Title: Rising From The Flames
Sequel to ‘Ashes To Ashes’ and ‘Into The Fires’ <Final part of this trilogy> – Please note that parts of this may seem confusing if you’ve not read the prequels.
Author: Gillian Silverlight
Distribution: My site, those that already have permission to post my fic, all others please ask. (If you post my fic. Please do not rearrange the sentence groupings. It can alter the flow of the story. Thanks.)
Disclaimer: They belong to Joss and the WB, UPN, FX; just about everybody except me. I just play with them. (Except for the ones I created. They do belong to me...kinda)
Summary: Sequel to ‘Ashes To Ashes’; Giles is back in England as the temporary Head of the Council, this time with Willow there. Quentin is a vampire bent on Buffy’s destruction. Spike has a soul. Angel seeks out the Kalderash vampires for an unknown purpose. Giles was told to seek the Diary of Julius. Will it hold the answers they all need, or more confusion and mayhem?
Rating: R
Lyrics: ‘Need To Destroy’ By Verucka/Shy/THC; ‘In The Air’ By Phil Collins; ’Will You Be There’, ‘In Walks The Night’, ‘Cruel Nights’ By Heart; ‘It’s Over, It’s Under’ By Dollshead; ‘Everything’ By Lifehouse; ‘Here With Me’ By Michelle Branch; ‘Dead Ringer For Love’ By Cher and Meatloaf; ‘Here With Me’ By Dido; ‘Calling All Angels’ By Jane Siberry; ‘Behind Blue Eyes’ By Peter Townsend; ‘I’ll Remember You’ By Sophie Zelmani; ‘I Shall Believe’ By Sheryl Crow;
Author’s Note: This was started immediately after DragonCon – The beginning of September. I’ve had my notes for this section laid out since I started ‘Ashes To Ashes’,
So any parallel occurring in this plot and the current Season Seven of BtVS is strictly accidental. Maybe just two minds seeing similar possibilities.
Dedication: As always, to Patti – my wonderful, VERY appreciated beta. (Who is also a trusted friend) My sister, Dyane Windshadow for remaining my sounding board. My significant other, Bob Hobbs, for allowing me to ‘junk up his computer’ to work on this while mine was at the ‘vet’ being fixed. And last but not least, the very nice people at Compaq Computers who got my computer back up and running while I was being frantic and snarly.
‘I step out of my skin
you wouldn't know me now
I won't be your soft one
I won't be encircled
you might become something I need
and you must not
must not get closer
couldn't I go away
with the dust of your words in my
mouth?’
They had taken Giles and Willow to the airport earlier that day and waved until the plane was out of sight.
Angel had taken the Crystal of Luna through the sewers to return it to its Kalderash keepers, as well as talk to them about a concern of his own. The vampire headed back to Los Angeles that evening.
Buffy and Spike sat on the sofa, snuggled together as a movie ran unheeded on the television. They had eyes only for each other as they continued to talk about the recent events that had caused so much change for them.
Wesley and Dawn had taken patrol tonight, alone for the first time.
They’d cleaned out a small nest of vampires at the edge of the cemetery and were finally heading home, tired and looking somewhat bedraggled.
“Well, don’t you two just look all tired?”
Wesley and Dawn turned abruptly, but it was Wesley that stammered in shock.
“F-F-Faith? But you’re dead. We buried you.”
“Oooo! Ten points for the Watcher guy! Right on, dude. That you did. So how’s it going, Wes? You and Dawnie teaming up as Slayer and Watcher?”
“Faith? You’re Faith? But if you’re dead, what are you doing here?”
Dawn struggled with the fact that the woman facing her… was dead, even though she looked so incredibly solid and alive.
“Yep, that’s me. Or was me, or what’s left of me.. It’s kinda confusing sometimes… But it’s me and I’m here with you two now.”
The dark-haired apparition seemed much too cheerful.
“Faith… Why are you here? You are dead after all.”
“Well, it’s like this, Wes. Seems the Powers think I need to do a bit more making up for all the evil bad I did. So they assigned me to you two. I’m supposed to help you guys. You know, offer tips, watch out for you and all.. Me.. watchin’ the Watcher!” The ghost shook her head full of ghostly dark brown curls as she laughed at her own comments.
“You mean.. You’re a ghost and you’re going to be haunting us?”
Dawn wasn’t sure she liked the sound of this at all.
“Not hauntin’ ya, Dawnie. I’ll be along to help you out. Where ever you and Wes are.. well, that’s where I’ll be too. Sounds like it might be a blast.. kinda.”
“Oh!”
Dawn was completely speechless at ‘Faith’s’ announcement.
Wesley slapped his hand to his forehead.
“Oh Lord! A new Slayer and a ghost Slayer… Why me?”
“Don’t worry, Wes. It’ll be bitchin’!”
‘Faith’ grinned at both of her new charges before she faded from sight.
******************************************
‘I can feel it coming in the air tonight, Hold on
I've been waiting for this moment, all my life, Hold on
The recently turned vampire peered through the grime-coated window into the cellar below. The vampire that had turned him only days before, his sire, strutted back and forth across the debris-strewn floor as he waxed eloquent to his minions of his plans to defeat the Watcher’s Council, then destroy the Slayers.
That fact that the older vampire had previously been a Watcher himself, did give him somewhat of an advantage, but the hidden, watching vampire held even more cards.
Quentin Travers had been the Head of the Watcher’s Council for more than twenty years until he’d been turned during his relentless pursuit to destroy the Slayers, finding one he felt was better suited to the Council’s, or in reality, his own agenda.
Leaning back from the window to rest against the wall, Quentin planned how he’d take over this kiss of vampires, once he’d destroyed his sire. The ex-head Watcher agreed with the idea to destroy the Council, but only after he’d seen the fulfillment of his desire to destroy Buffy Summers…and her little sister too!
Quentin settled in a bit more as he waited for dawn to creep closer.
