Banner by Selene
Banner
by Selene
Chapter 18: Convergence
In Flight
Somewhere over Northern Italy
Giles sat in the last row of the first class seats, pouring over the books and
papers he had spread out on every available space in his little area. His lap,
the tray table, and adjacent seat bore evidence of Giles in “research mode.”
This ailment of the slayer did not bode well for their line. He had found some
obscure passage mentioning, he thought, the First Slayer. But, he wasn’t
concentrating on that right now. Currently, he was trying to find something to
combat whatever had - for want of a better word - inhabited, his slayer’s
body. Whatever it was had Spike worried, and Giles wasn’t one to disregard the
vampire’s instincts.
He paused in his research to glance at his watch. He estimated that they would
be arriving in Rome in about another thirty minutes, or so. Sighing, he went
back to the book laid out on his lap, once more becoming engrossed in his
research. Time was of the essence, and every moment spent researching was one
not squandered away.
~*~*~*~*~
Los Angeles
1:45 a.m. Pacific Standard Time
Angel entered Wesley’s office to see both him and Fred frantically gathering
up loose papers that were scattered haphazardly around the office. They paid him
no mind as they scooped up discarded books, closing them and stacking them
neatly on Wesley’s desk.
“What’s going on?” Angel asked.
Fred and Wesley abruptly halted their actions, guilt mixed with sorrow colored
their features. Tearing their gazes from Angel, they glanced at each other. A
silent question played across both their faces. In the end, Fred nodded and
turned back to Angel.
“It’s Buffy,” she said. “She’s been hurt-” Fred’s voice trailed
off at the look on Angel’s face. She never was much of a “news-giving”
type of person, and she semi-stuttered through her brief tale. “Giles called
Wes. He said he was taking the next flight out to Rome. Apparently, Spike had
called him saying that the slay, er, Buffy wouldn’t wake up. Giles needs any
information that we’ve been able to come up with on Buffy’s attacker in
hopes of determining what he has done to her. We’ve been gathering everything
we have since he called.” She gestured to the mountain of books and papers
stacked on Wesley’s desk.
“Finish grabbing what you need and bring it with you. We’re on a flight to
Rome as soon as the jet can get us cleared for takeoff.” A blank mask had
descended on Angel’s face as Fred had given her explanation. A thousand
thoughts and questions were running through his mind, but he couldn’t dwell on
them. Right now he had to stay focused. ‘Get the stuff, get on the
plane.’
Once he was in the air was soon enough for him to dwell on the situation.
Fred and Wes just nodded, knowing it was a given they would be heading to Rome.
And Wes, wanting to get a head start, had placed the call to get the plane ready
as soon as he had hung up with Angel. “Angel,” Wes said, stopping Angel’s
departure from his office.
Angel froze, his hand resting on the doorknob. “I’ve taken the liberty of
forewarning the pilots. They should be there with a flight plan approved by the
time we arrive. We’re already packed. We were just gathering up what we needed
here.”
Angel glanced back, grief evident on his features, and gave a brief nod.
“Thanks, Wes. Let me grab a quick bag and I’ll meet you in the garage.”
Without another word he walked out of the office to grab his things.
He made quick work of packing a duffle bag. He didn’t care that he was
traveling light. He wouldn’t have bothered at all, but the fight with the
Kremlick demon had left him with a ripped pair of pants and a ripe shirt.
Quickly, he discarded his stale clothes, replacing them with something clean. He
would have taken a shower to get rid of the battle stench, but he had already
taken up enough time changing his clothes and stuffing the duffle bag with
others. He figured he would meet Fred and Wes about the same time in the garage,
if he left his room right now. So he did. Grabbing his bag, he made his way down
to the garage level to the waiting limousine.
The ride to the airport was completed in silence, each of the occupants in the
back lost in their own thoughts. Words right now seemed, somehow, inappropriate.
At least the ride wasn’t long, and the awkward silence was soon a distant
memory. The limousine pulled right onto the tarmac, a few feet from the company
jet. As the car rolled to a stop, the pilot came out to greet the trio.
“Mr. Angel, our flight plan has been approved and we can leave as soon as you
are all on board and your luggage is stowed,” the pilot said, by way of
greeting.
Not bothering to correct the pilot about his name, he just said, “Then,
let’s go.”
Twenty minutes later, the Wolfram & Hart company jet was streaking its way
eastward towards Rome, the night lights of Los Angeles a distant blur.
~*~*~*~*~
Rome
4:00 p.m. Local Time
Giles was brought out of his silent musings as his plane taxied at the Rome
Leonardo da Vinci Airport. He had repacked his books and papers when the call
came that they were beginning their descent. Afterwards, his mind had drifted,
replaying the information he had gleaned from his books over and over in his
mind.
The pilot’s voice came over the intercom welcoming them to the great city of
Rome and announcing that travelers were now allowed to turn on cell phones, and
other electronic devises, as well as voicing other useless ramblings that no one
really paid any attention to. As soon as humanly possible, the passengers stood
up to prepare for disembarking. Giles had reached into his internal breast
pocket of his coat and turned his phone on as soon as the pilot’s announcement
started. By the time the pilot had finished his speech, Giles had gathered up
his things and was ready to make his way towards the exit. First class seats
sure came in handy at times!
