Chapter 30
Part A

The serenity of the village belied the tenseness of the young woman hidden within the shadows of the alleyway. Buffy knew she risked everything by being here, but she couldn’t resist. So close and yet so far from Bitty. She pulled the collar of her windbreaker up, trying to keep the salty breeze at bay. She was being selfish, she knew. Spike wasn’t able to come with her, but that hadn’t stopped her from running out of the room to begin her solitary study of the three-story home. Which room was hers? Did it face the morning sun? Did the nurse sing to her? Read to her? After tomorrow it wouldn’t matter because she’d be safe with them?

Mommy’s coming, Bitty.

Her mind was running like a broken record, repeating that phrase over and over in her head. She hoped it would reach Bitty, but it also served to reassure her, to keep her resolve strong.

Hope springs eternal.

Hallie’s appearance in their living room a week ago had set them on this course. But now that they were so close to seeing Bitty, Buffy was scared. She kept expecting for Travers or one of his lackeys to pop up out of no where, to discover them, and spirit Bitty away. Only Spike’s stubborn refusal to believe anything other than their complete and total success kept Buffy sane.

Petershead, the Blue City, and she could well understand why. The sea was the color of Spike and Bitty’s eyes. It was sorta ironic that Travers chose to hide Bitty in this city. But they were here now, and nothing and no one would stop them from reaching Bitty. It had been too long already. They had missed a week in their child’s life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days earlier in Sunnydale…

“I know where your daughter is.”

Buffy heard the words, felt her gut back flip at the news, but she still couldn’t believe it. Her body was a jumble of differing emotions. She couldn’t move, couldn’t seem to function normally. All around her there were cries and shocked gasps and hugging and slapping of hands. Yet, she stood frozen, almost as if she was on the edge of a cliff, and one more step would mean an endless fall and painful stop. 34 hours. 23 minutes. That was how long Bitty had been missing. 34 hours. 24 minutes of not knowing where in the world her daughter was, if she was alright, being fed, being held.

“Oh, my god!“ Dawn screamed, jumping around in normal teenage exuberance.

Buffy felt arms wrapping around her, squeezing her tightly.

“Buffy…” Spike’s concern reached her ears through the din of excitement. He understood. She realized looking into his face. He understood the overwhelming, paralyzing joy she felt. He pulled her flush to his body, and the dam broke. Tears and words spilled forth from her mouth onto his mouth, onto his chest, onto his neck in a cacophony of emotions.

“She’s alive.” Spike whispered against her tear-soaked lips. “She’s alive.” He repeated, voicing the unspoken fear they’d all held. The fear Travers had condemned their baby to an early death.

Buffy reached up, her hands settling on his cheeks. “I love you.” She admitted unexpectedly.

“I know.”

“When do we leave for Scotland?” Dawn asked, barely managing to stand still in her excitement.

“You can’t.” Hallie retorted, her words like a blast of frigid water on their souls.

Heads swiveled to pin Hallie with an accusing glare.

“What do you mean can’t?” Spike growled. He had to restrain Buffy as she moved to confront the demon.

Hallie studied her nails, apparently unconcerned with Buffy’s actions. “This man, Travers, has used some elaborate spells to not only keep intruders out, but to keep her in.”

“If that’s so, then how were you able to transport in, Hallie?” Anya asked suspiciously. While grateful for Hallie’s assistance, Anya knew there was more that Hallie wasn’t revealing.

Hallie sat primly on the couch, crossing her legs at the ankles. The gesture caught Spike’s attention, and he was reminded of her use of his Christian name during Buffy’s birthday party. He’d dismissed the possibility that she could be Cecily back then, but now… he wasn’t so sure.

“You have an extraordinary daughter.” Hallie directed her comment at Spike, Buffy noted. Her brow arched, but she held her tongue. “She summoned me.”

“She summoned you? How? Last time I checked babies didn’t know how to speak coming out the womb.”

Buffy’s sarcastic remark raised Hallie’s hackles. She huffed. She didn’t need this. But the memory of the baby’s cries made her bite down the retort, and answer Buffy’s question.

“Not really sure to be honest with you.” Hallie stated. “I knew there was a child in danger. The signals she was putting off were very strong, and only grew stronger in the last two days.”

