Banner by Selene
Banner
by Selene
Chapter 16: Revelations
England
Giles’ Office, Watcher’s Council Headquarters
Giles was sitting at his desk, lost in thought. Yes, it was early on a Saturday
morning. But that had never stopped him from coming in to his office to get some
work done. It seemed like he spent more time here than at home anyway.
Restructuring the Watcher’s Council from scratch took time and effort and
wouldn’t fit into a normal workweek schedule. Besides, it not like he had
plans to be anywhere else.
Ever since Spike’s call last night as his residence, he was more puzzled than
ever about the text he has translated. This was why he sat leaning back in his
seat, glasses held in his hand, as he absentmindedly sucked on the tip of one of
the ear frames. He was going over the translation in his mind when he suddenly
sat up, perched his glasses back up on his nose and reached for his discarded
notebook. Quickly, he reread the translation.
“Of course,” he mumbled aloud, pausing over a word that repeated itself: the
one. Then, he froze, blood rushing from his face leaving behind a pale visage.
“Oh, dear God.” Scrambling out of his chair, he rushed to the bookshelf.
Desperately, he began searching for the text he needed. Nimble fingers skimmed
along the outer bindings of six rows worth of books before halting on the one
that he needed. The book was musty from disuse, yet thick – filled with vast
amounts of knowledge. So much so, that several volumes could have been written
instead of just the one.
Glancing at his watch, he noted the time: 6:00 a.m. ‘Only an hour before I
need to call Buffy,’ he thought as he mentally calculated the one-hour
time difference. Crossing back to his desk, he set the book down, once more
resuming his seat to begin a marathon research session. His earlier words to
Spike came back to haunt him. Buffy seemed to be at the center of the prophecy,
and if what he feared was true, so too was Spike.
~*~*~*~
Los Angeles
Wolfram & Hart Offices
At the same time Giles was researching new meanings to the text, Angel was
walking through the door of Wesley’s office to check on how the research of
the sketch he had dropped off earlier was coming. A clock chimed ten times,
indicating the lateness of the hour, yet Angel noticed Wesley paid it no mind.
He was thoroughly engrossed in the book laid out before him. Wesley hadn’t
even glanced up as he gave a quick knock and walked in.
“Anything, Wes?” Angel asked.
Wesley glanced up, slightly startled as the voice broke through his
concentration, just realizing that Angel was standing in his office. Recovering,
he replied, “I think I’ve got a lead. Finally. I was just starting to read
about it when you walked in.” He gave Angel an annoyed look for scaring him
half to death. Angel just let the look roll off his back, saying nothing.
“Er, yes. Like I was saying. I just started reading. But, I can tell you those
markings are for some type of protection. They allow save passage for persons
from the Draemuir dimension. Sort of a means to keep them grounded here in
ours.” He saw Angel open his mouth to ask the question, but cut him off
saying, “And, before you even ask… No, I have no idea who or what inhabits
that dimension and why they would be here. But, I am heading in the right
direction now and should have something for you in a couple of hours.
Hopefully.”
Angel sighed and walked over to the window, looking out at the night sky. ‘Why
would someone from the Draemuir dimension be here, and what does it have to do
with Buffy? Are the senior partners somehow involved?’
“… with that scroll that was delivered to me?” Wesley’s words finally
penetrated Angel’s silent musings.
“Er, what was that, Wes?”
“I said. Do you think this guy’s appearance has anything to do with that
scroll that was delivered here?”
“No. Spike said that Giles thought that the scroll had nothing to do with
them. So, we need to concentrate on this guy and try to figure out why he went
after the slayer. I’ll be back in a few hours. And, Wes?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
~*~*~*~*~
Rome
Buffy's Room
Both occupants on the bed sleep soundlessly, oblivious to the household waking
up around them. For one, it was their normal sleep schedule. For the other, it
wasn’t.
~*~*~*~*~
Rome
City Square
Dawn, along with the other girls, had woken up early. There was an art festival
in town this weekend in addition to the weekly farmer’s market held in the
square and they had all made plans to get up early and go before the crowds hit.
It was because of this that the ringing phone went unanswered. That, and the two
occupants sleeping upstairs who couldn’t be roused to answer it.
Dawn wasn’t worried when Buffy hadn’t shown for their jaunt. More than
likely Buffy was just catching up on her sleep. A little grin came to her face
as to why she would need it, but was happy because Spike was still around.
Besides, the art festival was going to be here all weekend, so it wasn’t like
Buffy was going to miss it if she didn’t come right now.
Wandering through the various booths, she tried to see if anything warranted
“gift” status. Pretty jewelry abounded and Dawn picked out a silver ring
with an amethyst stone for Buffy, and a handmade necklace for herself. She paid
for her purchases than wandered off again. She stopped when she came to a local
painter’s booth. She eyed his wares before noticing the painting he was
currently working on. When she saw what he was working on, an idea came into her
head.
“If I gave you a picture, could you paint a copy of it? Like what you’re
doing there?” she asked.
“Sure. With something to go by, I could have it finished in a few hours. You
could pick it up this afternoon once it dries,” the artist replied.
Squealing with delight, she reached into her purse to pull out her wallet.
Opening it, she extracted a picture of her and Buffy together. It was a candid
shot, taken a few years ago. Their arms were wrapped around each other and
innocent smiles played across both of their faces. She couldn’t remember who
took the picture, but it was her favorite. That’s why she had cut it down to
size to fit in her wallet. Spike would love it as a painting. Christmas was
coming; well, in another six weeks anyway. She just prayed she could keep quiet
about it until then!
~*~*~*~
Rome
Buffy's Room
Spike awoke, lying on his back, about midmorning. Eyes closed, he reached his
arms out hoping to encounter the slayer’s body, but knowing the space beside
him would probably be empty. She was normally up and about this time of day. He
smiled when his hand encountered the warm bundle lying next to him.
“Slayer, I think you overslept,” he said drowsily, eyes still closed.
He didn’t get a response. He opened his eyes at that and leaned up on one
elbow to look at her. Buffy was lying on her back, her slightly pale face the
only thing exposed above the sheet that covered her body. He reached out a hand
to gently shake her awake. She’d be pissed that she had overslept, missing
Giles’ call. His light shaking caused her to groan in her sleep. Pain, not
pleasure. The noise made him quickly pull back his hand. He sat up, instantly
awake, eyes locked on her face.
“Buffy,” he called in a louder voice, trying to wake her with his words.
When he sat up, the sheet had pulled away from her body, exposing her upper
arms. His gaze locked on what he had missed a moment earlier: twin blue streaks
starting to snake up between the valley of her breasts. Carefully, so as not to
cause her any more pain, he slowly lifted the sheet away from her body.
“Nooo…” he moaned softly. The sheet slipped from his fingers to pool
around her hips. Her upper torso was left bare to his scrutiny. The slight
spidery veins of the night before had doubled in number. She looked like someone
had painted a blue sun on her belly then drawn a bunch of rays outward from the
circle. Some reached down to the tops of her thighs, others started to circle
around her waist. More wound their way up towards her neck, not quite reaching
the tops of her breasts.
She lay unresponsive to his attempts to get her to awaken. He didn’t know what
to do. His bellow for Dawn went unanswered. Then he remembered; the girls were
at the festival. Quickly, he jumped out of bed and threw on his jeans. Call the
Watcher. He would know what to do. Spike raced out of the room to do just that.