Chapter Forty

 

Maggie Walsh squirmed uncomfortably in her chair.  A flash of humiliation and pain passed over her face as she tried to cross her legs.

 

“Ah….hello?”  Her call was ineffectual against the snoring man on the sofa, and she rolled her eyes in frustration.

 

“Um...you asleep over there!  I need to go to the bathroom.”  She remained unanswered.  She was hardly surprised that her reasonably quiet voice had no impact through the snorting bull-horn of monotony that was Giles asleep.  She was hesitant to get any louder though- not wanting the Slayer to feel a need to investigate.

 

She had never really thought before about the movies and novels that talked of hostages being restrained for days on end, but now she could see how unrealistic those plots were.  How was one able to cut oneself off when desperate to use the amenities?

 

Fortunately, it was at the moment when the sharp pain began to really become unbearable that the one identified as Angelus slammed back into the house.  His rather noisy entrance jolted Giles awake and he garbled something about ‘ no tea, Mother,’ before he was back on his feet and contemplating the strange expression on the vampire’s face.  He held the bag up in front of him, almost as an apology, and offered no explanation.  Shortly following that confusing display, both males turned to the captive and wrinkled their noses in disgust. 

 

Refusing to acknowledge their apathy toward her, she grabbed the opportunity for relief.

 

“I have to go to the bathroom, right now.”  Her voice held onto her earlier arrogance of command, but Angel could sniff the fear that radiated from her.

 

“Unbelievable.”  Giles exploded, his hands flung in the air.  “Couldn’t you have bloody mentioned that before we put the binding spell on you?”

 

She quirked her brow and looked at him in surprise.

 

“I’m your hostage.  I didn’t think you would be particularly interested in whether I was hungry, or needed to…ah…freshen up?”

 

Giles spluttered.  “We’re not bloody barbarians.” 

 

Then his eyes hardened and she knew that he had started thinking that she probably was.  She really felt like she had ridden a fanbelt tonight, and the spinning journey hadn’t yet slowed down.  She was still stunned and not a little miffed that her own boys had so callously given her up to these misfits, even if they seemed to have information that was beyond classified.  She had no idea how this Slayer person could possibly know so much; and the Polgara demon…how did she know that?  It was all a mystery that she would rather try to unravel once she had the chance to empty her bladder.  She looked up to find the man called Giles flicking through a book and with a few biting words she felt a force that had held her bound begin to loosen and drop.  Sighing in relief, she stood on wobbly legs and silently waited for direction to the bathroom.

 

“You have less than two minutes.  There are bars on the window if you were thinking of trying to get away.  Take longer and I will send Angel in to get you.”

 

She blanched in revulsion and took off at a quick walk, slamming the door behind her.

 

Giles and Angel were left looking uncomfortably at each other, not knowing what to say.  Giles was eager to hear about their progress, and Angel was eager to keep it quiet.

 

“I-I, ah, fell asleep.  How are things going in there?”  Giles jerked his head in the direction of his study, and watched Angel for his reaction.  His intent gaze picked up the flinch, but he put it down to earlier fury.

 

“I think we might be getting somewhere.  But it’s slow.  Probably best kept private for the moment.”

 

Giles nodded, then saw the bite marks rapidly healing on the vampires neck.

 

“Did you think he might recognise your blood?”  He was nodding in approval.  “So, how did that go, then?”  Angel gulped and flinched again, and Giles’s Watcher curiosity surged. 

 

“It’s rough.  He’s a vampire, Giles.  Tasting my blood? Not the best idea I’ve ever had.  But don’t go quizzing Buffy on it, okay?  This is really hard for her.”

 

Without waiting to watch the dawning comprehension and horror on Giles’s face, he marched down the corridor, gave the bathroom door a loud pounding before turning to continue to the study and firmly locking the door behind him.  Maggie Walsh exploded from the room as if the hounds of hell had erupted form the toilet bowl to drag her home, and found her seat on the hard chair once again.  Momentarily distracted by Angel’s words, Giles hesitated slightly before muttering the incantation that would restrain her to the spot, refraining from reusing the ropes.  He was not that eager to be so close to her again.  She turned his stomach.

 

As he thought over the clues that Angel had dropped, he felt his body squeeze in upon itself.  He had been warned of Spike’s vampiric nature, and the tasting of Angel’s blood.  Flashes of Buffy in the hospital after almost being drained by the dark-haired vampire the previous year crowded his mind, and he grabbed the glasses from his face.

 

“Oh dear God,” he mumbled fatalistically, but then he stopped as he remembered.  Another clue.  Angel had left the blond pair together and alone, so Spike musn’t have drained the Slayer.  So what could he mean?  His refusal to accept the sexual nature of these teens in his charge made it more difficult for him to contemplate what Angel had implicitly been suggesting.  Spike had tasted Buffy in Angel’s blood.