“Is she safe?” Buffy asked tentatively, scared of the answer. “Are they taking good care of her?”

Hallie’s stance softened. For the first time that afternoon, she looked at Buffy when she spoke. “She misses the both of you very much. The nurse takes good care of her, but she can’t replace you.”

Buffy felt Spike’s lips pressed to her head, and she leaned into his touch, savoring the tiny crumb of information they’d been given.

“Thank you.” Spike told Hallie. She beamed, and felt her heart flutter.

“You’re welcome William. Anything to help you.”

Buffy’s head snapped up, knocking Spike’s chin. “How do you know his name?” Stupid, jealous, totally inappropriate for the situation, but she didn’t like the goo-goo eye look Hallie had.

Willow and Dawn shared a wide-eyed look. Tara shuffled her feet. Xander stood in the corner, grateful the heat was on someone else. Anya looked extremely interested, and wondered how long Hallie would last against an extremely pissed Buffy. Giles, being the only real adult of the lot, stepped between the two women and cleared his throat.

“Why don’t we go into the dining room? Halfrek, could you give us a description or sense of the type of magick Travers is using to shield Bitty?” He jerked his head towards the other room, when it looked as if she would protest. Anya took things into her hands, dragging a frowning Hallie into the dining room. Tara and Willow followed, tugging a reluctant Xander in their wake.

“What’s up with you and Hallie, Spike?” Dawn was annoyed for Buffy. It was in the Sisters’ Handbook to share in your sister’s irritation with another woman.

Spike glared at Dawn, wishing she’d kept her mouth closed on that subject. “Nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing to me.” Buffy crossed her arms and cocked her hip. “It looked a lot like flirting, and I’m thinking she needs a beat down for that alone.”

Spike grinned. “You can’t hurt her, Buffy. She brought us news about Bitty. She did good this time.”

Buffy sucked her teeth. “I suppose you’re right. She’s been redeemed.”

Suddenly, Buffy’s eyes filled with tears. “She’s alive, Spike. Our baby is alive. We’re going to bring her home.”

Spike pulled Buffy into his arms, kissing her repeatedly on the temple. Spike opened his other arm to Dawn. She lunged into it, squeezing him as tightly as she could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Halfrek thought her ears would drop off from all the questions being thrown at her.

“Are all humans this pigheaded?” She pointedly ignored the rest of the people surrounding her, directing her question to Anya. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you fifteen times. I don’t know what spell Travers used. If I knew, I’d tell you. I’m trying to protect Catherine, not see her miserable.”

“Catherine? He named our daughter?” Buffy asked, incredulous. She felt ill.

“Yes, he named her.”

“That’s not her name.” Buffy told them. “That’s not her name.” Spike had come up behind Buffy, and had his hand on her shoulder, kneading her muscles softly. It wasn’t important, she knew that, but Bitty was theirs. It was their right to name her. It was just one more insult, one more thing to fuel her hatred of Travers. One more thing to pay him back for.

“I’m sorry. Go on.” Buffy took a deep breath, crossing her arms over her chest. “Maybe, we’re looking at this from the wrong angle. Why was Hallie allowed through this barrier?”

“It had to be Bitty.” Spike answered. “Maybe part of her powers?” A small part of him hoped it wasn’t. He didn’t want some hell god coming after Bitty.

“That would be cool.” Dawn piped in, excitedly. At Buffy’s concerned look, Dawn was immediately contrite. “Sorry.”

Buffy blinked rapidly, shaking her head. “No, don’t be. That would explain a lot. It would explain how Spike was able to come into that house where I was held.” Buffy shuddered noticeably. Spike wrapped his arms around her tiny frame, and held on tightly. He buried his lips in her hair as his mind revisited that house.

“I have a theory.” Willow’s voice squeaked as she spoke up. She coughed to clear it. “The prophecy said the Key would unlock Bitty’s powers. There is nothing to say it didn’t give her one too.” Willow shuttered as she became less sure of what she was saying.

“That’s good, Willow.” Giles said, picking up the photocopies of Jayme’s journal. “There is nothing to say this is permanent, Buffy. I know this is a concern after Glory.” Spike’s growl reverberated across the room, halting all conversation.