***********************************
‘I've seen your face before my friend
But I don't know if you know who I am
Well, I was there and I saw what you did
I saw it with my own two eyes’
Rupert Giles drew a deep breath of air as he stepped outside of the Heathrow airport.
“D’you smell that? The scent of the fog, the mist? That’s the scent of England. I always forget how much I miss it until I’m back here again.”
“Ah, Giles.. I hate to burst your bubble, but it just smells kinda like smog and airplane smells…. Sorry.”
Willow Rosenberg stood beside the older man, her carry-on clutched tightly in her hand. She’d never been to England before and while she really thought she’d enjoy it here and desperately had to have the magickal training that the Watcher could give her, she missed home. She missed her friends, familiar things, smells and sounds, but most of all she missed Tara. She’d give anything to be able to show all of this to Tara. Except Willow would never show her lover anything ever again.
Tara had been killed by a maniac out to get Buffy. Willow had killed him afterwards when her grief drove her to take on and use tremendous magickal powers that had gotten out of control and almost destroyed all of them.
So now she stood waiting patiently on the damp sidewalk outside of the airport while Giles rhapsodized about smells.
“Yes, alright. I imagine you’re quite tired. I know I am. Let’s get a taxi and get back to my flat so we can get some rest before I have to go to the Council house tomorrow.”
Suiting deed to word, Giles stepped out to flag down a waiting taxi. Piling their baggage in the boot of the car, Giles handed Willow into the back seat, then followed her in, to relax gratefully against the cushions as he gave the address to the driver.
***************************
‘I can go anywhere
I can hold my head up
I can breathe in the air
We're officially dead’
“She what?! Faith? Wesley, Dawn… are you sure?”
Buffy looked incredulous at what the younger Watcher and her ‘now-the-new-Slayer’ sister told her and Spike about their encounter with Faith’s ghost as they had patrolled.
“Quite sure, Buffy. She looked as solid as you do, standing there. Actually, I don’t know why you’d find it difficult to believe, having undergone three deaths yourself. Then too, you’re dating a vampire with a soul. The second one, I might add. And this one is now technically a ‘day-walker’.” Wesley looked at Dawn quickly, “That is what they were calling them in that movie you made me watch with you, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what they called the guy. All those vampire qualities and a lot more! Kinda what Spike is now.”
Dawn assured her Watcher as she glanced at Spike. The blonde vampire stood next to Buffy, his arm draped casually across her shoulders as they listened to Dawn and Wesley tell about the evening’s adventures.
“Nibblet… You know I don’t do the sword thing or have a tan… oomph!”
Spike had been teasing Buffy and Dawn about the same thing since they’d all watched the movie. He’d pointed out that Buffy was the one who used swords. It had gotten him a nasty glare the first few times, but he should have remembered where he was standing this time, as Buffy’s elbow caught him right in the ribs.
“Guys, as much fun as this all is…” Sarcasm edged each word. “I’m tired, Spike’s home finally and I wanna get some sleep. Wes, why don’t you use Willow’s room until we can tackle the mansion and get it cleaned up and ready for you to live in.?”
“An excellent idea, Buffy. Thank you for the invitation.”
“Buffy, if you’re planning sleep, shouldn’t you make Spike stay on the couch?”
Dawn teased her sister as she took a quick step toward the stairs.
“ ‘Night, guys!”
The new Slayer giggled and took the stairs to her room two at a time like a typical teenager.
“I can see two Slayers in this house is going to take some getting used to..”
Buffy sighed as her eyes followed her sister up the stairs and out of sight.
Spike and Wesley shared an amused glance over the top of Buffy’s head.
“I shall follow her example and go up to bed as well. Goodnight and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Wesley left the blonde pair standing in the living room.
“So, shall we get some sleep too, love?”
“Yeah. But don’t count on it anytime soon, Spike. Not after how long you’ve been gone…” Buffy’s words held the promise of excesses to come.
“ Good, ‘cause I’ve missed you too.”
Spike scooped Buffy into his arms, surprising her, then headed up the stairs carefully, as even with vampiric enhanced senses, he still found it difficult to see where he was going while he kissed the small, powerful woman in his arms.
‘I know you had to go away
I died just a little, and I feel it now
You're the one I need’
*******************************
Quentin could taste the coming dawn in the dustiness of the air. The first hints of the rising sun clung to the air, softening it, tinting it with an edge the vampire could almost roll over his tongue.
It was time.
He’d been spry for his age before being turned, so sliding down the face of the wall through the sooty tunnel into the abandoned coal shuttle was no difficulty at all.
He landed knees bent, fingertips touching the gritty floor then waited, listening for a long moment before rising carefully to press his back into the side wall.
Foot after foot, Quentin eased from the dark, cold, boiler room to the doorway for the main room where he’d spied his sire. The door hung ajar, one set of hinges almost out of the dry-rotted wood.
Grasping the edge of the door, he lifted the massive piece of wood, opening it with exaggerated care and slowness to prevent any unexpected creaks. When the door was finally open enough for him to ease through the aperture, Quentin set the wood back down on the floor, trusting the rusty screws to hold the hinges on for a bit longer.
Standing just inside the larger room, the invading vampire stopped to assess his surroundings.
The windows were covered on the outside of the windows with weathered shutters. Small fingers of sunlight wormed through the gaps caused by age, cold, heat and rain. They weren’t as much of a threat as they were a help to see inside the vacant warehouse.
The other vampires had rigged shelters of a sort from boards and blankets over stacks of boxes, like small lean-tos or tents, along the edges of the walls.
Then in their already filthy, ragged clothes, they had lain down to sleep for the day.
Quentin saw his sire off to one side, away from the others. He understood the man’s thinking, though. You stayed separate from those under you. The ‘chief’ didn’t sleep with the help.
Smiling in the darkness, Quentin knew that habit would make what came next, so much easier for him, as he moved slowly, inches at a time until he’d crept his way next to where his sire lay.
