Midnight in the Garden of Evil
Chapter 17
~*~*~*~*~
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt
and
flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed
he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Edgar Allen Poe
The Raven
~*~*~*~*~
Ripper swallowed down the urge to slaughter every single occupant of Sunnydale
as he strolled through the centre of town. He watched them mill about aimlessly,
burdened down with groceries to feed their bloated bodies, witless smiles
plastered on vacant faces. The parents of one of his students stopped to thank
him for recommending a reading list; it was all he could do not to rip out their
throats as they stood in front of him, sweaty and cheerful, whining on and on
about their ‘little girl’. Trying his best to be polite, he managed to
escape by pleading a prior appointment.
After all, it was the truth. He’d stopped by his old apartment to dress
himself in Watcher tweed again, making a telephone call to Joyce Summers as he
practiced “concerned Giles” in the mirror. She’d been back a week with no
sign of Buffy. Willow had helped enormously by inventing a story about Buffy
taking a call from her father to say he’d been in an accident. Since Joyce
Summers had no idea of her ex-husband’s whereabouts and Buffy had, under
Willow’s supervision, left a brief message on the answer service to say she
was with her dad and would call soon, there was nothing to do but wait.
A week had gone by without any contact from her daughter and Joyce was becoming
anxious. She was already hounding Giles with messages at the school and on his
phone and it was only a matter of time before she went looking for Willow and
Xander. And once that happened, it would become apparent that all was not right
in Sunnydale and his careful planning would start to unravel before he was
ready.
So here he was on his way to meet the Slayer’s mother at her home. He wasn’t
entirely sure how to play it so he’d just have to rely on instinct. At the
front door of 1630 Revello Drive, he settled his form into Rupert Giles stance
and knocked.
After a brief delay the door opened. Joyce Summers was immaculately groomed as
usual but her eyes bore signs of restless sleep. She couldn’t help leaning
round to look behind him, obviously looking to see if he was bringing home her
daughter.
“Mr Giles. Please, come in. I haven’t thanked you for looking out for Buffy
while I was out of town.”
“That’s quite alright, Mrs Summers, it was a pleasure, really.”
He was shown into the living room where he took a seat on the couch. After
accepting the offer of tea, both of them sat in silence sipping their drinks.
“So, have you heard from Buffy?”
“Oh, no… I was hoping… when you rang I thought you were coming to tell me
she’d been in touch. I just get the feeling that she doesn’t want to talk to
me for some reason - maybe because she’s with her dad. I don’t think she’s
ever forgiven me for leaving him, bringing her here. Oh, I don’t know! I’m
just… I’m not sleeping well. I won’t settle until I speak to her.”
Giles smiled, his features trying to remember ‘sympathetic and caring’.
“It’s perfectly understandable. Although, I’m sure she’s fine. I think
you’re probably right. I know we have discussed her feelings about… well, I
don’t want to break her confidence but in the circumstances…”
“She’s spoken about the divorce… with you?”
“Well, yes – she has. I’m sorry… you don’t even know me. I think
it’s fair to say that Buffy has turned to me for some kind of parental support
since she’s been in Sunnydale. Oh – don’t take it as a personal reflection
on yourself, Mrs Summers.”
This was so easy! One mention that Buffy may be affected by her mother’s
decision to leave her father and the guilt hit big time.
“She really doesn’t blame you. She just misses her father.”
Joyce’s bottom lip quivered as she tried to keep a hold of her emotions.
“I know. It’s been hard on her… she was only a baby really. I could have
tried… but Hank and I …it was over. There was no point prolonging the agony.
Do you… do you think that she’s gone for good? Maybe she’s decided she
wants to be with him instead?”
“I suppose it’s possible. I know she’s been keeping in touch with him. He
used to ring her when she was in the library. It was a regular thing…”
“She never told me…” Joyce’s voice tapered off to a whisper.
“No? Well perhaps she thought you wouldn’t understand.”
Tears pooled in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Taking a chance, Giles
moved to sit closer to her and ventured a calming hand on her own; it wasn’t
snatched away.
