too, I’m sure there is a good explanation why you have a vampire bite on the back of your neck. Don’t tell me you did it shaving either. So give… or I’m calling Buffy to ask her.”
“Cordelia, I don’t want to talk about it. Buffy won’t talk about it either.”
“Okay... I’m sure Willow or somebody will tell me.”
“Willow went to England with Giles. He got called back because of that wacko head guy getting turned. The one responsible for Faith being killed?” Lindsey explained, trying casually to help Angel sidetrack Cordelia from her pursuit of information.
“Giles? OH! You mean Traveler, or whatever his name is a…. Yeah, I do remember you telling me that, Lin. But Wesley’s there too. I can probably get the information from him, or maybe Spike…”
Angel made a sound somewhere between a self-depreciating laugh and a snort as he abruptly stood, almost knocking his chair over on the floor. Cordelia couldn’t help but remember a very similar action from Wesley when he was so hurt and angry with himself. She looked up at Angel’s darkly scowling face.
“So what did you do? You still have your soul….” She saw the flicker of emotion cross his face before it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “Oh my God! You did! You and she… How? And how did you get bit? Buffy’s not a vampire, is she?”
“No, she’s not a vampire.” Angel scowled even more at her speculations that were all too close to what had actually happened.
Lindsey just sat back, watching them both, a slight ‘cat-that-ate-the-canary’ smile on his features. Cordelia caught the look and continued, “No, Buffy’s not a vampire, you say. But you didn’t deny that you were with her… so I’m gonna guess Spike came back and the two of you had one of those ‘dominance’ fights you’ve told me about, and he won. So he bit you.”
Angel never said a word, but the brunette saw the haunted look fill his eyes like a great beast rising from the depths of the deep brown orbs. “So you and Buffy were together but you didn’t lose your soul. Spike came back and found out. He didn’t catch you two, or you’d have a lot more marks than just a single bite, I’m guessing. The two of you had a fight, then, after. And now, you’re being all tormented having had a ‘taste’ of forbidden fruit again…”
Angel and Lindsey both almost choked on their drinks, but for very different reasons at her choice of words. Cordelia slammed her hands onto the table and stood up, grabbing her cup of coffee again.
“God, Angel! Of all the stupid…” Her words turned into a mutter as she stormed past him, heading toward the front office.
“I hate to say ‘I-told-you-so’, but I did.” Lindsey was secretly amused at Angel’s chagrin and the rather adroit way Cordy had figured out most of the entire scenario.
“Fine, you told me. Now she’s pissed at me. I still have my soul, so it’s not like I’m gonna start killing everybody. So why is she angry?” Angel stared at the door.
Lindsey simply got to his feet, holding his half-filled coffee cup, as he too, headed for the front office. Now that Cordelia was in there, he knew she’d have work for him to do. He clapped Angel on the shoulder as he paused before walking past the vampire. “Angel, you’ve been around for what… Two hundred and fifty years as a vampire and how many before that as a man? And you ask ME the answer to THAT question?”
Lindsey just chuckled as he headed through the door, up the short hallway, then into the main office. The laughter died abruptly as he opened the door to find Cordelia sitting at the desk, a pile of papers unseen in front of her as tears streaked her face and plopped softly on the forms.
Lindsey had only been teasing Angel, or so he thought.
It seemed he had actually been right. Cordelia was in love with Angel.
~*~
‘Listen, you got the kind of eyes that do more than see
You got a lotta nerve to come on to me
You got the kind of lips that do more than drink
You got the kind of mind that does less than think’
Spike nuzzled Buffy’s neck as he woke with her in his arms, her own arms and legs wrapped around his body as though she’d climbed inside of him.
She woke with her usual sleepy grumble. He’d missed that terribly while he was away from her.
“D’anybody tell you, y’too cheerful inna morning’?”
“Yeah. You, all the time.” He nuzzled her shoulder; laying butterfly kisses across her skin.
Buffy shrugged slightly moving his lips away from her skin, “Tickles..”
“You didn’t complain last night, love.”
“Wasn’t asleep last night.”
“I remember. But you were the one for the fifth go-round at almost dawn. Speaking of which, lil’ sis headed down the stairs a few minutes ago, so you know she’ll be back up soon to wake us if we’re not up.”
“Aaagggghhhhh!” Buffy struggled away from Spike, shoving covers but only managing to tangle them around her legs. “The only excuse for morning is to keep night from running into afternoon! Get OFF!” She gave a hard push at the offending mound of cover, finally extracting her legs and kicking the comforter on the floor.
Having succeeded in ‘killing’ the ‘vicious’ covers, Buffy staggered out of bed, rubbing her eyes; and yawning, as she headed for the bathroom.
Spike stayed right where he was, enjoying the sight of her nude body.
When Buffy disappeared into the bathroom, Spike crawled out of bed slowly with a soreness he felt in every muscle. Oh, he’d enjoyed the previous night, but he might have to walk carefully for the next few hours… or day. Feeling a sharp twinge in his shoulder, he reached up to gingerly explore the mark with a fingertip. The bite was deep and sore. He knew his shirt would be quite uncomfortable over it, but there was no getting around it. The blonde vampire smiled to himself as he thought about their activities from the previous night that had led to him wearing the bite mark…
“SPIKE!”
He winced slightly at the metal-bending tone in that call. It promised probable damage to him if he didn’t get into the bathroom fairly quickly, and possibly even if he did…
Spike sighed slightly, thinking that if she was looking at her own neck, it wasn’t ‘probable’ damage, but definite. It made him almost want to cover his nose with his hand before going through that door, but he knew how ridiculous he’d look. “You shrieked, Buffy?”
He’d walked behind her, looking at her in the mirror as he caught her eyes with his own in the glass.
They’d already discovered he had a reflection now. Probably courtesy of his shiny new soul and being almost human again.
“Look at my neck!”
“Love, I know quite well what your neck looks like.”
“I MEAN where you bit me!”
“Not to quibble, Buffy, but have you seen what you did to my shoulder? Bloody well tried to take a chunk out of it, you did.”
“I don’t mean THAT! I mean THIS!” Still looking at him in the mirror, she pointed to the mark over Angel’s scar.
“Yeah, that bite.”
“Stop being deliberately dense, Spike. You bit over the scar on my neck. You know damned good and well I’ll have another scar on top of that scar now.”
Spike just looked at her in the mirror, seeing the real reason for her anger, seeing what he’d been afraid he’d see, seeing the reason he’d done exactly what he did. “You’re brassed off ‘cause I marked over the scar Angel made. It’s not the bite that’s the problem, or even havin’ another scar on your body or your neck. It’s cause of it bein’ over Angel’s scar. Don’t even think about lyin’ ‘bout it.”
He took her head in both hands and turned her just a fraction back toward the mirror so she had to look at her own reflection. “Can’t lie about being angry with me anymore. You give yourself away, Slayer. I’ll use the downstairs bathroom.” Angrily, Spike turned away from her, stalking back through the bedroom, catching up a robe and sliding it on before he reached the door.
Buffy heard the door slam as she stared at her own image in the glass. Reaching up to carefully touch her face, she thought it looked like it had thinned out, the bone structure more prominent. Opening her mouth slightly, she saw the sharpened teeth. Dropping her hand back down to her side, she stared at her reflection while Spike’s words echoing in her head, his anger lingering in the room like an unpleasant odor.
With elaborate care, deliberately slowed movements, Buffy turned away from the glass and opened the faucets. She spent several minutes just adjusting the water temperature before she got in the tub, flipping the lever to direct the steaming water to the showerhead. Stepping into the stinging spray, she closed her eyes, running her hands over her face, searching…
The softness was back, the skin no longer taunt over her cheekbones…
Turning her back to the wall, she let the water pound across her head, neck and shoulders as she thought about what Spike had said to her. Long minutes later, she finally admitted to herself that he’d been right. She’d been afraid the bite over the previous scar had some specific meaning, would do something to that small, tangible bit of Angel she always had with her, even if it was only a scar.
Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she knew those fears were right, that Spike’s bite over Angel’s would affect the tenitive connect between she and Angel. She also knew that to Angel and Spike, it was as if she was divorced from Angel, had married Spike, but had insisted on wearing Angel’s ring. The scar was something that probably brought the specter of his sire into their bed every time Spike saw it.
Buffy had to admit that she’d not have tolerated a constant reminder of Druscilla from Spike.
Deciding he owed her an explanation about what he’d actually done with his bite; she knew she also owed him an apology for being a shrew that morning, in addition to not having understood how the mark on her neck affected both of them until now.
Holding that thought firmly in her mind and heart, she hurried through the remainder of her morning ritual, dressed and headed down the stairs to find her lover.
~*~
Quentin had his new minions obtain what he considered to be more decent bedding for him. He didn’t really care where they‘d found it. It was clean and was comfortable and that was his main concern. That they’d brought back clean items for themselves as well was of no concern to him.
Before going to sleep for the day, he’d killed another of them to make his point about being obeyed. True, it thinned the ranks a bit, but he wasn’t concerned. He could always make more.
So ensconced in a smaller more secure room, Travers slept, feeling secure with two of the minions to guard his door. Step one of his plans to destroy Buffy Summers was in effect and if all went as planned; he’d be recovering some of his more valued volumes from his room at the Council house that very evening. With those, he could do a great deal more damage.
It was something he looked forward to.
~*~
“Mornin’, Dawnie! How you feeling?”
Dawn jumped into a fighting stance as quickly as she could crawl back into her skin. She’d been startled by the unexpected voice, even though she’d been warned, but after all… It was broad daylight!
“Faith, it’s daytime. What are you doing here?”
“Hey, you mean you believed all that rot about ghosts only being around at night? Geeze, Dawnie. I can be here anytime. Gotta get used to that. If I’d been a demon or something, you be hurtin’ about now. It’ll keep you on your toes if I show up anytime or place.” Faith grinned at the teen as she relaxed against the counter, balancing carefully so she didn’t ‘fall’ through the wood.
Dawn reached for the coffee pot. Oh, she knew Buffy would fuss, but right about now, she could use a good shot of caffeine! “Well, can’t you go bother Wesley instead? Keep him on HIS toes? Or at least get him on them, since I think he’s still asleep.”
“Now that’s a thought. Wonder what ol’ Wes sleeps in….”
“Eeewww, isn’t a strong enough word for that! Thank you so much for that image first thing this morning, Faith. I’m gonna have a cup of coffee and drown myself now, thanks.”
“Hey, any time, kiddo. I’m here to help!” The brunette ghost just grinned as Dawn rolled her eyes and headed for the back steps. She enjoyed a few quiet minutes alone in the early morning, just watching the sky brighten; the birds emerge for the day.
Spike stepped out on the back landing, cup in hand and sat down next to Dawn. “That Faith in the kitchen, poking around?”
“You can see her?!”
“Well, yeah. Not like it’s a problem, ‘Bit.”
“She said only Wesley and I would be able to see her, is all.”
“Guess she was mistaken. Saw her plain as day in there, snoopin’ through the cabinets and such.”
“Great. Not only a ghost, but one that can show up at all hours and now she’s nosy on top of all that. I can see that slaying is gonna be such fun… NOT!”
“Is it okay if I join you two?”, Buffy asked her lover and her sister hesitantly, unsure of her welcome right now.
“Sure, Buffy. Let’s get a table out here as well, so we all have room. Think Wesley will be out soon too?” Dawn’s irritation at having, what she considered her private time, preempted, was plain in her words.
“Maybe. He was having a conversation with Faith when I got my coffee.”
“Don’t tell me you saw her too?”
“Well, yeah… D’you mean Spike saw her as well?” She looked at him for confirmation of her question.
“Sittin’ right here, Slayer. And yeah, I saw her. Slender, brunette, foxy lookin’ little chit?”
“I guess I deserved that, Spike. I was coming to apologize.”
Dawn stood abruptly between the two blondes. “Hey, you guys don’t mind me. I’ll just go sit on the front porch before you wade into your morning fight.”
“Sorry, Dawn. We already had that. That’s why I wanted to apologize.” Buffy even sounded chagrined for once.
“I give up. I quit. I’ll be out front. Maybe there will be only a couple of demons or vamps braving the morning light instead of ghosts and sisters and vampire day-walkers, so I can have a little peace and quiet!” Dawn stalked down the steps and around the corner of the house as Buffy and Spike watched.
“What got into her this morning?”
“Probably same thing that gets her sister every morning.” Spike thought about how neither Summers’ female was exactly a morning person…
“Spike! I know you’re not doing that with Dawn!” She smiled at him to let him know she was trying to tease him. His expression remained solemn. “I, ah… I owe you an apology, Spike. You were right and I was wrong. I had no right to yell at you about what you did. I even think I understand why. Can we talk about this? I DO love you, you irritating vampire.”
Spike stood and pulled her into his arms, holding her close as he rested his head on top of hers.
“Yeah, we probably should talk about it. I love you too, Buffy. You know I do.”
~*~
You
never knew
Giles had set out two cups and was preparing to pour the tea, when Willow finally emerged from her room, stepping past the small table in the windowed alcove to look out at the trees, her back toward Giles, running her fingertip along the window edge.
“This is a really nice view, Giles. Probably don’t see many trees and stuff this close to the city.”
“Willow….”
“It’s really pretty out there, but kinda looks like it might rain.”
“Yes, it does that often here and yes, it’s difficult to get a place with such a view. Much like trying to apologize to you right now.”
The slender redhead stopped tracing the wood of the window frame, standing perfectly still as she tilted her head to look down. “You have nothing to apologize for, Giles. It was my fault. I – Tara and I used to tease each other... I’d lick the tip of her nose when she tickled me.” Willow gave a small, half-hearted shrug before she continued. “It just seemed the natural thing to do, but then you moved and my aim was off… I led you to think something other than what I had intended.”
Giles sat the teapot on the table and took two steps to stand behind her, placing his hands on top of her shoulders. “Willow, you did nothing wrong. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, or make you feel that you can’t come to me if you need something, even a safe place to sleep in the middle of the night. I- I overstepped what was proper. I know you’re grieving and I have no excuse for what I did. I can only ask your forgiveness.”
Energy flared suddenly around Willow in a greenish haze, she turned to face Giles, her eyes filled with the blackness of night. She pushed slightly with the power at her command, moving him several feet away from her, then swallowed the energy back down, the glow disappearing. “You have NOTHING to apologize for! The only way you can ruin our friendship IS to have no excuse for what you did! Don’t you understand that? Do you even know why I’m angry, Giles? Why I’m upset?”
While the Watcher appreciated the control she’d shown over the ability she wielded, he’d not expected such an action from her and certainly not the statement or questions she’d thrown at him. He wanted to tell her the truth, without angering or upsetting her further, but the energy he could feel that lay just under her skin worried him. He quickly opted to make the choice her decision. “I don’t quite know what you wish me to say, Willow. I can tell you the whole truth and risk your anger and wrath, or I can be ‘proper’ as I should do. The choice is yours.”
“The truth, Rupert. If we’re to be student and teacher or even just friends, the truth. I have at least enough control to not hurt you or tear the place up. If I feel out of control, I’ll use the exercises you taught me already or else just leave the room for a while. So what IS the truth?”
“Alright, I’m going to take you at your word here and treat you as the adult you are. The truth is that I’ve not been with anyone for quite some time. The situations here, what with going back and forth to Sunnydale, and all the work I’ve been doing, dangerous work, I might add; I didn’t feel it was right to get involved with anyone. You’re a very attractive woman, Willow. The moment you, ah, missed your aim… I wanted to do exactly what I did. However, considering our previous and current relationship, your situation and basically everything, I didn’t feel that such an action was appropriate, thus the apology. And if you’re going to ‘blast’ me, please do so as quickly as possible.”
Willow was slightly surprised at his admission, even though she was still angry with him. She tried to use the techniques he’d taught her so far and kept her voice down, a firm hold on her will, “Did you every consider asking me what I might think was appropriate? I’m not a little girl anymore, Rupert, as you pointed out. I’m not a virgin, or a sheltered innocent either. Did it ever occur to you that while it started out as ‘bad aim’, that I might have liked it? I DID kiss you back, if you’ll remember? And I’m not gonna ‘blast’ you.” She saw the surprise fill his face as he grasped the significance of her words. Willow could see him almost reach backwards to go over the memory of what had actually happened, to find the truth of her words.
“So you did. I know I noticed at the time, however, I then became so agitated at what I felt I’d done, that I seemed to have misplaced that portion of it. I’m sorry about that. Ah… did you?”
Willow couldn’t figure out for a moment what he meant, then as she realized he’d had an almost hopeful sound to the last question, she understood. “Yes. I did enjoy it. Now, for the rest of the truth from me. Fair is fair. I did enjoy it. I also enjoyed sleeping with you. It was comfortable and I felt safe. Having someone as familiar to me as you are helps me feel safe. I’m not ready for a relationship right now, Rupert, but I will be eventually. I might even want it to be with you. It’s not out of the question. So can we make up now and you not make any more decisions for me about my love-life without checking with me first?”
Giles finally relaxed, chuckled and stepped carefully back toward her. “A most reasonable request, Willow. I’m glad you feel safe with me, and though it may try my own will-power, especially after your admission, if you need to sleep next to me occasionally to feel safe, I’m certain we can manage that.”
“Good. Now give me a hug and let’s have something to eat. I’m starving. What do you guys have for breakfast here anyway?” Suited word to deed, Willow stepped closer, quickly hugging Giles. He wrapped his arms around her for only a moment before releasing her. It had seemed the thing to do after having just ‘made up’ from their earlier argument.
“Contrary to Xander’s comment regarding ‘bangers and mash’, we have eggs, toast and tea.”
He handed her into the chair opposite the window, letting her have the view of the woods.
“That’ll do it. So can I pick up supplies while you’re off to the Council house, for us to ward my room tonight?”
“I’ll make you a list and directions to the shop I frequent.”
The conversation turned casual, discussing the warding, his plans for the day with the Council and mundane trivia about the local area for the remainder of the meal.
~*~
Setting his cup down as he quickly walked around the desk, Lindsey gently turned Cordelia to face him, kneeling to hold her to him, letting her cry into his shoulder as her silent tears turned into racking sobs. “Cordy, honey, what’s wrong? Tell me. I’m your friend, Cordy. You know you can tell me anything.”
Cordelia clung to Lindsey, body shaking as she wept. She tried to deny everything, but the word came out in a trembling wail. “N-n-noth-ing…!”
“Cordy, you don’t cry like this for nothing. It’s Angel, isn’t it?”
“H-he was… w-with her!”
“I know…”
Angel stepped inside the doorway, but stopped as Lindsey flicked a glance at him. “Cordy, why are you so upset because he was with her? You know they’ve been together before…” Lindsey’s voice was soft, reassuring to Cordelia, but his gaze; hard, dark, cold, was turned on Angel as the vampire stood silently, watching, listening.
“H-he co-ould have l-l-lost his s-soul, Lindsey. W-we’d have to k-kill him.”
“You know we might have been able to put his soul back.”
“W-Willow did that be-before. You said she’s i-in England.”
“Cordelia, listen to me now. There are enough of us to be able to get the ritual from Willow and do it here if we had to, but he didn’t lose his soul, so why are you so upset? You know the past between Angel and Buffy.” Lindsey knew he was pushing her the same way she’d pushed Angel about events in Sunnydale. And knew her answers were just as important.
Cordelia sniffled as she struggled to stop crying, raising her head from Lindsey’s shoulder. He kept a firm grip on her arms to help support her and keep her looking at him.. and to prevent her seeing Angel still standing just inside the doorway. “T-that’s the problem. I know their past. And it’s s-suppose to be that.. past! So why was he with her now?”