Then still moving with exaggerated care, he carefully pulled the lower edge of the blanket from the floor behind his sire.
Quentin reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the stake he’d made while he waited through the night hours, and with one swift strike, plunged it into the back of his sire, hitting the heart.
The vampire’s eyes flew open as he gasped one quick un-needed breath, then crumbled into a layer of dust on the top of the previous resident dust and debris.
To the left of where he now stood, Quentin saw one of the other vampires rise from his makeshift shelter.
“Wh’ot’s goin’ on here?”
“We’ve had a change in leadership. Wake the others so I can explain the new rules to everyone.”
Quentin sat on the pile of boxes while he twirled the stake idly through his fingers.
************************************
‘Do you always trust your first
initial feeling
Special knowledge holds truth
bears believing...’
Giles unlocked the door of his flat with a sigh of relief. Although he loved his Slayer like a daughter, and Dawn as well; over the last few months England had again become home and he was very glad to return home again.
Setting his suitcase just inside the door, Giles hurried to turn on a light for Willow. He could find his way around the flat in the dark, but she’d be hopelessly lost, running into everything. The soft, warm glow of the lamp filled the corner of the room just as the redheaded witch sat her own case on the floor.
“Do have a seat, Willow. I’ll get some linens to make up the bed in the spare room. It’s a sleeper sofa, if that’s alright with you, but it should be fine. I used it when I first got the flat while I waited for the bedroom set I’d ordered to be delivered. It’s quite comfortable.”
He knew he was talking entirely too much, but he was nervous about having her here in his flat… alone. The feel of her lying along his back when he’d innocently shared her bed at Buffy’s kept flashing across his mind. Giles realized it had been much too long since he’d been out on a date or had, as Anya would have put it, an ‘orgasm partner’.
“If you’ll grab the sheets, I’ll come help you pull it out and make it up, if that’s okay. Two of us can do that faster than one and I’m sorry, Giles, but I’m really about out on my feet.”
Willow looked at him very apologetically.
“Certainly. It’s right through there.”
He pointed to a doorway just past the end of the sofa as he turned toward the other door on the right.
Willow picked her case up again to take it into the room he’d indicated, flipping on the overhead light.
It was a small room, done in deep creams, greens and plums. A book-strewn desk sat against one wall. The sofa was next to the desk, with a small end/night table in the corner next to the far wall. There was a brass lamp, the base intermittently covered with dark plum suede, sitting on the table. A parchment colored shade topped the piece.
In the next wall, there was a large window, just down from the table. The dark cream-colored drapes were closed, but hanging next to them on either side, were tiebacks of the same deep plum, but with the addition of gold edging. The sofa itself was a very pretty but masculine plaid of plum and deep forest green on the dark cream background.
All in all, the room was beautiful and not something she’d ever have expected to find in Giles’ home.
Not that he was a slob, or had no sense of style, she thought hurriedly to herself, just that none of them had ever seen it like this before.
Giles came through the doorway, arms loaded with sheets the same dark plum, on top of a cream colored comforter that matched the draperies. He balanced a couple of pillows precariously on the sheets by means of his chin.
“Oooo, let me help you with those, Giles. This is a beautiful room!”
Willow grabbed for the pillows on top, setting them into the chair seat in front of the desk before turning back to start removing cushions from the sofa.
“Thank you, Willow. An old friend of mine is a designer. He talked me into letting him assist in decorating the flat when I was fortunate enough to acquire it.”
“He? A ‘he’ is the designer? Wow! That’s a surprise.”
“Well, Roland and I’ve known each other since we were children. He always was the bully on the block, so to speak.” Giles chuckled.
“So is your friend like, married? Does he have any kids or whatever?”
Willow thought that perhaps the man might even have a daughter or someone close to her age since she knew absolutely no one here except Giles, and she just couldn’t see him wanting to spend all his free time with her. She hoped if she could find a companion to hang out with, he wouldn’t feel obligated to entertain her.
“More the ‘whatever’ I’d imagine. Roland and, ah… Eric, have been together for almost twenty years. They raise those obnoxious little English pugs or some such. Small dogs… look as if they’ve been chasing parked cars.”
Willow giggled at the description of the dogs, but knew her face fell at the news of no one conveniently close to her age.
Giles saw it immediately. “Why do you ask, Willow? Are you alright? Is there a problem?”
“Well, I just thought…. You’re gonna be busy and all and I didn’t want you to feel like you have to spend time with me or anything. If your friend had a daughter or whoever, close to my age, I’d have someone to hang out with to see the sights without having to take you away from things you need to do.”
Giles stopped in the midst of slipping the pillow under his chin into its plum-colored case, laying it to one side before laying a hand on the woman’s shoulder.
“Willow, I know you’re in a strange place and know no one except me. I promise you that you won’t be taking me away from anything and it’s no burden to spend time with you. We’ll be spending a good deal of time together while I teach you. I did have in mind to ask another friend to assist from time to time as she can help you with what could be termed more… ‘women’s mysteries’, but I feel very strongly about teaching you. I shirked the responsibilities previously, however that cannot continue. You have entirely too much power to be left untaught. It’s not safe for you, not to mention those around you.” He held up his hand to stop her protests at his comment.
“I know there were extenuating circumstances before, but the fact remains that we… I, often called upon your use of magick to assist in our fights against various evil beings, yet I did nothing to attempt to teach you or channel your energies on an ethical path.”
Willow tried again to protest at the older man’s comments, but he laid the other hand on her shoulder to quiet her and continued, “No, I’m all too well aware of what can occur with magickal energies if the ethics are not hammered into one’s head constantly. Power is a tremendous temptation and while in this case, you certainly did have extreme provocation; I’m the one who knew best how innocently such things can get out of hand. If you’ll remember, Ethan is the only one of my initial group of experimenters still alive beside myself. We can’t have anything remotely similar happening with you.”