Giles laid the papers down carefully. He understood how Spike felt. He associated Glory with death, not only Buffy’s, but Joyce’s as well. He couldn’t imagine going through that again with a baby as young as Bitty. “However, it does appear it’s a possibility that we can use to our advantage.”

“We would worry about her if she was played soccer, Giles. But you’re right, we can use this to our advantage.”

“So, what now? Are we going to sit here and twiddle our thumbs or can I go get my little girl?” Spike demanded.

“Umm…I hate to mention this, but what if Travers is still having us watched?” Tara looked from face to face. “We would need to be sneaky about getting you to Scotland.”

“We can do sneaky.” Dawn announced. She had a gleam to her eye which alternately intrigued and scared the hell out of them. “If you guys went to Petershead, Travers’ people would pick you out of a crowd in a heartbeat. Captain Peroxide here can’t hide. He’s day glow, and you,” she said, pointing to Buffy, “are as advertised. They would know you were there the minute you stepped off the plane… or bus.. or whatever you arrive on in Scotland.”

“And your point?” Spike inquired. He was still trying to get past the Captain Peroxide and day glow remarks.

“My point, oh, dear best friend and brother, is simple. You are going to have to go back to the way you were before you discovered the wonders of hair dye. You’re going to have to go back to the beginning.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voices. Murmurs. Noise. Sound.

To Reginald’s slowly awakening body, everything was too harsh, too hard, too loud. His eyes flew open, fear griping him. His last waking memory was Travers’ arm around his head, and the glint of the knife. He struggled to focus his eyes, the machines and lights around him blurred beyond sight recognition.

“Well, look who’s finally awake?” A male voice rumbled.

The fear returned, and Reginald began to thrash, pulling at the restraints holding him.

“It’s okay, son. It’s okay. You’re safe. No one here is going to hurt you.” The voice cajoled. Reginald stared unblinkingly at the man, adrenaline clearing his vision, and revealing the man’s identity.

“Hi. I’m Arik. I’m your nurse tonight. Do you understand English?” Kind gray eyes peered down at Reginald. The man seemed genuinely concerned for him, and that was reason enough for Reginald to relax.

Reginald nodded. He lifted his hands or attempted to.

Arik chuckled understandingly. “We had to restrain you so you wouldn’t pull at the bandages.” Arik quickly and efficiently had the soft cuffs off and lying uselessly from the bed in minutes.

“Better?”

Reginald nodded and pointed his fingers at his throat. A shadow went across Arik’s face before the professional mask he wore was put back in place.

“Can’t talk right now. The doctors will explain everything to you. For now, we have this.” Arik pulled the eraser board out of the drawer and handed it to Reginald.

Reginald wrote a name, and asked for Arik to call the person for him. Rupert Giles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a fruitless trip through the Sunnydale phone company before a nurse passing through the unit recognized the name Rupert Giles. She’d taken care of his girlfriend and his daughter within a 48 hour period.

“Don’t you remember, Arik? They were both attacked by that Warren Mears fellow.”

Of course, he remembered the story, but hadn’t put two and two together.

A quick call down to Admissions, a trying and tiring adventure through red tape, and Arik finally had two numbers to try for Rupert Giles. If push came to shove, he’d call the police and ask them. The thought occurred to him that maybe, Warren Mears was also responsible for his patient’s condition. He thought as he dialed the first number on his list. He’d have to mention that to the detective when he came by later.

Giles jumped as the phone goosed him. The giggle that came from his right answered the question of where the buzz had come from. He’d forgotten Anya had switched the infernal contraption to vibrate, hoping it would remind him of her whenever she wasn’t around.

“Rupert Giles.”

“Err.. yes, Mr. Giles, my name is Arik Sundersten. I am a nurse at Sunnyland General.”

Oh, what now! Giles thought, snatching his glasses off his nose. Not wanting to alarm any of them, Giles excused himself on the pretense of privacy.

“Yes, Mr. Sundersten?” Giles said exasperated.

“There is a patient here who is asking for you. He wouldn’t tell us his name. He insisted we call you first.”

Giles scratched his head, confused to say the least. “Any reason why?”

“No, sir. He’s just awakened from a coma. He may be confused, but the doctors think your presence could calm him.”

