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Chapter 55

Buffy awoke barely an hour later.  After having spent the last seventy-five years either snuggled next to Spike, or in close proximity to the others of her clan, being so far away from the group made it impossible for her to sleep for very long.  If it hadn’t been for the spell that had brought her back and rendered her so weak, she would have sought them out as soon as the others had left her mother’s home.  Even now, she was still groggy, but there was no way she was going to remain in the house without Spike by her side. 

She slipped out of bed and stood, taking a moment for the dizziness to pass.  Her hands moved automatically to fix the pleats in her plaid.  Remembering the mirror, she moved cautiously towards it, taking tentative steps close to the bed to make sure her legs would support her weight.  Her shuffling gait grew stronger as she crossed the room, her Slayer healing abilities finally kicking in to try and fight off the lingering effects of her watcher’s magicks. 

At the mirror, her eyes ran critically over her appearance.  Not that Spike would care that her hair had come loose from her solitary braid while she’d slept, but a bit of vanity reared its ugly head, and she undid the scrap of leather and quickly righted the mess.  Satisfied with her appearance as much as she could be, Buffy turned away and exited her room. 

Once outside her home, she hurried as much as possible to the nearest manhole she determined wouldn’t draw anyone’s notice and easily lifted the cover off and climbed down the ladder.  She had no idea where she was going, but figured the others would be able to find her faster this way.  Wrinkling her nose at the god-awful stench, she sloshed through the knee-deep sludge and prayed that the others would hurry. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“Giles…I…”  Angel gestured vaguely towards the exit. 

“Yes, I think that would be best,” Giles told the vampire, keeping one eye on the woman purporting to be the Slayer.  A moment later he was gone, and the watcher breathed a sigh of relief at the averted crisis.  He walked over to the girl eyeing her intently.  “The Slayer, you say?” 

“That is what I said.”  Her arms crossed over her chest defiantly. 

“And your watcher told you to come here?  To Sunnydale?”

“Yes.” 

“Why, may I ask?” 

“I know only that we were informed the Hellmouth was unguarded and Mr. Travers thought it best that I should come.  He—” 

“Quentin Travers sent you here?” Giles interrupted, incredulous.  “That bloody bastard,” he added under his breath, quickly recovering his composure and commanding the girl to wait there.  He crossed to the phone and punched in the number to the Watcher’s Council in London, uncaring of the time.  

Willow and Xander watched in amazement as the normally reserved Englishman barked out that he wanted to be connected to the Head Watcher immediately.  Silence reigned in the room until the audible sound of “Travers” being yelled could be heard from the headset. 

Giles turned his back on the others and spoke. 

“Rupert Giles here, Mr. Travers.  It appears I’ve a woman claiming to be the Slayer standing here in my library, and that she was sent here by you.  Remarkable really, given the fact that my Slayer is at home in bed…. And alive.”  His sarcasm was unmistakable. 

“Kendra was called when Buffy died briefly this past Spring,” Travers explained without preamble.  “We didn’t see fit to tell you because…well…we just didn’t.” 

Giles bit back his retort to the man’s high-handedness.  Travers did always let the power the position of Head Watcher gave him go to his head. 

“What am I supposed to do with this second Slayer?  I’m hardly equipped—” 

“You’ll have to put her up at your place until suitable accommodations can be made ready.  Besides which, it won’t hurt having a second Slayer around to help oversee the Hellmouth.  Maybe Miss Summers can learn a thing or two on how the Slayer is supposed to comport herself.” 

Travers rung off before Giles had a chance to retort, and he stood looking at the receiver as if it were an alien object for a moment before replacing it carefully in the handset.   Masking the rage threatening to overtake him, he squared his shoulders and turned around. 

“It would appear you’re to stay with me,” he told the girl.  She just stared at him with unblinking eyes and so he turned towards Willow and Xander, taking in the confusion on both their faces. 

“Willow, Xander… you may as well go on home.  I’ll see you both here at school tomorrow morning.” 

“Oh…well, ok,” Willow stammered and grabbed Xander’s arm, shepherding him around the girl still standing in front of the door. 

“Let me just grab my case and keys so I can lock up.  Then I’ll take you to my place,” Giles told Kendra, adding, “You can call your watcher from there and let him know you’ve arrived safely.” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

The longer Buffy sloshed around in the murky waters of the city’s sewers, the more she was ready to burst into tears.  She’d been walking blindly for what seemed like hours, praying that one of the others would be out keeping an eye on things and run across her.  The ends of her dress were soaked and clung to her legs, making it that much more difficult to move, and the smell… 

Her eyes watered at the disgusting odor, and she marveled at how vampires could wander around through the tunnels when their sense of smell was more sensitive than her own.  Near the end of her rope, she tensed suddenly.  Then let out a relieved sigh when she felt the approach of another.  Her pace increased until she was running awkwardly in the knee-deep water, and as she rounded the corner, she threw herself into Alric’s arms. 

“I knew you would find me,” she sobbed against his chest. 

“Shhh…I’ve got you.”  Alric swung the Slayer up into his arms and started back towards the others waiting impatiently inside the building they’d converted into temporary living quarters.  

Spike had wanted to be the one to retrieve his wife after watching the monitors and seeing Buffy leave her room, knowing she was leaving to try and find them, but nearly everyone had shouted a protest, claiming that he was still dealing with the lingering effects of the spell.  Better for one of them to go after Buffy.  Just in case they encountered something in the tunnels.  Alric had already moved towards the exit when his sire had reluctantly granted one of them leave to find Buffy – it was what he excelled at, and being in charge of overseeing the entire city, it gave him a slight edge over the others in his clan. 