Giles smiled slightly at the redhead as he turned back to pick up the discarded pillow halfway into it’s casing.
“You have more power than any of my paltry group ever imagined. Now we must see it safely channeled and you well taught so that it can never be a problem for you again.”
He tossed the covered pillow at her, a mischievous grin on his tired face.
“Don’t worry, you’ll have more work than you know what to do with and who knows, I may need your assistance here as well.”
“Well.. okay. I get what you’re trying to tell me. You know if I can do anything to help.. of course I will, Giles. That’s what friends are for, right?”
Willow mentally kicked herself for the attitude that had almost reared its ugly head again while she ‘fished’ for a bit of reassurance.
Giles was paying attention and picked up on the need in her voice.
“Quite right, Willow. We are friends and I should hope that we would always be so. But right now, neither one of us will be very pleasant to be around if we don’t get some sleep.”
Impulsively, Willow quickly gave him an awkward hug. Giles hesitated only a fraction of a second before he returned the hug, caught mentally off balance by her actions.
“Goodnight, Willow. If you’re up before me in the morning, the kettle is on the stove. Just add water and boil. The tea is in the green canister that says ‘tea’. I think everything else is also easily found. I’ve left a small light on in the loo, ah.. bathroom, in case you awake during the night.”
He dropped a kiss that was just a brush of his lips, across her hair as he turned to leave the room. He could swear he heard his bed calling him.
“Giles?”
The question stopped him abruptly. He looked back over his shoulder with his own question.
“T-thank you. I… Just, thank you.”
“You’re welcome Willow. G’night.”
Rupert Giles headed for the comfort of his own bed.
****************************************
‘You're my obsession, my addiction, my drug
So let the candle grow into a great fire of love
Will you be there in the morning?
Will you be there when I want you?
Will you be there when I wake up?
I need you to be there in the morning’
“It’s so odd to hear that sound, you know? But it’s nice. I like it.”
Buffy lay in the curve of Spike’s arms, her head resting on his sculpted chest, more relaxed than she’d been in weeks.
“ ‘S’no stranger than to have it beatin’ inside my chest after so many years. Thought someone was followin’ me in that cave, when I heard it. Worried me a bit at first, and all. Thought there might be more tests to struggle through… But then it started to really piss me off, thinkin’ somebody was spyin’ on me like that.”
Spike knew that even as much as they had talked about recent events, various bits and pieces of the last few weeks would continue to ‘pop up’ as they thought of them, at least for a while.
He held Buffy to him, his arm curving behind her back, his hand cupping her shoulder as his thumb traced small circles on her skin. He ‘combed’ the fingers of his other hand through her hair repeatedly. It had grown out while he was gone. He could admit that he’d missed that shining fall of gold when she’d cut it, back when she’d been so ‘brassed' off’ at him. He thought he should let her know that he’d missed her long hair and that he noticed it was growing out again.
“I’m glad you let your hair grow. I missed it when it was short. I know it was easier for you, but I missed the feel of it across my skin when we, ah, were together.”
Buffy raised her head and turned slightly to look at his face. She saw the shadow of bruises play across his jaw, from his fight with Angel.
“That’s very sweet, Spike. I kinda missed my hair too. I knew it bothered you, so when you left…. Well, I let it grow so when you came back…”
Her voice trailed off as the fear crawled inside her. The fear that had gnawed at her the entire time he’d been away. The fear that she’d never see him again, that he’d left her like Angel and Riley… Her mom, her Dad….Giles. So many people she’d loved that had left.
Spike pulled her up his body until her eyes were even with his. He saw the shine of unshed tears glitter in the moonlight.
“Buffy, sometimes one person has to go away. It doesn’t mean they don’t love the other person. It just is. But if I ever go away again, you know there will always be a good reason and because I had no choice. I came back, Buffy. I came back because this is where I want to be.”
He tucked her back into his chest again, holding her close, feeling the shiver she struggled to suppress.
“If I ever have to leave, I’ll always come back. They do too.”
“They?” Buffy’s words were muffled against his skin.
“Your Watcher, Angel… Willow will be back too.” He took in a deep breath as he braced himself for his own words, “ Even tha’ ‘cowboy’ came back. I know you said he was married and all, but he did come back. Let you close things between you two.”
“Yeah, it did. You’re amazing, Spike. Did you know that?”
“Well, yeah. But what for this time? Yywwwwwooooowww! That hurt!”
He reached to rub the spot on his chest where she’d bitten him.
“Cause nobody but you can piss me off so much, Spike. But mostly cause you see things, you pay attention. After you read me and Angel the riot-act about being friends that time, I told him later that for some reason I couldn’t lie to you, no matter what I actually told you. You’ve always know me better than I’ve known myself, Spike. And even when most men would be having a ‘testosterone flare-up’, you see things and tell me.”
“I just know you, Slayer. You’re too much like me for me to not know you. I watched you too long to not know you.”
The thought of what had happened with her and Angel so very recently, rose through his mind at the mention of his grandsire’s name. He growled at her, deep inside of his chest as he pulled her back up to capture her lips, then with one swift movement, rolled her beneath him, kissing her until they both had to breath.
Spike slid his mouth along her skin, down the side of her neck to rest over the scar from Angel’s bite years before when she saved his life with her own blood.
Growling again, Spike pulled the flesh into his mouth, rolling his tongue along the raised edge of the scar as he bit down, careful not to draw blood with sharpened teeth. He’d discovered he had a ‘half-way’ set of fangs now, much like Buffy’s when she was angry.
Buffy writhed against him from underneath, her nails raking down his naked back as she arched her neck into his mouth and her body against him.
He felt the growl in her throat before he heard it, even with enhanced hearing. Moments later, he felt her break the skin of his shoulder with sharp teeth.
He drew breath quickly around the flesh of her neck where he still held it in his mouth, never lessening his hold. The air felt like fire as it hit his lungs, filling him with heat… filling him with… power.