 

“Oh dear God,” he repeated as the glasses fell silently to the floor.

 

‘He reasserted the Claim.  As a vampire”.

 

Giles was suitably horrified.  He could feel his blood pressure rising with this unnerving idea and he sat boldly still, trying to calm Ripper who was thrashing within him to go and slay.

 

He hadn’t heard her scream, hadn’t heard a bloody sound.  Because he’d been asleep, thinking they could handle it.  Good Lord!

 

He jumped to his feet and commenced pacing, each length going further down the hallway toward the study before swinging back.  About the sixth time he got closer to the door and startled when it swung open and a black figure loomed ahead of him, before determinedly clicking it shut again.  Angel stood steady, waiting until they heard the lock turn on the inside before he grabbing Giles’s arm in a punishing hold, dragging him back to the safety of the living room.

 

“You figured it out then, did you?”  Angel’s face was hard, resigned and another point pushed its way into his understanding.

 

“You watched it happen.”  He snapped his arm away.  “You bastard!”

 

“You don’t understand vampire customs, Giles.  It would be cruel to punish him for something he had no control over.  You wanna punish anyone, then have a go at this old hag.”

 

Giles deflated in acceptance, understanding it was a feeling that was becoming widely- well- accepted tonight.  So much intrusion on their relatively safe lives.  Tonight in particular had blown their assumptions and judgements all to hell.

 

“She understands it, Giles.  He didn’t hurt her.  Just scared her for a little while.”

 

“So she isn’t scared now, then?”  Giles looked at the brunette in disbelief.

 

“Surprisingly, no.  I can’t get over how deep her love for him is.  In weeks.  How the hell did he pull that off?”  Angel rubbed his hand over weary, watery eyes as he looked to the Watcher for an explanation.  “I mean, the Powers rewarded him, right?  With a soul!  How could Buffy fall for that straight away?  I mean, she got cozy with him the night she found him.  What the hell is that?”

 

For the first time, Giles paid attention to the vampire’s misery, and felt a stab of pity.  For a moment.  Truth be told, he thought Spike was by far the more deserving vampire for his Slayer.  It was easy to label good because of a soul, but no one ever seemed to commend the overturning of nature itself to choose the better.  Angel was forcefully encumbered with his soul.  Without even thinking about it, Giles knew that no chip could have influenced Angelus to turn to the Scoobies for help.  When Spike was back to his vibrant self, he must quiz him about his minions and why he didn’t force them to help him.

 

Shaking himself from the unfavourable ruminations, he reflected quickly on Angel’s questions.

 

“To tell you the truth, I think a little of the future Spike’s essence came with the soul, and it touched her.  Rather simple, really.  Well, unless it appalls you.  But strangely, they seem quite acceptable together.  When you make the effort, he is- rather- likeable I suppose.”

 

A loud snort from across the room got both their attention, and they were drawn to their other problem.

 

“What’s her deal?”  Angel’s voice was dangerously lacking in emotion, and that alone had Giles fighting goosebumps on his skin.

 

“She’s the one that put our little jigsaw Frankenstein together.  She had Spike kidnapped and did whatever she did to him.  We had originally planned on trying to convince her to destroy her pet project, Adam.  However, I have a nasty feeling that she won’t be cooperative.”

 

Angel’s eyes narrowed as he dropped to his haunches, bringing himself into eye level with the magically restrained woman.  Then his face broke into the most evil smile she had ever seen.  Angel displayed his demon unhindered, no longer able to control the release as his enhanced senses picked up the distinct smell of blood from up the hall, as well as the tiny whimpers of pleasure coming from the one girl he couldn’t stand to hear it from.  He knew that the claim process would consist of continual sexual joinings throughout the night, and the only thing that was saving his sanity was the hope that Spike would prevail and that each time he reached climax it would encourage him back to the present.  His demon eyes, however, reflected none of that gentility of thought and he felt pleasure course through his body at the growing waft of fear from right in front of him.

 

“I think she’ll be cooperative.  In fact, I think if we take her to her little demon soldier boy right this minute, she’ll help us decapitate him… or be decapitated herself.  How about it, Giles?  Feel like a little trip to the Initiative?”

 

For one small second, Professor Walsh felt relieved that she would be free. Then she thought of her son, Adam, and though she was more than a little on edge that these people predicted a future for her experiment not quite on the plans, she knew that it was at a close.  As skeptical as they may be, she didn’t actually want the death of children on her hands.  Or humans at all, if she could help it.  So she nodded her head in resignation.

 

“I will take you there and you can do what you like.  Just let me go afterwards?”

 

With a look of agreement, Angel waited for the barrier to release her, then took her in a grip that he intended to hurt.  In the uncertain darkness of night, Giles and Angel headed to Initiative headquarters to rid themselves of a potential problem, and save Buffy from further torment.