Emboldened, he sat back on the couch and threw an arm around her shoulders
hugging her to him.
“Joyce… can I call you Joyce?”
She nodded.
“Don’t worry about Buffy; she’s a remarkable young woman. She’ll be home
soon, I’m sure.”
“I just can’t help it. She’s my little girl, you know? I…I miss her.”
Gently, so as not to frighten her, Giles placed a soft kiss on her cheek.
Unconsciously, Joyce leaned into him, drawn to the feel of warm arms around her,
taking comfort from his concern.
Ripper stifled a chuckle. Were all the Summers women this easy? No wonder Spike
never left the bedroom.
Sighing, decision made, she moved in his arms, her lips upturned and parted,
begging to be kissed. He obliged her, a chaste meeting of lips with the ghost of
a tongue sweeping their plump surface. He drew away from her leaving her gasping
at the loss.
Time to turn the screw.
“Erm… sorry, …I’m sorry, Joyce – that was hardly appropriate. I do
apologize.” Giles let go of the hand he still held in his.
Joyce flushed crimson, her arms crossed tight against her chest as she withdrew
into herself. Not only did she now have “mom-guilt” but she’d also behaved
like a sex-starved housewife.
“It’s fine Joyce, I’m sure it was just the fact that you’re distressed
with Buffy’s absence. I understand; I won’t draw any inferences from it.”
He pushed his spectacles back up his nose and smoothed his tie, face a mask of
distaste. For extra effect, he scooted away from her on the couch.
“I’ll let myself out. I’ll let you know if I hear anything from Buffy.
Don’t worry, I’m sure she’s just making up for lost time with her father.
I’ll be in touch, Mrs Summers.”
He deliberately distanced himself by using her formal name. She flinched at his
words, tears welling and falling again. She was a picture of anguish, head
bowed, arms crossed and rocking softly.
Ripper grinned. That was a treat. Maybe when he returned from England he’d
prey on her again.
He closed the door behind him, heading off to the factory to pack up shop and
head back to the motherland.
~*~*~*~*~
Willow was still reclined in the tangled sheets, unwilling to leave the bed
where she’d discovered such delights. Maybe if she waited long enough, her
tutor would return and teach her some more. Or maybe…she could compel him.
She was about to summon her inner forces when Ripper walked in the doorway.
“Lover, I was just going to send for you… and please lose the tweed – it
really doesn’t do it for me.”
He chuckled.
“Gladly.”
Ripper stripped the loathsome cloth from his lean frame, delighting Willow with
his complete lack of inhibition. She pouted, however, when he immediately donned
his other clothes, concealing the source of her satisfaction.
“Get dressed, Willow. We’ve work to do.”
She knew by his tone that all the pouting in the world wouldn’t bring him to
her bed. Reluctantly she threw back the sheets, her pale skin almost the same
shade as the ivory satin. Eyeing him from beneath lowered lashes, she stretched
her arms above her head arching her back. Nothing. He really wasn’t in the
mood.
With a sigh of regret she slid off the bed and padded to the clothes heaped on
the floor where she’d left them. The leather pants molded to her flesh and the
corset gave a delicious constriction when she laced it tight, the swell of her
breasts peeping over the ruffle of scarlet lace.
All business now, she turned to face Ripper.
“I’m ready; when do we leave?”
“Today. Go and alert Spike and Buffy. I have calls to make. I’ll be at my
apartment. Be there after sunset.”
Willow nodded, breathless at the tone of command in his voice. It hit her right
between her legs. To think, she’d gone all of her life without knowing this
thrill. Momentarily, she mourned Drusilla and the feelings the dark haired
vampire had started to awaken in her. It was something she’d explore further,
when time allowed.
Smiling to herself she went to wake Spike and Buffy and advise them of
Ripper’s timetable.
~*~*~*~*~
“Quentin? Yes, it’s Rupert Giles. I’m aware that I haven’t filed a
report… well, perhaps if you’d ever been in the field you’d appreciate
that sometimes actions are more important than sending long-winded
explanations.”