“Honey, there are a lot of reasons and it can all be explained in a little bit, but you gotta look inside, Cordy. Why are YOU so upset about it? You know we could’ve taken care of his soul if we had to… So what’s really wrong, Hon?”
“Oh, Lindsey… I never thought it would happen. I know better. I know all the bad reasons… Like I said, I know their past. I know what Angel can become… But…” Her voice fell to a bare whisper of sound. Lindsey knew that Angel would still be able to hear her too. “Suddenly, I wanted to be in her place. I wanted him to be with me, to want to be with me… I can’t love him, Lindsey! I know the million-and-one reasons that I can’t love him…”
Lindsey looked finally from Angel into Cordelia’s stricken, tear-streaked face, his own full of compassion for how she felt. He felt his own chest constrict deep inside, as he knew what he had to ask her.
“You know all the reasons why you shouldn’t, but you love him anyway. Right?”
“Yeah. I’m in love with Angel. What am I going to do, Lindsey?”
“Talk to him about it, Cordy.”
“I can’t! I can’t tell him at all.”
“Cordy, he already knows. He walked in while we were talking.”
Shock, surprise, anger filled her face. “No!”
Angel had quietly stepped behind her during Lindsey’s confession about his presence. The dark-haired vampire took one more step, then scooped the tearful brunette up in his arms, leaving Lindsey to quietly exit the room, his own heart heavy. “Cordy, I’m sorry I upset you. Can let me try to explain? There really are a lot of complicated reasons for what happened. Then we can ask Lindsey to come back and help fill in any gaps in what I know or remember? But first I want to talk to you alone.”
“Okay, I’ll listen to what you have to say, but don’t expect me to not be upset with you afterwards.”
“Fair enough. Just other thing before we talk…” Before she could ask what it was, Angel dipped his head slightly to kiss her, his mouth taking possession of hers as he held her like a child in his arms; her own arms wrapped now around his neck.
~*~
Giles entered the Council house, heading up the stairs to the assistant’s office. Melford answered with a deep-voiced request to enter, at the sound of Giles’ knock on the office door.
“It’s good to see you, Mr. Giles. I’m glad you could make it back so quickly. Have a seat please. Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Thank you and yes, that would be pleasant. So tell me exactly what happened. How did Travers get turned? Why didn’t someone handle that problem before he rose?”
Melford had rung down to the kitchen for a pot of tea with accoutrements as Giles had settled in the chair across Melford. It was an older chair, like so many things in the Council house, but was well made, deeply cushioned, covered with buttery soft, dark burgundy leather. Giles waited for Melford to settle and start explaining what had been happening here.
Melford didn’t settle, but instead, paced back and forth behind his desk as he waited for the tea to arrive. “If we might, Mr. Giles, let’s wait for the tea so we’re not interrupted. There are certain things we’d prefer to not have bantered about in the servants quarters; I’m sure you understand.”
“Quite. It’s fine to wait a few moments, and make it Rupert, please.”
“Thank you. Mine’s Paul, in case you’d forgotten.” With his words, Paul Melford crossed his office to open the door in response to the knock and clink of crockery. He stood back, allowing the man to bring in a small folding table and a large tea tray. Once the tray was set up, the man left the room. Paul closed the door behind him and turned to the task of serving the tea.
Finally, as both men sat with cup of tea at hand and a small plate of sandwiches, the assistant head of the Council began his tale. “Some of the others, the older Watchers, were aware of the, ah, shall we say, ‘dislike’, that Quentin held for Miss Summers.”
Giles took a sip of tea before setting the cup back into the saucer. “I suspect the word you’re looking for is hatred. And which Ms. Summers?”
“Both of them, unfortunately. The first trip to the States for Buffy’s testing at her eighteenth birthday was the beginning of it, but the last trip over, what with Glory and all… Well, that pretty much iced the cake, as it were. Some of the younger Watchers spoke up in favor of Ms. Summers, but after the first couple of occasions, her supporters disappeared and no one dared again. We now suspect that those unfortunates became some of the vampires Quentin housed in the dungeon.”
Giles leaved forward to give emphasis to his words. “What exactly was he doing with vampires in the dungeon? Buffy has been past eighteen for quite some time. Faith’s been older than eighteen for a couple of years as well and was never tested. So why the vampires?”
“We… we don’t know. Quentin had his own agenda that he’d not shared with anyone. I was sorry to hear about Faith. The girl had a rather checkered past, it’s true, yet she hardly deserved that.”
“The ‘girl’ as you put it, had never received any sort of kindness or sympathy from this Council, so why start now? I also assume you have the reports of how she was killed; I should like to see those a bit later. Do go on.”
“Ah… Yes. Well, it seems that Quentin disappeared for several hours that last evening. He’d had quite a few calls on his private line and we were all instructed that if anyone called for him at all, no one was to question who they were, but to simply get the call to him without fail. He had a call immediately before he walked out of the house, a bottle of port in hand. One man thought he’d seen Quentin walk around the back of the house, but he disappeared, and the man didn’t pursue it. Actually I don’t blame him… If you’d known what Quentin’s temper was like…”
“Oh, rest assured, I’m familiar with his temper. I felt the brunt of it often enough when I was training and then once I’d been assigned to Ms. Summers. I was discovering that everything we’d been taught wasn’t necessarily true. Black and white weren’t the only colors in the demon or even the vampire world and while ‘happily ever after’ is rare, it can happen, at least for a while. Quentin had a great many problems with those concepts and I’m sure there were several blistered telephone lines between here and Sunnydale on the few occasions we had to call him.”
“Some of us had heard the stories being circulated about Ms. Summers and her vampire ‘lover’.”
Melford’s opinion was plain, as the man almost spit the words out of his mouth as though they had a bad taste.
“Contrary to what you may have heard or were taught or believe, that same vampire ‘lover’ was an enormous help to us on more occasions than one and has been instrumental in keeping Ms. Summers alive numerous times.”
“Even though disgraceful actions on her part released Angelus on the face of the earth again…”
Had Melford actually known Giles well, the man would have ceased his comments much sooner and would never have uttered any more. The softened, mild quality of Rupert Giles’ voice was warning enough to everyone who knew him. “Yes, it did. Buffy paid dearly for the outcome of what had been an innocent action on her part, and ultimately his soul was restored.”
“Not before he killed your girlfriend, I believe. Tucked her up nice and cozy in your bed to find?”
Melford actually allowed the smirk to show on his face.
It quickly vanished as Giles lunged across the desk to grab the man by his lapels with both hands, as he pulled Melford partially back across the desk. Giles spoke very softly and very calmly. “Yes, he did, and you’ll never speak of it or of her again or I shall strangle you where you sit. Ms. Calendar lost her life trying to make up for the incredible damage her clan had set into motion with the curse on Angel’s soul. Buffy didn’t know about it, Angel didn’t know about it, even Ms. Calendar, who was a member of the Kalderash, didn’t know of the ‘catch’ the gypsies had included with the curse.
It was a terrible action that took the innocence of my Slayer, yes, but it wasn’t the act of making love to Angel that took it. You see, Jenny had already translated the ritual to restore his soul when Angelus killed her. However, one of Buffy’s young friends, a witch of no small power, completed that ritual successfully. Still, the portal had opened and Buffy had to close it. In doing so, she deliberately sent her lover into Hell… with his soul restored.” Giles finally released the man, allowing him to drop back into his chair before resuming his own to casually pick up his cup for another sip of tea. “It’d be best if you’d not disparage people I care about or discuss things you have no true knowledge of.
Now let us get on with remainder of the necessary information before I officially take over as Acting Head of the Watcher’s Council.”
The statement was full of warning, and the reminder that Rupert Giles would be Paul Melford’s superior.
~*~
Dawn, Wesley and Faith had trained in the workroom of the Crawford mansion for several hours that afternoon after Dawn had gotten in from school.
Actually, it was Dawn and Wesley that trained while Faith simply wandered around tossing out tips, suggestions or simply kibitzing.
“Faith, can’t you at least be quiet if you can’t be useful?” Wesley was tired, his ribs bruised and Dawn had gotten him once across the jaw, splitting the edge of his lip. He had called a break and was holding an ice pack on the swollen area.
“Wes, your face always did bruise so easy. It’s such a shame too, cause it’s a nice face, ya know?”
Faith was thoughtful as she gazed at the younger Watcher.
“I’m rather fond of it, being the only one I have.”
“Tell ya what. Take a break Wes and let me try something with Dawnie here.” The brunette ghost wandered over toward where Dawn stood, drinking a protein shake that Wesley had insisted on. “Dawnie, you’ve seen ‘B’ do that tai chi stuff right? She used to do that with Angel all the time.”
Unsure of where the ghost was leading the conversation, Dawn answered hesitantly. “Yeah, I’ve seen her do that. She and Spike train that way too sometimes.”
“Okay, here’s what I want to do…” Faith spent the next several minutes outlining her idea.
“That sounds pretty cool. Can we use some music too?”
“Sure. Good idea, Dawnie. It’ll help us stay in rhythm the first few times.” Faith watched as Dawn picked a CD from the stack Wesley had brought with him from L.A. She found something that she thought would be appropriate for the slow graceful moves she’d seen Buffy do sometimes. Putting the CD in the player, she hit the ‘play’ button then moved to stand in front of Faith.
The previous Slayer started working through an excruciatingly slow series of moves, Dawn mirroring her every motion. The young Slayer found it was much harder than it had looked to keep the movements slow, even, smooth and before too many minutes, her now trembling muscles were ready to scream at her.
“Burning yet?”
Dawn answered in the affirmative, keeping part of her mind completely on her motions. Faith took the next set a bit faster. They were still slow and graceful, but no longer as slow as frozen syrup trying to run from a bottle.
They were halfway through the second set for the second time, when Buffy and Spike came in.
Buffy saw what the two Slayers were doing, squeezed Spike’s hand before releasing it, then moved into position beside Faith, opposite Dawn. Spike moved to the place next to Dawn and opposite Buffy as the two blondes entered into the slow, deadly dance.
Wesley watched the four of them in amazement as they glided in unison, working together as a smoothly oiled machine, each one fitting the other three pieces. When the three corporeal ones finally took a break, Wesley was moved to exclaim about what he’d seen. “That was actually beautiful. A wonderful idea, Faith. Thank you for joining them, Buffy, Spike. I could see Dawn improve with each new kata she worked through. It was quite beautiful… Each of you looked like something who’d kill someone as soon as kiss them, or more likely kill them instead of kissing them.”
Wesley turned his attention directly to Faith for a few moments. “Faith, I’m sorry that I never got to actually work with you back then… Oh, I know I was supposed to be your Watcher as well, but I was untrained; you were always angry, and I realize now, scared. Your movements were beautiful.”
“Thanks, Wes. Can’t take credit for all of it though. Angel worked with me some in L.A. before I went to jail. Then he’d come on visiting days sometimes and we’d manage to get permission to use the gym… You know, keeping him out of the sun and all. And he’d work out with me like that. It was fun, gave me something to do. He said it’d keep me limber.”
“Easy to see that he worked with you as well as Buffy. Always did have a distinct style. Now you and Buffy have that same edge to your movements that he has.” Spike remarked, giving his own observations as he lit a cigarette.
“So you guys wanna come patrollin’ with me and Wes and Dawnie tonight? Be kinda cool, ya know? Kinda like old times, ‘B’, but without the fightin’ between us.” Faith grinned impudently at the blonde Slayer.
“Sure. Be fun.” Buffy turned to look at Spike, “Wanna go with us?”
Arrangements were soon settled for later that evening, then Spike and Buffy headed home to handle some household chores, make dinner, get in a quick shag….
~*~
Willow found the small, quaint shop as easily as Giles said it would be to locate. The bell over the door tinkled lightly as she entered, reminding her a bit of the Magick Box.
Gazing around the small store at the well-stocked shelves, Willow thought how Tara would have liked to see it and felt a pang of loss tighten her chest. Taking a few deep breaths and deliberately trying to center herself, she felt the muscles of her chest relax as the tension flowed out of her, back into the earth beneath the well-waxed boards of the floor.
“That was well done, lovie. I see ye’re nae an amateur to the Path. How can I be helpin’ ye today?”
The woman was older than Giles seemed to be, yet very spry and quick. Her lined face was animated, in constant motion, which made her appear younger than Willow thought she might be. The woman was short, shorter than Willow, with reddish blonde hair that could only be called amber. The thick, tumbled mane was liberally streaked through with a pure, crisp white. She wore a loose flowing robe of leaf green, and the twinkling eyes that gazed out of that wise-looking face were the shade of lilacs in bloom.
“Oh, my! I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare, but your looks are so startling. I mean they’re beautiful, but unusual.” Willow realized how her words might have sounded and tried to correct herself. “I mean, it’s not that I’m trying to be rude or make a pass or anything… Ah, can we try this again? I’m making a mess of things. I’m Willow Rosenberg.”
The woman laughed, a full-throated sound that swept through the small space, wrapping around Willow like a cat stropping himself against her ankles. “Ay, and who else would ye be bein’ with that hair an’ yankee accent. Ye must be the new lassie come from the States with Mr. Giles. ‘Tis welcome ye are.”
“Ah, yeah. You know Giles? He said this was the shop he used to purchase supplies, and we kinda needed to ward my room when he gets in tonight. I had some pretty nasty dreams last night.”
“Well, let me see tha’ list he sent with you. I know Mr. Giles and his lists… Tell me about tha’ dream what troubled you whilst I look this over.”
Willow felt as comfortable with this woman as she did with Giles for some reason and found herself telling the shopkeeper about the horrible dream.
“Och! ‘Tis nae wonder ye’r frightened of it. Any sensible body would’a been. Let’s see… we'll strike off this mugwort and add a bit o’ hyssop and rose geranium instead. Ye’ll be a’wanting a few candles as well. I think a blue, green, yellow, pink, two white and a black. Oh, and my name’s Angie.”
“Nice to meet you, Angie. Why so many candles?”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, m’girl. Did ye nae think I could see the grief hanging around ye like a worn dress? Ye lost someone special recently… “ Angie squinted slightly, looking to one side of Willow. The redhead was tempted to turn to see who was standing next to her, when the woman continued, “…But ye’ll get past it as time will do. There’s someone special who’ll be there for ye when the time comes, lovie. Let’s gather ye’r items here then sit a moment to have a cuppa with me, if’n ye would.”
“I’d love to, Angie. It’d be kinda nice to talk to another woman about some things.”
With a knowing look at Willow, Angie helped her fill a small wicker basket with her items. The woman bundled them up, added them to Giles’ shop tab and bustled Willow off to the back corner of the shop where they had a pot of strawberry-vanilla tea and chatted like old friends for the next hour.
~*~
‘You know that silence is loud when all you hear is your heart
“..so that’s what happened, Cordelia. I hope you understand a bit better now. It wasn’t just our past. What you don’t know is that when I think about someone by my side, someone I can count on, someone I share things with; you’re always that person now. You’ve become a part of my life that I’m not willing to give up.”
“Angel… Even if you loved me, especially if you loved me, we’d still have the same problems you had with Buffy. You’re just lucky that you were feeling so guilty you kept your soul. If we were together, you’d have no reason to feel that guilt and you know what we’d run the risk of… I love you, Angel, but I’m not gonna be a midnight snack for you when you get a bit too much ‘happy’.”
“I know, Cordy, I know.” Angel stared morosely at the floor for a long minute before he made a quick decision. Looking back at the brunette sitting across from him, he took her hand between his. “I’m going to have to go away for a few days, Cordy. I’m not gonna be in Sunnydale or anywhere close to Buffy, so you don’t need to worry. I don’t know if I have an answer for this problem or not, but I’m going to find out. Can you and Lindsey handle things while I’m gone?”
“Yes, but where…”
“Please don’t ask me. I’ll be okay. Just trust me Cordy.”
“Alright. But this had better be worth it, Mister.”
“I certainly hope it will be.” Angel stood up, still holding her hand as he drew her toward him around the desk. Stepping into the tall brunette, he wrapped his arms around her as he tilted his head, covering her lips with his own, tongue exploring her mouth, drinking in the taste of her like a fine wine, or rare nectar. When the dark-haired vampire finally released her, Cordelia was breathless and he felt almost a bit giddy himself. She leaned her head on his shoulder, arms still wrapped around his waist. “Let’s go find Lindsey and tell him I’m going to try and handle this problem and he needs to take good care of you while I’m gone.”
“Let Lindsey wait just a minute longer.” Cordelia pulled his head back down to hers, pressing her lips against Angel’s once more as she pressed her body close enough to his to tell that he was very happy to be kissing her. Breaking the kiss abruptly, Cordelia knew she had to get away before she pushed him onto the desktop and begged him to simply take her. “Go. Go now, Angel. Go fix this before I get both of us in trouble.”
~*~
The sun had set only moments earlier when the group finally finished dinner, cleaned up then set out to patrol for the evening. It was a fairly uneventful evening with Faith, Buffy and Spike offering suggestions and tips to Wesley and Dawn. The young Slayer glaring at the three ‘helpers’ and Wesley muttering terse comments under his breath about various tortures he’d like to inflict on the ‘helpers’ for their annoying ‘help’.
On the one occasion when Dawn was clearly out-matched, Buffy and Spike did jump into the fray; quickly dispatching the obstinate demon in question then resumed their suggestions from the sidelines.
The assortment of Slayers, Watcher, Ghost and Vampire had been on patrol for better than an hour when the attack came.
Walking past a previously surveyed crypt, the Slayer team, as Faith had dubbed them, saw a couple of vampires. The two vamps turned in seconds to a dozen and moments later into even more vampires.
Unable to assist in the actual fighting, Faith kept lookout and called warnings constantly to the remaining four as they fought the horde of vampires.
Buffy and Spike made reasonably quick dust of the vampires they fought, trying to whittle the numbers down and protect Dawn as well as Wesley, who were making an awful lot of dust themselves.
“Hey B! Save one to question. They don’t usually act like this, ya know.” Faith called to the blonde as the vampire numbers were down again to just a couple.
“Good idea!” Buffy pulled up short on the deadly strike of the stake she held, skewering the vampire in the shoulder instead of the heart. He went down in a heap, still attempting to pull her with him.
Spike caught him by the arm and slung him into the nearest headstone, knocking the unknown vampire unconscious. “That will hold him for a moment while we tie him up. Everybody alright?”
Hearing affirmatives behind them, Spike tugged his belt from the top of his pants, handing it to Buffy as she looped it, then tugged it tightly around the unconscious vamps wrists before pulling his ankles upward behind his back to securely ‘hog-tie’ him.
Buffy glanced at Spike as they both took a seat on the ground. Wesley was leaning on a tree next to Dawn as the Watcher dabbed at a shallow cut over one eye and caught his breath. Dawn stood, arms crossed as she too waited for the lone vampire to regain consciousness so they could question him.
Fortunately it wasn’t a long wait.
“Hey! What’ve you done to me? You’re cutting’ off my circulation here.”
“Great, just what we needed to top off the night, a whining vampire. Shut up, you. You don’t have circulation to cut off. We’ve got questions and want answers.” Dawn told the vampire as he tried to look pitiful, tied up as he was on the ground.
“Why should I tell you anything? If he finds out, he’ll kill me.”
“And you think we’re gonna do what, exactly? Throw you a party?”
“If you kill me you’ll never find out anything, so as long as I refuse to talk, I get to live.”
