Banner by Selene
Banner
by Selene
Chapter 19: The First to Arrive
In flight
Somewhere over the United States
Once the plane leveled out, the three passengers unbuckled their safety belts
settling more comfortably in their seats. A few minutes later, Wesley stood up
and grabbed the bag that had all his research on the Draemuir dimension.
Carefully, he placed the stuff out on the adjacent table and got back to work.
After a moment, Fred joined him.
Angel just sat in his chair, lost in thought, as the jet slowly made its way
towards Rome. He didn’t know what to feel. On the one hand, he knew that Buffy
had moved on from their relationship. She had even told him that Spike, his own
grandchilde, was in her heart. What that meant, he wasn’t really sure. He
hadn’t asked for details during their last meeting, just calmly went home when
she told him to. Shoot, even he had started to move on, sort of. There was a lot
of drama that signified his relationship-or what passed for his
relationship-with Cordelia. Unfortunately, she was still in a coma, after the
whole “Jasmine incident” and they were never really able to hash out what
they meant to each other. Besides, there was that whole “happiness” clause
he had to deal with. He didn’t make for an especially nice vampire if he broke
it.
Plus, this tentative relationship with his grandchilde, Spike, was another
matter. Spike was family, or what passed for family as vampires. Most times he
was a pain-in-the-ass, but still, he was family. If he had been a vampire
without a soul, Spike’s feelings wouldn’t really have mattered. But, he was,
and they did. Care, that is. Cared for both of them. Deep in his soul, he knew
that Buffy and he could never truly be together. As much as they both may have
once wished it were so. He would carry the memory of that day he was human until
he was dust, but it was time to let her go and have her shot at happiness. It
wasn’t going to be easy.
With that thought uppermost in his mind, he vowed he would help find a way to
get Buffy better and deal with this demon from the Draemuir dimension. Turning
to his two friends pouring over texts, he asked, “So, Wes, what have you
learned about this Draemuir dimension?”
Wesley looked up from the book he was reading and sat back in his chair.
“Quite a lot actually. The Draemuir dimension is ruled by a class of demons
called the Draelorns. They’re shape-shifters, after a sort. Similar in
appearance to humans, thus very difficult to differentiate. Very vicious, ruling
with strength and fear. The positive is that they rule over their dimension are
content to stay there. I honestly don’t know why someone bearing their
markings would be here in this dimension.”
“I guess the Draelorns aren’t content to play nice in their own house
anymore. But, why would they come here? It’s not like were running on a
shortage of slayers anymore.” Angel had no way of knowing how prophetic his
words were. None of them did. “I’m assuming that they can be killed, right?
We’re not talking gods and goddesses here, are we?”
“Ah, no. Nothing in my research indicates that they can’t be killed like any
other demon inhabiting this earth. Although, we have to allow for some leeway
between dimensions. As for the markings Buffy’s attacker bore, I guess their
essence can’t sustain in this dimension without them. So, if we notice a run
on marked demons, we’ll have a heads-up.”
“Ok. Mark that as a plus in the good column. Easily identifiable.”
~*~*~*~*~
Rome
5:00 p.m. Local Time
Giles breathed a sigh of relief when the car came to a stop in front of their
destination. He watched as Dawn glanced over at him and rolled her eyes. Typical
teenagers. He had probably lost ten years of his life and gained another hundred
gray hairs after that roller coaster adventure they referred to as
“driving.”
“Er, yes. We’ve made it,” Giles said aloud to the passengers at large. He
doubted anyone heard his mumbled, “praise God.” Opening the passenger door,
he alighted on shaky legs. Reacquainting himself with the nice, non-moving
ground beneath his feet, he walked around to the back of the vehicle to retrieve
his luggage. Once the back hatch was open, he grabbed the two largest pieces and
headed for the front door. Dawn and Francesca grabbed the remaining two pieces
and followed behind after locking the car. He heard them talking about typical
teenager stuff as they trailed along behind him. No mention was made about
Buffy’s sickness. Maybe the vampire was right not to have Dawn made aware of
the danger. Seeing her now, happy and carefree, was worth any flack they may
catch at a later date. He had to agree with what Spike had done; Dawn needed
this normalcy. However, Giles would never admit it to the vampire. Heaven forbid
they ever agree on anything!
