Enemy IncognitoBy Wynn
Chapter Eighteen: Answers
"Generally, I take assassination attempts on my life pretty well. It comes with the territory. All sorts of wannabe Big Bads try to prove their mettle by taking out the Slayer. Some try real hard, too. They get creative; try more than the standard one-on-one duel to the death. There was the time that I got locked in a sewer with a faulty weapon and a bunch of demons. The woman who did that got skewered by her own demonic Frankenstein. Not pretty."Then three nerds sent this bank robbing demon in an ugly ass shirt after me because I ruined their adolescent fantasy of becoming the next James Bond. I beat the demon to death with a copper water pipe, and one-third of the nerds was skinned alive and flambéed by my best friend… of course this was after he shot and nearly killed me, so she was a tad pissed. I mean end of the world rage.
"Oh… and then there was one vampire who sent the Order of Taraka after me. You do know who the Order of Taraka was, don't you? Supposedly wicked assassins dating back to… well, who really gives a shit? They were old, they were tough, and they were taken out in less than a day. And you don't even want to know what happened to the vampire who was crazy enough to send them after me. His fate… Quite shocking really."
Buffy stopped in front of the chained assassin. She leaned into him, her hazel eyes sparking with barely restrained rage. She latched onto his jaw, fingers tightening, knuckles turning white, and forced him to look into her eyes as she continued, "You know what the difference is between all of them and you? They didn't attack my little sister. The only tramp who tried that was a psychotic hell god from another dimension, and she doesn't exist anymore. You made a mistake when you came after me, my friends, and my family."
Buffy paused, her gaze dropping down to where her hand gripped the blood caked, scar laden jaw of the man in black. She squeezed, her nails digging into his flesh. One corner of her mouth quirked up when she saw a faint flash of pain appear in his eyes. "The way I feel now I would keep squeezing until your jaw crumbled beneath my fingers. But, lucky for you, it's the only thing keeping you alive. You will tell me who sent you and your Mafia rejects after me. And if you value keeping all of your parts you will tell me soon."
She shoved him away from her, causing the back of his head to smack against the concrete pillar he was chained to. Turning, Buffy walked away from the captured assassin, flipping her golden hair over her shoulder, and she ascended the stairs leading from the basement to the first floor. Her eyes flickered down to Giles, who was leaning against the concrete steps, then to Spike, who stood directly in front of the man in black, before exiting the basement.
As the door slammed behind her, Giles pushed off of the stone steps and moved towards the chained man. He slowly circled the assassin, his hands polishing his glasses with a soft cloth. Giles held the glasses up in the air and examined them in the moonlight filtering in through the grimy windows high on the basement walls. "You must forgive her. Matters concerning her sister tend to bring out a very… protective aspect of her personality."
A wisp of a smile appeared on Giles' face as he replaced his glasses. "Although I'm sure you know all about Buffy, as well as the rest of us. You don't seem the sort to enter into a confrontation without knowing everything there is to know about your adversary. In that respect, we are similar.
"However, as of now, we know very little about you. Regardless of whether you decide to talk, we will uncover all of the pertinent information. You can aid us or you can stay silent. I advise choosing the latter. That option is the less painful of the two."
Giles stared at the man, who fixed his blank gaze on the far wall opposite him, ignoring the presence of the Watcher. With a cool glance at Spike, Giles walked towards the stairs and silently climbed to the ground floor.
The man's dark eyes flickered to the retreating form of Giles before locking onto Spike. He raised one eyebrow and said, "You going to give me some intimidating speech, too?"
Half hidden in shadow, body casually perched against the concrete wall, arms loosely folded across his chest, a wry smirk twisted Spike's lips. "No. You may not think much of their interrogation tactics, but those are two of the most dangerous people on the planet."
"I thought you said you weren't going to do intimidation."
"It's not intimidation. It's a fact. Simple as that." Spike paused and tilted his head, cerulean eyes piercing the shadowed cellar to examine the man in black. "Watcher was right. Someone gave you information about us. Apparently, it wasn't very good information. Last night, we were unprepared and unarmed. Still took you out though. Now if I were you, I'd be wondering whether the information was purposefully lacking or just piss poor. 'Cause I don't think you're a bloke that takes too kindly to being set up."
* * *Letting the basement door slam behind her, Buffy moved down the hall and entered the dining room. Clem, Anya, and Faith poured over a multitude of open books that covered the surface of the old oak dining room table; Dawn sat hunched over Willow's laptop, eyes concentrated on the text displayed on the screen. Buffy walked next to Dawn and smoothed a hand over her hair. "Found anything yet?"