Buffy stood during the exchange between Dawn and the vampire. Spike did the same and walked behind her to the other side of the vamp. Reaching down to gather his shirt front in her hands, Buffy picked the demon-faced man up, dangling him in the air in front of her as she deliberately let the new change transfigure her face and teeth. Feeling the sharpened edges with her tongue, then the quick slight coppery taste as she nicked her own tongue, Buffy turned her head slightly to whisper over her shoulder to Spike.
“You have a set sharper than this, how do you manage to not slice your tongue to ribbons all the time?”
“Practice, love.”
“Hhmmmm.” Buffy turned back to the dangling vampire, grinning slowly to draw his attention to her newly sharpened set of pearly whites. “We won’t throw you a party, but we might have a party with you as the ‘favor’ if you don’t tell us what we want to know. I can promise you that you won’t enjoy a minute of it either. You’d be surprised what I’ve learned over the years as a Slayer about what will hurt but not kill a vampire. Spike and Angel… you DO know Angel, don’t you?”
The vampire tried frantically to nod, unable to take his eyes from the set of sharp-edged teeth showing between the blonde Slayer’s pink tinted lips. “Good. Then I know you’ll understand when I tell you that Spike and Angel taught me even more ‘goodies’ to do to vampires that won’t kill them. Do you know the one about the red-hot pokers? No? I can teach you…” Buffy drew the last sentence out seductively as her prey twitched more frantically in her grasp.
“N-n-no! I’ll talk. Just promise me a quick death afterwards!”
Seeing a fine trembling cross the muscles in Buffy’s back, Spike took the burden of the vampire, dropping him back to the ground before he could realize the strain of holding him at arms length was finally telling on the Slayer’s body. “Right, mate. So start singing. Who sent you and your dusty group of friends after the Slayer?”
“Travers. Quentin Travers. He’s the new power over in England. A few new guys showed up a few nights ago. They were gathering up everyone they could find to help them.”
“Exactly how did they convince you to help and what did they need help doing?” Buffy crouched in front of him, twisting the now torn front of the vampire’s shirt in her hand, as if she were doing so absent-mindedly.
“They-they promised us the same kinda ‘fun’ you just did. What’s wrong with your face, Slayer? I mean, you’re not a vampire, but you’ve changed!”
“You mean this?” Buffy waved her free hand beside her face. “Nothing much. It just seems that if we Slayers do this long enough, then we start to get a bit different when we get angry. I notice you didn’t answer the rest of the question.” She leaned toward him, catching an earlobe between her lips very gently, sucking it into her mouth just before she sank her teeth into it, piercing his ear for him. The vampire let out a squalling yowl of pain as Buffy turned to spit on the ground. “Eeewww! Don’t you guys ever think of bathing? I’m waiting for an answer….”
“Yeah, we think of it, but can’t always find a shower we can use.” The bound, bitten vampire tried frantically to explain.
Buffy dropped back down to a seat on the ground, looking up at Spike. “He’s about as bright as a box of rocks. Maybe you can get the right answer out of him.” She turned to glare for a moment at Dawn and Wesley, both trying to not laugh.
Spike stooped to rest on his haunches opposite Buffy, effectively sandwiching the vampire.
Reaching out with a single fingertip, he drew it down the side of the vampire’s face, leaving a thin red line of blood as the sharp nail sliced the skin. “We want to know what Quentin Travers wanted you to do for him, idiot.”
“O-okay! Stop! It hurts! I’ll tell you! Just don’t cut or bite me any more, please!”
“Lord, what a poof the soddin’ git is!” Even Wesley was amazed at the squeamishness of the captured vampire.
“Hey, that was good Wes! And yeah, what a wimp!” Faith had wandered over to stand next to Wesley and Dawn as she watched this new Buffy and Spike in action.
“He… Travers… wanted us to all attack you. All of you. He wanted us to capture that new Slayer. They said she was gonna be shipped back to England to Travers. He just wanted us to kill whatever vampire you was with and you. We was suppose to turn the Watcher and send him back too.”
“How were they going to get them back to England?” Buffy’s angry tone was as sharp-edged as her teeth.
“I don’t know. They didn’t tell us that. The English guys… they was gonna handle that part once we’d done the rest. But they’re dead now too. You killed them so nobody knows. I did hear them say something about a dock in L.A. That’s all I know! Honest!”
Buffy thought for a moment, then looked toward Spike as she softly told him, “Untie him and let him go.”
“Are you sure, Buffy?”
“Yeah. I’ll explain later.”
Spike did as she had requested and untied the whimpering demon, pulling him to his feet, as he got almost nose-to-nose with the smelly, bleeding excuse of vampire. “You’d better run and run fast. If I see you again, you’ll be fittin’ in the first ashtray I can find. Got it? Don’t come near the Slayers or Watcher or any of their friends or me. You know who my sire is. You know what I’ll do.”
“Y-yes, Master Spike. I promise” The vampire turned as quickly as Spike released him and ran. He was still running when he finally disappeared from sight.
The Slayer gang looked one to the other, as they weakly started to laugh.
“That was great!” “Where did you get such an idea?” “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a vampire so scared!” “How could you bite him?!”
But Spike had the serious question. “Why did you let him go, Buffy?”
“I wanted him to go back and tell the others how I’m different now, cause I’m sure there are still more in this plot. I want him to let them know what we’ll do to them if they try to hurt Dawn or Wesley again. I want them to know to stay away from you too.” Sighing as weariness suddenly swept across her like a clammy blanket, Buffy looked at Faith. “I want to get word to the gang in LA so they can try and find the ship or boat or whatever. I’m betting one of the ones here heads that way. Can you let them know, Faith?”
“I wish I could, B. But I’ve got to stay with Dawn and Wes here. Besides, there’s no guarantee that anyone there could see me, ya know?”
“Buffy, I’ll call Cordelia as soon as we return to your house, if that’s alright with you?”
“Sure, Wes. Probably faster anyway. It’s okay, Faith. I just thought maybe Angel would like to talk with you.” Buffy turned to take Spike’s hand. “Let’s go home. I’m really tired all of the sudden.”
“Right you are, love. Want me to carry you?”
“Only if you want to limp for the rest of your unlife, fang-boy.”
“Limpin’ it is then.” Spike grinned as he scooped her up in his arms and headed toward home, her head nestled into the curve of his neck.
~*~
Giles finally met with the remainder of the Council officials and had been sworn in as the Acting Head of the Watcher’s Council. His first act was assigning a task force to track Travers down. He cautioned the men not to try and take Travers or try to kill him, just report back with the vampire’s location.
His second act was to slip quietly upstairs to Quentin Travers private quarters, locking the door behind him as he started a search of the room.
After an hour and a half, Giles was edgy, frustrated and almost at his wits end. He was no closer to finding the cache of books he knew were somewhere in the room than he’d been when he first locked the door behind him.
Taking a seat in the over-stuffed chair at the desk in the corner of the room, Giles searched the room with his eyes, while his mind twisted, seeking out every scrap of information he could remember about anything that might give him a clue as to where the books were hidden.
Seeing nothing that seemed out of place, Giles stood, and began to examine the desk itself, hoping desperately for a clue of some kind.
On the left hand side of the expanse of softly gleaming wood, a tarnished silver pen set rested. Giles lifted one of the pens from its holder, making sure it actually wrote.
It did.
Replacing the pen, he lifted the second one, only to find that it too was fully functional.
Placing it back in its holder, the small, swiveled holder did what it was designed to do and swiveled out of place, further frustrating the searching Watcher.
Reaching to reposition the small hollow bit of silver for the sake or orderliness, Giles heard a faint grating sound as the bit of metal shifted.
Breath quickening, Giles slowly twisted the penholder back toward the wall. As it moved, so did a section of the wall, directly above the desk. Tucked inside the hidden bookcase were about a dozen old, dusty, tattered books of assorted size and thickness.
Glancing about for something to hold the books, the new Head Watcher swiftly pulled the pillow from beneath the neatly made covers of the bed and stripped the case from the feather-stuffed plush-ness. Dropping the case on the floor, he tucked the naked pillow back under the covers, folding them under the mattress, erasing all sign of disturbance.
Catching up the case from the floor, Giles stepped back to the hidden bookcase and gently began placing the old and fragile books inside the cloth carrier. Working swiftly, he only glanced at the titles while transferring the items to the waiting pillowcase. A small red book, with a name impressed in faded gold, caught his attention. Even thought it was faded, Giles could clearly make out the name Julius Bryce. Feeling a moment of excitement, he tucked the small book into the inner coat pocket of his jacket, instead of placing this one in the pillowcase with the rest.
With it safely hidden for the moment, he claimed the remaining two books, adding them to the small pile in the cloth case. Moments later, he shifted the pen holder back to its original position, watching the retracted cover slide out of the wall, hiding the opening again as if it had never existed.
Giles picked up his cloth bag of ‘loot’ and unlocking the door; he flicked off the light switch. He exited the room and pulled the door tightly shut behind him before he walked down the hallway to the stairs, to his car and then to his flat. He wanted to get there as quickly as possible with what he carried.
Settling into the seat of the car and turning the ignition, Giles ferverently hoped Willow had found the shop and picked up supplies. Before he could read the book currently nestled in his jacket, he knew he had to ward not only her room, but also the entire flat, reinforcing every bit of magickal security on the place.
~*~
Angel stepped into the small room of the old house. It was in one of the oldest sections of Los Angles; boarded up, over grown and had the look of a building years deserted.
Angel knew otherwise.
From below his feet, he heard the sounds of movement as the Kalderash vampires in LA climbed the hidden stairs to meet him; the meeting he’d requested of them.
The door opened on well-oiled hinges to reveal a tall, thin man with the curving hook of nose Angel remembered on many of the Romany men of a hundred years ago. “You are Angel, yes?”
“I am.”
“Good, good. The Elders wait for you below. Follow me please.” He turned back into the stygian darkness of the staircase, following it into the depths under the old house.
Angel followed the man, bumping into him as he stopped.
Vampiric senses not withstanding, Angel couldn’t see a thing in the thick velvet darkness that wrapped around him. Finally standing still, he could sense the wall in front of his guide, but then was momentarily blinded as the man opened a door, flooding the landing with light from an inner room.
The corridor ahead of him appeared to have been carved from the living rock beneath the city, as it stretched ahead several yards before curving around a corner. The walls were studded with old, rusted brackets that held gently sizzling torches.
The light didn’t seem nearly as bright after a few moments and Angel’s guide nodded slightly then turned away, heading down the corridor.
After several minutes of travel and various twisting corridors, all of which looked alike, the man stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, studded with rusted metal points that matched the heavy wrought hinges. “The Elders await you here. I shall return when you are ready to depart.”
The man seemed to just simply vanish several feet from the dark-haired vampire.
Hmmmm, must have stepped into a side tunnel…
Angel gently knocked at the heavy door before grasping the handle, twisted in intricate designs beneath its patina of rust. Inside the room, several older appearing men and women sat behind a rough table. More torches illuminated the room, showing the vampire a small chair between himself and the table.
“Come in, Angelus. Tell us why you have requested this meeting with us after these many years. Sit, child.”
Angel tried not to stare as he settled carefully into the chair, putting him directly opposite the older woman. “Ah, I’m don’t really go by ‘Angelus’ any longer. I’m known as Angel now. Thank you for seeing me.”
“And were you also known as ‘Angel’ when you killed our Janna?” The question was asked by a heavily mustached man, dressed in the fashion the Romany had favored over a hundred years previous.
“Ah… No. And I don’t know how to apologize enough for what I did then. I wasn’t… I wasn’t the person I’ve been for the last hundred years.” He sat quietly, unsure of what to expect, unsure if he should even voice his request, having been reminded of Jenny Calendar almost immediately by these Elders.
“Hush, Enois. We know the circumstances. That you disagree is of no matter.” The woman chided the man before she turned back to Angel. “What would you of us, Angel?”
“I, ah… I’m not sure what to say now. I had a request but perhaps I should apologize for taking your time and leave instead.”
“No! Do not pay attention to Enois. We know of your actions, the circumstances, the results. There is much we know of you, vampire; and little that we do not know; however there is much that YOU do not know. Make your request and perhaps we shall share our information with you.”
“Ah… Okay. I’d really like to apologize for what happened with Jenny and her uncle, as well as what I did so long ago. I’m really sorry. I know that doesn’t mean much, considering my actions, but I’ve tried to atone for it. I know you may feel that the request I want to make is very selfish of me, but I’d still like to…”
The elderly woman simply nodded, acknowledging his words as well as letting him know he should continue.
“What I wanted to ask was is there a way to remove the clause from my soul. I-I feel like I’ve been doing all I can to try and help make a difference in the world and I’d like to simply have a normal relationship with someone without endangering those around me.”
The old woman smiled at him through darkly stained teeth. The man she’d named Enois frowned, yet said nothing. The remaining three people at the table simply watched as they had been, still saying not a word. “Ahhhh! We wondered how long it would take for you to ask this of us once you knew of the curse. It speaks well of you to have knowingly borne it for this long. Before I give you an answer to your request, let me tell you some of what we have held so closely to our bosom.
“Elani, who cursed you so many years ago, took it upon herself to change the ritual that brings the soul to the undead. There has been much disagreement among the Kalderash these many years as to her right to do so, but it was accepted as the blood-debt. For Yonda, the girl you killed, was her favorite niece.
Many thought you should at least know of the danger to your soul that lurked within you, yet none spoke. We know of the night shared between you and the Slayer. Yet it was not she that caused the spell to rip your soul from you. It was simply a moment of true happiness you experienced with her. You could have had the same moment with the taste of one of your ice cream sundaes, had that moment happened.
This is why many of us felt it too dangerous to alter the ritual in such a way. We have members of our clan, as you discovered, who are also vampires. Just as Yanni and Yanose are, just as the one you met in Sunnydale, just as we are.”
She waited while the import of what she had uttered, sank into Angel’s mind before she continued. The vampire’s look of shock had been the reaction she had sought.
“When Janna recovered the ritual and translated it, she used the original. The one without the curse in it. So when the little witch did the ritual, she gave you back a soul but it has no curse included with it. You are free to seek happiness if you desire. We know of the things you do, the things foretold of you in the prophecies. We saw in the stars when your path changed from what had been to what is now, after you again became Angelus.
So I would say to you, continue to walk the path of the light. Allow your Seer to walk that path with you, for the path of the Slayer now marches with another… Another vampire with a soul. You know of whom we speak. He is your childe no matter who had the siring of him.”
The woman stood up from her chair, bracing both hands against the table as she leaned toward Angel. “Your son will be restored in the days to come as well, yet that path shall not be smooth. All children are worthwhile though, are they not? You shall learn. All shall be well. Do not seek us out again, Angel. We shall contact you if there be need, but you will not find us again.”
“T-thank you. I don’t know what to say to all you’ve told me…”
“Say nothing, except to those who matter. Your guide awaits you.”
Angel whirled in his seat to find the thin man standing behind him, although the vampire had heard no sound at all. Turning back toward the table to rise from the chair, he was amazed to see no one across the expanse of wood. Again, there had been no sound. Shaking himself slightly, Angel stood and stepped away from the chair to face the waiting guide. “I’m ready. Thank you. How do they DO that?”
The man’s only answer was a slight enigmatic smile before he turned to lead Angel through the twisting mass of corridors.
~*~
The bedraggled vampire rushed into the building, hurrying across the rooms and through doors until he reached the innermost one.
Seated at a rickety table was a man impeccably dressed, reading the daily news by lamplight. Hearing the clatter of the entering vampire, the man looked up, a sneer of distain on his face.
“What exactly is the reason you present yourself to me like the uncouth menial you are?” Travers’ gaze rested unerringly on the begrimed cap that only partially covered the vampire’s greasy hair.
Snatching the offending cap from his head and trying to get himself under control and knowing how unwelcome his news was going to be, the vampire took a deep and un-needed breath. “Sor’.. We got word from the States…. T-they failed, sor’.” The vampire ducked his head, cowering in the dirt on the floor at the man’s feet. “Please don’t punish me, sor’! I’s just the messeng’r!”
“I understand that you’re the messenger. Get up and at least act like a man. What happened? How did they fail?”
The miserable vampire stood twisting his cap in both hands as he faced Quentin, explaining the information that had been sent earlier that day to a distant safe house. “… and he said she bit him! But then let him go…”
“Hmmmm. It’s obvious she wanted him to get the message back to me, just as he’s done.” Travers stood suddenly, dropping his newspaper on the table. “I’ve heard of this happening once before, I think.
We have to get into the Watcher’s keep tonight. There are things from my room that I need. Go get the rest of your scruffy companions together. I’ll need to give them instructions on the diversion I need so I can get inside.”
Thankful to possess his unlife for at least a few moments longer, the anxious vampire hurried to do as he’d been told.
~*~
Giles entered his flat, closing the door carefully behind him as he glanced around, checking whether or not Willow had returned from the magick shop. He heard muted noise from the kitchen and hoped it was her. To be on the safe side, he hurried through the flat to his room, stowing the cache of books in the floor of his wardrobe before heading to the small kitchen.
“Oh, hi Giles. I thought I heard you come in. Have a good day?” Willow had a linen towel tucked into her belt as she stirred something on the stove in a large pot. “I made you a pot of tea. I just hope I did it right. I’ll have dinner ready in a few minutes.”
“Willow... You don’t have to do this.”
“Oh, I know, Giles. But after I got back from the shop, I was in a really good mood and just felt like making dinner. It’s not anything special, just spaghetti and a salad.”
“Well, that sounds quite good. I’ve not stopped for anything since an early tea at the Council. I take it you found the shop without difficulty then?”
“Oh yeah! Angie was just the greatest person! I love her accent! She helped me get the stuff together, although she did change one or two things… But she also made a pot of tea and insisted that I sit and talk with her a while. She was just so interesting!”
“It sounds as if you certainly had a day of it then. Yes, she is quite nice and I know she gets somewhat bored at the shop all day… Accent? She has a very slight one, but nothing of comment, Willow.”
Giles looked perplexed.
Willow adored his accent as well and knew that was why he’d never noticed Angie’s. She simply smiled at him as she remarked, “I know it’s just my ‘yankee’ ears, Giles. I put the basket of stuff on the coffee table if you wanna look over it while I finish dinner.”
“Ah, yes. I’ll do that. I have some papers to go over tonight so we need to do the warding as soon as possible.”
“Ummm! Let me get this finished, then I can cover everything while we start the work. You know we don’t want to eat until afterwards.” Willow lifted the large pot from the burner, draining it in the sink before running cold water over the noodles, draining them again and covering them.
She pulled the towel away from her waist, folding it on the small counter.
“I know things are going to get cooled off while we do this, but why did you hurry the process with the cold water on the pasta?”
“Oh, it’s a trick Joyce… Ms. Summers’ showed me once. It stops the cooking so your noodles don’t get all mushy. We ready?”
“Oh. Oh, well, that makes sense. Yes, let’s check what we have, especially since Angie felt free to substitute.”
Witch and Watcher moved into the living room and began pulling waxed paper twists of herbs from the basket. Willow had already removed the candles and set them into holders in the room she was using. She’d anointed and blessed each of them as Angie had suggested, so as soon as the warding was done, she could simply light the candles and allow them to do their work. As Giles looked at the sales slip, she explained the candles to him and surprisingly, he thoroughly approved the idea.
Guiding Willow through the preparations for the coming ritual, they quickly had all ready.
As one, Giles and Willow moved through the steps of the warding, each lending energy and support to the other. Each adding their own energy to the shields they placed.
