Part XIII
“You’re not goin’ alone.”
Spike had been saying it for the past ten minutes, as though repetition would induce her to listen to him. As it was, it was a miracle that there wasn’t a trench in the middle of the library for as heavy as his paces were. His concern ripped through her body in torrents, accompanied with the sharpness of his outrage that Angelus would make such a demand of her. He knew what his grandsire was trying to do just as well as she did, and as he’d told her adamantly, he wasn’t going to allow it.
“He wants you in the open. He’s playin’ you, luv. I’ve seen this happen countless bloody times, an’ it’s always the same!”
“Don’t you think he knows that you know that you’ve seen him do this? The immolation-o-gram was pretty specific. No one but me.” She shivered and glanced to Giles, his eyes heavy and sullen, lost in thought. “What do you think?”
Giles was quiet for a long minute. “I don’t think you should go alone,” he said softly. “It would be best if Spike was with you.”
“And if Angelus doesn’t show?” Buffy shook her head. She deliberately chose to ignore the rush of pleased surprise that came from her Watcher’s open acknowledgment that her mate came with at least some benefits. In the two days that had passed since the huge blow-up, she and her friends had tentatively attempted to patch things back together—though Xander always looked on edge whenever she moved, as though his presence alone was enough to warrant another black eye. “If I go with Spike, Angelus will know it before we even set foot in the cemetery, and then this whole thing is blown.
“We just need to buy time before he attempts the ritual,” Giles argued. “His coming to you indicates that the ritual is near completion.”
“The good version or the wonky version, Jeeves?” Spike asked, jamming a cigarette between his lips.
“Hopefully the…there is no smoking on school property.”
The vampire arched a flawless brow, blatantly unapologetic, and lit up. “’m sorry to hear that,” he said.
Giles stared at him for a long minute, then heaved out a defeated breath and shook his head, wearily eying Buffy. “Once the apocalypse is over,” he said slowly, “I think it might be best for everyone if he…doesn’t accompany you when you see me for a while.”
She offered a dry grin. “Please, Giles. He’s my boyfriend, not my escort. The only reason he’s here is because of Angelus, anyway.”
“I assure you, Watcher,” Spike added, puffing out a pillar of smoke. “Once the enormous ponce is dust, you won’ see me ’til the world needs savin’ again.”
“Could I get that in writing?”
“Guys!” Buffy tossed up her hands in frustration. “Could you two possibly put your mutual bitch-out on pause?”
Spike cast his eyes downward and kicked at the floor. “He started it,” he pouted.
“I most certainly did not! You little—”
Buffy sighed and shook her head. “You guys are impossible. The both of you.”
“That’s not fair,” Giles complained. “Spike is much more impossible than I am. Honestly.”
“Right now, it’s pretty much a tie.” She paused then, and grinned weakly at the mopey look her mate was giving her. If nothing else, he certainly knew how to calm her when her nerves were on the fritz. “But Spike gets extra points for being so kissably cute.”
He smirked, tossing his half-smoked cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “I am not cute.”
“I’ll second that,” Giles offered, his face suddenly buried in a book. In the last two days, that had become the norm. Heated banter, then a series of uncomfortable looks as the newness of the claim got the better of Buffy and Spike, and they began making out like crazy.
“Totally cute,” Buffy argued, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss him. His mouth was within perfect kissing distance if she leaned upward. He didn’t have to crane his neck or anything. It was just one reason out of a bajillion that it was a totally good thing that she’d fallen head over heels for Spike.
Well, it was one good thing out of a litany of good things. His sinfully delicious lips were certainly a bonus. Plus that whimpering sound he made when she caressed his tongue with hers. The way he held her with such need, poured himself into her so openly. It had taken a few days, but she had Spike as she wanted him—sharing himself with her. The claim had her burning for him in ways she had never thought possible, and for every taste she got, she only lived to want more.
Giles was pleasantly silent for a few seconds, but only a few seconds. She wasn’t at all surprised when he huffed irritably and cleared his throat. “I—umm…oh, will you two stop it?”
Buffy paused, breaking her lips from her mate’s with a scowl. “God, Giles,” she grumbled. “Spoilsport.”
“Apocalypse,” he retorted, waving a hand. “Need I remind you that Angel is expecting you in less than a half hour?”