Dawn nodded. She pointed to a large black leather book next to the white computer. "Is that it? The thing that attacked you guys?"
Buffy leaned over the book and inspected the small drawing of the brown thorn covered demon, a perfect replica of the four demons that had attacked her, Spike, and Faith two nights ago. Her eyes darted down to the caption beneath the picture. "Yeah. What is it? A Larouse demon?"
"Yes," Anya said. She brushed a strand of blonde hair from her eyes and looked at Buffy. "Generally, they're pretty stupid. They rank low on the totem pole of power within the demon world. Usually used for grunt work by others. Their only value is the poison in their thorns. It's deadly when injected into the bloodstream, but they possess limited quantities that need to be harvested over long periods of time." She handed a small dusty tome to Buffy and continued, "Larouse demons are like most other animals. They gather into large packs, organized around a dominant alpha male. All Id, no Ego there. Desire driven, not ruled by intellect."
Lips pursed, Buffy glanced at the tiny print explaining the life and times of Larouse demons. "Any word on whether there's a new gang of these in town?"
Clem shook his head. "I haven't heard anything about any new arrivals. But then again I'm pretty far removed from the demonic arrivals and departures in Sunnydale."
Placing the thin brown book on the table, Buffy ran a hand through her gold locks. She gnawed on the corner of her mouth and glanced at Anya again. "Up for a trip to Willy's? He always knows what's going down, what sort of new scheme is being concocted by the resident nasties. He'll probably know where the closest group of these thorny things are."
"Sure. Want me to question him about the assassins from last night, too?"
Buffy shrugged. "It couldn't hurt. Just try not to do too much damage to his place. A few broken bottles and some barstools should be sufficient in getting the info. I don't want whoever's trying to kill us know we're trying to find them."
Anya pouted. "I can't even rough him up? Lay the heat on him a bit? Play the bad cop?"
Buffy stayed silent, slowly arching one eyebrow at the vengeance demon's enthusiasm for the prospect of beating up Willy.
Sighing, Anya pushed away from the dining room table and stood from her chair. She tiled her head from side to side, working out the kinks that had accumulated from hours of research, and said, "Fine. No roughing. Maybe just an inadvertent push against a wall or something." She flashed everyone a bright smile and disappeared from the dining room.
The sound of the basement door closing reached the room; Giles strolled in from the hall, a puzzled expression upon his face. "Give who an inadvertent push into a wall?"
Buffy pulled a chair from beneath the table and slouched into it. "Willy. Anya went to question him about the demons that attacked us two nights ago." She lifted the large black book and passed it to Giles.
"Ah… Larouse demons. Don't they melt into a puddle of liquid upon their death?"
Faith nodded. "Yeah, nasty sticky shit, too. It's still stuck to the bottom of my boots."
A light knock on the front door sounded through the house. Buffy stood and glanced at Giles before looking at the door, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. She walked towards the windows surrounding the door, peeking through the curtains at the late night visitor, relaxing slightly as her gaze focused on the two forms illuminated by the porch light. Moving to the door, she pulled it opened and said, "Hey. What brings you here?"
Emilia smiled at Buffy and held up a small paper bag. Standing behind the silver haired woman was the red headed man who had aided her in healing Clem. "I thought I would check on everyone and bring some more medicinal herbs for Clem. I can leave these with you if it's a bad time."
Buffy shook her head and moved aside, pulling the door open wide. "No, it's not a bad time. We're researching a bunch of demons that attacked us the night before last."
Emilia moved inside the house and pointed to the man behind her. "This is Charles. He owns the Bronze along with me." Glancing over her shoulder at Charles, she said, "This is Buffy. The young girl last night was her sister, Dawn."
Charles gave a short nod to Buffy as she closed the front door. Maneuvering around the pair, she led them into the dining room. She turned back towards Emilia and opened her mouth, preparing to introduce the violet eyed woman and her male companion to the rest of the gang, but she stopped short at the other woman's expression. Frozen in the threshold between the entryway and the dining room, Emilia's large eyes were wide with shock and fixed upon Giles.
Blinking once, Emilia smiled shyly and stepped into the room, her eyes never leaving Giles' face. "Hello, Rupert. Or is it still Ripper?"
Slightly flustered, a warm smile spread across Giles' face as he said, "No. I left Ripper behind a long time ago. I-it's Rupert. Or Giles now." He glanced from Emilia to Charles and nodded once. "Hello, Charles."