Half an hour or so later, they had finally finished. Each went to their separate room to change. While there, Willow also said the quick invocations over the various candles, lighting them with the small, pure white beeswax taper.
She quickly changed and washed her hands, heading back to the kitchen to warm up the dinner she’d prepared, while Giles laid out two places at the table in the wonderfully windowed nook.
~*~
Quentin slipped quickly into the door of his now deserted room, reaching for the switch of the small lamp on the table next to the doorway. As the dim light cast enormous shadows across the expanse of the room, the vampire turned immediately to his desk, moving the specific pen into a new position in its holder.
The wall grated slightly as the hidden compartment opened.
Rage rose like a thick red mist behind his eyes, filling his throat with the sour, bitter taste of defeat when he saw the hidden bookcase was empty. Clenching his hands into fists so tight he felt his nails cut semi-circular marks, Quentin struggled to not give into the anger filling him. He knew he had to keep quiet to make good his exit from the building housing the group of second most dangerous people to him, the Watchers.
They were all trained to kill vampires… He’d helped train most of them himself at some point. He was equally sure that by now, they knew what had happened to him and would be willing to kill him on sight. A grim smile caressed his thin lips as he reflected that some of them would have been more than willing to kill him even before he’d become what they had all been trained to despise.
Finally calming, the previous head Watcher knew he had to get into Melford’s office before leaving the building. If the London address of Rupert Giles would be anywhere, it would be there, and not being a fool, Quentin knew as well as if he’d seen the deed done; Rupert Giles had those books!
~*~
Melford always has been careless about his office… Hmmm, what have we here? Well, this should make things much more interesting. Now to get those books back before he actually has time to read them all and find the information…
Quentin dropped the letter back on the assistant’s desk.
The office was never locked and had been simple to enter. The finding of the letter with the address and the information about Giles and his new ‘guest’ had been an even bigger stroke of luck than the vampire had hoped for.
Moving swiftly, he opened the window in the office, dropping lightly to the ground. He covered the landscaped acreage rapidly but carefully, as he clung to the shadows, his new plans growing with each step.
~*~
Cordelia punched Lindsey in the arm as they moved through the various exercises of her normal training. Good in his own fashion, the ex-Wolfram and Hart attorney didn’t have the training the rest of Angel Investigations had received, usually from Angel, however, this particular blow had nothing to do with ‘normal training’ and Lindsey grimaced, stopping to look at Cordelia. “What did you do that for? That wasn’t part of the routine and besides, it hurt!”
“It was part of my ‘routine’, as of right now. You KNEW what happened with Angel and Buffy and didn’t tell me! So what do you know about what he’s doing now that I don’t know?”
“I have no idea what he’s doing right now, Cordelia. I can take a guess but that’s all. I’d rather not say anything. Hell, you know how he can get!”
“Yeah, I know. So guess anyway!”
Lindsey took advantage of the lull to pick up a towel, wiping his face and gaining a few moments to consider his words before he replied. “There was a vampire that showed up while we were in Sunnydale. He seemed more like Angel than the usual brutes, you know? I think someone said he was part of some gypsy clan even though he was a vampire. Maybe since it’s the same clan that gave Angel his soul in the first place, Angel’s probably gone to see them about getting that whole ‘losing his soul’ part of the thing removed. You know, after you two finally admitting you’re in love with each other…
Besides, Cordy… if the man had a ‘thing’ with his ex-girlfriend, how was I suppose to know you cared as long as he didn’t turn all evil again?”
“That’s no excuse. He’s my friend, of course I’d want to know!”
Lindsey dropped the hand rubbing his damp hair with the towel and gently took Cordelia’s arm instead. “If I thought that telling you about what he’d done would have helped me out even a little bit, I would have in a minute. But I saw the way you looked at him.”
“Helped you out? What do you mean, Lindsey? Helped you out how, with what?” Cordelia looked into the blue eyes of the man they all used to hate but saw only a sad and confused friend now.
“Not a thing, Cordy. I’m gonna catch a shower.” Releasing her arm, he leaned just slightly to press a gentle kiss on her cheek at the corner of her mouth, knowing that was as close as he’d get to her, then turned away, heading toward the door.
“Lindsey?”
He stopped at the question in her voice as she called him, yet didn’t turn. “Yeah, Cordy?”
“Thank you, Lindsey. And thank you for being my friend.”
He felt some of the tension slide
away from his shoulders. “You’re welcome, Cordelia. Thank you too.” Lindsey
walked through the door, heading upstairs, his thoughts heavy. You’d think I
could manage to fall for someone that wasn’t in love with Angel sooner or
later. How tha’hell did I manage to have the same exact taste in women as that
irritating vampire of a boss?
His mind had no answers for him as he stepped into the steaming spray of water.
~*~
Cordelia watched as Lindsey walked out the door. She’d realized the meaning of his words, calling him as if to call him back. Yet if he’d walked back to her, she didn’t know what she would have done.
She suppressed the urge to run after him, hold him until the bruised look left his eyes. She knew it was there because she’d glimpsed it before but hadn’t understood it’s meaning until now.
The tall brunette could imagine quite well how he felt. First Darla, then, she imagined, he’d probably been attracted to Buffy while in Sunnydale and now herself.
Cordelia remembered when it seemed that every man she met and had actually liked, had been attracted to Buffy and how it had made her feel. She suspected Lindsey was having similar thoughts, with all the women he was attracted to caring about Angel.
A half remembered comment surfaced for her to mull over, creating a determined look on her face as she too headed up the stairs and her own shower. As much as I want Angel to hurry back, I hope I have enough time to do a bit of checking first… But brood-boy had better get his butt back soon!
‘And I toss and I turn and I walk the floor
Here I go again
The night just walked in’
Giles settled back against the pile of pillows he’d thrown on his bed, adjusted the small lamp with one hand while he opened the small red book with the other.
A dusty smell rose from the page, that familiar odor of a very old book. He liked to think it was a combination of old paper, ink and the thoughts of the person that rested on the page, even though he knew that was a bit of romantic fantasy on his part.
The script was neat and even, surprisingly easy to read.
January
30, 1685
Many a year and more it has been
since Robere accomplished the daring feat that robbed him of his life, as well
as Brendan Giles who gave his life to protect the secret line of his Slayer.
It is with great dread that I set hand to paper in this
journal with what I have discovered as well of the young girls we call Slayers.
It is my fervent hope that some
future Watcher does find these pages and use them for the good I have
attempted.
I should think I would be best to begin at the first,
rather than the middle of my tale.
As a young Watcher, I stumbled
across the journals of Robere and of Brendan Giles, who was Watcher to
Yaszette. She who was mother to Elisabet, an infant raised by the Kalderash
clan.
A child of fate, destined to never know mother, nor
father, the Master vampire Dupree.
Yet it is of he that I should speak as well!
My thoughts, they jumble as I
try to make order of that which has none, or little yet to my own mind.
Again, once I read the diaries,
I sought out the Kalderash to learn more of who these girls are that we, the
Council, use to our own ends and who we call Slayers.
I met many an e’ne with Yanni
and Yanose. He baffles me, knowing as much as he does of such events, and
simply offers a tight little smile when asked how he came by such information.
But to my tale…
It is Dupree I shall address
first. He was born a man in the early thirteenth century, as best anyone may
remember. As a young man he was attacked at night, being changed or Turned,
into one of the undead. Yet for all his demonic nature, he retained much of
that about him that had been human. He is rumored to have had a human lover for
many years, until she aged and died. She had made him promise to never make her
as he was, it seems and this demon-filled beast did keep that promise!
He then had a vampire lover for
many a year after that, so I’m told, until she too was killed in some way. He
ruled his territory with an iron fist in a velvet glove for long afterwards
until he met the Slayer Yaszette and fell in love again at the age of over four
hundred years old. They created the child Elisabet before Brendan Giles managed
to take Dupree unawares and wrest the vampire’s un-natural existence from him.
Dupree was more than met the eye
or the imagination, I have discovered; for his mother had also been a Slayer
and his father a vampire. Thus his existence was kept secret from all.
Yanni tells of Dupree’s mother.
In some manner that has not been explained to me, the girl did die as a Slayer
on no less than four occasions! Each time, they say she came back stronger than
before, more fierce, more cruel and unwomanly. She had to hide much, for it is
rumored that when angered, she would change in a manner like unto the beasts
she was destined to kill. It was after the fourth death that she actively
sought out a vampire lover, finding one much like Dupree, in that he too had
much of his humanity about him.
This Slayer, Yanni tells me, was
a girl of the name Alanna, who the Watcher diaries call a brave and fierce
Slayer, yet say was killed by a vampire after an astonishing five years as
Slayer.
Yanni will not tell me her age,
yet I wonder if she is not one of the oldest vampires to remain? It is true she
in no way resembles that monster they call Heinrich Nest, e’vn though her tales
remember when he was human. I know not if I should believer her in all such
matters…
It seems that Elisabet has the
blood of her ancestors strong still in her veins. I have glimpsed her only once
and e’vn in her age of fifty such, she is still more than fair to the eye, as
is her only daughter.
Both have been much stronger than is seemly for a woman;
yet have not been called as Slayers…
Yet again, I stray. My mind does
wander and I must finish this journal ‘ere I meet mine own end!
So it seems that the beautiful
Elisabet has a Slayer for mother, grandmamma, and great grandmamma with a
vampire for father, grandpappa and great grandpappa. Such a legacy to carry on
such slender shoulders!
Yanni does not explain to me how
it is that she knows all of this, yet I feel it is the truth.
She tells me not the other names of Elisabet’s line,
saying she does not know them. I would have researched them as well, if I
could.
Yanni
assures me that the more a Slayer defeats death in resurrection, the more like
the demon she does become, yet always seeks out the beast to kill even as she
will seek one who wears a semblance of kindliness, with which to have a child.
The room whirls so now. I shall
hide this journal apart from those of Robere and Brendan. They contain much
more information that could be harmful to the Slayers that I have writ’ here.
I would that I could see
Elisabet or Yanni once more, but the room grows dark…
The line of ink trailed off the edge of the paper.
Giles looked carefully through the pages of the small book, finding no further information.
He understood why the information was dangerous and why Travers had kept it hidden; yet it raised more questions than the ones it had answered. The knowledge of the actual origins of Slayers and vampires, not to mention how the Council had bred and manipulated them in the past, as well as his own ancestor’s involvement, was just the type of sordid secret Travers enjoyed hording for his own personal use.
Glancing at the clock beside the bed, Giles saw it was after 2am. Despairing of any decent sleep at all, he carefully tucked the small book between the mattresses of his bed, turned out the lights and rolled over in preparation for sleep.
After several minutes of tossing, unable to find a comfortable position and feeling as though he was forgetting something important, Giles suddenly realized what it was he was unconsciously seeking.
The knowledge raised a line of chill down his spine as he clamped down on that corner of his mind before pulling a pillow to him and wrapping his arms tightly around it, he finally fell into an uneasy sleep.
~*~
‘In walks my fantasy
Darkness all around me
And I'm dying for the light
Reach down for a little strength deep inside’
Willow lay awake reading one of the books Angie loaned her. She was struggling to keep her eyes open before finally turning off the light. The room felt much safer than the previous night, but sleep did not readily come as Willow endlessly turned recent events, both here in England and in Sunnydale, over in her mind.
The young witch was very aware of the empty space beside her and even as she missed Tara’s presence, it was the memory of warmth beside her the previous evening that flashed across her mind’s eye.
Trying to squelch the image before it could become a thought, Willow firmly told herself to go to sleep, turning once more in an effort to do so.
~*~
“He has the book of Julius. He will have read it by now, that one.”
“Then it is time we spoke with him.”
“There are more reasons than just the book, Yanose.”
“Yes. I think perhaps the other first, though.”
“After the entry of evil into the House, he may stay late. It will give us time. We shall plan for it.”
~*~
Willow and Giles ate breakfast in relative quiet. Both felt somewhat irritable from a poor night’s sleep, but attempted to carry on a normal conversation; Giles expressing his wish for Willow to visit with Angie whenever possible. “She’s the person I mentioned wishing you to work with on more of the ‘women’s mysteries’ as they seems to be called now days.”
“Cool. She’s a nice person. I felt really comfortable with her, kinda like we were old friends.”
“She does have that effect on people, I’ve noticed. Oh… excuse me.” Giles rose from the table to answer the telephone just inside the door of the living room. After listening more than talking, the older man replaced the receiver, returning to the table, a grim expression over his face.
“Giles, what’s wrong? It’s not Buffy or Dawn or…”
“No. No, nothing like that, Willow. It seems there was a break-in at the Council house last evening. They suspect it was Travers. I want you to be very careful. I may need to be there after dark this evening because of this and… There is a very real possibility that he knows where I live now and that you’re here.
He’d strike out at you to hurt Buffy and Dawn, not to mention getting back at me. Promise you’ll be careful?”
“Y-yeah. Why do they think it was Travers?”
“There was a letter in Melford’s office that mentioned our arrival date as well as my return address here. It was probably the note Travers left scrawled on the bottom of that letter, would be my best guess.”
The new Head Watcher’s tone was exceedingly dry with sarcasm that did not bode well for Melford once Giles reached the Council house.
“That would do it, I guess. Of course I’ll be careful. And we did do the warding on the place last night… So you’ll be careful too, right?”
“Yes. Go visit Angie and let her know of this new development. She may have additional safeguards we might wish to employ. But be certain to be back well before dark, Willow. Lock all the doors and windows. I have to go, but I’ll call you later to check on you.” He set his dishes in the sink, running a bit of water in them before catching up his jacket from the peg and grabbing his briefcase sitting beside the door. “Come lock the door behind me.”
“Oh, right. Be careful, Giles.” Willow moved quickly to the open door as he stood near it, preparing to leave. Giles had no further reply other than to quickly drop a kiss on the top of her head before pulling the door closed behind him, leaving Willow to stare at the painted wooden surface, surprised by the gesture.
Drawing her wits around her again, the redhead locked the door and walked back to the table.
The jellied toast no longer looked appetizing, so she dropped it in the garbage, washing both sets of dishes before she finished the remainder of her tea, then heading to her room to change clothes before going out.
~*~
Willow spent the day with Angie at her shop.
It seemed to be a relief for both women to talk together; Willow, about Tara, new feelings and the odd occurrences since she’d arrived, while Angie spoke of magick, ethics, paths and touched on the ‘women’s mysteries’ Giles had spoken of.
“I had no idea that Giles was talking about you working with me, Angie. This is so cool!”
“Och, child! Did ye think he’d be findin’ a witch just hangin’ ‘bout on every tree? When he told me of ye, I’d have nae heard o’anyone’ other than meself helpin’ ye.” Angie looked hard at Willow, but with concern and affection in her gaze, “An’ I was right! Ye need the help and so did he! ‘Tis late, Lil’one. Best ye be headin’ back to tha’ flat and lockin’ yer’self inside.”
“Yeah, I know. I just really enjoy the time we spend together, Angie. Do you think Giles will be alright?” Willow spoke while she gathered her things, including more books on loan from Angie’s private collection.
“Life has its rough pits along the road, child. But he’ll be well and so will ye. Give us a hug and be on yer way. Tell yer comp’ny I send me regards.” Giving Willow no chance to ask further questions, Angie clasped her in a quick hug and pushed her out the door, retreating to the rear of the shop after locking the door behind the young witch. “Aye, an’ ‘t’will be tha’ healin of tha’ both of’em.”
Willow walked along, puzzled by Angie’s sudden odd behavior and even stranger statements. Deciding she’d visit again tomorrow, Willow was determined to ask her what the unusual comments about ‘company’ had meant.
The remainder of the way back to Giles’ flat, the young redhead gazed around her, taking in the sights, such as they were. There were the usual small booth-type affairs for bus stops; several very charming cottage houses nestled back from the street, shielded by the tall spires of softly coloured flowers in their charming gardens.
Even stranger than the little shops tucked cheek-to-jowl with the cottages, were the oddly placed, several story buildings, much like the one where Giles had his own flat.
The deep grey drizzle of the morning had cleared, leaving a startling blue sky, draped with swags of puffy white clouds. In the distance, Willow occasionally caught a glimpse of the purple tops of distant hills.
She felt as though the deep depression that had dogged her steps and filled her heart was finally beginning to lift. The memory of Tara wasn’t the bone-aching grief it had been and the thoughts of how she’d love to show Tara everything here or just tell her about it brought a curve to Willow’s lips rather than a tear of sadness. As she wished she had a way to share things with Tara, a half remembered spell she’d seen in one of Angie’s books gave her the perfect way to ‘tell’ the recent events.
That’s it! I can just write her a letter and tell her everything, burn it and let the wind lift the ash to her above. That’ll work great.
Further cheered from her thoughts, Willow hurried ‘home’, intent on writing Tara.
She pushed open the foyer door of the building, ascending the stairs to the second-floor flat only to encounter a sudden sense of disturbance in the wards they’d placed. Gathering her energies, Willow carefully unlocked and opened the door. Peering inside, she saw two vague shapes sitting in the deep shadows of the living room, the curtains tightly closed, even though she knew she’d left the drapes open when she left hours earlier.
Filling her hand with a small ball of green fire to use as light or a weapon should she need it, Willow stepped squarely into the room.
“We mean you no harm, little one. I know you will know my name. I am Yanni. This is Yanose next to me. We have been waiting to speak with you.”
“I do know the name, but how do I know it’s really you?”
The closer, dimly seen figure, which was obviously female in the glowing green light, chuckled before she answered. “Do you think that just any vampire could cross the barrier you placed, or that Mr. Giles has invited great numbers of vampires into his home? Come, child. Keep your fire, but put on the light so you may see us better.”
“You have a point. I know Giles would have let you in and other than that, I can think of only two other vampires he’s ever invited into his home. But just stand still and let me get the light…” Willow sat the bag she carried on the floor and reached to flick on the switch.
Soft illumination filled the room from the small linen-shaded brass lamp on the table next to the door, as well as from the tall antique looking torchere in the far corner. Looking at the two people standing before her, Willow saw a woman who had been in her thirties, she thought, when she’d been turned. She was attractive in a handsome rather than beautiful way, yet still striking. Her hair was heavy, thick, a deep brown like well-polished expensive wood. She wore a simply cut, dusty red dress that set off her hair. Around her hips was tied a multi-coloured, fringed scarf, the reds emphasized by the background of the dress.
Behind her stood a man about the same height as Giles, looking almost like a younger version of the Watcher. He was dressed in plain dark brown pants and a dark, dusty. burnt orange ‘peasant’ shirt, much like the ones Willow knew had been popular in the sixties and occasionally showed up in the second hand stores. She was willing to bet this one was an original.
Closing her hand, she extinguished the ball of flame, absorbing the energy back into herself as she stepped away from the door. “I believe you. I know that Yanose was one of Giles’ ancestors before he was turned, and the resemblance is startling! So I’m gonna go with you being who you say you are. That said, how did you get past the wards and why are you here, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Mr. Giles always leaves us a way in past any warding he does. As for why we are here, we have need to speak with you of an important matter, Willow. Why not get yourself something to drink and come sit with us. We have much to discuss.”
~*~
Willow made a pot of tea while Yanni put together a small plate of sandwiches and crackers, in proper English fashion, taking care to explain that while they received no nourishment from the food, they still enjoyed the taste and the simple ritual of tea.
Some time later, the tea had been reduced to sips remaining in three cups and a few crumbs on the small plate. At times during the discussion, Willow had almost wished for a bit of something stronger than the tea, but she had calmed as she considered the ideas the two Kalderash vampires had presented to her.