He was quiet as her conscience got the better of her, as she knew that he knew it would. Slowly, she forced herself to untangle herself from Spike’s arms, putting an inch between them. Okay, less than inch. Half a centimeter, really. Giles wasn’t going to get anymore than that.
“I do think it best if Spike accompanies you,” the Watcher continued. “Angel wants you to meet him alone for a reason. If he had the means to end the world between now and seeing you, I rather doubt he’d put his apocalypse on hold.”
“Right,” the vampire retorted, rolling his eyes. “’Cause you know the bloke so well.”
“I’ve read my fair share on Angel, yes.”
“If that was the case, you’d know to call him Angelus. Angel’s the git that moped an’ sobbed an’…” There was a brief pause at that. Spike’s jaw ticked, and he tossed Buffy a long look. She knew what he was thinking just from the sudden tension in his shoulders, and though her brief intimacy with Angel wasn’t exactly on the roster of things to be proud of, she wouldn’t have Spike now had it not been for that horrible night.
It was amazing, though, how he could make her feel guilty for something that brought them together. And she knew he didn’t know it—he didn’t realize what he was doing anymore than she realized it when she found herself seething with Dru-envy. Their respective pasts were just something they were going to have to deal with. And either way, all that mattered was that they belonged to each other now.
Spike exhaled slowly and shook his head. “Angel’s not Angelus. I told the Slayer as much in the beginnin’.”
Giles arched a brow. “Beginning?”
“Our beginnin’. When we din’t know it was the beginnin’ of anything.” A beat. “Angelus isn’t Angel. He’s reactin’ right now ‘cause he feels like he’s been tainted, yeah, but he’s not Angel. I’ve seen them both, mate. Angel had monster in him—a lot of it, but you can’t say that Angelus has soul.”
The Watcher was quiet for a long minute. “I don’t see what that has to do with Angel—Angelus’s willingness to put Armageddon on hold. If he has the means to end the world right now, why bother contacting Buffy?”
“’Cause he has a yen for her. Come on, mate. You said you read his history: did you jus’ skip over what he does to birds he has a yen for?” Spike sighed and shook his head. “He’s bloody obsessed with her. He hates her ‘cause of what she made him feel, but he’s intrigued, an’ he hates her more for intriguin’ him. He wants to be the one to end her…all up close an’ personal like. He said so right after me an’ Dru pieced the Judge together. Right after he came back, yeh?”
Buffy shuddered. She knew she should be ashamed that, out of the whole revelation, the only thing she could react to was the mention of Dru, even if Angelus’s obsession with her wasn’t exactly news.
It hadn’t been that long since she and Spike had hated each other. It was so easy to forget that they hadn’t been together forever.
Giles didn’t miss it, of course. His eyes darkened predictably, though to her surprise, he declined to make a thing out of it. “All right,” he said, his tone low. “Still, that doesn’t take anything away from my point. Angelus clearly wants Buffy there alone. He’s all but threatening her if she refuses to comply. Does going there alone sound like a good idea to you?”
“Absolutely not, mate. I’m on your side.” He paused. “In fact, the only reason I think it’s a good idea to go at all is to see if Angelus talks. If he’s as bloody over-confident as I’m guessin’ he is, he might give somethin’ up. Point out a weakness.”
There was an aggravated sigh. “You self-righteous wanker.”
“Oi! What did I do?”
“Wasted ten minutes of our time explaining something that matters very little in the grand scheme of the world ending!”
Buffy’s brows perked. “Oh,” she retorted, crossing her arms. “As opposed to you wasting a whole day and a half in the oh-no-my-slayer-mated-a-vampire-woe-is-me thing?”
“We’re still cleaning up the mess from your last boyfriend, Buffy! People have died. Jenny died.” At that, Giles sobered and glanced down, his voice cracking. “Jenny died,” he repeated. “And I realize that Spike is receiving the brunt of my hatred for Angel, but honestly, how did you think I would react? This…your mate beat you to within an inch of your life all of eight days ago. Now you’re in love and claimed and pardon me if that’s a bit much to take on faith.”
“You think I’d claim her if I din’t love her?” Spike demanded.