Giles looked into the dining room, watching Buffy carefully. Her face was drawn tight. He could see exhaustion all over her. This would be as good a time as any to leave. Hallie could stay with Anya until he returned.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Giles told the nurse. “ICU. Yes, I’ll be there within the hour.”

Buffy rubbed the back of her neck, leaning heavily against Spike. Exhaustion was catching up with her, but she couldn’t sleep, not with so many details unsettled. She jumped when Giles tapped her shoulder.

“You should get some rest.” He said, his fingers squeezing her shoulder. “You’re just out of the hospital.”

“I can’t rest. There’s too much that needs to be done.” She bit her lip. She was so tired. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for days, but sleeping wouldn’t come easily to her this night. Sleeping across the hallway from the empty nursery would be the hardest thing she’d ever tried to accomplish. She wasn’t sure if she was up for it.

“There’s nothing we can do tonight, Buffy.” Giles said, staring intently into her face. “First thing in the morning, we’ll get started. I promise you.”

Giles looked to Spike for help. Spike nodded his agreement.

“First thing tomorrow.” She repeated, wanting him to understand she’d be up and waiting.

“I promise.” Giles vowed, pulling her into his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Giles waited impatiently for Arik Sundersten. He’d discussed the situation with Anya, who was equally baffled. She’d wanted to escort him, disliking everything, from the mysterious call to the insistence he come to the hospital.

He had to remind her that he had nothing to offer Travers. Well, he had something he wanted to give Travers, a hot poker up the arse.

“Mr. Giles?”

Giles shook himself free of the delightful fantasy of torturing Quentin. “Yes, I’m Rupert Giles.”

“Arik Sundersten, sorry to pull you away from your family, but Reginald is insistent on seeing you.”

Giles stumbled over his feet, grabbing hold of the door frame to steady himself.

“Did you say Reginald? Is his last name Smythe-Bailey?”

Arik watched the other man carefully, noting the pallor to his skin. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes. Is the man in the room Reginald Smythe-Bailey?”

“Yes, it is.”

Giles ripped his glasses off his nose, rubbing his temple furiously. “Has he spoken to anyone else?”

Arik paused, checking Rupert over for signs of shock. Seeing none, he led him through the double doors and into the intensive care unit.

“No. The only person we’ve contacted is you.”

Giles’ mind was racing. Reginald was alive. How was he alive? Travers assumed he was dead. Olivia believed he was dead. He wasn’t dead. What could he tell them about Petershead and Bitty?

Giles stared at the young man, whose eyes had popped open upon hearing their footsteps.

“Reginald. It’s Rupert Giles.”

Reginald nodded, opening his mouth to speak, before remembering his bandages. He flopped back against the pillows grimacing and tearing up.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Giles repeated, patting Reginald’s shoulder.

Arik handed the writing board to Reginald.

Am I too late? He asked. Did Travers take the baby?

Giles read the message. He nodded his head. “Yes, Travers took the baby. He has her hidden in Petersdale, Scotland. Is that correct?”

Yes.

“Is there anything you can tell me about the spells conjured to shield the house and the baby from our magick?

Travers used a coven. I’m not sure who they are.

“Do you know where the coven is located?” Giles’ mind was working overtime, trying to remember all the covens he personally knew of, and who within might be helpful to them.

Reginald shook his head.

I’m sorry.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

Reginald nodded his head slowly. Giles felt ill, wondering just what Reginald was sorry for. He sat down slowly in the chair beside the bed, and prepared to hear Reginald’s confession.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You did a good thing, Hallie.”

“I did it for the baby.” Hallie set two cups of tea down on the coffee table and took a seat next to Anya.

“It was still a good thing.” Anya reiterated, patting Hallie’s hand. “You just don’t know what they’ve been through trying to bring the baby to term.”

“And your ex goes out, gets drunk, and screws the whole thing up.” Hallie had been holding that one in since she saw Xander in the Summers’ living room.

Anya sipped her tea, the desire to defend Xander not as swift to come to her lips. “He knows he was wrong. He knows this has probably killed his friendship with Buffy. But I doubt they’ll shut him out completely.”

