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This fic is written for megan_peta for her tireless work betaing this fic and so many more for me! Also for her encouragement to write more of what was intended to be a short series, her excitement over each chapter has been the reason I carried on with it! Megan I hope you enjoys *g*

 

Chapter 11

“Are you sure she’s dusted?” Giles peered over the top of his spectacles, his face a picture of shock and confusion.

Buffy folded her arms over her chest and nodded empathically. “Uh huh, oh and FYI I am soooo in love with you in a totally non-boyfriendy way.” She reached over and hugged her startled Watcher; her face mashed against his tweedy lapel. “You saved my mom!”

“Buffy…ribs,” Giles wheezed as he heard an ominous creak from his chest area. He gasped when she let go and patted him on the chest reassuringly. “Would you care to explain yourself?” He stepped back and plopped down on his desk chair.

Buffy and Spike had appeared about five minutes ago and the girl was obviously under the influence of some sort of narcotics, babbling about her mother dusting Darla and then declaring her love for him. He’d had guidance in this area and knew exactly what to do to deflect the amorous attentions of his Slayer. It was covered in his Watchers training; apparently the young women often became enraptured by their older mentors. So finally something had been included into the Watcher’s training to help them deflect the love without being injured by jilted enraged Slayers.

“She said in a non boyfriend way, Rupes.” Spike quirked his scarred brow, effectively deflating Giles’s ruminations in one sentence.

Buffy wrinkled her nose and pouted becomingly at Spike. “Eww, how could you say that? Giles so knows I wasn’t macking on him…” She trailed off at the faint blush on her Watcher cheeks. “Ewww, Giles!”

Giles cleared his throat. “Right, so you were saying about Darla?” he prompted as he changed the subject as best he could before he died of mortification.

Buffy reached over and snagged the small bronze statue on the shelf above his desk. “Nice Shiva. Where did you get it?” She raised her fair brows expectantly.

“Well…umm, right, I errrr…” he tried to dissemble, but realised that his subterfuge was in vain. He had only gone to see what the woman was like, but on meeting the charming Mrs Summers he had realised that something had to be done. Something said to protect the sunny woman. His peers would’ve condemned him for being soft and not focused on his job. But he had bitten the bullet and as cautiously as he could have, he’d suggested some courses in self-defence, handing over a dog eared pamphlet he’d picked up for himself.

“Chill, Giles. All I wanted to say was go you with the self defence advice, and thank you.” Buffy gave him back the small statue and patted his forearm in thanks. “You saved my mom’s life, so no matter what has happened before, like let’s say…oh, any prophecies that you felt Buffy shouldn’t know about, all is forgiven and forgotten.” She leant over and straightened his glasses and smiled brightly at the flustered man.

“Here you go, Watcher. Pressie from me for the good advice. Bet it wasn’t in the Watcher’s handbook, Sage advice to Slayer’s mum and all that.” Spike handed a red square box over to the befuddled man with a nod of thanks.

Giles blinked at the heavy box that he’d automatically taken and opened. “I say, this is a bit generous. Remy Martin Louis 13th Cognac! Spike, what can I say—”

“Cheers would be a good thing.” Spike leant back on the battered couch and let out a bone deep sigh. “As for the old slapper, she is good and dusted, not a smidge of her left except maybe here.” He lifted a doc-clad foot and waved it around for a moment before dropping it back down on to the linoleum floor.

Giles carefully placed the precious box on his cluttered desk and clasped his hands together. “Could you elaborate?”

“Mom dusted her. She was like ‘wham’ and flipped the ho over her shoulder. I missed the dustage but Spike heard the splat and poof. Mom wasted Darla!” Buffy bounced on the couch, jostling a dozing Spike. “All cos of you, making with the sneaky and getting Mom to go do some fighty training – you saved her!”

Giles held up his hands defensively when he saw Buffy was about to leap up and crush his ribcage again. She was stopped by a firm hand grabbing her waistband and pulling her back against his willing side. Spike grunted happily at the sensation of her warm body against his and dropped his head on top of hers. “So your mother knows about vampires now?” Concern filled him, part of him relieved that the nice woman was now safer for knowing and another part saddened that her innocence was gone.

“Nope, Mom is as clueless as ever. She had her back to dusty Darla and thinks that she was a mugger who ran away.”