Twisting his body slightly, he filled Buffy with his own body, the rising heat inside him, inside her, desperately seeking a way out as they strained against each other.
Releasing the grip of his mouth on her neck, Spike’s back arched, pushing him further inside her depths.
He felt the heat rising through him, around him. It flowed from her hands, her mouth, her muscles grasping him tightly, clinging to him like living fire, scorching a path across his skin, through his band new soul.
When he believed he would burst into flames any moment, the waves of pleasure rushed across him, caressed things inside of him where no hand could touch, and exploded from his mouth in a cry as his body exploded into her’s as her Slayer muscles clutched him over and over, wringing him dry.
Even before the echo of their mingled cried had died into the moon-silver night, he dipped his head again, feeling the coolness of his fangs slide into the fire of her neck, feeling the ridge of scar tissue give way to him.
When Spike could finally think rational thoughts, he realized he had his fangs buried in Buffy’s neck. He’d not drunk from her, else his stomach would be protesting. But he curled his tongue back and forth across the tiny ooze of blood. Slowly withdrawing from her flesh, he licked at the wounds to heal them faster.
Spike heard a soft mewling sound from Buffy. Only then did he notice she still had a firm grip on his shoulder, that she’d bitten him as he had her. He felt her tongue imitating his, as she tried to pull back. But the sting of her nails in his upper arms told him she was far from finished with him for the night.
This was a different Buffy than the one he’d left when he’d headed to Africa. He fleetingly wondered if she’d been this aggressive with Angel, then the feel of her mouth on much more sensitive parts of his body quickly erased all thought for quite some time.
********************
‘Well my mind takes no prisoners
-pities no one
Spares not even me 'til the harm is done
Here I go again
The night just walked in
In walks the night
Darkness all around me
And I'm dying for the light’
Something dark pursued her through the trees. She ran until she had a cramp in her side, but still it came for her. With a cry, she flung herself headlong toward a meager spark of light she could just glimpse through the thick blackness and the thicker trees.
Willow sat straight up in bed, covered in sweat, shaking, tears streaming down her face.
The small light from the bathroom crept around the edge of her door where she’d left it open. She might be in Giles’ flat in England, but it was still a strange place.
‘I see you in the shadows
I can hear you in the wind
Think of you and I can feel my world closing in
I can't sleep I keep wishing I could touch you
I'd be fine if I could make it through
Through these
Angel tossed once more in his bed, then gave up. The dark-haired vampire sat on the side of the bed and dragged his hand through his hair before standing up to pull a robe on over the pajama bottoms he wore.
The moon cast silver shadows, dark and light, with a much softer edge, across the small balcony connected to his room. He threw the doors open and stepped out into the night air.
In the new apartment complex across and up the street, he noticed the rare light here and there. A few odd souls who kept a different schedule….
But in Los Angeles, the city never slept, it simply had its ‘down times’.
With the plethora of streetlights, the stars were masked most of the time, unless you went out to the beach in Santa Monica.
* Not like in Sunnydale. You can always see the stars there at night. I wonder if Buffy patrolled tonight? Or maybe Wes took Dawn out to patrol and Buffy stayed in…*
Angel shook his head and walked away from the windows. Only madness lay in the direction his thoughts kept trying to take….
He wished he could talk to her.. He wished he could just hold her….
Angel paced across the floor, fingertips going to touch the small ridge where Spike had bitten him only a day or so ago.
The brooding vampire had to admit to himself that holding her was NOT all he wanted to do, unless you considered what they had done behind her house as ‘holding her’.
But like the old saying, ‘if wishes were horses…’.
Right now, Angel devoutly wished he could get the image of Buffy with Spike out of his head.
*****************
‘these dreams in the mist
Darkness on the edge
Shadows where I stand
I search for the time
On a watch with no hands
I want to see you clearly
Come closer than this’
Cordelia stood in the shadows of the balcony next to Angel’s.
She’d stayed at the Hyperion every night that Angel was in Sunnydale, keeping an eye on things. Now that he was back, she was staying to keep an eye on Angel.
Something happened while he was there, but he completely refused to talk to her about it.
* Not that there is anything unusual about THAT! He’s in Sunnydale, she’s in Sunnydale.. Of course something’s going to happen. It’s like.. It’s like trying to put out a fire by pouring gasoline on it, getting those two together with all that pent-up, frustrated ‘I-can’t-have..’ *
Freezing like a deer in the headlights, Cordelia held her breath as she saw Angel step through the doors onto his balcony. She could see the frustration in every line of his body before she ever saw his face. The look he wore only reawakened her fears. She saw him reach up to gingerly touch his neck again, shake his head and go back inside.
He’d been doing that whole thing with his neck ever since he got back too. Well, she might not be able to find out everything, but she could manage to get a look at his neck and see if there were any clues there. Then, if he still refused to talk to her, she’d simply pin Lindsey down and pry the information out of him.
The Cordelia was certain that the lawyer knew what had happened. She could tell by the dark looks Angel threw at Lindsey anytime the subject of Sunnydale, Buffy or Spike came up in conversation.
That’s exactly what she’d do.
Having finally made that decision, Cordelia slipped back inside, got into bed, flipped off the light switch and stared at the patterns of moonlight on the ceiling, no closer to sleep than she had been before.
*******************
‘People stare and some pretend to speak
It takes more than one taboo to build a perfect freak’
Quentin Travers was quite happy with the small underground room he’d found in the warehouse.
Once he’d killed his sire that morning, and then one of the others just to make an example, he was having no more trouble getting the remainder of the minions to do exactly what he told them. They’d all gone exploring and this room was the results.
He’d sent two of them out earlier, right after sunset, with a list of exactly what he wanted. They’d managed to find every bit of it, fortunately for them.
Standing in the middle of the diagram he’d painstakingly drawn, he surveyed the runes once more, making sure they were all correct.
Looking up at the wretch he’d designated as his second-in-command, Travers gave a short nod and stepped into the diagram.