The more he thought about the Watchers’ Council, the more he wanted to just
bomb it out of existence. But that would be over too quickly; he had a better
idea…
“If you could just listen to me for a moment. Thank you. We have a problem.
Buffy’s missing… no, I’ve no idea. She just vanished. Yes, I assure you I
have exhausted every line of enquiry; I’ve just left her mother in fact.
She’s very distressed.”
He held the receiver away from his ear as Travers’ condescending tones had him
gritting his teeth.
“And that’s not all. Angelus has returned.”
There was silence at the other end of the line.
“Quentin? Did you hear me?”
Ripper swirled the glass of scotch he’d snagged from the kitchen; a sly smile
stole over his face.
“Well, if you insist. You will? Wonderful, then there’s no need to delay.
Oh, I think the airfield by the military base will be the nearest. Thank you.
I’ll be in touch as soon as I land.”
Replacing the receiver, he drained the glass, his eyes flaring red. Well who’d
have thought that the Watcher’s Council wanted to welcome him home and were
sending a jet for him to boot?
Taking a last look around, he left Rupert Giles’ home, bearing weapons and
amulets that may prove useful. Time to enter the belly of the beast. And the
beast would choke on him.
~*~*~*~*~
Buffy, Spike and Willow were lounging about in the factory when Ripper returned.
Willow had sent out for a pizza and was happily devouring a Margherita with
mushrooms. Spike and Buffy were finishing off the pizza delivery boy. As Buffy
drained the last of his lifeblood, Spike grabbed the empty husk and threw it off
to one side to join the other four bodies.
Ripper chuckled as he entered.
“The people of Sunnydale are really stupid. Who’d be a delivery boy in this
place? Do any of them ever return for a second order?”
“Couldn’t say, mate. Don’t really care to be honest. What’s the plan?”
Spike was sucking at his teeth, getting the last of the blood to wash over his
tongue. Buffy mewled at him and he settled her on his knee allowing her to lap
at his mouth like a kitten.
Ripper looked at them with disdain. Lustful couplings were one thing, but these
two were almost sickening in their devotion to each other.
“We go to England. I’ve informed Travers of the missing Slayer and of
Angelus’ return. I can assure you that I will be welcomed with open arms.
I’ll get inside and arrange for a weak spot and then… well, then you can
slaughter every living one of them.”
“That’s a plan, Ripper. But the Council’s bound to have some sort of
Detectovamp setup. How do you suppose Buffy and I will slip inside the hallowed
halls?”
“Don’t worry, Spike. I’ve thought of that. You do remember we have Willow,
don’t you?”
He pulled the witch to his side, crushing her lips with a bruising kiss. Willow
leaned against him, one hand on his chest.
“I think you’ll find that I have surprises in store for them. They’re
expecting Rupert Giles – they’re getting Ripper. They don’t know Buffy’s
a vampire, they have no idea we’re working together and Willow…well, Willow
is our secret weapon.”
Spike nodded in acknowledgement.
“So, Ripper. We saddle up and head on home?”
“We do. Get ready to leave within the hour. Would you believe that the Council
is sending the jet for me? It’ll be easy enough for Willow to cloak you two,
or work a forgetting spell on the pilot, and there’s no reason why Willow
shouldn’t accompany me to give a full report to the Council. The best of
everything en route -- if memory serves it’s like the Ritz on board. And
it’s all courtesy of those morons. ”
“Sounds good. Buffy and I will just go and find ourselves a little snack
before we leave. I doubt the Council of Wankers caters to the vampire traveler.
We’ll meet you at the airfield. Don’t leave without us!”
“Just be there, Spike. Don’t mess this up.”
Spike raised his eyebrow at Ripper’s tone. But now was not the time for a face
off. Without further words, Buffy and Spike slipped out into the night.
Willow moved to stand behind Ripper, slipping her hands around his middle then
moving lower to ghost across his groin. Standing on tiptoe, she whispered
against his ear.
“A whole hour to kill. Whatever shall we do to pass the time?”
With a snarl, Ripper turned and grasped her arms. Willow smiled against his
mouth as he started to kiss her hungrily, raising her legs to lock around his
back as he carried her up the stairs to his bed.