“And you think he’ll go for this idea?”
“It is necessary, therefore it is up to you to make sure that he, ah… ‘goes for it’, as you phrase it.”
Yanose grinned at her. “Had it not been for my own discretions, he would not be here and so much more would have been at risk.”
“Yeah, sometimes the Powers That Be seem to just take a hand and do that kinda thing to us.” Willow looked thoughtful as she pondered the recent events in her life that could fall in that category. Events that had led to her being here in England, to having the previous conversation with the two vampires. Events that had placed her in a position to fulfill what the Powers saw as a need, if Yanni was right.
“Thus so. We have never been reluctant to offering a hand to help the Powers, so we came to speak with you to that end. If it will ease your mind, write your letter to your lost love and ask of her advice on the matter we have discussed. We have always found that such things are helpful and are answered. The answer may not come as you expect or in such a plain form as a letter, yet it will come. Of that we are sure.”
“It sounds like a good idea. Are you planning to talk to Giles about this too?”
“No, we may not do that. We shall have to depend on you to take care of the problem, Willow. We shall leave you now so that you may write your letter before you speak with him.” Yanni stood, as did Yanose. The attractive vampire woman stepped closer to Willow, who had risen from her chair as they had, brushing Willow’s hair with one hand as she gently laid a cool kiss on the witch’s forehead. “We can see ourselves out. We shall talk again later.”
The two vampires turned toward the door just as the telephone rang, shattering the quiet of the room, causing Willow to jump slightly. She answered the telephone to find Giles on the other end, calling as he’d promised, to check on her.
~*~
As SHE had promised, Willow said nothing to Giles about her unusual visit of that evening.
She reassured him she was well, spoke for a moment of the new books borrowed from Angie and mentioned her plans to write some letters and perhaps read for a while.
Before they ended the call, the Watcher promised to be home within the next two hours.
Willow spent a great deal of time writing her letter to Tara, going into the same detail on paper that she would have with her lost lover, had she been there in person.
Finally satisfied that she’d covered everything, Willow said a small incantation over the letter, placed it in a small copper brazier, then with heavy electric torch in hand, took the items outside.
She stayed carefully inside the range of the exterior lights once she stepped out the rear door of the building and lit the letter in the brazier.
As it burned, she chanted, sending the ash spiraling higher and higher, propelling it toward Tara.
The last scraps of the papers were just glowing fragments as Willow looked up, seeing the ash where it appeared to trail across the face of the full pale moon above her.
“So mote it be. I miss you, love.”
“You’d better hope someone misses you, LOVE!”
Willow turned at the sound of the harsh voice, gathering fire in her hand as she did, but the vampire moved too quickly for her. Darkness rapidly followed the heels of the heavy pain where the demon struck her head.
The brazier fell to the ground, forgotten and alone, a small fleck of glowing ash remaining somehow in its depths while two vampires gathered Willow up, carrying her away in the darkness.
Behind the shelter afforded by the trees, two sets of eyes watched as the young witch was kidnapped. “I do not like this at all. I worry for her.”
“We knew this would be. It is necessary, although still disturbing. I will send one to follow and join them, seeing her safe.”
“If that is the best we may do now…”
“It is. I dislike it very much, but it is.”
~*~
Buffy grabbed the telephone on the second ring, surprised to hear Giles on the other end. He’d already let her know that he and Willow had arrived safely in England.
For some reason she couldn’t put her finger on, the sound of his voice caused Buffy’s stomach to knot, while at the same time, she felt the change start inside of her. “Giles, what’s wrong? Something is, cause I’m having a really bad case of the wiggins right about now.”
The anxiety Giles felt for Willow, wrapped itself around his words like a drug, heavy, weighing them down, “Willow has been kidnapped, Buffy. We think it was Travers. There are Watchers looking for where he may have taken her. Probably to his lair, where ever that may be.”
“I don’t know what I can do from here, Giles, but I’ll try everything I can. Willow has such strong magick now, Giles… she’ll be alright. I know she will.”
“Thank you, Buffy. I needed that reassurance. I wanted to let you know, but I have to go now, to… ah, assist with the search. I’ll contact you again as soon as we hear anything.”
Placing the receiver back on its base, Giles dragged his other hand across his face in a futile attempt to clear away the fear that held him so tightly in its grasp; fear for the redheaded witch who’d crept under his skin.
Never releasing the telephone receiver, he picked it up again as he dialed yet another number. This one closer, offering perhaps more help than reassurances.
~*~
“Spike! That was Giles on the phone! Travers has kidnapped Willow. We need to try and think of something, anything we can do, to find out more about where he might have her. Maybe one of the remaining vampires….”
Fear for her friend was thick in the room as Spike, Wesley and Dawn rushed to the older Slayer’s side. “We’ve got to do something, we have to help.”
“Buffy, I simply don’t know what we can accomplish from here to assist Giles in finding Willow in England.” Wesley tried to be the voice of reason, even if it was a worried voice.
“I can’t just sit here, Wes, while Willow and maybe even Giles, are in danger!” Looking at the air about her, Buffy shouted, “Faith! Faith, where are you? I need you here NOW, Faith!”
“’B’! Stop yelling! Geeze, you’ll make my ears try to disappear to get some quiet! I’m here. And I already know about Willow.” Faith had simply appeared in their midst at Buffy’s frantic call.
“Then can you go help them find her? You can go places they can’t, guide them back.”
“Buffy, I can’t do that. I’m tied here with Dawn and Wesley. Completely, Buffy. I can’t go anywhere else. I’m sorry. I really am.”
Buffy reached for Spike’s arm, for comfort against the image of Willow’s danger that loomed large before her. “Then what can we do if you can’t go, Faith? How do we help them?”
“’B’, go talk to the one person here that can go, that can help.” Faith knew she was treading on dangerous ground. She couldn’t afford to reveal too much or she’d get herself in trouble with the Powers, but she could give hints…
“Who, Faith? Who is here except you that can cross those miles in an instant and possibly help Willow? None of us can do that. Anya might be able to, but not all vengeancy demon like she’s gotten. So who else is there?” Anger was gaining, replacing the fear as Buffy pulled the more violent emotion around her like a sheltering bulwark.
Exasperated, Faith explained, “’B’, this afterlife thing is a whole lot more than you ever got to see of it. They got rules too, and I can’t get around them. Kinda still like being in prison. I can give you hints without getting in dutch with’em, but you gotta figure it out. I’d just do it quick like, you know?”
Buffy looked perplexed, as did Spike and Wesley. This time it was Dawn that made the connection.
“Tara! Tara can get to Willow if anybody can!”
“Dawn, Tara’s dead.”
“I KNOW that! It’s why she can get to her, don’t you see? We’ve got to go talk to Tara.”
Light suddenly filling Buffy’s face, she released Spike’s arm to grasp Dawn’s hand, pulling her sister out the door as they ran to the cemetery. Wesley and Spike followed, also at a run, while Faith stayed right with the two Slayers, saying, “Good work, Dawnie! I knew you could do it.”
Several feet behind, Spike muttered tersely to the lone Watcher. “Yer falling behind. We gotta keep up with them.”
“This… is.. the best… I can… do… And I can’t do…this well… and talk, Spike.”
“Fine.” Spike grabbed Wesley’s arm, pulling the Watcher along with his own strength and power, as they inched closer to the three speeding Slayers.
~*~
‘Never again
would I turn away from you
I'm so heavy tonight
But your love is alright
And I do believe’
Reaching Tara’s grave, Buffy and Dawn took only seconds to recover their breath before they began their pleas, hoping Faith had been right and that Tara would hear them wherever she was.
“Tara. Tara, if you can hear us, Willow is in danger! She’s in England with Giles and has been kidnapped by vampires. It’s a long story, Tara, but you have to help her!”
“Willow took all the magick from the books at the shop. Quentin Travers has become a vampire and is out for blood. Willow is in England to learn how to control her magick. Travers wants to use her to get to all of us, Tara.” Dawn summed up quickly as Buffy just looked at her sister.
“Guess not that long a story after all.” Buffy fell silent, letting Dawn talk to Tara, since the younger girl seemed to be doing a better job of explaining the situation. Only seconds later, the air shimmered around the grave and Tara stood there before them.
Her name echoed through the cemetery as each one exclaimed at seeing the blonde Witch.
They’d buried her wearing one of her favorite pale green dresses, but she stood before them in a beautifully draped robe of midnight blue, intricate embroidery graced the hem of the shirt and sleeves, as well as added a sparkling touch across the neckline. Her voice, when she spoke to them, was soft, ephemeral, a whisper of wind through the trees…
“I know. I had to be asked though, to save her.” The misty apparition reached out a hand toward the group, yet tried to touch no one.
“I’ve missed all of you. But I’ll never be far from the ones I love. Believe that. I have to go now, Willow is in danger and needs me.” Tara vanished from sight, only a lingering scent of wildflowers in the silent, dark cemetery to indicate her previous presence.
“Okay, now I need a drink.” Dawn announced to the world at large. She heard no dissenting voices as they turned toward home. At the last second, Spike turned back to the grave to leave a handful of stones atop the headstone, letting everyone know their lost witch might be gone, yet never forgotten. He’d almost forgotten the old custom.
~*~
‘calling all angels calling all angels
walk me through this one
don't leave me alone
calling all angels calling
all angels’
Angie arrived quickly at Giles’ flat, then spent several minutes trying to calm the frantic man. “Now, let’s go outside to where the wee bairn was taken. There might well be something we can use there.” Angel headed toward the door even as Giles attempted to dissuade her. “We’ve been over that entire area, Angie. There are signs of a scuffle and nothing more.”
The older witch continued to walk down the hallway toward the back stairs. “When was the last time ye won an argument with me, Rupert? D’ye think ye’ll be startin’ now? Ye have to know what to see, lovie.”
“How do you know she was at the back of the building, Angie? I never told you that.” Suspicion edged his words as he struggled to deny it a foothold. This was his friend. She was a good person. Willow trusted her, and he’d trusted her with Willow.
“She worked a spell. I felt it. She’d nae ha’ done so in front for all tha’ pryin’ eyes, Rupert. Dinnae be daft now.” Gazing over the area inside the lights, Angie then moved outward toward the shadows. Spying a stray gleam as the light caught a thin edge of the copper brazier, she stooped and quickly snatched it up, righting it to see the still glowing ember in the depths. “Aye, and I was right! She’s worked a spell and somethin’ waits for us still. But we must know what she worked.”
A voice from the darkness offered assistance even before the two figures stepped into the light from the floods. “I think I may help here. The Watchers thought the small bowl of no consequence, however, we spoke with the young witch earlier. She told me of the need to talk to her departed lover. She’d sent the ashes of a letter to the other witch.”
“Yanni, love! Good to see ye. So ye’ll be helpin’ us with this then?”
Giles looked one to the other as the witch and vampire exchanged greetings. That is, until his eye fell on the man standing quietly beside Yanni and it was as if he’d looked into a mirror of his youth. “Oh, my Lord! Y-you’re Yanose, I mean… Brendan! My ancestor.”
“Yes, I am. You see why we delayed the meeting, delayed you actually seeing me. The resemblance is striking, but we shall discuss that at length once this crisis is passed, Rupert. Yanni and I are old friends of Angie but now time is important in locating your missing Willow. Come.”
The two men stepped closer to the women as Yanni and Angie quickly devised a way to both help, as well as find, Willow. Moving into a tight circle, each held an edge of the brazier. “Spark o’ life, we cast ye to the heavens, a shining beacon to invoke and guide the spirit and love of the departed, Tara, to aid in the safety of she who wrote the words of love on this paper. Go to Willow, aid her in her darkness, that she may safely join us once more. So mote it be!”
With the final word of the invocation, the tiny ember lifted from the brazier, floating away on the breeze, its fire never fading as it went.
“If we trace the spark, we’ll locate where Willow is being held. It will be guarded, so all must be silent. Then plans to rescue her may be laid.” Yanni quietly told them all before turning to do as she had bid them, her eyes cast to the air, keeping the glowing dot in sight.
~*~
Through twists and turns of the night and the various alleyways, the silent foursome crept. Yanose lead beside Yanni, who watched the drifting firefly of light, looking for danger, obstacles and other pitfalls.
Giles did the same at the rear, assisting Angie who also watched the unusual messenger.
The tiny spark finally hovered beside an old ramshackle warehouse, then the faint suggestion of a hand plucked the fire from the air, extinguishing it, but leaving a strong sense of accomplishment and security. “The girl has the guide. All shall be well. Wait but a moment while we check..” With no additional explanation, Yanni and Yanose vanished into the shadows, only a thickening of the darkness. Yet before Giles had time to form one of the many questions that plagued him, they were back, motioning away from the building.
“This is the place. She is safe and Tara stays beside her to protect her, yet still we must make rescue plans quickly.”
~*~
‘You still my heart
And you take my breath away’
It was almost two days later before the various parts of the rescue mission were co-coordinated and ready. Angie and Yanni handled the work of organizing the rescue efforts, once Giles convinced the Watcher’s Council that attempting to rush the warehouse would only result in Willow’s death.
After persuading the Watchers to allow ‘secondary forces’ to handle the situation, Giles remained in a more subdued state of panic; existing on strong tea, hot coffee, a ‘cat-nap’ when he could no longer stay awake and the devout hope that Tara’s spirit would never allow Willow to be hurt by Travers and his minions. Although what the departed witch could actually DO, he was unsure.
During the interminable waiting, he was convinced of two things. Willow had become more important to him than he’d thought possible and the realization that he’d lose something infinitely precious, should anything befall her.
‘You calm the storms
And you give me rest
You hold me in your hands
You won't let me fall’
Willow woke to the sight of darkness wrapped around her. Her hands and feet were tied, a dirty, foul-tasting gag cut cruelly across her mouth. A matching one seemed to be part of what blocked her vision. Trying to summon up at least a light in the small room and failing, she realized Travers had effectively prevented her from saving herself. Without the ability to speak or see or use her hands, she could summon the energy for her magick, yet had no outlet with which to work.
The feeling of panic crept up her spine as she lay in the darkness, the floor hard, cold and gritty beneath her cheek. The panic increased its grip as a slight sound fell upon her ears and she strained harder to hear.
She hoped it wasn’t rats. Not that she minded them exactly, but she knew none of them would be anything like Amy-rat.
Of course, she told herself, I’d rather it be rats than vampires…almost.
A cool hand touched her face gently. She started, trying to pull away, but the voice was soft, young and surprisingly…reassuring. She assumed from the temperature of his hands, that he was one of the vampires she’d just been dreading.
“Calm. I’ve water and food for you. I’m a friend, but I cannot allow anyone to know except you. Help will come.” The cool hands untied the gag, yet left the blindfold in place. A damp cup was placed against her lips and she drank the water it contained. It wasn’t fresh, but it was cold and wet.
“I…”
“No! Do not speak!”
Understanding that they feared a spell, Willow decided to try the one word approach.
“Bathroom.”
“Alright. I shall have to call others and you will have no privacy, you understand this?”
She simply nodded her head, her mind racing, struggling to find an idea, an out.
“No spells.”
There were soft shuffling sounds as someone else entered the room behind them.
“Yes”, the soft voice continued. “No spells shall be allowed. Do you wish something else? I shall strike you if you begin a spell.”
“Can you loosen or move the blindfold? It’s really tight and hurts my head. It’s on top of where they hit me. I promise to keep my eyes closed.”
“Yes, this I can do.”
Willow felt a second person move behind her to grasp her arms with even colder hands, as the nicer vampire loosened the blindfold and retied it slightly at an angle before gently touching the throbbing swelling on the side of her head for several moments.
“You have kept your word. I will guide you to the bathroom, but I must remain there.”
Willow simply nodded, her bladder screaming at her after all the tea she’d drunk earlier.
Led through a myriad of passages, some she suspected, traveling through more than once, she finally arrived at a bathroom. She could tell by the noxious odor. Hands still tied, blindfold in place, with the nasty gag removed and circulation returning to her feet, she wasn’t sure how she was suppose to manage this.
“How?”
“I am sorry. I must assist you, but I will promise not to look, then I shall turn my back while you…”
“I understand. It’s okay.”
Willow steeled herself not to react in any way as the vampire gently raised her dress and fumbling slightly, slid her undergarments down before holding the skirt out of her way.
The material was awkwardly pulled, so she hoped he’d turned around as promised and gingerly sat on what she was sure was a disgusting toilet and attended to business.
As the sounds ceased, she hesitated once more, until the unseen vampire came to her assistance again.
“Raise slightly, I will have to do this for you. Will it help to know I was once a physician before I was changed? “
Her breath expelled in a sigh, “Yes, actually it does. Thank you.”
Once all was rearranged, she was led by a more direct route back to her ‘cell’. She was given more water and the man held a portion of stale bread and hard cheese for her to eat. She was still uncomfortable, but under the circumstances, the food was ambrosial. Between bites once, she’d simply asked him, “Why?”
“Why are you here? Why am I helping?” Seeing her answering nod, he very quietly told her both answers. “He has taken you to lure both Slayers as well as the Watcher. He hates them all, but the older Slayer and her Watcher most of all. You embarrassed him too, so I am told, when he was in the States. He wishes to lure them here with you as the bait, taunting them with hope, but turning you once he feels them closing in. Then presented with your demonic visage, he will stake you himself before their eyes, ending all hope. I am here at the request of a friend, as a friend, to try to prevent all but the first. I cannot stop what must be. But I must not be detected. Do you understand?”
Trembling, Willow nodded, then waited for whatever would happen next. “I must re-gag you, so drink to rinse your mouth and moisten it. This cloth is much cleaner than the last.”
Willow did as she was bid, carefully consuming all of the cool, stale water. Before he could do more than touch her lips with the obviously softer cloth, she murmured quickly, “Your name, please?”
“You know that names have power. I am Leon.” He tied the gag across her mouth rather than through it, tying it firmly but not so cruelly as before.
‘I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt you, I'll stand by you’
Finally falling into an uneasy sleep, Willow dreamed of Tara. At least she thought it was a dream until Tara began to speak to her in a most un-dream like way.
+
Will, I thought you were never going to go to sleep! I need to talk to you.
This is important. +
Tara took great pains to explain to Willow what was happening, what she was there to do, and how she could help. Once past all the important initial conversation, Tara stunned the sleeping Willow with another revelation.
+I
got your letter, earlier, Will. I miss you too, sweetie. I also understand
what’s happening, about Giles, you know, and I couldn’t be happier for you. I
think it’s a good idea. He’ll be very good to you, protect you and will love
you. +
+Tara, are you sure? I mean, I know how I used to feel, years ago, but then there was you and… So how do I go back? +
+Honey,
you don’t go back. You go forward. Like Faith told Buffy earlier tonight, this
afterlife stuff is a lot more than she ever got to see. We get to know things.
Not that we always get to tell them, but we get to know stuff. Things happened
as they had to, Will. It was painful for everyone and I’m sorry anyone had to
go through it, but the end will be worth it, you’ll see. Go back to sleep,
love. I’ll be here. They won’t hurt you while I’m here and I’ll always be here.
At least while you still need me. +
Tara stretched out a hand in the dream to smooth Willow’s hair, before laying a gentle kiss over the painful swelling on her head.
Willow slept.
~*~
“She is safe, Rupert. The planning goes on and is well. She will be out of there soon. Have you read the book?” Confused by the sudden change of subject, Giles almost didn’t understand Yanni’s question as she and Yanose sat opposite he and Angie in his living room. “Ah.. y-yes. I have. It – it was confusing. I mean, I understand why Travers would hide that information, but I don’t understand what it all means.”