His new lieutenant, Travers thought his name was Morris, walked carefully around the chalked marks, lighting the candles alone the outer circumference. All except one.
Next to the unlit candle, Morris and another vampire laid a third man carefully inside the diagram so as to not disturb any of the marks, then lit the final candle, and stepped back.
Travers carried out his parts of the ritual, then grabbed the bound man by the lapels, hauling him up and to the top of a makeshift table.
Continuing the incantations, he raised the knife, catching the light in a gleaming line along the wickedly sharp edge.
As he felt the energy rise to a crescendo, Travers brought the blade down in one quick stroke across the man’s throat, and instantly felt the energy multiply as it coursed up his arm, only to be directed out to several select targets quite some distance away, Exubertly he watched his ‘willing sacrifice’ crumble into dust.
A slight smile crawled across his face like a wounded spider, making it appear even more evil and macabre in the candle light shining up from below him.
*THERE! Now let’s see what results we get. Their inner selves and dreams ought to be getting a little ‘boost’ right about now. *
Travers smiled again as he walked the diagram and extinguished all the candles except the one power candle that he’d leave to burn down, spreading the energy he’d conjured, to the intended recipients.
All in all, he felt it was a good night’s work.
*****************************************
‘and how can I stand here with you
and not be moved by it’
Giles’ first awareness as he slowly awoke, was of having his arm around a soft warmth.
He opened one eye, fearful that he knew all too well what that warmth was….
He was right.
Willow was lying on her side, back snuggled against his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist.
The older man closed his eyes again.
* This will never do! I know this has to have been completely innocent, but I’m still only human. If I keep finding her in bed with me, or me with her… Sooner or later nature will take a hand in matters and I cannot do that! She’s still but a child. She’s still grieving for Tara. *
A groan, barely audible, escaped his lips, * She’s still a very attractive woman… *
He knew he had to get up and seek the privacy of the bathroom, getting dressed to armour himself against thoughts and feelings that caught him completely off guard.
Willow stirred at the slight sound. She was warm, knew she was safe with Giles’ arm wrapped around her, safe in his room with the wards he’d placed or had placed around the room. She wasn’t sure what had woken her, but she thought it might have been the sound of him waking behind her.
Willow could feel a tenseness in his body that indicated he was awake. She moved, stretching slightly, to let him know she was also awake, so that he didn’t need to worry about disturbing her.
She looked over her shoulder at the man she’s known for six years.
His hair was sleep-rumpled; the pillowcase had left a crease in his cheek.
Willow knew she ought to be more worried about sleeping next to Giles, about waking to find she’d been snuggled against him, about his arm around her and her own comfortable acceptance of it. But for some reason, she was simply content and comfortable.
“ ‘Morning.”
“Ah, yes. Good morning, Willow. Um, not to appear rude, but why are you here? In my bed, here, not here, in my flat or in England here.”
Willow simply looked at him, the laughter that attempted to bubble up, pulling the corner of her mouth slightly up, at what Giles thought was an adorable angle, as she keep the mirth tucked down inside.
A second groan followed that completely shocking thought.
Unable to hold the laughter back and not choke, Willow exploded into giggles, covering her mouth with her hand as she rolled over to her back, away from the shocked expression on Giles’ face.
“Here now! What’s so bloody funny about a reasonable question?”
Struggling to speak through the laughter, Willow tried to explain.
“You should have seen the expression on your face! Like you thought we’d actually done something, Giles…. I came in here last night cause of a really bad nightmare that didn’t seem like a nightmare at the time and asked if I could stay in here cause I was so scared. You invited me in and had me tell you about the dream while you tried really hard to stay awake. You told me you’d had this room warded and that I’d be safe in here, so I took you at your word and went back to sleep. But your expression just now… It was priceless! Then you did that funny explanation thing you do when you say something and you‘re nervous.”
Her eyes twinkled up at him, bright with mischief.
“I did no such thing! The explaining about something when I’m nervous, because I wasn’t nervous at all, just surprised to find you here and I hadn’t remembered about the nightmare since I was half asleep at the time… And I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
Willow just giggled, hands over her mouth as she nodded at him.
“I’m sorry, Willow. I was a bit nervous when I woke up. I wasn’t sure why you were in here with me. I really must have been very much asleep last night when you spoke to me. I should have realized…” He shook his head slightly as he sat up, turning toward the redheaded witch lying on her back in his bed, watching him, a smile still on her face.
“Giles, you know us better than that. Besides… what did you think we did? We still have all our clothes on.”
She shot him a sly, knowing grin that nudged his male pride.
“Why you little minx…”
Without thinking, he reached to tickle her as one would a playful child.
As his fingertips touched her sides through the plain cotton pajama top, Willow snaked one arm around his neck, pulling him toward her, intending to lick the tip of his nose as she’d done with Tara sometimes when they would play like this.
Neither was prepared for what actually happened.
Giles felt her pull his face down toward her own and the remainder of whatever he normally used as good sense, fled completely. Willow had aimed for his nose, but instead, as Giles changed trajectory suddenly, found the tip of her tongue gliding across the curve of his lips.
It lasted only seconds as he pulled her into his arms with a strangled sound, then firmly captured her lips with his, parting his own to grant her entry.
Seconds expanded into minutes as the kiss continued hungrily. Each of them seeking something taken from their lives, each finding what they sought until conscience pulled them apart, breathless, trembling.
Blue-grey eyes searched blue-green ones, both struggling to understand what had happened, how they had gotten so out of control….
“Willow, I…”
“Don’t! Don’t you dare tell me that you’re sorry! Just…… don’t.”
She pushed at his chest, scrambling from under the covers, under him.
Leaning to scoop her robe from the floor, Willow fled from the room.
Moments later, Giles heard the slam of the door to the spare room… Willow’s room.
Raking his hand through his hair, Giles cursed at himself for his actions, for trying to apologize, for making her feel horrible for something he felt had been his fault.