As he was making his way up the gangplank, his cell phone went off. Without
stopping his forward progress to the main terminal, he deftly snagged the
ringing phone out of his pocket. He clicked the “ok” button and rattled off
a hello. It was Dawn. Both she and Angelina were waiting to meet him at the
baggage claim turnstiles. Oh, and Spike wanted her to tell him that Buffy had
woken up for a few minutes and appeared to be sleeping better now. And, that it
was really cool that Giles had decided to take a brief holiday to check up on
his girls. And, wouldn’t it be such a surprise to Buffy, even though she came
down with some sort of flu bug last night. Giles paused momentarily at that
cryptic message. Obviously the vampire didn’t tell Dawn the truth about
Buffy’s condition. Well, he wouldn’t be the one to mention it either.
Giles met up with the girls a few minutes later. He passed off his carry-on to
Angelina so that he could stand by the spinning rack – along with everyone
else – to wait for his bags to come up the ramp. Someone was smiling down on
him, because his bags were one of the first to be spit out by the conveyor belt.
Lifting his bags off the revolving platform, he engaged the wheels and moved off
towards customs. With his credentials, he was soon passing out into the open
air, followed by Dawn and Angelina. Dawn had just seen Francesca drive by, so
they would need to wait a few moments for her to pass back by.
“Geez, Giles! This bag is heavy. Don’t you ever leave your books at home?”
Dawn asked cheekily.
“Well, yes. Er, that is, I was working on a little research, when Spike called
me about visiting-” Giles began, trying to lie his way through an explanation.
When slight shock registered on Dawn’s face, he pushed on with his story.
“Anyway, Spike said that Buffy was feeling a mite lonely, and could I perhaps
drop in for a few days. Maybe surprise her. And, it’s been a while since
I’ve been here. Could call it a Council’s check-up visit. See how things are
running and such,” he babbled on. Dawn’s face registered even more
shock/surprise, if such a thing were possible.
Sighing, Giles just said, “No, Dawn, I don’t ever leave my books at home.
It’s a watcher’s dictum.”
Shock disappeared from the teenager’s face, then she rolled her eyes. “You
could have just said that. No reason for the elaborate ‘Spike wanted me to
come, yada, yada, yada, tale.’ As if.” She snorted. ‘Spike calling
Giles. Please!’
“Quite right.” Giles gave a mental sigh of relieve that Dawn seemed to have
dropped the subject. He hadn’t however, and his first order of business was a
nice, long chat with a certain peroxide vampire.
~*~*~*~*~
Rome
Earlier that day ~ about 2:00 p.m.
Spike sat beside the bed, holding Buffy’s hand, his eyes roaming up and down
her still form. Her breathing had evened out somewhat, and her heart rate
wasn’t as shallow as it had been earlier. ‘That’s it, slayer. Fight
it!’ They stayed like that for about an hour, neither figure moving,
except for the steady rise and fall of Buffy’s chest.
Spike thought it was music to his ears when his slayer let out a slight groan.
His gaze locked on her face searching for any signs of movement. A few minutes
later, he was rewarded when her brows twitched in a way that indicated she was
trying to wake up but couldn’t figure out where she was and why. Her eyelashes
began to flutter, then finally open. She moved her head slightly so that her
glazed look could bring Spike’s face in to view. Buffy tried to open her mouth
to speak but she felt like whatever moisture she once had in her mouth and
throat was gone.
“No, luv. Don’t try to talk. Just rest and let that slayer body of yours do
its job.” She didn’t understand, he could tell she didn’t, so he tried to
explain. “Your bruise is spreading. Gave me quite a scare when you wouldn’t
wake up earlier. Giles is flying in and will be here in a few hours. He should
be able to whip up something to get you all better. You just rest now. Ok?”
Buffy just closed her eyes and gave a slight nod, drifting into an easier sleep.
Spike stood up and brushed the hair off her face. He had heard the girls
entering the front door a moment ago, and he needed to go confront Dawn before
she found out about the seriousness of Buffy’s condition.
~*~*~*~*~
Spike walked into the kitchen, forcing a nonchalance he did not feel. He nodded
to a few girls that were fixing themselves some lunch and went to grab some
blood out of the refrigerator. He poured some into a mug and popped it into the
microwave. While he waited for it to warm up, he turned to Dawn.
“Where’s Buffy,” she asked, before he had time to say anything.
“Uh, she came down with some sort of flu bug. I came down to find some soup
for her,” Spike tried to lie. He couldn’t remember a time when the slayer
had ever been sick, and he hoped Dawn wouldn’t call him on it. She didn’t
seem to question his response; rather, she got up and went to the panty to pull
out a can of chicken noodle.
“So, that’s why she didn’t come with us this morning. She’s gonna be so
upset she missed the art festival. Hopefully, she’ll be better later, and can
maybe go tomorrow,” Dawn said as she walked over to Spike to hand him the can.
He gave her a quick, but tight hug. If she noticed he seemed a tad more
clinging, she didn’t mention it.
“Thanks, Dawn. She’s sleeping right now, so I’ll leave this on the counter
for later,” Spike replied. “Oh, hey! Guess who’s coming to visit us for a
few days?”
Dawn pulled out of his embrace to look up at him. “Who?”
“Giles.”
“Really? Wow! It’s been like months since he’s been here! Him showing up
should help motivate Buffy into kicking that nasty flu bug,” she responded,
beaming a smile up at him.
“Yeah. Think you can go pick him up at the airport?”
“Sure. Not a problem. When does he get in?”
“You’ll have to call his office for his flight information. I was upstairs
when the phone rang a bit ago. You have the number, right?”
“Yep. I’ll go call now then take a few girls with me to the airport to meet
him.”
“Thanks, ‘Niblet. Be careful.”