“Ahh.” Giles looked over at Spike. He wanted to rip the slumbering vampire off his Slayer, but he managed to stop himself. There was more to worry about than the burgeoning romance between his ward and the vampire. It wasn’t as if this was a unique case; Slayers were as a rule drawn to those that they hunted, albeit not usually vampires. There were recorded cases of slayers involved with all manner of supernatural beings – including one startling report of a ghost and a slayer, and their unrequited love. All very heartbreaking, that last case. But a slayer and a vampire? Now that was a new one on him and he imagined all the Watchers. This was a first, but somehow it seemed to make sense with these two. They were so similar in temperament that it boggled his mind sometimes. “Well I am glad I was of some assistance and that she listened to my advice.”

Buffy giggled again. “What kills me is the sneakiness that is you with the pretend shopping and then the casual, ‘oh by the why, go learn to kick ass or you may not see the sunrise again’ commenty.”

“Well, it’s not standard practise to approach the Slayer’s family. But—”

“But you’re not a regular Watcher, are you, mate?” Spike rumbled sleepily.

Giles’s tried not to do a rabbit in headlights impersonation but failed miserably.

“Been doing a bit of checking up on you mate. Seems like you’ve had a colourful past, Ripper.” Spike smirked at the all over body twitch that nearly knocked Giles out of his tweed suit.

“Ripper!” he exclaimed.

“Ripper?” Buffy’s nose crinkled as she tried to compare the fuddy duddy sitting in front of her to the image the name Spike had drawled evoked. She shook her head. “Nope, I can’t see it.”

“Love, when you get a chance, have a snoop in his desk – some interesting piccies in there,” Spike whispered softly, so quietly that Giles had missed the exchange.

Before any of them could say anymore, the library doors slammed open and cursing filled the air. So blue that even Spike sat up to fully appreciate the colourful invectives that Cordelia was bellowing. She was learning so much from him; it filled him with a glow of fraternal pride.

“Rat bastard, son of a bitch, needle-dicked mensch…” she ranted, then stepped into the office, crossed her arms and glared at all of them. Xander and Willow rushed up behind her, their faces flushed from exertion and embarrassment.

“Cordy!” Buffy’s jaw dropped.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Kiddies present.” Cordelia glared over at Willow and Xander. “It’s not like I encouraged them to follow me round.”

“Hey!” Willow flipped her long hair over her shoulder and tried to give Cordelia a dirty look, but chickened out. The fear of Queen C was too ingrained in her to really stand up to the seething crop-haired brunette.

Xander waved a hand and gasped for breath. “Yeah. What she said and also—” He kicked Cordelia in the shins. She reached over and smacked him on the back of the head and then turned back to Buffy, Spike and the spluttering Giles. The latter ‘humphed’ at the girl and then shook his head at her antics.

“Keep your thong on, pet,” Spike grinned at his fuming protégée. “What the hell it going on.”

“Willy,” she grumped and nudged Buffy up and flopped down on the now overcrowded sofa. Buffy did the only sensible thing she could do and crawled onto Spike’s receptive lap and snuggled back against his chest. She managed to repress the happy sigh and focused on Cordelia.

“I say, what have you been doing?” Giles leant over to examine Cordelia for injuries. “I have told you repeatedly you are too young to be frequenting that dive.” He whipped off his specs and laid them on the desk and massaged his temples. “I blame you, Spike. I wish you hadn’t taken them in there. It’s just so—” he trailed off.

“Seedy?” Xander suggested.

“Dirty and filled with demons?” Willow squeaked. She was still in shock at seeing a R’ah Ateh demon drink with his dangly bits earlier in the evening. In her book that was just plain gross. Trousers should be kept zipped in public places as far as she was concerned.

“Bloody good place for a brawl and a hand of poker?” Spike added unhelpfully with an unrepententant grin on his lips. He had snuck his arms around Buffy’s waist and hitched his chin on her shoulder so he could see everyone. He was a happy vamp in more ways than one—a lapful of warm receptive Slayer and one whose mum seemed to like him. He still couldn’t believe the ‘meet the family’ situation had gone so smoothly. He did wonder where the Williamesque behaviour had erupted from, but it seemed to have done the trick, especially if you counted the cocoa and marshmallows.

“A good place to get info on the latest Big Ick to roll into town?” Buffy giggled at the look of utter despair on Giles’s face. “Come on, Giles. You know that it’s too late, we’ve all been there.”