"Ripper."
Turning back to Emilia, Giles said, "When did you arrive in Sunnydale?"
"I first came here about ten years past and bought the Bronze. I had to return to Europe five years ago to take care of family affairs, so I left control of the club to a supervisor. Charles and I just recently returned, about three months ago. The interim supervisor of the club moved away from the Hellmouth, and we couldn't find a suitable replacement." She paused, her lilac gaze traveling over Giles, a small smile curving the corners of her lush lips. "What about you? When did you decide to leave England?"
"Oh, well the Council sent me here six, seven years ago to become Buffy's Watcher." His grey eyes flickered from Emilia to Buffy, who stood next to Dawn. Both sisters watched the pair with blatant curiosity, a tiny amused grin on Buffy's face and a mischievous glint in Dawn's eyes. Giles then glanced at Faith, who leaned back in her chair, arms folded behind her head, and stared at the two, one eyebrow arched in interest.
"It seems we have an attentive audience," Emilia whispered to Giles. She moved towards Clem and handed him the paper bag of herbs as she studied his appearance, her eyes lingering on his chest. "How do you feel today?"
Grinning, Clem peeked inside of the bag and said, "I feel fine. The Taymon root was fantastic. Thank you."
"I brought you some more. I wasn't certain how quickly you would heal." She looked from Clem to Faith. Holding out her hand, she said, "My name is Emilia. I didn't have the chance to introduce myself last night."
Faith shook her outstretched hand. "I'm Faith."
Releasing Faith's hand, her violet eyes lingering upon the young brunette, Emilia murmured, "A Slayer."
Faith stood abruptly, knocking her chair to the floor, and backed away from Emilia, her dark eyes hardening under the intense examination. "What did you say?"
Giles stepped between the two women. "Faith, it's alright. She means you no harm."
Emilia peered at Faith from over Giles' shoulder. "I'm sorry I startled you. I tend to speak without thinking. I was surprised. I thought there was only one Slayer per generation. But there is you… and Buffy."
Buffy raised her hand in the air. "That's my fault. I have a problem with staying dead, so now there're two of us."
The basement door slammed again. A moment later Spike walked into the room, his blue eyes taking in the new arrivals. He nodded to Emilia before moving to the corner of the room and leaning into the shadow.
"Hello, William. How is your shoulder?"
"It's better than it was last night."
"It doesn't hurt? Do you need anything for pain?"
"No."
Giles turned from Faith and stepped towards Emilia, his grey eyes locked on Spike. Face impassive, he said to Emilia, "You know Spike?"
Violet eyes darting between the two men, Emilia slid away from Giles and crossed her arms across her chest. She looked at Buffy and said, "Is there someplace that I would be able to speak to Rupert in private?"
"Um… sure. You could go in the kitchen or upstairs. Either one."
"Thank you." She pivoted on her heel and walked out of the dining room towards the kitchen, looking over her shoulder and arching one silver brow at Giles and his lack of movement. Silently, Giles followed her into the kitchen.
No one spoke in the dining room. Spike stared at the floor, one corner of his mouth quirked in amusement, and Clem intently focused on the book before him, fighting the smile that threatened to spread across his face. Dawn pressed her hand over her mouth, attempting to stifle the giggles welling within her. She glanced at Buffy, whose shoulders were shaking from the effort to control her laughter. The two sisters locked eyes before they exploded in laughter, tears of mirth streaming down their faces.
"Did you see his face when she left the room?" Dawn asked in between gasps for air.
Buffy plopped into her chair, grinning like an idiot. "Yeah. I don't think I've ever seen his eyes bulge that far out of his head before."
Faith shook her head slowly as a smirk curved her lips. "Man, Tweed is whipped. Makes you wonder what sort of history these two have."
* * *Emilia stood before the window above the sink, causing her lustrous silver hair to shimmer in the moonlight shining into the darkened kitchen. She tilted her head to the side and regarded Giles as he pushed through the swinging door between the dining room and kitchen. His aura was clouded with anger, a broiling black snaking through the greens, reds, and blues. "What is your problem?"
"My problem? There is no problem," Giles said as he moved opposite Emilia and folded his arms across his chest.
"Yes, there is a problem. Your problem with Spike. Specifically, your problem with my association with Spike. Are you jealous? You needn't be. He is in love with Buffy."
Voice cold, Giles said, "I know exactly how Spike thinks he feels about Buffy. He is obsessed with her-"
"No. He loves her. You don't do what he did for a woman you're just obsessed with."