Angie took no part in the discussion and simply listened, taking in the possible ‘between the lines’ information for later use.
“It is very simple once you understand that when I was human, my name was Alanna.” Yanni explained, pausing as Giles grasped the connection of her human name. “Ahhhh, I see now that you grasp more of my meanings.
It is an old story. I was the servant girl at a great castle. I had been born there, my mother also a servant, so I was raised to that life. The lord of the manor was a man… a sorcerer you might say, who dealt too long in the dark magicks.
His name was Heinrich Nest.
As I grew and took on the form of a woman, he felt I was his property in truth and my time was spent avoiding him as much as possible. Then I was called as a Slayer. This was not unheard of in my family and we knew the meaning of it.
I served well. My Watcher was a very good man.
The vampires were many and I was hard pressed to keep their numbers down. Finally I failed and was killed; yet through his sorceries, Heinrich brought me back with his magicks. Several times he did this. Each time, I was stronger, different. I started to change, much as I am sure our favorite Slayer has done.
After the fourth time, the local Master vampire decided to eliminate me by first stopping he who revived me. His method was simple and effective, for he turned Heinrich, thus the evil sorcerer became in truth the monster he had always been under the skin.
Heinrich again tried to make me his, for as cruel as he had been as a human, the evil in him was unmatched once the demon filled him. He killed and turned my Watcher, Pierre Dupree.
His first night risen, Pierre encountered the Kalderash. They had come to aid him at my mother’s request. She had befriended them in the past, so now the gypsies returned his soul.
My Watcher, from then on, was a vampire as well as my lover. We were later married very quietly and after a while, I became with child and the younger Dupree, of which you know, was born.
One night while out hunting, for that is what it was now, we encountered Heinrich. He’d become vastly powerful. Jealous still of our love, Heinrich managed to have others overpower Pierre while he himself drained me, tossing me aside to laugh at Pierre before leaving us with our agonies.
But I was much harder to kill than he thought and clung to the last shreds of life. Pierre discovered this and to save me, turned me himself then carried me to the Kalderash, who restored my soul before my first rising. Pierre and I stayed with them, allowing my mother to raise my small son in an effort to protect him from our enemies.
But years later, as my son was becoming a man, Heinrich returned again, knew the young Dupree for mine and turned him. I was unable to save him or have a soul restored to him, yet he was still unusually kind in many things despite the demon within him.
Pierre was taken from me some time later. Killed before my eyes, as I watched. Killed protecting a new Slayer, and I, unable to go to he whom I had loved for so many years.
Many years later, our son met the lovely Yaszette, who you know as Brendan’s Slayer, and fell in love with her. They produced Elisabet, of whom you know from Brendan’s Watcher diary. You are aware now that Brendan changed his name to Yanose once he became a vampire.
I made some of these events known to Yaszette before she died, but not all. She gave Elisabet to us to raise and even though not Yanose’s own child, it help much for the loss of Yaszette, for him to raise her child. No further Slayers were called from this line until the one destined to be the greatest Slayer thus far. Your Slayer, Rupert Giles, who is a direct descendant of Elisabet.
After some time, we no longer needed to protect this line so closely and they moved back into society, though we have always kept watch.”
“Thank you, Yanni. This explains a great deal. Buffy is actually not just the descendant of Elisabet, but of Yaszette and yourself, through your son, Dupree. But what of Julius and his book? He said Elisabet was descended from Slayers and vampires for the previous three generations. You’ve only explained two; Yaszette and Dupree, and yourself.” Giles was puzzled about that small discrepancy even as he was profoundly astonished by the truth, which did seem stranger than fiction.
“It is of no concern. Julius did not know I was Alanna and he was very ill when he finally accepted that he was dying and set hand to page. It was the coughing sickness.”
“Excuse me for interruptin’ but who did the wee lassie Elisabet marry?” Angie felt there was something not said here, something important.
“Does it matter, old friend?” Yanose answered her, sounding strangely saddened.
“Aye, I’m thinkin’ it be important.”
“Very well. No, Yanni, it is well. It is time.” Yanose had stilled her hand, as she would touch his arm to stop him. “My son married Elisabet. He was a youth before I knew of his existence. It had been that time of rebellion I know you understand, Rupert. When told I was to be a Watcher as the men of our family have been for many generations, I too rebelled. The girl was young, as they all are when we as young men, fall in love for the first time. We lay together once before my father returned me to school. I did love her. Until Yaszette, she was the only woman I ever loved. Then.
Yanni helped me find young Stewart, as his mother had called him. Over time, he grew close to me, for all that I am what I am, and we changed his name to the family one before I too told him he was to be a Watcher. He thought he should make a difference in the Council, but it was in other places where his difference is felt. Through the blood of Yanni and myself, we brought forth the Slayer who has been the world’s greatest hope thus far.
Now we must hope for a miracle to pass along our bloodlines we have so carefully nurtured. The Kalderash Elders have seen for generations in the stars the importance of this bloodline and have done much to continue it as well as nourish it in the direction it has gone. But there is more to be accomplished and no further offspring from either side now. This is why the continuance of the line now lies in your hands. Yours and Buffy’s.”
“I… see. So your Elders feel that Buffy must also have a child? She is with Spike, as I’m sure you know. Do you think that Spike will be able to father a child with her?”
“That we hope for. A Slayer seems more able to reproduce once they have been revived. A vampire more able to produce with a soul, but it is not a necessity, as you have read in the past. This seems to be connected in some way to their demonic origins. You are aware now that this connection has been kept strong in the current Slayer’s line.”
“And what of me? You say the bloodline rests in my hands as well. What exactly do you have planned for me along that line, or do I not have any say in the matter?” Giles’ voice was tight. He didn’t wish to offend his benefactors, yet he’d made up his heart over the last few hours and knew who he wanted in his life.
Both vampires smiled at him as did Angie, who was the one to answer the question. “I’m thinkin’ yer well on yer way to solvin’ that small problem, once we save the wee witch from durance vile.”
Giles visibly relaxed for a moment until the realities of the rescue returned in a breath-stealing rush. “Yes, you’re quite right. Provided we can save her and then provided she’ll have me. Her last relationship….”
“T’was different. But she told me of the one before that as well. He, nae ‘she’, sounded like a charmin’ werewolf of a lad. Dinnae be makin’ that of which it is’t, Rupert. Tis right and proper. She’ll likely get the blessin’s of her lost one.”
“B-but Tara… Tara is dead.” Giles protested almost entirely on form alone.
“Och! And ye be knowing death is only another doorway, Rupert. Only a doorway. Doors swing both ways.” It was the end of the subject per Angie!
~*~
Angel walked back through the front doorway of the Hyperion; both anxious and nervous about seeing Cordelia, knowing as he did that the barrier of his once precarious soul was no longer between them.
He heard voices from the back of the hotel, from the downstairs training room.
He wanted a bath, something to eat, to hug Cordelia, share with her what he’d discovered and then see where that revelation led them… not necessarily in that order.
What he found, however as he reached the bottom of the stairs was Cordelia stretched out on a floor mat on her back, Lindsey laying on top of her as he looked down into her face, the weight of his upper body supported only by his elbows braced on the floor. They were laughing.
Angel’s vision misted over with a red haze as he lunged for the ex-lawyer, soon to be ex-living…
~*~
Dawn wished Wesley a good night as she hurried to her room. She was tired and worried about Willow but had confidence in Tara. The young Slayer knew if she went to sleep, she couldn’t worry quite so much about a situation in which she was completely helpless, so sleep it was…
Wesley turned toward his room, hearing the quiet murmur of voices in Buffy’s room and knew she and Spike would probably talk the problem to death, still unable to help.
With a sigh, he readied for bed, sliding under the covers to stare at the patterns of reflected light through his window.
~*~
“…I know there is nothing more we can do, Spike, but she’s my best friend and I’m afraid for her. You don’t know Quentin. You only got to meet that gaggle-toothed female Watcher that practically drooled all over you.”
“She was not and did not! Jealous, Slayer?” The blonde vampire-daywalker leered in what he hoped was an enticing manner at his worried lover.
Buffy took the bait, knowing full well what he was doing, and wrapped her arms around his neck, looking up at him. “Absolutely. I’m jealous of every woman who has ever had your heart, Spike”
“Like you haven’t known all of them, Slayer.” He pulled her closer, nuzzling the side of her neck, breathing over the throbbing pulse just beneath the skin, “But my heart only beats for you, Buffy.”
Words quickly because a thing of the past for the next several hours as Spike gave every ounce of himself to distract Buffy.
His plan was even more successful than he’d hoped.
~*~
‘And if I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
And if I shiver, please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat’
Willow tried to huddle closer into the ragged blanket that was her only buffer from the cold of the stone floor beneath her. The grit had scored her cheeks, hands, knees, in fact almost every inch of exposed skin that bore any of her weight, as she lay trussed in the isolated room.
Leon visited her several times a day and did all that he could, yet never once had he removed her blindfold and often she heard a shuffling in the room that was not him, so she could only assume he was usually watched as he attended her.
Her head still ached with a ferocity that made her nauseous at times, yet it did seem to ease slightly after Leon or Tara touched it. Leon made a point to lay his hand very gently on the swelling each time he came to her. Tara would lay a soft ephemeral kiss on the swollen, throbbing lump each time Willow managed to sleep.
During the nightmarish times she woke, Willow often heard Quentin Travers. At times his voice boomed like waves pounding on the rocks, while at other times, it was the quiet whisper of the tide draining from the sand.
On two occasions he came to her chamber, telling her of his plans for her, her friends, and anyone else he even thought might be connected to Buffy. The images his words conjured were horrible and left her sobbing, causing her head to pound all the more.
She knew Giles and others were planning her escape. Tara told her every time she came and Leon often reassured her when he was alone with her in the foul bathroom.
Willow simply wished they would hurry, not knowing how much more of this she could actually endure.
In the hours before dawn, a bit more than two days since the vampires had kidnapped her, Leon came as usual to offer her food and water and escort her to the bathroom yet again. “Listen carefully, I must be quick! The rescue will take place any minute now. Quentin set a meeting with them for today at sunset, planning it to be your death. I shall try every way possible to stay with you until I hear the beginning. Then I’ll release your hands and the blindfold. If I can, I’ll try to help you out to them, but if I cannot…”
He gave her quick, yet detailed directions to the nearest exit or hiding place before they headed back to her prison. Leon knew that if she couldn’t escape, she could hide long enough for her rescuers to find her before Quentin did.
If Travers was planning her death so soon, they dared not seem to take overly long in the ‘necessary’, for fear of rousing suspicions.
The warning came just as Leon led her back into her cell. She felt him move behind her and then the press of cold metal against her wrist as he tried to cut the bindings without nicking her, leaving a blood scent for the others. Moments later, she felt the binding loosen and then Leon pulled them from her wrists.
Her arms unbound finally, Willow found she could move them only with excruciating agony that shot from her fingertips to her shoulders. Despair filled her as she realized she’d not be able to use her arms to help herself at all.
On the heels of that despair came a bit of hope when she could finally see the light of the small dank room as her blindfold was removed. However, after days of utter darkness, what small light filtered into the space, was almost blinding, yet it gave her a first glimpse of Leon.
He was only slightly taller than her, perhaps five feet-eight inches or so, slender, with a thick fall of shoulder length hair the colour of ripened wheat. His face was just saved from being thin, the curve of lip and cheek, soft; the cheek bones high and sculpted, a gift from some distant ancestor. Had he been a woman, he’d have been startling pretty, yet as a man, he was completely masculine, still managing to retain that same beauty. The eyes that looked out from that face were a deep, almost sea green. The colour of water touched by the depths of the ocean, yet clear of the debris mankind seemed determined to scatter wherever it touched.
This man… this vampire had done much to ease the torment of her captivity whenever possible and Willow wanted to make sure she knew him… make sure no one injured him, or worse- killed him by accident.
Moments later, she felt a hand at her back, Leon trying to guide her as rapidly as possible, while still having a care for her arms.
She recognized the turns from his description and knew they had made their way to an exit - just as Quentin Travers appeared between them and freedom.
“So, what have we here? I’d have thought you’d learned by now how I handle traitors, Leon. It’s most ungentlemanly of you to try and remove my playing piece before I’ve finished the game. We’ll just have to do that here then, but don’t worry. You’ll die almost as soon as she does.” Travers allowed his demonic face to the fore, preparing to reach for the frightened redhead. Before he could do more than lift his arm toward her, a brilliant light stood between the maniacal vampire and Willow and Leon.
Tara raised both arms above her as she spat out a word, lightening crackling between her fingers.
“You will not touch her!”
Willow understood that most of Tara’s energy was going to maintain a semblance of physical form and the energy of her threat. Tara’s voice was the sepulcher echo of the grave that raised the hair on Willow’s neck and sent a chill down her spine.
“You have a good show, bitch, but you’re still a ghost and can’t touch me.” Quentin took a step toward Willow only to put himself in contact with Tara. The instant he did so, energy crackled and snapped, light strobed across the room. Quentin Travers groaned and slid to the grime of the floor, unconscious as Tara’s form wavered and disappeared.
“Tara!”
“There is not time! We must hurry before he wakes! She used her energy to render him unconscious and could no longer retain physical form. She is unharmed. She is spirit!” Leon rushed Willow to the closest exit, both of them yelling at the top of their lungs.
~*~
“I think we’re ready on this end, Angie.” Giles stood in the darkness of the alleyway, impatient to finally take action and rescue Willow.
“Good. Tha’ Coven will be lendin’ a hand with tha’ younger Watchers. Ye know tha’ older ones are just daft at tha’ thought o’facin’ a vampire. Yer’self excluded, o’course. Ta’ ask’em to actually work with vampires… Och! Well, Yanni’s group would be in e’vn more danger from tha’ folks what are supposed to be helpin’em!”
Angie had arranged to have most of her Coven members as well as many of the solitary Wiccans assist in the rescue, offering whatever service at which they were best. Some would lend magickal aid, some healing, while others fought. A contingency of younger Watchers had agreed to come to the aid of their newly acting Head Watcher. Giles had emphatically stressed that the third group would consist of vampires, all of whom had souls, and that none of the Watchers would be allowed to kill any of their allies. There were a few grumbles, but eventually the Watchers agreed to a truce.
So with as many of the obstacles as possible cleared from their path, the three unlikely groups gathered to wait for the signal to attack.
Their wait was not long.
~*~
Only moments after the contingency attacked the decrepit warehouse, Giles, Yanni, Yanose and Angie set out in search of the room where Willow was being held. All around them, the Kalderash fought side by side with the Watchers and Angie’s coven members. Although some fell from each side, the vast majority was the dusty falling of Quentin’s minions.
Giles didn’t see Quentin among the mêlée and knew the ex-Watcher would try for Willow, even to spite them at the last moment. Giles could only hope they found her first, even as he prayed that Yanni’s ‘plant’ kept the young witch safe.
The small troupe had just left the main room, the fighting behind them, when they heard yelling outside the building. Knowing time of was of the essence, Yanni and Yanose turned and leapt in one of those breath-taking jumps that only the truly old, truly Master vampires can manage, finding a toe-hold on the upper catwalk moments before they jumped through the windows that encircled the roof of the building, landing outside the main room.
Not to be outdone in this emergency, Angie grabbed Giles hand as she muttered a word, transporting them twistingly, dizzily, to the walkway outside.
Giles swayed, struggling to regain his balance while Angie had no such trouble and broke into a ground-eating run. Moments later, finding his balance once more, Giles lurched after her.
Cowering in the dubious shelter of a sagging dock door, Leon held an unconscious Willow in his arms while Yanni pulled three tightly folded, thin Mylar blankets from the pouch at her waist, throwing one over Leon before handing a second to Yanose, then covering herself as well, for protection from the dim pink light of the rising sun.
“Is she alright?” Giles was frightened, seeing Willow so limp and not knowing if she had simply passed out or something much worse.
“She passed out. She must go to a hospital. Travers is down the hall about 15 feet. He may still be unconscious. Hurry!” Leon handed the fallen woman carefully to a waiting Yanni even while he called out the directions. Giles barreled back through the door, stake ready, Angie right behind him.
Exactly where Leon had indicated, a very groggy Quentin Travers attempted to struggle to an upright position. “It’s over, Quentin. It’s all over, finally.”
Travers had only a moment to look surprised as Giles shoved the sharpened stake through the ex-Watcher’s heart, seeing him crumble to dust.
Wiping the dust from his hands, Giles turned back to Angie, “Do you still have that cellular telephone? I believe we could use an ambulance.”
Leading the way back to the fallen witch, Angie telephoned for an ambulance, then handed the phone to Giles as she lent a hand to what Leon and Yanni were attempting to do.
‘Out here on the frontline
Our territory is nighttime
We walk the jungle line
We stay alive’
“Angel, NO!” In a matter of seconds, Cordelia saw Angel, took in the ferocity of expression, saw his muscles tense as he started his lunge for Lindsey. She shoved the ex-lawyer on the floor, her body between him and Angel. “Angel, it’s not what you think, not what it looks like! NO!” She grabbed his sleeve as his arm streaked past her, allowing Lindsey a few seconds to roll into an upright position.
His gaze never leaving his quarry, the demonic-visaged man growled as his arm jerked, throwing Cordelia toward the wall, while he continued his grab for Lindsey.
Cordelia quickly pulled herself up, lunging across the room to land on Angel’s back where he stood holding Lindsey against the wall by the throat. “Angel, dammit! I SAID listen to me!”
Taking an example from Spike’s previous actions, the brunette seer bit the vampire’s ear…hard.
“Ooowww!” Angel put one hand to his now bleeding ear, relaxing his hold slightly on Lindsey’s neck, allowing the man to pull a ragged breath through his abused throat.
Cordelia slid off the vampire’s back, quickly stepping around him so she could see his face.
He looked from Lindsey, pinned against the wall, to Cordelia, anger written across her features as he allowed his own features to drop back into his normal human countenance.
“If you’re ready to listen to reason, then turn Lindsey loose and stop acting like a testosterone maddened bull.” She stood, hands on her hips until Angel had done as she’s ordered. “Good. Now stop being so stupid!”
Balling her hand into a tight fist, Cordelia hit the vampire solidly in the chest. It hurt, but she wasn’t about to let him know that and she had the satisfaction of hearing the ‘oomph’ escape his lips as her fist landed. “We’d been working out….”
“Yeah, I could tell THAT part..”
“Angel, shut up! We’d been working out and finally took a break. I lay down on the floor mat like you’ve seen me do a hundred times, while Lindsey and I talked. He said that because I was a woman, I wouldn’t have the strength to move him if he was an attacker and managed to pin me full length to the ground. I said let’s try, he objected. I won the argument, as usual… but then he proved his point, cause I couldn’t budge him no matter how much I struggled. So I called a halt and he raised up, gloating at me about being right and we both laughed. Then you come in doing your macho-routine and… where do you get off trying to throw me across the room, Mister?” Anger was apparent in every word, every line of her body as she stood glaring at the tall dark-haired vampire.
“Oh! Ah…I’m sorry? I made a mistake?” Angel released Lindsey, trying to straighten the other man’s shirt collar, before Lindsey moved away, rubbing his throat.
Cordelia straight-armed Angel, pushing him away from Lindsey, further back into the room. “I’ll say you did! First you go off to Sunnydale, boink Buffy, risking your soul again, then come back, refusing to tell me anything that happened until I figure it out. I get upset and you tell me how much you care about ME, only to turn around and run off into the night again for several more days, then have the nerve to barge back in and attack Lindsey like…like you think you own ME! Well, you just better think again!” She turned, stomping from the room, heading for the stairs.