“Knowing what I know of your history…no.” He sighed heavily. “Forgive me if this is going to take a few…months to get used to. My Slayer dropped another bombshell while we’re still covered in debris. It’s…difficult.” A pause. “I never thought when I asked you to perform the protection ritual that this would happen. It was too soon. I thought you would refuse—flatly—and yet—”
“This would’ve happened eventually,” Buffy objected, and she received a warm, loving look from Spike at her assertion. As though there could ever be any doubt. “The ritual…he claimed me and then told me what it meant. I hadn’t accepted, though, so he said it was all right. That it would go away. Then he…while we were…I asked him to do it again, and he didn’t want to. And I asked until he gave in. I wanted it, Giles. He told me exactly what I was getting into after the first time. It wasn’t…he hadn’t planned it. It just kinda happened, and then he promised it would wear off, but I didn’t want it to. I had to talk him into doing it again. So please…don’t be angry with Spike. Not for that, at least. And not for loving me. He’s given me more strength in the past few days than I’ve ever had. It doesn’t matter how we started, or why. We’re here now.”
There was a long, still beat.
“God, I love you,” Spike rumbled.
Buffy blushed and buried her face in his shoulder. “Well,” she said, “it’s true.”
He purred contentedly and kissed her crown, wrapping an arm around his waist, and she was enveloped in warmth.
Another long, awkward pause; Giles cleared his throat. “It’s also true that Angelus is expecting to meet you soon,” he said. “And that we have a curse to attempt to not completely bugger up. And given the way things have been in the past few days, I think it wise if you two make yourselves scarce before Willow and Xander arrive with the others.”
“Arrive? Here?” Spike arched a brow. “Why are they arrivin’ here?”
Giles just looked at him. “To do the curse,” he said slowly.
“Are you completely out of your mind?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Spike stared him down for a long few seconds, then broke away and shook his head with a derisive laugh. “This is a bloody school, you stupid arse. As in, no invite needed? An’ as you keep bloody sayin’, Angelus killed the teacher. He did it here. In the school, an’ he did it ‘cause Dru had a vision about what she was tryin’ to do.”
From the look on Giles’s face, Buffy could tell that a line had been crossed. A necessary line. She was ashamed that the same hadn’t occurred to her. After all, Ms. Calendar’s computer had been found in flames, and she knew that Angelus had been the one to stage the scene at Giles’s house. Why it had never occurred to her that the teacher had died in the halls of Sunnydale High, she didn’t know. Aside from the computer, there had been no signs of struggle. None that were made public, as it were.
Once the Watcher had his temper under control, he offered a short nod. “Very well,” he said softly. “Where would you suggest?”
“Not Buffy’s,” Spike said. “Your place.”
“My place?”
Spike arched a brow. “Buffy’s mum’s gonna be home soon. You wanna be the one to explain to her why the school librarian and all her daughter’s chums are performin’ a voodoo ritual in her livin’ room? Oh, an’ why Buffy isn’t there playin’ hostess?”
“It’s not voodoo,” Giles objected.
“You really think that’s gonna matter?”
“Well…no.”
The vampire nodded, satisfied. “All right, then.” He turned to Buffy and reached for her hand. “Then we’re going to meet Angelus.”
A frown creased her brow. “Spike—”
“You’re not meetin’ that wanker alone. Not when we know that’s exactly what he wants.” He and Giles exchanged a knowing glance. “What if he’s deliberately tryin’ to separate us? He knows we’re mated, luv. He’ll have sensed it.”
“How?”
“Grandsire.”
“You vampires are all freaks.”
Spike offered a sardonic grin. “Point is, he’ll have sensed it. An’ if he hurts you, he hurts me. An’ though your friends have a bit more talent in the realm of demon huntin’ than anyone else in this pissant town, he knows that if he’s gonna be stopped, it’s gonna be by you an’ me. Plus…” He stepped forward, squeezing her hand. “I’m not about to let you outta my sight.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know.” He shrugged sheepishly. “Won’ stop a bloke from worryin’.”
Her insides had developed the annoying habit of melting on spot every time he looked at her like that. And logic aside, she knew that she would feel the exact same way were the tables turned. All the strength in the world couldn’t ease the ache of a worried lover.
Furthermore, he had a point. A very, very good point. It was foolish to go alone, especially if that’s exactly what Angelus wanted her to do.
“All right,” she agreed softly. “All right. You’re right. It’s…it’d be dumb to go alone.”