"That is exactly my point. His… love makes him a danger to her. He's already attacked her once. He-"
"I'm not talking about danger or attacks or anything that may have happened in the past between them. I'm talking about giving up the very essence that forms you, that composes the essential piece of yourself, for an unknown potential. I'm talking about wanting to be more than what fate has dealt you, more than what you think you're capable of becoming."
"What are you saying?"
Emilia froze. She stared at Giles, astonishment plain across her delicate features. "You don't know, do you?"
"Know what?"
"You couldn't have known. You haven't looked hard enough. It's plain enough to anyone that takes the time to look, to really see. But you're blinded by your love for Buffy. All you see when you look at Spike is a monster who is out to hurt her. You only see the demon."
"He is the demon. He is a vampire. A demon inhabiting a soulless human body."
Emilia drew in a deep breath and stepped towards Giles. Her lavender eyes shone in the shadows, as brilliant as twin amethysts illuminated by the sun. Her voice was a soft murmur that sliced through the air like a sharp knife and smashed through the barriers of preconceptions with the heavy weight of the knowledge possessed within her simple, truthful words. "I see more than the demon. I see the man."
Trapped, rooted to the spot by her fathomless gaze, Giles blinked as he comprehended what Emilia had said, as he processed the ramifications of what she professed to have seen within Spike.
Emilia placed a hand onto his cheek, her smooth fingers cupping the rough surface of his face. "I see his soul. You have nothing to fear from Spike, save for the wrongs that stem from human passions. His soul is not an addition to or a restraint for the demon. It has merged with the demon, altered him in a way I doubt he even realizes. He is not merely a vampire with a soul. He-"
A soft knock on the door shattered the spell that surrounded Giles and Emilia. She withdrew her hand from his cheek and stepped away as the door to the dining room carefully slid open.
Buffy peeked inside of the room, a sheepish, embarrassed grin upon her lips. She took in the overwhelmed look on her Watcher's face and frowned. "Um… sorry to interrupt, but our captive has opted against the stony silent route. He's ready to talk. Thought you'd want to know, Giles."
Giles slowly nodded his head, his eyes clouded with emotion, his voice flat and hollow. "Yes…thank you, Buffy. I'll be right down."
Buffy looked from Giles to Emilia, the frown still pulling at her features, marring the smooth space between her brows, before she slipped back through the open door into the dining room.
"You should get down there," Emilia said as the swinging door swished shut. "Before they start to wonder. And before I open my mouth and spill everyone else's secrets."
Giles nodded again. "We'll talk once this is finished."
"If it's about Spike, you need to speak with him. I've already jeopardized my friendship with him by saying so much. But if it's about… other things, you know where I'll be."
"Yes. I do." Giles pulled his glasses off of his face and pinched the bridge of his nose as he moved towards the door, his shoulders hunched and face lined with the confusion stemming from a multitude of questions with no answers.
* * *The assassin's gaze traveled across the four witnesses to his upcoming revelations. A sultry brunette slouched on the steps, her hard, dark eyes carefully watching his every move. The thin blonde, with green eyes alight with fire, stood before him, the power radiating off her like the blinding rays of the sun. The old man off to his left, a bit worse in appearance, not as calm and self-possessed as before, looking like he might keel over from shock any second. And the vampire, hidden in the shadows off to his right, lazily perched on top of the washing machine, exuding a nonchalance that hid his readiness for action.
The blonde approached him and cocked an eyebrow, annoyance plain on her face. "You wanted to talk. We're here to listen. So talk."
Dragging his gaze across her tiny frame, he calmly looked at the vampire and began to speak. "Met the woman in a club in L.A. She handed me an envelope with your pictures, a videotape, and brief biographies on each and every one of you. She slipped a second envelope to me, full of cash. Half of our payment for killing you. We accepted the deal because it was a hell of a lot of money, but we did our own investigation concerning you and dug up a shit load more than what was in her little dossier. Her so-called information was crap, a bunch of surface info that would have appeased only amateurs. Either she didn't know that she was handing over shitty intel or she didn't care that she was giving us shitty intel. She didn't look stupid, so I'm thinking it was choice number two. And I'm not a man who takes too kindly to being set up."
"Who was the woman?"
The assassin's grey eyes slid over to the blonde, locking with her stony green. "She didn't give us a name, but just as we investigate our targets, we investigate our employers. Her name was Lilah. Lilah Morgan."
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