“Cordy… Cordy, stop! I’m sorry, Cordelia.” Angel took a step toward her, then stopped as she halted at the foot of the stairs, her back still toward him, hand on the stair rail. “I am. I’m sorry. About what happened in Sunnydale, about not talking to you, attacking Lindsey…” Angel glanced at the shorter man before looking again at Cordy’s back. “I’ve acted like an idiot and no, I don’t think I own you. I DO care about you and that’s why I had to leave for a day or so. I was getting some information about that problem we know I have.”
“Did they fix it or tell you a way to fix it?” Cordelia still had not turned around to face Angel, her back still straight with anger.
“Can we discuss that part in a little bit? I’ll… show both of you the trick you were trying to work out… I mean, since everybody’s already, ah, dressed for it and, ah… kinda mussed up?” Angel was a mass of conflicting emotions that he tried to squelch. He knew this was something Cordelia wanted to learn, something he wanted her to know… But he also wanted to have her back into a good mood and give her the news he’d received about the ‘tagged-on’ curse with his soul. Hopefully, if this idea worked, he’d be able to do both in a matter of minutes…
Turning away from the stairs, Cordelia stepped back toward the two men. “Alright. Show me. I think I have enough ‘mad’ going to throw you off.”
“Okay. Lay back down like you were, Cordy.” Angel suggested in the mildest tone he could muster.
While Cordelia complied with his suggestion, Angel looked at Lindsey. The shorter man still stood next to the wall, one hand gently rubbing his abused throat. Angel felt a flair of guilt for his actions, “Lin, I’m sorry, man. I- I’ll try not to ever let it happen again.”
Lindsey simply nodded. He understood Angel’s reaction. After all, hadn’t he tried to pound the vampire into the ground with a very large hammer for pretty much the same reason… jealousy? Dropping his hand from his soon-to-be-bruised throat, Lindsey walked over to a closer position where Angel was explaining to Cordelia about the movement that had started this…
“Now, first, if you’re trying to pin someone so they can’t get up, you need to do it a bit differently.” Angel instructed, “Bend your knees slightly so you can hook your feet over their legs, your toes kinda between their legs. It makes it a lot harder for them to do what I’m gonna show her.”
Angel had knelt down over Cordelia, moving into a modified position from the one he’d first seen Lindsey in, thankful that vampires didn’t blush and keeping an almost teeth-grinding grip on his own body. After he explained the modified position, Angel shifted to mirror the original one he’d discovered them in, continuing his instruction. “Now, like Lindsey, most men make this same mistake. So hook your heel over my leg, Cordelia. Good, wrap your arm around my neck, pulling me closer. Then use your other leg for leverage, pushing off with the heel of that foot, try to roll me over, instead of throwing me off.”
Cordelia did as instructed and found that although an effort, she could roll the much heavier vampire over, leaving her sitting astride him as he lay on the floor. “Okay, I see how that works. It’s kinda hard to do, but yeah…”
Angel knew that now was the moment to tell her. Looking up into her face, he slid his hands up her arms, feeling his own body react to the close proximity of her. “Cordelia, that problem with my soul is gone.”
“Gone?” Stunned, she relaxed where
she sat, on top of Angel, instantly aware of his reaction to her.
“Gone. Completely gone.”
The slender brunette had been resting her hands on her own thighs, but a certain darkness filled her eyes and she slid her hands slowly up Angel’s sides toward his chest, while leaning just as slowly down toward him. With never a glance behind her, she said only three words before covering Angel’s lips with her own. “Lindsey, OUT! Now!”
The ex-lawyer beat a hasty retreat up the stairs closing the door firmly behind him when he reached the top, before heading to his own room for a very cold shower.
~*~
‘It's daybreak
And you are asleep
I can hear you breathe now
Your breath is so deep’
Buffy woke slowly, feeling the weight of Spike’s body curled along her back, his arm wrapped around her waist, the tickle of his breath along the back of her neck. It was comforting and so incredible to even think about, Spike actually breathing; his heart beating against her back.
Buffy snuggled slightly against him even more, feeling content for a few moments until the reality of Willow’s danger thrust itself into the forefront of her mind again.
Knowing she could only wait for Giles to call her back, even with the assurances Faith gave them several times a day, Buffy lay against Spike’s nude body and worried.
Within minutes of waking, the petite blonde felt the growing rise of something uncomfortable in the pit of her stomach. The sensation grew until she could no longer remain still and she slid away from the warmth of her lover, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, reaching for a robe.
The growing sensation hit full force with no further warning.
Buffy bolted from the bed to the bathroom, flinging herself to her knees on the floor in front of the toilet barely in time, as she retched, one hand holding her hair back while the other tried to cling to the wall.
“Buffy, what’s wrong? Are you okay, love?” Spike woke when she jumped from the bed, following her to the bathroom when he heard the sound of her being ill.
“Yeah… Fine… Dandy… as in, NOT!” Buffy’s words came between spasms of nausea and throwing up.
“I’ll go get some help, Buffy. I’ll be right back.”
“Spike… Naked!”
“Oh, yeah.” The blonde day-walker grabbed Buffy’s robe from the floor next to the bed, taking it into the bathroom and wrapping it securely around her naked form. On the way back trough their room, he slipped into his jeans before he headed quickly downstairs. He smelled the coffee and knew someone was already up for the day.
Wesley, Dawn and Faith sat in the kitchen around the table, two of them held cups, the steam gently rising from the contents. Faith looked wistful at Dawn’s cup, which was the closer of the two.
“ ‘Bit, Wes… Buffy’s sick. Something’s really wrong. She’s throwing up.” The problem relayed, Spike left the kitchen, crossing the hallway and back up the stairs, almost at a run, hearing the chairs scrap against the flooring as Dawn and Wesley, probably along with Faith, followed him.
~*~
Buffy sat on the floor, her robe now on and belted, her head resting against the cool porcelain of the edge of the bowl. Her normally golden tan complexion looked pale, even against the startling white of the ceramic.
Entering the bathroom, everyone tried to talk at once, all with queries as to how Buffy was feeling, what was wrong… Overwhelmed with the sound, her head splitting and her stomach decidedly not her friend, Buffy weakly help up a hand for silence. “No, I have no idea what’s wrong other than I’ve been trying to throw up my insides. Maybe it’s just that I’m so worried about Willow.”
“Buffy, when we were attacked the other night at the cemetery, didn’t you say you were feeling a bit off?” Wesley was concerned and suspicious as to the cause of Buffy’s sudden illness.
“Yeah, but it went away. I was
alright, just not enough sleep or something. This is just from worry. If I can
get a cup of tea, I’ll be fine. You guys just let me get dressed. Spike’ll help
me.” Buffy tried reassuring all of them as they watched her. Like they think
I’m gonna grow horns or something any second…
“Alright. I’ll make you some tea. Would you like sugar in it?” Wesley asked, anything but reassured by Buffy’s paleness and his own concerns regarding her illness.
The thought of sugar in her tea made Buffy’s stomach do a threatening flip, “No. no sugar, Wes. I think I’ll have it straight this morning.”
Wesley simply nodded in agreement before leaving the small room, motioning Dawn and Faith to accompany him.
Once the room was empty again except for she and Spike, he helped Buffy up from the floor, coaxed her to wash her face, helped her dress and in general suggested she try to relax and take things easy for a while.
She was more than happy to oblige.
~*~
“Dawn, while I make Buffy some toast to go along with her tea, please run pick up an item for me. Do NOT stray! Go there and right back. Faith, please accompany her.” Wesley reached in his wallet and handed a folded bill to the young Slayer.
Faith moved next to Wesley, leaning in until it looked at though she was planning to actually lean inside his head. “Sure thing, boss. You think B’s preggers, don’t’cha?” Without waiting for an answer, Faith popped outside to wait for Dawn.
~*~
‘Open the door
And show me your face tonight
I know it's true
No one heals me like you
And you hold the key’
Rupert Giles sat slumped in bedside chair of the hospital room.
Willow lay flat in the hospital issue bed, two bottles hanging from the shining metal IV pole. Each bottle had its own bit of plastic tubing that ran first into a ‘Y’ connector, then into a single plastic IV line and finally into the colorful hub of the plastic catheter that had been inserted into a vein in the back of the young witch’s hand.
She lay motionless, after having roused long enough to see Giles and Angie beside her bed, and lapsing into unconsciousness again. Angie had finally gone home, but Giles couldn’t leave, couldn’t leave her there alone.
Stark white bandages swathed her head, making it appear larger than he knew it was. Red, black and white wires trailed out of the top of her gown, plugged into a machine on a side table. The steady green jagged line and constant, soft blip of the heart monitor reassured Giles as he waited.
The doctors said she had a concussion and questioned them about a half-healed fracture of her skull directly under the swollen discolored lump on the side of her head. Angie and Giles had both denied knowing anything about it other than that she’d been attacked and hit in the head during the scuffle. The Watcher knew he was telling the truth, but Angie… His old friend wouldn’t quite meet his eyes.
In addition to the head trauma, Willow had one shoulder that had been dislocated and the other severely strained, according to the doctors. They assured him there was no permanent damage and that she should heal fine.
They were giving her one fluid for mild dehydration and the other was full of an exotic cocktail of antibiotics, vitamins and an anti-inflammatory to reduce the swelling of her wounds.
Arriving at the hospital, they’d been swarmed by a small horde of uniformed people who’d whisked the redhead away, checking, prodding, filming, connecting and hooking her to various things, such as the monitor and IV.
Once the doctor had spoken with them, they’d finally been allowed into Willow’s room.
Giles checked on Willow to reassure himself, then asked Angie to stay with her while he called Buffy.
He told the young blonde everything the doctors had told him, including the events of Willow’s rescue. Buffy had thanked him before suddenly handing the telephone to Spike.
“Where did Buffy go? Is she alright?” Giles was startled that Buffy would leave the telephone in the middle of his tale regarding her best friend’s welfare.
“She’s been a bit under the weather all day. Said she was just worried about ‘Red. Don’t know though…” Spike told Giles, but he’d watched Buffy as she’d once more run for the bathroom, hand held tightly over her mouth.
“She IS alright, isn’t she Spike?” Giles didn’t know how he could handle both women being ill or injured on opposite sides of the Atlantic at the same time.
“Yeah. I think she is, ‘cept for a bit of tossin’ her cookies. Wes sent Dawn and Faith to the pharmacy for something for her. They ought to be back in a bit. Pro'lly is just upset about her friend there. Want me to have her call you back later?” Spike had his suspicions about what Wesley had sent Slayer and ghost for…
“I-I’ll call her, Spike. I want to wait until Willow wakes up so I can give Buffy a progress report.”
Spike could hear the relief in Giles’ voice, and tried to assure him further, “Good idea. She’ll start feeling better now that she knows Willow is okay.”
Giles had spoken with Wesley for a minute or so, the younger Watcher also replied that he felt there was nothing seriously wrong with Buffy, before they rang off.
Giles returned to Willow’s room, where he’d taken up residence in the chair he still occupied.
Finally, after what seemed hours, Willow stirred slightly, a soft moan escaping her lips as her unfettered hand slowly groped across the covers toward him.
Sliding his chair closer, Giles caught the small, slender hand between his own, raising it gently to his lips to press a soft kiss on her fingertips. “Willow…I’m here, dear. The doctors said you’re going to be fine. Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”
There was no reply from the young woman in the bed.
Giles pressed his cheek to the back of her hand, almost wanting to sob, knowing he dare not. “Willow, you have to get better. You have to be alright. I-I find that I need you. Rather a good deal more than I thought possible.”
Her hand twitched slightly where it lay in his, pressed against his face.
He had to lean closer, hating to ask her to repeat what she had tried to say, pulling her hand away from his face as thought he’d been caught doing something he should feel guilty for. “I couldn’t hear you, Willow. I’m sorry. Can you try again to tell me what you need?”
Her voice was raspy, a bare whisper, “N-not me. You. Need a shave.”
Unsure whether to laugh or cry, Giles found he had to swallow in order to speak past a lump in his throat. “Yes. Yes, I do. I’ve neglected that while you were gone, I fear. I-we, were worried about you. Shaving didn’t seem too important just then. Are you alright?”
“Ummm. Head hurts. Tha’ bad guys gotta stop hittin’ me inna head. Gonna make me crazy that way.”
Chuckling in spite of himself, Giles tried surreptitiously to wipe the trace of moisture from his eye before it spilled over. “Yes, we can’t allow any more ‘bad guys’ to hit you in the head, or anywhere else for that matter. But no, you’re not going to go crazy.”
“Good. Head hurts too bad to be crazy. Leon okay? W-what happened?”
Giles struggled to keep his heart from falling to the floor… If she’d fallen for the young-looking vampire… “Leon is fine. It seems he was a plant by Yanni to help protect you. You should have told me you met Yanni and Yanose.”
“Sure. First time I see you, Giles. Leon…took care of me. Him and Tara.”
“Buffy told me that they had gone to talk to Tara, asked her to find you and help you. Faith suggested it to them. I-I’m glad she was with you…to help you, give you comfort. Travers is gone, Willow. I staked him myself. He’ll never threaten you again, nor anyone else for that matter. Now you need to rest. That’s a nasty bump on your head, the doctor said. I’ll just step out to get a bite to eat while you sleep, now that I know you’re better.” He didn’t want to be anywhere except by her side, but if she was attracted to the vampire… Giles could see Leon had been the type that women would find appealing, and more than anything he wanted Willow to be happy…
“D-don’t go! Stay with me, Giles. Better if I know you’re here.”
“Alright. I’ll stay here, Willow. Angie will be back soon and I can get her to find a sandwich and…” He noticed Willow had fallen asleep again, her breathing slow and regular, the steady blip of the heart monitor keeping them both company. He felt the sheer panic that had attempted to seize him begin to dissipate. He’d needed to know that she needed him there, wanted him there.
“…coffee for me. I’ll be right here, Willow, for as long as you will let me.”
Leaning back in his chair, Giles continued to hold her hand, as he closed his eyes, attempting to relax somewhat. In doing so, he completely missed the small up-curving of one corner of her mouth as she smiled slightly before real sleep claimed her.
~*~
“Buffy, I think you need to, ah, make use of this. If it’s as I suspect… Well, we need to know as soon as possible, I should think.” Wesley felt awkward as he handed her the small package containing the pregnancy test he’d had Dawn pick up the previous morning.
Glancing inside the bag, Buffy read the label on the box, then looked back at Wesley, her eyes filled with surprise. “You’ve got to be kidding, Wes. I mean…Willow said that I wasn’t. It can’t be that.”
“Yes, Willow said that you weren’t. Then. However, since that time, Spike has come home and… Well, shall we just say that the two of you are rather vocal at times?”
The faint pink colour crept out from the neck of her shirt, climbing her face to the roots of her hair.
“Oh… I… I’m not sure what to say other than sorry? I didn’t know we were that loud. I, uh, I’ll go check things out now.”
Almost running up the stairs, Buffy closed the door of her room behind her with an audible thump.
She stood there, just inside the doorway, staring at the small bag with unseeing eyes, afraid to find out the truth, afraid not to know.
She withdrew the box, tossing the bag in the trashcan beside the bed and headed into the bathroom.
~*~
Some minutes later, a pale, shaken Buffy walked into the kitchen where Spike sat quietly with Wesley, each with a cup of coffee in their hands. “Spike, can I speak to you for a minute?”
The blonde day-walker glanced at the brunette Watcher before rising to follow Buffy from the kitchen. As soon as they were alone in the living room, Buffy grabbed Spike’s arm, unsure whether to panic or not. “Spike… the line turned colours!”
“Buffy, love, I have no idea what that means. Wanna un-vague that for me, please?” In truth, Spike did know what it meant, but needed Buffy to say it out loud. Knew she needed to say the words for both of them.
Wesley had quietly followed Spike from the kitchen and now stood to one side of the couple.
“It means, Spike, that the two of you are pregnant.”
“Pregnant? You mean as in Buffy’s gonna have a baby?” Spike kept his pretense of ignorance, somewhat irritated that Wesley had answered instead of Buffy having to do so.
“That’s pretty much the only ‘pregnant’ I’m aware of in that particular context, so yes.” Wesley’s tone was dry, amused.
“Is…” Knowing this would be everyone’s concern, as well as one that he’d considered repeatedly himself, Spike chose to simply get the question out into the open. After what had happened with Buffy and Angel, it was the reason Spike had felt Buffy needed to face the possibility rather than allow it to worry her in silence.
“Spike, Willow scanned her quite well. This has occurred since you arrived back home.”
“W-would you hate me… if…” Buffy was near tears.
Pulling her into his arms, Spike gently kissed her before looking down into her tear-blurred eyes.
“Buffy, I thought you understood by now that I love you. I’m glad Wesley thinks it’s mine, but no matter who… I’d still love you. We’re pregnant, Buffy!” Having said what was needed, explained how he felt,
Spike picked her up, spinning around in his exuberance as the news finally registered completely. “We’re gonna have a baby, Buffy!”
“Spike…stop! If you don’t put me down, you’re gonna have me throw up on you.” Buffy did sound somewhat strangled and had developed a pale greenish tinge to her complexion. Spike quickly lowered her until her feet touched the floor again; then stepped back as she once more clapped one hand over her mouth and bolted for the bathroom.
“Well, this certainly should be interesting to see how she slays while throwing up at the same time.”
Wesley leaned a shoulder against the wall, an amused chuckle in his eye.
Spike shot a look at the Watcher that should peel paint from the wall before taking the stairs two at a time to check on Buffy.
~*~
‘You are the light
That's leading me to the place
Cordelia swept her sweaty hair from her face with one hand before reaching to cup Angel’s cheek in the same hand. “Angel… That was… You’re… Oh, hell… I love you, Angel.”
He pressing his face into her hand, he pulled the fallen sheet over her nude back. “Tell me again, Cordy. Without the swearing, love.”
Cordelia pushed upward onto one elbow so she could look down into his face. “I love you, Angel. I love you.”
Pulling her so that she spilled across his bare chest, the dark-haired vampire wrapped both arms around her, holding her close. “I love you too, Cordelia. Being with you… you have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Then why don’t you tell me? Lots of detail is good.” Happy as she was, Cordelia couldn’t resist teasing Angel
Rolling over so that he covered her, Angel had other ideas. “How about I show you first, then tell you?” His mouth found the soft skin of her neck, just over the normally soft pulse that now beat like some wild, captive thing, as he stroked the throbbing warmth of it with the tip of his tongue.
She clutched at him, holding him to her, “Yes! Oh, yes!”
~*~
‘You calm the storms
And you give me rest
You hold me in your hands
You won't let me fall’
Finally back home, or rather, back at Giles’ flat that seemed like home now, Willow woke and was seized momentarily by panic until the glow from the small nightlight reassured her. Lying still, she reflected on the conversation she’d just had with Tara.
+ Willow, he
loves you. It’s okay to go to him, Honey. I love you, you know that. I want you
to be happy. I’ll never be far away, but I can’t be the one now. He can. And
you care about him too. +
+ Are you sure, Tara? I explained what they said I needed to do… You’re okay with that? I told you how I feel about him, but I love you too. I miss you. +
+ I know, I
miss you too. I know it feels awkward now, but it won’t be forever. It’ll just
be different. Remember, you always did have a crush on him… And yes, I’m sure.