“So it would seem.” Giles managed to refrain from reacting to their teasing. Instead he put his glasses back on and eyed the bottle of cognac longingly. He desperately needed a drink. Tonight was shaping up to be rather eventful: Darla was gone which was wonderful news, Mrs Summers had appeared to take his advice and had revealed that she was able to take care of herself – which was excellent news. Also to his surprise it appeared that Buffy’s mother had not had a meltdown over Spike being in her daughter’s life. If she had he imagined that by now Buffy would’ve complained about it. But she hadn’t. All of this was a relief, but he had a feeling that Cordelia was about to rain on his parade.

“I beat some information outta Willy.”

“You try that trick with the roll of pennies?” Spike asked idly. He winced when Buffy pinched his forearm. “What’s that for?”

She arched a brow at him and shook her head. She didn’t want Giles to cry again. The last time Spike had shown her a dirty trick with a knuckle duster she’d been positive that there were tears in her Watcher’s eyes.

Cordelia nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah and check it out, not too much damage – well for me.”

“Now really, Cordelia, that is out of order. He is a human and easily damaged,” Giles protested, shocked to the core at her casual attitude.

“So? He deals with demons—evil demons that eat the locals. Anything he gets he deserves and if I can shake out information from him, then I will.” Cordelia crossed her arms and ignored the spluttering librarian. Willow and Xander stood awkwardly in the doorway, feeling a bit left out and unsure.

“Well,” Giles hesitated, realising he was fighting a losing battle with the recalcitrant girl. “So what was the information that got you so cross?”

“Angelus has gone,” Cordelia snarled angrily, disappointment and frustration colouring her face and voice. She crossed her arms and frowned down at her boots, her thoughts miles away.

“What?” Buffy leaned forward, her jaw nearly hitting her knees. “Gone as in poof?” She wiggled her fingers. “Dustville?” she asked hopefully. Part of her was thanking the gods as she didn’t want Cordelia having to face the nutbag again.

“No. As in two minions tattled to Willy, who may I add are now dustville, that they apparently dumped his charred ass on a train full of cows after the Master had kicked him outta the fam. Can that be done?” She directed the question at Giles as Spike was howling with laughter at the news and was of no use to anyone.

“Well I would have to check my books. Willow, would you mind helping me with researching that?” Giles smiled gently at the shy redhead who nodded enthusiastically, pleased to be asked and also thrilled to be able to help. “I imagine there is something in there about rituals and vampiric families.” He rolled his eyes at the snickering vampire on the couch. “It would appear that Spike will not be of any help for a while.”

Buffy grunted as Spike squeezed her hard and tried to wriggle free. She froze in place when something got very happy to meet her and pressed up against her ass. She held her breath, realising she couldn’t move off otherwise everyone would see a very happy Spike Junior. “Spike,” she hissed and reached down to pinch his thigh and then stopped herself, getting too close to that was sooo not a way to deflate it!

“Yeah, sorry.” He wiped the tears from his eyes. The news of Peaches’ fall from grace was just…well, plain neat to coin an Americanism. “Yeah, it can be done and damn if it couldn’t have happened to vamp more deserving. Loses his mum and gets the boot right good. Have to say this has made me the happiest bloke on the Hellmouth!” He lapsed into giggles and muttered under his breath about how the mighty had fallen.

“So what does this mean?” Buffy and Xander echoed each other.

“It means we have two master vampires out of the equation and that is exceptionally good news.” Giles leant back in his chair, lacing his finger as he tipped his head back to consider their next move. “I imagine that the Master has a few minions around him?” He directed this question to Spike who was still snickering, his blue eyes bright with delight at the humiliation of his nemesis.

“Yeah, the old git liked to have a few around. Might be worth having a snoop around and doing a head count.” Spike and Giles exchanged a grim look. “I’ll get on to that in the morning when the old fart’ll be kipping, less likely to be spotted that way.” He knew that the elder vampire would more likely sense them if he was awake, so by going during the day when he was sleeping it’d be easier to sneak around and get out before being spotted. He and Buffy had recently discovered the area surrounding where the Master was incarcerated, finally locating him using a combination of his tracking skills and her memories of where the long dusted Jesse had lured Xander and her to. It had been made easier by Buffy starting off from the crypt where she’d bumped into Angel for the second time. Spike mentally shook his head. That had been only a few months ago and so much had changed.

Buffy tensed on his lap, all too aware that they were thinking about the prophecy. She shivered. She really didn’t want to die, she was too young and also she’d only just found Spike. There was no way she was leaving him behind.

A firm hand ran down her back, soothing her. “None of that, pet. I promised it’d be alright and you know I never break my promises.”