Feeling twice his actual age, Giles got out of the bed, pulling the covers more or less into place before gathering up his clothes for the day and heading into the smaller bath off his room.
He thought a cold shower would be just about right, just about what he deserved.
***************************************
Lindsey was already sitting at the small kitchen table that they used at the hotel, cup of coffee in hand.
Angel had showered and dressed, but it hadn’t improved his mood at all.
Muttering under his non-breath, the irritable vampire grabbed a container of blood from the refrigerator, almost spilling it. That produced more grumbling, but Angel finally managed to pour it into his favorite cup, looked at the cup and then poured the blood into a different one before setting it in the microwave. He held the first cup under the water in the sink to rinse it out; refusing today to drink out of the mug Buffy had gotten him that day.. That day shortly before Doyle had died.
The microwave pinged at him and the brooding vampire took the cup out, sitting down across from Lindsey.
The young man had wisely not said a word, simply watched his new boss almost slam around the kitchen, change cups, grumble and growl at everything and nothing before sitting down heavily into the opposite chair.
“Bad night?”
“Ummm.”
Angel took another sip of his breakfast.
“Something wrong with the other cup?”
“No.”
“Ok…. Let me get this straight. You don’t want anyone else knowing what happened in Sunnydale, so instead, you slam around the kitchen, change cups cause nothing’s wrong, grunt in monosyllables, and wear a look like a week’s worth of bad weather on the way. So what exactly do you think might be wrong with this picture, Angel?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it, Lindsey.”
“Fine by me. I KNOW what happened. Want me to guess about the cup? Buffy gave it to you. I’d also say you didn’t sleep well, and kept thinking about where she was, or more likely, who she was with and what they were probably doing.”
“Fine, so you’re a good attorney. You’re observant.”
Angel turned slightly in his chair, away from the table.
“Look dude, I don’t know you even a third as well as that woman upstairs. You’re not fooling me for an instant and although she might not know exactly what happened, she’s been hinting and asking questions already. If you think you’re gonna convince her this way, that you’re okay; the only person you’re fooling is yourself. I just thought you ought to know.”
Lindsey got up and walked to the counter, pouring himself another cup of coffee.
He’d added creamer and sugar and was about to sit back in his chair again, when Cordelia entered the kitchen, her eyes going straight to Angel.
“ Morning, Lindsey… Angel.”
She paused behind Angel for a moment, reaching for his shirt collar as she told him,
“Collar’s crooked.”
She straightened it, seeing the bite mark on the vampire’s neck, then walked over to the counter and the coffee pot. With a quick glance, Cordelia took in the empty butcher’s container in the sink, something he never did, and his favorite cup that Buffy had given him, sitting on the drainer next to the sink.
Taking her own cup back to the table, Cordelia sat down, glancing first at Lindsey, then looking directly at Angel.
“So are you planning to tell me what happened in Sunnydale? And before you say nothing, I know better. You always drink out of that mug Buffy gave you when you.. When she was here that time. You never leave an empty blood container in the sink, although I’ve seen enough of them and bought enough of them for you.”
Cordelia took a sip of her coffee, savoring that first taste in spite of the turmoil around her.
“Then too, I’m sure there is a good explanation why you have a vampire bite on the back of your neck. Don’t tell me you did it shaving either. So give.. or I’m calling Buffy to ask her.”
“Cordelia, I don’t want to talk about it. Buffy won’t talk about it either.”
“Ok.. I’m sure Willow or somebody will tell me.”
“Willow went to England with Giles. He got called back because of that wacko head guy getting turned. The one responsible for Faith being killed?”
“Giles? OH! You mean Traveler, or whatever his name is a…. Yeah, I do remember you telling me that, Lin. But Wesley’s there too. I can probably get the information from him, or maybe Spike…”
Angel made a sound somewhere between a self-depreciating laugh and a snort as he abruptly stood, almost knocking his chair over on the floor. Cordelia couldn’t help but remember a very similar action from Wesley when he was so hurt and angry with himself. She looked up at Angel’s darkly scowling face.
“So what did you do? You still have your soul….”
She saw the flicker of emotion cross his face before it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
“Oh my God! You did! You and she.. How? And how did you get bit? Buffy’s not a vampire, is she?”
“No, she’s not a vampire.”
Angel scowled even more at her speculations that were all too close to what had actually happened.
Lindsey just sat back, watching them both, a slight ‘cat-that-ate-the-canary’ smile on his features. Cordelia caught the look.
“No, Buffy’s not a vamp. But you didn’t deny that you were with her… so I’m gonna guess Spike came back and the two of you had one of those ‘dominance’ fights you’ve told me about, and he won. So he bit you.”
Angel never said a word, but the brunette saw the haunted look fill his eyes like a great beast rising from the depths of the deep brown orbs.
“So you and Buffy were together but you didn’t lose your soul. Spike came back and found out. He didn’t catch you two, or you’d have a lot more marks than just a single bite, I’m guessing. The two of you had a fight, then, after. And now, you’re being all tormented having had a ‘taste’ of forbidden fruit again….”
Angel and Lindsey both almost choked on their drinks, but for very different reasons at her choice of words.
Cordelia slammed her hands onto the table and stood up, grabbing her cup of coffee again.
“God, Angel! Of all the stupid…”
Her words turned into a mutter as she stormed past him, heading toward the front office.
“I hate to say ‘I-told-you-so’, but I did.”
Lindsey was secretly amused at Angel’s chagrin and the rather adroit way Cordy had figured out most of the entire scenario.
“Fine, you told me. Now she’s pissed at me. I still have my soul, so it’s not like I’m gonna start killing everybody. So why is she angry?”
Angel stared at the door.
Lindsey simply got to his feet, holding his half-filled coffee cup, as he too, headed for the front office. Now that Cordelia was in there, he knew she’d have work for him to do. He clapped Angel on the shoulder as he paused before walking past the vampire.