Buffy relaxed completely in his arms, trusting Alric to see her safely back to Spike and the others.  Tucking her hands beneath her chin, she allowed her eyes to close. 

They hadn’t gone far when she felt him stiffen suddenly; something else was approaching, and unfortunately, they had nowhere else to go.  To retreat would alert the other because of the splashing, yet to stay there… 

The indecision cost him, and a second later, running footsteps could be heard, getting closer and closer, until another vampire burst around the corner in front of them. 

“Buffy!” Angel gasped in astonishment.  He’d been walking in the sewer tunnels on the way back to his apartment from the school, when he’d caught a trace of Buffy’s scent and took off running.  He ground to a halt at seeing her held easily in the arms of another vampire. 

A vampire who let his demonic features burst forth at his approach, a warning growl rumbling low in his throat. 

“Let her go!” Angel demanded, taking another step forward.

Buffy opened her eyes to see a vaguely familiar person – vampire – standing in front of her and Alric.  Then she remembered.  Angel.  She chanced a glance up at Alric and knew better than to distract him; he was in the role of protector right now and wouldn’t listen to a thing she might say.  No matter that the vampire barring their exit was distant family.  She sat up and Alric easily accommodated the move, eyes still pinned on the threat in front of him. 

“Put me down, Alric,” she told him softly.  And although the words carried to Angel, he had no idea what she’d just said.  He did, however, see the negative shake he gave the Slayer, and how his grip tightened about her legs and lower back.  

“I said, let her go.”  Angel growled his own warning and a second later, charged forward.  

In the blink of an eye, Buffy found herself on her feet and thrust behind Alric’s back, then the vampire stood ready to meet the oncoming threat.  His hand reached automatically for the sword that was never far from his side, brandishing the blade as the other drew near. 

“Don’t kill him,” Buffy cried, trying to blend in with the wall and stay out of Alric’s way.  He didn’t answer her, but she saw his slight smirk and brief nod…and relaxed. 

Angel drew up short at finding himself so quickly outmaneuvered.  He held his arms wide as the blade pointed in his direction nearly came into contact with his chest.  While the razor-sharp steel wouldn’t kill him outright unless aimed for his neck, any cut he might take would leave an indelible mark and cost him his chance of rescuing the Slayer.  Rather than move forward, closer to the vampire, Angel tried to circle around closer to Buffy.  But, his opponent was smart, wise to his strategy, and shifted slightly so that he kept himself between Angel and Buffy, the sword still pointed threateningly in his direction.  Like the vampire was trying to protect the Slayer from him. 

“Buffy?” Angel questioned softly when he didn’t see her try to escape.  Something he’d only just now noticed. 

“Go home, Angel,” Buffy told him, and at his confused look, she repeated it again.  This time in English. 

“You can’t actually mean to—” 

A growl cut off Angel’s comment. 

“He is… mine…” 

She struggled with how to explain it to him, moving closer to Alric, but careful to remain behind him so that he had a clear view of Angel.  Lifting her hand towards the blade, she drew her palm along the sharp edge, creating a line of crimson across the surface. 

Angel nostrils flared as the smell of her blood hit the air, and he struggled to contain the demon lurking just beneath the surface. 

Alric’s eyes never left his opponent as he took one hand off the hilt to draw the Slayer close. He drew Buffy’s hand up to his lips and licked at the blood pooling in her hand, until the self-inflicted wound closed over.  The soft rumbling in his chest was automatic, the gift of the Slayer’s blood precious whenever it was bestowed calmed even his worst bloodlust. 

It was this familiarity, this almost familial bonding, which caused the other vampire’s eyes to glitter in outrage. 

“He is mine,” she whispered again in stilted English, leaning into Alric’s side and staring quietly at the tall, brooding vampire. 

“No!” Angel bellowed.  His anger got the best of him and he charged the pair. 

Alric shoved Buffy out of the way and tensed in preparation of the other vampire’s attack.  Angel was careless as his rage consumed him and Alric took advantage, easily dodging the fists that, had he been merely a fledge, he might not have avoided.  But, he wasn’t.  He’d been fighting for a long time, had learned from some of the best teachers in the last two hundred years. 

In a few short moves, Angel was shoved face first up against the wall with the sword at his neck.  A staying hand on Alric’s prevented the vampire from finishing it. 

“Leave him,” Buffy told him.  Her eyes beseeched him to let the vampire go.  For them to just leave and hurry back to the others. 

Alric stood there for a moment, staring at the back of the vampire that had threatened them.  He leaned in, his blade nicking the flesh at the other’s neck. 

“For Buffy,” he whispered, his English also rusty from disuse.  Then the blade was removed and he brought the hilt of his sword down on the vampire’s head. 

When Angel roused himself a few minutes later, there was no sign of either the vampire or Buffy. 

~*~*~*~*~

Alric wasn’t surprised to see Esme and Derrick standing at the bottom of ladder that would put them near the entrance to their building.  He’d been gone long enough to warrant the whole clan descending on him. 

“Ran into a bit of trouble,” he told them as he neared. 

“Spike’s not happy,” Esme warned.  “When we left to come find you, he was barking at Adam for not having installed cameras in all of Sunnydale’s sewer tunnels.” 

Alric glanced down at the Slayer in his arms.  “Can you make it up the ladder?” 

She nodded and he set her down, urging her up the steps.  Once all four were back above ground and the cover had been fitted back over the manhole, Alric once more lifted Buffy into his arms and followed behind the other two towards the entrance.  She didn’t protest, the magicks and subsequent confrontation with Angel had left her drained.  All she wanted was to take a shower to wash away the stench pervading her body and curl up in bed with Spike…and perhaps sleep for a few days straight.

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