“Treasure that,” her Watcher said with a cough. “You won’t hear her admit she’s wrong again.”
Buffy smirked. “Thanks, Giles. You should get moving, too. Go get Xander and Will and whoever else and head over to your place.” She tossed a glance to the window. “Sun’s going down.”
“Which means we have a date to keep,” Spike agreed. “Come on, sweetling. Angelus is a stickler for punctuality.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. You can imagine how much I care.”
“Buffy…”
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” She turned back to Giles. “Go. Now. I want you at your place before the sun sets.”
“I’m gone.”
She nodded, squeezing Spike’s hand again, and reveled in the comfort of his proffered strength.
“So are we.”
*~*~*
There were reasons that Giles invited them over so infrequently, and most centered on Xander’s penchant for touching things. He supposed the boy’s determination to get a feel for every weapon in the flat was compensation for having so few male friends. He’d be fortunate if all of his so-called “good” weapons weren’t thoroughly worn and useless by the time he had his home back from the invading teenagers.
Moreover, Xander’s recent stint as a soldier had him thinking, for whatever reason, that he was the expert on all weaponry rather than simply guns and other phallus-shaped instruments that made a large noise when activated. Twice now, Giles had barked at him to leave the lance alone, and to please not point the crossbow at the antique vase that sat precariously on a stand next to his library shelf.
“Oh come on, G-Man,” Xander objected. “How old can that thing be?”
Giles arched a brow. “It dates to 325 A.D, and for the money I spent, I could have put the lot of you through college. Now please, put my crossbow down.”
The color drained from the boy’s face, and he quickly obliged. He plopped down on the settee next to his girlfriend, who rolled her eyes and checked her watch.
“Willow is putting the last ingredients together,” Giles assured her. “We’ll get started soon enough.”
“Yeah,” Xander added weakly. “Besides, who wants to rush the apocalypse?”
“I’m not being impatient,” Cordelia said. Then paused. “Well, yes, maybe a little impatient. I don’t like sitting around here, watching my boyfriend get scolded while the world could get sucked into hell at any moment. And could Willow’s ingredients smell any worse?”
“Oh, they could,” Giles replied, his brows arched. “So let’s not tempt fate, shall we?”
Willow and Oz emerged from the kitchen then, each equipped with a tray.
“Smelly-herb man,” Cordelia observed.
Oz shrugged. “I do what I can.”
Xander frowned and waved a hand in front of his nose. “Don’t werewolves have a heightened sense of smell?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged again. “It’s okay. I’m manly.”
Willow shot him a proud grin. “Yes. Oz is all man. Man enough for smelly herbs.” She glanced back to Giles. “Where should we put these?”
“Here on the floor. The text indicates that we need a sacred circle.” He paused. “Xander and Oz will sit with you. Cordelia…I don’t suppose the impending annihilation of Earth would persuade you to wave around the…erm…smelly herbs?”
She threw her hands up. “Hey. I can sacrifice my nose for the planet. I’m not that shallow.”
Xander turned to beam at Willow. “She’s all man, too.”
“Oh, bite me so hard.”
Giles cleared his throat and tried not to grin. “All right. We should try this now.” He nodded at Willow. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with channeling so much power?”
“No,” she replied, her voice slightly shrill. “But I think I can do it.”
“Very well, then. Let’s all—”
It all happened quickly. Very quickly. The alarm sounded just seconds before the smoke from the upper level permeated into the living room, clouding over the herbs in simple seconds. And despite the sinking sensation in his stomach, an eerie calm overcame him as he rose to his feet.
“Giles…” Willow began, her voice shaking as she sniffed at the air. “Is that…that’s not—”
“It is,” he replied. “Xander, you may take the crossbow now. Everyone—outside.”
“What the—”
“Outside!” he yelled.
There was a certain measure of acceptance. Spike’s warning had prepared him. Thus when he found himself staring into Drusilla’s yellow, angry eyes, there was nothing but seasoned recognition.
“Giles!” Willow was at his arm, tugging at him like a child. “We can’t—”
“Kill the others,” Drusilla said loudly to the fanged cronies behind her. “Daddy needs the professor.”
The piercing crash of shattered glass exploded through the air, and Giles’s home went up in flames.
TBC |
