Chapter Forty-Three

“We’re in a bloody mess now then, aren’t we?”

Giles angrily drilled his fingers on the smooth surface of the dining table as he occasionally swished back a mouthful of scotch. His frustration was etched indelibly around his mouth, and his eyes flashed in cranky admiration every time they fell on the figure of a very brooding vampire. Angel sat hunched over, his head in his hands.

“What the hell are we gonna do now?” His voice was almost whiny in the inflection of panic and he suddenly threw his hands in the air, got abruptly to his feet and then stood shockingly still.

“I still can’t believe you nearly plowed that axe through her head. And the way she jumped aside …and then all painted in gore; those are some images that I will hold dear.” Giles burst into tipsy laughter and received an amused but slightly shocked look from Angel.

“She is dead, you know. I put on my bad act and shocked the shit out of her.”

Giles looked at the straight face of the blaspheming vampire and couldn’t hold onto the hilarity. He chuffed his amusement, revealing that he had already done more than sip a single glass of scotch before taking a seat at the table.

The sound of the halt of rushing water from the shower had them quickly calming down, not wanting to be involved in insensitive laughter when Buffy emerged from the bathroom. She needed their support right now, not to mention some brilliant ideas on how to cure Spike. Unfortunately, thought Giles, now that the wicked witch of the west had carked it, they were hardly likely to come up trumps in the near future.

As they prepared to face Buffy when she emerged from the bathroom, their earlier tension again rose to entwine them with invisible restraints. The images of the night, though satisfying every bloodthirsty impulse for revenge that Giles could call to his alter-ego, were dashed with freezing water in view of the further problems they were yet to embark upon.

Buffy’s quiet giggles caused dual frowns from the men awaiting her appearance, and they wondered if she had cracked from the emotional turmoil of and-her recent experiences. When she finally surfaced, all clean and refreshed Angel and Giles swallowed hard-holding the hand of the resident bleached Big Bad in disbelief.

“ ‘ello blokes.” Spike grinned at their matching stunned expressions and waited patiently for each one to drag his jaw from the floor.

“Ho-how, when, I mean, um, what happened?” Giles was the first to recover and as realisation finally sank in he grinned like a delirious fool. He felt happy. The smile faltered as he contemplated why exactly he felt happy, then with a simple “what the hell” accepted it and went back to being happy.

“Why Rupert, you should know that lots of quality shagging can cure a man of all his ills!”

Giles spluttered his surprise and embarrassment at the comment and proceeded to smear the already smudged glass lenses in his grimy handkerchief.

It took this action for Buffy to take in the appearance of the other two men, and she turned her nose up delicately.

“Ewwww, what on earth have you two been up to?”

“Whatever it was, it sure looked like fun.” Spike pouted his jealousy.

Angel could not tear his eyes away from his Childe. His senses picked up the hesitancy that was well concealed, and he knew that Spike was trying to cover the unease he felt about the mode of his recovery with opinionated bravado. For the most part, it seemed to throw them all off track. Choosing to not comment on the night spent locked behind the study door, he strode forward and gathered Spike in an uncharacteristic hug. Without saying one word he stepped back and the vampires nodded to each other in understanding and gratitude. From a connection over a century old, they communicated their apologies and acceptance, then let it go. Angel felt a wash of tension fall from his back and determined to show his affection for his family more often. Not his hate and intolerance.

Buffy slipped an arm around Spike’s waist and leaned into him to both comfort him and feel it returned. Cocking her brow at the oblivious two seemed to be ignored, so she chose to remind them that there had been a topic of conversation current.

“Giles. Watcha been doing?”

“Well, funny story really,” he began, a nervous grin twitching his lips. Within half an hour the story was told, accompanied by intermittent expressions of horror, outrage and guilt, with a little touch of remorse, though that last only came from Buffy.

“Whew.” Buffy collapsed back in Spike’s lap now that they occupied a comfy seat on the sofa. “So, that seemed easy. I like this knowing of the future. Giles, did you write a list of all the things Spike and I told you about the other events in the future?”

With a new preoccupation Giles stood and went to locate his writing pad that contained a large list of garbled events. He frowned momentarily; his glasses were too smudged to aid him in deciphering the blurred events written on the page. He jumped as the phone rang, wondering who would be ringing at such an ungodly hour.

Giles snagged the receiver with a sense of dread and listened to the cultured tones of a Watcher from over the ocean, letting him know that Faith was on the loose.

“Oh dear,” he exclaimed, attempting again to polish lenses filthy with demon guts and blood. He seemed completely unaware as he contemplated the list again, and recognised that this must be when Faith would try to swap bodies with Buffy.

“What does ‘Oh dear,’ mean in a fit?” Spike seemed eager to catch up on all his missed wit in one session, but the question had weighed on the mind of all present in the flat.

“It means that we have to stop Faith from trying to take over Buffy’s body.”

In sudden awareness, Spike jumped to his feet. “Too bloody right we have to stop her. How about we keep Buffy here while Peaches and I go and find her?”

Angel and Giles wore matching expressions of concern.

“Don’t you think you should take some time to get yourself together before you go rushing back out to the fight?”

Spike knew Angel was right, but that didn’t prevent the slope of his shoulder dip in resignation. He nodded his head in the supplication of a Childe, just this once feeling thankful for Angel’s curious support. He sat back beside Buffy and curled her hand in his. His eyes remained fixed on the floor and Buffy looked at him in worry, but the belief that her mother might remain in danger if she didn’t quickly arrive to face off with Faith made her switch her focus.

“I think she goes to my house first. That’s where I saw the switch happen.”

“Okay, then I go to your place. I still have an invite, don’t I? In case your mother won’t let me inside?”

Buffy could hear the hurt in Angel’s voice, the fear that she had already barred him from every corner of her life, even if it was just the freedom to enter her home. She smiled reassuringly at him, and nodded her assent.

“Don’t let her grab your hand. I’m pretty sure she can’t swap her essence with a vampire, or even that she would want to. But you can never tell what might happen if she tries it.”

With a decisive move to the door, Angel grabbed hold of his coat and melted into the night. Everyone remained quiet, Giles again taking his place at the table and nursing another glass of scotch. Belatedly his eyes fell on the excluded vampire and he filled another glass and passed it over. The two men exchanged a comfortable smile and Giles once again sat back, and began to giggle. Then he laughed. And roared with such an intense sense of fun that he had Buffy and Spike sharing in his amusement.

“What?” Buffy called the query out amidst a heavy burst of giggles and Giles struggled to gain some control.

“Her face!” He spluttered helplessly. “She thought Angel was going to split her head open with the axe. Oh God, the look on her face.” He chuckled a little more then suddenly became grimly serious. “But she is dead now so I suppose it is ill to make fun of her.” His eyes twinkled as he caught Spike’s amused twist of lips, and fell again into a spate of hilarity.

Buffy rolled her eyes and just thanked God that she had her boyfriend back in one piece, and that this time Faith wasn’t going to use her body as a raving ho machine. Sighing in relieved contentment, she lay back against a hard shoulder; waiting for Angel to return with Faith she closed her eyes and drifted off.