What surprised her was the tentative hand that landed on her knee; Cordelia squeezed her leg gently and gave her a nod. Buffy glanced over at her and tried to smile but her nerves and fear got the better of her.

“I’ve got your back too, Buffy.” Cordelia patted Buffy’s leg reassuringly. All anger over missing her chance at torturing and staking Angelus dissipated at the look of fear of the blonde huddled on Spike’s lap.

“We all have, Buffster.” Xander nodded as Willow and Giles seconded him.

Buffy took a shaky breath and let out a strangled laugh. “Kinda lame, aren’t I? But thanks, you guys. You really are the best.”

“I’ll need you to show me again where you and the whelp found your mate that time. I think that was close to the Master’s lair – should be able to sniff my way back from there. Need to pin point his lair this time and not just the general area,” Spike listed as he changed to subject. He was making sure she had something to focus on rather than impending death – not that he was letting that happen.

“Jesse?” Willow’s face filled with sadness at the memory of her nearly forgotten friend. Xander cleared his throat and looked down at his battered sneakers. Buffy felt the guilt that his name evoked in her fill her again; he was her first failure on the Hellmouth and it smarted something bad. But score one for the good guys with Darla dustage. Revenge was sweet and now Jesse could rest in peace knowing his sire was in dusty pieces.

“Right, so that seems to be all we can do for tonight. Buffy, I will write you a note to excuse you from school tomorrow so you can assist Spike. The rest of you off to bed and come and see me at lunch time and we can plot strategy. Cordelia, as a favour to me, could please refrain from hitting anyone tomorrow. I need you around and not in detention.”

Slowly the teens filed out, calling goodnights over their shoulders and leaving Spike, Buffy and Giles standing in the cramped room. Cordelia hesitated at the door, wanting to stay with Buffy to offer some support. The taller girl realised that it was pretty much the pits having some mouldy book tell you the date of your imminent death, so she decided to linger by the counter and go back to Spike’s apartment with them.

“Buffy, I am glad your mother took my advice. It is a relief to know she can take care of herself.” Giles gingerly wrapped an arm around Buffy’s shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. “As for the rest, I promise we will avert the prophecy.”

“Thanks, Giles. For everything.” Buffy hugged him, managing this time not to crack any of his ribs, and stepped out of the office to talk to Cordelia.

“Spike, I know you find Angelus’s eviction from the bosom of the Aurelian clan exceptionally amusing, but do try to recall how vindictive Angelus can be.” He gestured to the solemn faced Cordelia who was unconsciously pulling at her hair. “He maybe on the last train to Clarksville, but rest assured he will return and I doubt he will be best pleased about Darla. We need to be ready.”

“I know, mate, but you have to give a bloke a moment to relish the news. I’ve lived in that sod’s shadow for so many years that it chafes a blokes bits. Always being found lacking compared to the great and wondrous Peaches, both fighting wise, and in the sack, as if that were true!” Spike shook his head at the remembered taunts thrown at him by Darla, Dru and Angelus over the decades. “It’s ruddy funny what’s happened, his sire gone and his flabby arse dropkicked out of the clan!” He snorted with laughter and then straightened his face.

“Yes indeed, I’ve read the Chronicles. You and Angelus seemed to have had a colourful association.” Part of Giles itched to ask, but he managed to hold back the words aching to tumble from his lips. He waited instead in the hope that Spike may offer up something and he was rewarded for his patience.

“Yeah, you and me’ll have to have a good chat about that over a bottle or two once we get rid of Batface.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Giles nodded, secretly bouncing with glee at the possibility of first hand information about the Scourge of Europe. He could see the book already: The Genesis of the Scourge of Europe – a first hand account, by Giles. R. All in gold embossed lettering, it looked wonderful in his mind’s eye. His peers would be pea green with envy at the kudos that the publication would engender.

“Right, best be off then, got the birds waiting for me.” As Spike left the cramped room, he turned to Giles, “Oh and Watcher, I need you to do a bit of hocus pocus for me.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. And don’t bother with the wide eyed innocence, I can smell the magicks all over you. Also, Ripper, I know all about your fun and frolics in the Seventies. This is for her. I need you to convert a good few large barrels of water into icenthgious water. It’s a simple enough chant and all, especially for you, Ripper. Can you get on with it?” Spike tilted his head and waited for Giles to catch up with him. “Use Holy Water as a dilutant, if you can get enough of it without being nicked by the preacher.”

The door swung shut on Giles’s spluttering face.

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