When they opened up the front door, Giles was surprised to see Spike descending
the stairs to greet him. Looking at him, Giles would never know that this was
the same vampire that called him but a few hours ago in a panic. ‘No wonder
he was so good at poker; he probably bluffed his way through every hand.’
Spike came to stand a few feet in front of Giles in the entryway. “Watcher,”
Spike said by way of greeting. They didn’t shake hands, but Spike did grab one
of the suitcases that Giles had placed on the floor. Turning on his heel,
suitcase in hand, he headed for the stairs. “We put you in the room across
from Buffy. Hope that’s ok.”
“That’ll be fine, Spike,” Giles replied, following Spike as he made his
way up to the second level. For the benefit of the other two girls, Spike said,
“Buffy woke up again a bit ago. I got her to eat some soup, well, drink the
broth anyway. Then, she fell back asleep. I guess this bug is kicking her ar-,
er” Spike censored himself at the last moment.
“Well, at least she’s eating something,” Giles talked over the momentary
silence, playing along with Spike’s story. “That’s always a good sign that
you’re on the mend.” It seemed to be working. The two girls detected none of
the undercurrents in the conversation between the two men. They just assumed
Buffy was sick, nothing more.
Spike paused before the door across from Buffy’s room. He grabbed the doorknob
with his free hand and opened the door. Walking into the room, he placed the
suitcase, which was probably full of books judging from the weight of the thing,
beside the table. Giles and the two girls walked in behind him. Dawn and
Francesca dropped the bags they were carrying then made a hasty retreat back
down to the first level waving a quick “see ya” over their shoulders. When
Spike was assured they were no longer in hearing range he spoke.
“She’s sleeping better now, but I can tell she’s in a lot of pain,”
Spike said, the pain of uttering those words reflected in his gaze.
“Let me see her.”
Spike nodded and they crossed the hall to Buffy’s room. Quietly, they slipped
inside shutting the door behind them. No need to have any eavesdroppers
listening in. Both men walked over to the bed where Buffy lay sleeping. Spike
slipped the sheet back, exposing Buffy. Earlier Spike had slipped her into one
of his t-shirts and a pair of panties for modesty’s sake. Giles’ modesty,
that is. Carefully, he lifted the t-shirt up until it reached the underside of
her breasts. A shocked gasp left Giles’ lips when he got a look at the bruise
covering his slayer’s midriff.
“Have you ever seen anything like it?” Spike asked, not taking his eyes off
of Buffy.
When he didn’t hear a response, he glanced back inquiringly at Giles. Unshed
tears danced before the watcher’s eyes, and he was slowly shaking his head no.
Spike took pity on him. “It’ll be ok, Rupert. She’s strong. She’s
already woken up, twice even. And, she’s eaten a little something too. I’m
sure you’ll be able to figure out whatever it is that’s hurting her and fix
it.” Spike resettled the t-shirt down around Buffy’s hips and pulled the
sheet back up over her. He pinned Giles with a stare, very much wanting to
believe the words he had just uttered to him. He needed to believe them. He
couldn’t live without her, didn’t want to. Giles had to make her better.
Once more getting his emotions under control, Giles replied, “Quiet right.
I’ll just go back across the hall and see what I can come up with.”
Although, he didn’t believe the lie that had just come out of his mouth. He
had never seen anything quite like the bruising that was covering Buffy’s body
and appeared to be spreading. He only hoped that Wesley could find out more
about Buffy’s attacker. At least then they would have a starting point.
Remembering Wesley, he told Spike, “I’m expecting faxes from your friends in
L.A. about Buffy’s attacker. Hopefully, that will point us in the right
direction for fixing this.”
“The fax machine is down in the office. You passed in on your way to the
stairs. Which I’m sure you already know…so why am I telling you this? You
can set up your stuff down there, or here. It’s up to you. The girls stay out
of there for the most part, so you shouldn’t be interrupted. I’m going to go
back to Buffy. Come get me if you need me.” And with that, Spike walked out
leaving Giles to whatever it was that he was going to do.
He paused in the doorway. “Watcher,” he said, not looking back.
“Thanks.” Without waiting for a reply, he softly shut the door behind him.
Giles just gazed at the closed door in bewilderment. Since when did Spike ever
thank anyone for something?