I can’t push you there, Will. I mean it when I say I want you happy. Now go,
love. +
Regardless of her comments, Willow could almost feel Tara’s hands on her back, pushing her the way the lost witch denied was possible. A smile curving her mouth, Willow got out of bed, heading first to the bathroom. Afterwards, instead of returning to her own room, she entered Giles’ room, stopping for a moment just to watch him sleep.
A tiny reserve of nervousness lingered, even through she was comfortable with what she was about to do.
Willow slid into the bed, under the covers and wiggled closer to the sleeping warmth of him. She’d had to tug the pillow from his arms, but understood why he’d held it close as he slept. For exactly the same reasons she did. Winding her arm around him, Willow snuggled closer, laying a soft kiss on his lips.
Even in sleep, he responded, returning her kiss, his arm going around her.
The kiss lasted only a moment before Willow pulled back. This had to be his decision too, but she was going to do everything possible to help him make the right one.
“Willow, what are you doing here?” He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not. He’d wanted her here with him, but since coming back from the hospital, he’d told himself she needed to heal, that she wasn’t ready to move into a relationship. He’d been afraid to admit how he felt. But if she was here because of a nightmare again…
“Giles, haven’t we already had this discussion before?” Willow suddenly felt older, wiser than him. He had no idea she’d heard his ‘confessions’ in the hospital while he thought she slept, knew that he cared for her… Knew that armed with that potent weapon, this was one ‘skirmish’ between the sexes that she was going to win.
“That was ages ago, or it seems as though it were. I meant now. You kissed me.” He wanted her more than he thought possible. He’d known her as a girl, a child! As she’d told him that first morning, she was a girl no longer, but a woman. He was almost desperate for her to not be here because of a nightmare… or due to any misplaced feelings of gratitude.
“Nice of you to notice. I’m here because I want to be here, Giles. Unless, of course, you tell me you don’t want me here.” Willow had decided she wasn’t going to take no for an answer unless he said very plainly and pointedly that he didn’t want her. If he did… Well, she didn’t know how she’d handle it, if he’d changed his mind, or if she was wrong about what he’d said to her while he was unaware she heard.
He pulled back slightly, straining to see her in the near darkness. Since her ordeal, they’d made a point to have a small night light in each room. The darkness still caused her momentary panic; even after the work he and Angie had done with her to cure the reaction. “Do you understand what you’re asking me?” Giles needed her to understand that this couldn’t be a ‘fling’ on his part with her.
The slender redhead raised her hand to stroke his cheek before she answered. “Yes. I know exactly what I’m asking. You keep answering my questions with questions, Rupert. I know where I am and I want to be here. If you don’t want me here, then you have to say so.” She wanted him to stop questioning her presence. Now that she was here, in the warmth of his bed, his arms around her, desire rose inside of her making her almost dizzy. She’d not expected to feel such intensity this quickly and the through flashed through her mind that perhaps what she’d thought was a crush in high school had actually been much more…
Giles trailed the tip of one finger across the edge of her lips, along her jaw line and down her neck, sending shivers down her spine that pulled a fine hot line to much lower parts of her body. Her skin felt swollen, hot, from the touch of his hand. “I thought I’d lost you. I don’t ever want to feel that way again. That’s when I finally understood how much you mean to me, Willow. This… whatever this is we’re doing… This isn’t something we should take lightly. Once we start, we can’t go back.” He was afraid that if she really meant what she was saying, and he moved too quickly, that he’d frighten her away…
“No, Rupert, we can’t. But as Tara keeps telling me, we can go forward. It’s what I want to do… go forward. But I want to do that with you. I can’t promise you that you’ll never feel that way again, but if you do, it won’t be because of anything I would do deliberately. None of us know the future. I know the present though and I know I want this.”
Willow slid her hand along the back of his neck, feeling the prickle of the small hairs there, grown out since his last haircut. She pulled him to her while raising her face to cover his lips with hers.
The dam he’d created inside himself gave way, flooding him with pent-up emotions.
With a groan that Willow echoed back, he returned the kiss, nibbling at her mouth, drinking of her like a fine wine.
Hands fumbled at buttons, finally pulling the last recalcitrant one until it gave way; then slid across skin, caressing the sensitive spots they found.
Each of them seeking, seeking…
Her hand held the smooth, velvet hardness of him, urging him gently but relentlessly to where she wanted him. She felt the tip of him graze the dampness from where she was melting inside. Felt him gently work his way into that hot wetness, her body expanding to take him in, take him deeper…
He filled her and she clung to him, wanting him closer still, to share his skin, to slip inside of him as he had done to her… Wanting to be a part of him.
‘And not be moved by you’
He moved inside of her. She felt her skin grow tight, twitching across every nerve ending, threatening to pull her apart. He filled her up like a cup, until that rising warmth spread across her, through her, and overflowed in a spine-bowing rush, pulling a cry from both of them as they found what they had sought.
“Oh, God. Giles.. Rupert… Oh, Goddess!”
His wordless cry echoed hers.
They lay entangled, breath coming in gasps, hearts pounding against each other for long moments.
He held her to him, turning carefully to his side, bringing her with him, remaining sheathed in warmth.
“Willow…” Giles felt the emotions within him threaten to overwhelm him. He’d not expected this. He needed to tell her, needed her, “ Willow, I love you. I thought I’d lost you. I love you.”
She was amazed. At him, her feelings, that Tara, and Angie and Yanni had all been right… And he loved her too! “I love you, Rupert. I’m not lost, I’m here.” She held him close, unwilling to let him go. All the time she’d known him and had no idea of what was to come…
Giles thought the words before he said them, surprised, but not… He knew he’d never expected to find a woman he would actually ask, “Marry me, please. Let me take care of you, love you.”
Willow could hear Tara’s happiness for her, knew that this was the right thing to do, the place she’d moved to in her life. There was only one answer she could give him. “I love you. Yes, I will.”
~*~
EPILOGUE
Giles and Willow flew back to Sunnydale for Spike and Buffy’s wedding.
It was a small, quiet affair held in the woods surrounding the lake, where there was a small pavilion to shelter Angel from the sunlight.
Although wary of asking him, Buffy had known it was something she had to do, a courtesy, a respect, she owed Angel for all they had meant to each other.
Cordelia and Lindsey had come up from L.A. with Angel, for the occasion. When Buffy had opened the door the previous evening, Angel’s fingers were securely intertwined with Cordelia’s and for the first time in a long while, the dark-haired vampire wasn’t brooding. Buffy had been truly happy for both of them.
Wesley had made a quiet visit to see a particular demon shortly while before the wedding. The small package of papers that came later, had been a wedding present from the younger Watcher and surprisingly enough, the little weasel-faced demon. It was identification for Spike.
Angie decided at the last minute to fly over with Giles and Willow, after hearing them speculate on how immune the blonde day-walker might or might not be now to holy objects, what kinds of questions a regular minister might have for Spike.
So, in her capacity as a Wiccan Priestess, Angie insisted that she perform the marriage ceremony for Buffy and Spike.
~*~
“Buffy, you look positively radiant! The dress is gorgeous!”
“Thanks, Will. Anya and Dawn helped me find it.” Buffy stood talking with her best friend while the redhead helped put her hair up.
The dress was the soft ivory of old silk. The neck was cut wide, barely clinging to the edge of Buffy’s shoulders. The waist was raised slightly but not a true empire line and the long lines of the silk creation clung to her curves, but not tightly. Buffy had not reached the stage that her pregnancy showed yet, but she was conscious of the fact that she was, and had wanted to avoid a tight dress.
Spike had managed to locate an old-fashioned, almost Victorian jacket, with Wesley’s help. The slender blonde had paired the jacket with equally slender slacks, a shade darker than the jacket and a silk shirt the dark blue of deep, still water that made the blue of his eyes more intense, a startling colour in the slight tan of his face.
He’d probably never really tan well, but Spike took every opportunity to turn his face to the sunlight.
It was finally time.
Willow and Giles stood with the pair as Angie’s richly accented voice spoke the words that united Spike and Buffy even closer, before finally signing the papers that made it legal.
A bit of questioning previously had helped Wesley determine the area of England in which Spike had lived so many years before, then the Watcher had used it for his last name on the identification that had been procured.
Thus, Mr. and Mrs. William Suffolk had their reception at the Summers’ home.
~*~
Two months later, Buffy, Spike, Dawn and Wesley had flown to England.
Giles had worried about seeming hasty, but Willow assured him it was better for Buffy to fly before her pregnancy became too advanced.
Willow had chosen a robe instead of a more traditional wedding dress. The soft leaf green of the silky fabric contrasted with her hair, causing it to shine like molten copper.
She’d gotten a beautiful pale blue robe of similar cut for Buffy, but readily told Spike and Giles that she didn’t care what they wore, as long as they were there and on time.
The weather was cool, but sunny, as they walked out into the small stone circle. Candles were everywhere. Angie had acquired beautiful wreaths of flowers for both women to wear around their hair.
Giles was more casual than Buffy thought she’d ever seen him, wearing a soft shirt of dark hunter green over a long sleeved, deep, dusty gold shirt. He’d paired them with heavy gabardine slacks in a rich brown.
“Giles, you look wonderful. You and Willow both. I’m really happy for you. Surprised, but happy.”
“Thank you, Buffy. I had no idea that… Is this how you feel?” Giles had not gotten over the newness of his relationship with Willow, or how deep his feelings were for the younger woman. He hoped that he never lost the intensity of how he felt, but he also wanted to know that Buffy was… He’d seen her agony over previous relationships, especially with Angel…
“You mean, happy? Yeah. Oh it’s not perfect, but then what is? Spike and I are not a normal couple; we live on the Hellmouth and slay vampires and demons as our job.” Buffy glanced down her body with a rueful expression. “I’m turning into a little butterball, but yeah, this is what it’s like. We’re happy.”
Buffy looked back at the man that was so much like a father to her.
“I’m glad. You, of course, do understand that no matter what else, you are still always MY Slayer?”
He smiled, letting her know he was teasing her beneath the serious tone. He’d made a point to tell her earlier how much he cared for her.
“As long as you know that you are permanently my Watcher…Just because you got elected as the Head dude now, don’t think you can pawn me off to someone else.” Buffy knew that while they would probably never express their feelings to each other very often, the teasing they did let them know they cared.
“Never, Buffy. Can you imagine what they’d do to me if I were to inflict you and Spike on them? Should I live through it, they’d never allow me to hear the end of it.” Giles struggled to keep his features serious, but the outraged look his petite blonde Slayer wore, ruined that plan and he laughed hardily before pulling her into a hug. “Your happiness is what I’ve wanted most for you, Buffy.”
“Hey, Buffy, are you over here snugglin’ with my fellow?” Willow walked over to tuck her hand through Giles arm, smiling at her best friend.
“Yep. You leave him alone for a minute, he’s mine, Will.” Buffy smiled back at Willow.
“Go get yours Buffy, before he drives Angie crazy with questions. I think she’s ready to start.”
Buffy caught the look that said Willow wanted a moment alone with Giles. Kissing both of them on the cheek, Buffy headed over to rescue Angie from Spike.
Tucking her arms through his to encircle his waist, Willow looked up at the older man. “Still want to do this? No regrets?”
“I regret many of the things I did in my sinful youth; that I have to work such long hours away from you, currently. I regret that you were injured in any way after arriving here, but I do not regret that I love you and am about to marry you, Willow Rosenberg.” Giles shot her a sly look, “Unless you have some regrets?”
“Nope. Not a one. At least none that concern you, Giles. Just the usual ones that you already mentioned. Guess we all have regrets behind us, but that’s where they are, behind us and we’re going forward, right?” Willow glanced toward the row of standing stones, seeing Angie and Buffy motioning frantically. “But I’m bettin’ Angie will make us regret not getting’ over there if we make her come get us.”
Reluctantly releasing his embrace on the small redhead, Giles captured her hand as they walked toward the waiting group. “I suspect you’re quite correct. After the fuss she made about being the only person she’d allow to do our wedding, I think we should certainly humor her and attend it.”
Laughing, they approached the onlookers
~*~
As simple and elegant as Angie had kept the ceremony for Spike and Buffy, the older witch had decided to go all out for this one. Of course, she ‘had all of her tools here’ as she’d explained to them.
Regardless of her reasons, she did exactly as she’d promised, but the extra flourishes only added to the beauty of the ceremony.
Buffy stood next to Willow with Spike standing as Giles’ best man, something that surprised everyone when the Watcher had asked.
Pulling her attention back to the proceedings, Buffy felt the dampness fill her eyes as she listened to the words that closed the ceremony. They were the same ones Angie had used for she and Spike. Glancing across to see her husband watching her, the love he felt for her was evident in every line of his expressive face.
“As these two hearts have combined like the flame of their candles, made strong by love;
May
the light of their love become a beacon by which they may always find one
another. These children of the Gods have lit a candle in the darkness of the
world. May it always burn with a steady light and if it should flicker or
threaten to go out, may both raise a hand to guard and shield it.
For the candle of their love may well assist other travelers on the road of life.
So Mote It Be.”
Angie looked at the couple, a secret smile curving her mouth.
“Ye can be kissin’ tha bride now, Rupert.”
“I think that is an excellent idea.”
He followed word with deed as he pulled Willow into his arms, kissing her with the same passion he’d felt that first night.
Finally breaking the kiss so both could catch their breath… and to end the foot-tapping and muttered comments of their guests, Giles saw a flash of light from something shiny among the trees.
“What was that? Buffy, did you see something at the edge of the woods?”
“Yeah, should Spike and I go check it out? Do you think it was a problem?”
“Tis nae problem at'll. Just a bit of a surprise for ye back at yer flat, Rupert, Willow. We might should be headin’ that way as soon as I clear way a few things. Och! Leave the incense to burn. ‘Tis safe. An' tha’ birds will be thankful for the bread. William, would ye be carryin’ this basket for an old woman?”
“The day you get old, Angie, is a long time from now.” He took the basket she’d packed with her various implements, “What tha’ bloody h…, ah, sorry. What did you put in here? It weighs a ton!”
“A bit of this an’ a bit of that. Does she nae let ye get enou’h sleep, William?” The matching shocked expressions from the blonde couple were enough to satisfy her, as she walked with a firm, striding step toward Giles’ building.
~*~
Giles scooped Willow up into his arms to carry her across the threshold of the flat.
“Careful, don’t hit my head”, Willow cautioned her new husband.
“Of course, dear. We’d not want to make you crazy, after all.” Her comments at the hospital had become a running joke between them since he’d told her about them.
Setting the redhead’s feet firmly on the floor, he noticed the noises drifting from the kitchen and looked back at Angie, knowing she’d had a hand in this too. “Do we have company?”
“Aye, ye do. ‘Tis time the rest of the family met everyone.”
Yanni and Yanose walked from the kitchen holding platters of food and the small wedding cake Willow had wanted.
It was several hours before the newlywed couple could escape, and even then, Buffy and Spike were still asking questions of the two Kalderash vampires.
~*~
“Well, we have met them. Are you happy with what we’ve nurtured so carefully over these long years?”
“Yes. It has all been for the best. She is all we could have hoped for. The power and purpose fill her. Just to look into her eyes is to see the strength, to see all who have gone before to create her. In her, they rise from the flames like the phoenix.”
“We have wrought well, Yanose.”
~*~
Spike and Giles had finally gotten new ‘800’ numbers for both households so Buffy and Willow could talk without every phone bill amounting to a small fortune.
The two women had been on the telephone for about an hour, as they compared notes and caught up on the gossip.
“It’s just so hard to believe that you actually had a skull fracture, Will. So every time Leon or Tara touched your head, they were actually healing it a bit?”
“That’s what Yanni told me. Then, of course, she and Angie did the major healing after they got me out of that horrible place, so no wonder the doctors were confused. Angie promises she and Yanni will teach me how to do that now that I’ve had little Tara.”
“Trust me. They couldn’t possibly be as bad as Spike and Wesley were that last month before I had Brendan!”
“Don’t count on it! So when are you gonna send us some more pictures of the little tyke?”
“Little? Geeze, Will, I wonder sometimes how I ever manage to slay any demons at all when just holding him practically breaks my arm. He’s thirty pounds now!”
“I’m glad then that Tara is only fifteen so far. You do know that they’re all speculating as to whether or not she’ll grow up to be a Watcher or a Slayer, don’t you?”
“I’m not surprised. They already have the two of them married!”
“Oooo! Speaking of which, how is Cordelia doing?”
“Still throwing her toenails up every morning. Angel’s insufferable.”
“Well, now that Connor’s is back from that other dimension and all grown, how does he feel about having a little brother of sister?”
“They say he’s looking forward to it. Connor wants to spoil his sibling-to-be as much as Angel and Cordy do…”
“At least they don’t have to worry about the teeth.”
“Yeah. I didn’t think we’d ever get Brendan to stop teething on the furniture, especially when he gets upset.”
“Well, like mother, like son.”
“Will! I never chewed the furniture! But on the subject of chewing, I need to go make lunch for Brendan. Give Giles and my niece a kiss for me and my love to Yanni, Yanose and Angie when you see them. Gotta run, love you, Will.”
“Love you too, Buffy. Hug my nephew and Spike. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”
~*~
Wesley and Dawn had finished their training session at the mansion and were ready to head out on patrol, when the slim, young Slayer stopped, turning to lay a hand on her Watcher’s arm. Something he’d said reminded her of a previous conversation with Buffy. “Wes, I never did thank you for agreeing to come back here to be my Watcher. I know Buffy and Giles were matched up so well… and I think that we’re lucky to be just as well matched. So, what I’m trying to tell you, is thank you. For being here, for putting up with me and for being my friend, for everything, Wesley.”
“Why, thank you, Dawn. I’m glad to be here. You’ve helped me as much as I’ve tried to help you. Before they asked me to come back here, I was lost and certain that a bad end was in store for me. I’m glad I’m here.”
“You’re so cute, Wes. Let’s go kill some bad guys.” Dawn stood on tiptoe, quickly placing a shy kiss on his cheek before grabbing her weapons bag and heading out the door.
“Wes… flies, dude. Close your mouth and go catch your Slayer.” Faith stood just inside the doorway watching them for a long moment before joining the hunt.
“Of course, I think she’s plannin’ to catch you”, the ghostly Slayer remarked to no one in particular.
~*~
Lindsey looked up from the book he was studying as the front door of the hotel opened. He dropped the book on the desk, hurrying around it as a slender, well-built brunette with a pixie-ish face and laughing eyes walked toward him, her hand extended.
Shaking the woman’s hand, Lindsey asked the normal question they all used for walk-ins.
“Hi, Welcome to Angel Investigations. Is there something we can do to help you? My name is Lindsey and you are…?”
The voice was sultry. It had a warm, purring quality that sent a shiver down the ex-lawyer’s spine.
“I received a phone call from a young woman named Cordelia. She told me to ask for you specifically. She said you could tell me about my sister. I’ve not seen her in years, not since she was Called as the Slayer. Oh, I know she’s dead now, but I’d still like to know about her. Her name was Faith. Mine is Hope.”
“I’ll be happy to tell you everything I can, Hope. Do you have a place to stay in town? This could take a while.”
But don't, be ashamed to cry, let me see you through
'Cause I've seen the dark side too
When the night falls on you, and you don't know what to do
Nothing you confess, could make me love you less
When you're standing at the crossroads,
but don't know, which path to choose
Let me come alone, 'cause even if you're wrong
Take me in to, your darkest hour
And I'll never desert you, I'll stand by you
I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt
you, I'll stand by you
Gillian Silverlight
11/2/2002