“Angel, you’ve been around for what.. Two hundred and fifty years as a vampire and how many before that as a man? And you ask ME the answer to THAT question?”
Lindsey just chuckled as he headed through the door, up the short hallway, then into the main office.
The laughter died abruptly as he opened the door to find Cordelia sitting at the desk, a pile of papers unseen in front of her as tears streaked her face and plopped softly on the forms.
Lindsey had only been teasing Angel, or so he thought.
It seemed he had actually been right. Cordelia was in love with Angel.
*****************************************
‘Listen, you got the kind of eyes that do more than see
You got a lotta nerve to come on to me
You got the kind of lips that do more than drink
You got the kind of mind that does less than think’
Spike nuzzled Buffy’s neck as he woke with her in his arms, her own arms and legs wrapped around his body as though she’d climbed inside of him.
She woke with her usual sleepy grumble. He’d missed that terribly while he was away from her.
“D’anybody tell you, y’too cheerful inna morning’?”
“Yeah. You, all the time.”
He nuzzled her shoulder; laying butterfly kisses across her skin.
Buffy shrugged slightly moving his lips away from her skin, “Tickles..”
“You didn’t complain last night, love.”
“Wasn’t asleep last night.”
“I remember. But you were the one for the fifth go-round at almost dawn. Speaking of which, lil’ sis headed down the stairs a few minutes ago, so you know she’ll be back up soon to wake us if we’re not up.”
“Aaagggghhhhh!” Buffy struggled away from Spike, shoving covers but only managing to tangle them around her legs. “The only excuse for morning is to keep night from running into afternoon! Get OFF!” She gave a hard push at the offending mound of cover, finally extracting her legs and kicking the comforter on the floor.
Having succeeded in ‘killing’ the ‘vicious’ covers, Buffy staggered out of bed, rubbing her eyes; and yawning, as she headed for the bathroom.
Spike stayed right where he was, enjoying the sight of her nude body.
When Buffy disappeared into the bathroom, Spike crawled out of bed slowly with a soreness he felt in every muscle. Oh, he’d enjoyed the previous night, but he might have to walk carefully for the next few hours… or day. Feeling a sharp twinge in his shoulder, he reached up to gingerly explore the mark with a fingertip.
The bite was deep and sore. He knew his shirt would be quite uncomfortable over it, but there was no getting around it.
The blonde vampire smiled to himself as he thought about their activities from the previous night that had led to him wearing the mark….
“SPIKE!”
He winced slightly at the metal-bending tone in that call. It promised probable damage to him if he didn’t get into the bathroom fairly quickly.
Spike sighed slightly, thinking that if she was looking at her own neck, it wasn’t ‘probable’ damage, but definite. It made him almost want to cover his nose with his hand before going through that door, but he knew how ridiculous he’d look.
“You shrieked, Buffy?”
He’d walked behind her, looking at her in the mirror as he caught her eyes with his own in the glass.
They’d already discovered he had a reflection now. Probably courtesy of his shiny new soul and being almost human again.
“Look at my neck!”
“Love, I know quite well what your neck looks like.”
“I MEAN where you bit me!”
“Not to quibble, Buffy, but have you seen what you did to my shoulder? Bloody well tried to take a chunk out of it, you did.”
“I don’t mean THAT! I mean THIS!”
Still looking at him in the mirror, she pointed to the mark over Angel’s scar.
“Yeah, that bite.”
“Stop being deliberately dense, Spike. You bit over the scar on my neck. You know damned good and well I’ll have another scar on top of that scar now.”
Spike just looked at her in the mirror, seeing the real reason for her anger, seeing what he’d been afraid he’d see, seeing the reason he’d done exactly what he did.
“You’re brassed off ‘cause I marked over the scar Angel made. It’s not the bite that’s the problem, or even havin’ another scar on your body or your neck. It’s cause of it bein’ over Angel’s scar. Don’t even think about lyin’ ‘bout it.”
He took her head in both hands and turned her just a fraction back toward the mirror so she had to look at her own reflection. “Can’t lie about being angry with me anymore. You give yourself away, Slayer. I’ll use the downstairs bathroom.”
Angrily, Spike turned away from her, stalking back through the bedroom, catching up a robe and sliding it on before he reached the door.
Buffy heard the door slam as she stared at her own image in the glass.
Reaching up to carefully touch her face, she thought it looked like it had thinned out, the bone structure more prominent. Opening her mouth slightly, she saw the sharpened teeth. Dropping her hand back down to her side, she stared at her reflection while Spike’s words echoing in her head, his anger lingering in the room like an unpleasant odor.
With elaborate care, deliberately slowed movements, Buffy turned away from the glass and opened the faucets. She spent several minutes just adjusting the water temperature before she got in the tub, flipping the lever to direct the steaming water to the showerhead.
Stepping into the stinging spray, she closed her eyes, running her hands over her face, searching….
The softness was back, the skin no longer taunt over her cheekbones…
Turning her back to the wall, she let the water pound across her head, neck and shoulders as she thought about what Spike had said to her.
Long minutes later, she finally admitted to herself that he’d been right. She’d been afraid the bite over the previous scar had some specific meaning, would do something to that small, tangible bit of Angel she always had with her, even if it was only a scar.
Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she knew those fears were right, that Spike’s bite over Angel’s would affect the tenitive connect between she and Angel. She also knew that to Angel and Spike, it was as if she was divorced from Angel, had married Spike, but had insisted on wearing Angel’s ring. The scar was something that probably brought the specter of his sire into their bed every time Spike saw it.
Buffy had to admit that she’d not have tolerated a constant reminder of Druscilla from Spike.
Deciding he owed her an explanation about what he’d actually done with his bite; she knew she also owed him an apology for being a shrew that morning, in addition to not having understood how the mark on her neck affected both of them until now.
Holding that thought firmly in her mind and heart, she hurried through the remainder of her morning ritual, dressed and headed down the stairs to find her lover.
***********************************