Hallie’s eyes widened. She pressed her hand delicately to her heart, emphasizing her shock. “Oh, please don’t tell me they’ll welcome him back with open arms.”

Anya shook her head. “No, they won’t welcome him back immediately, but they’ve already forgiven him. That’s what they do. They forgive each other.”

“Must be a human thing.” Hallie responded, leaning back into the pillows.

“It is. They care. They hurt each other and they forgive. It’s a cycle.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy slipped quietly from the bed, padding noiselessly across the hall to the nursery. Had it only been a few days since she’d been in this room, saying goodbye to Spike? Her feet carried her to the crib. She stood beside it, gazing at the mobile. The butterflies and bees made her smile, in spite of her sadness. She knew it would have the same effect on their daughter. It was so incredibly hard to remain angry in this place.

“Soon, my sweet girl, you’ll be sleeping here with Mommy and Daddy and Auntie Dawn. Grandpa Giles will try and resist those beautiful baby blues, but he won’t be able to. Mommy can’t resist Daddy’s, so I know Grandpa will be putty in your hands.”

They’d all be putty in Bitty’s hands for the next twenty or so years. At least, until the fear was gone.

“You’re not going to allow it to get to you, Summers. You know where she is. That’s more than you knew twenty-four hours ago.”

Buffy walked over to the window, pulling back the curtains to stare out into the night. She thought she’d done really well tonight. She’d felt Xander’s gaze on her more than once. She knew she’d have to talk to him at some point. He was helping them, after all.

“You should be in bed, luv.” Spike voice drifted over and warmed her from the inside out.

“Couldn’t sleep. Had too much on my mind.” She said, turning from the window. “Hold me.”

“Need a bit of cold comfort?” Spike enveloped her in his arms, holding her snugly to his chest. “Is this better?”

“Always.” Buffy felt tears prickling at her eyelids, but wouldn’t allow them to fall. She had to be strong from here on out.

They stood silent in the room, holding each other, garnering strength from their love and the love they held for their daughter.

“You know what I find totally ironic, Pet?” Spike leaned back, so he could see her face. “I got that stupid chip out so I could protect you and the girls.”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “Please don’t start with the recriminations, Spike.”

”I’m not Ms. Jumping to Conclusions.” He sighed. Just because Buffy was now a mother, didn’t mean she wasn’t the same impatient person she’d always been. “What I was going to say was it’s ironic I don’t have anything keeping me from snapping Travers’ neck, but I can’t do it.”

He blew out his breath, leaning his head back. He was afraid he’d see disappointment in Buffy’s eyes. He was disappointed in himself. The chip wasn’t a soul. It wasn’t his moral compass, but there seemed to be something innately wrong with killing in Bitty’s name.

Buffy’s hand caressed his cheek, drawing his head down. Hazel eyes stared into his, and what was lacking there, surprised him. There was no accusation, no recrimination, no anger, only love and acceptance.

“I understand.” She said, standing on the tips of her toes to kiss him. “We were blessed with this wonderful little creature because we could love each other.” She kissed him again because she could and she wanted to.

“She’s ours, Spike. Our slice of heaven. Travers? Warren? They aren’t worth a million Bittys. She’s the best part of us. We couldn’t take revenge in her name, and be worthy of her gift. They’ll get theirs. Karma is a bitch, you know?”

“That she is. You know you don’t have to be strong around me. If you want to break down and cry, I’m at crying level.”

Buffy giggled. “No more tears. Not until we have her back, then I promise a lot of crying, hysterical laughing, and the like.”

Spike laughed. “Just one more thing we have in common, Luv. I’ll be bawling right beside you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Edgar held the framed photo in his hands, reverently brushing his fingertips over the picture of the smiling ten-year old. He smiled, remembering the summer the photo had been taken. Reginald had spent the summer with his grandparents in Bath, enjoying the wildflowers and country air. He’d ridden horses and forgotten for a short time that his mother was dead.

”I’m sorry I wasn’t a better father, son.”

A discreet cough announced the presence of his guest.

“How were you able to hide your existence from Travers?” The question caught Olivia by surprise. She didn’t think Edgar was aware of her arrival. He’d seemed so engrossed in his perusal of Reginald’s photograph.

“How did Reginald know about you? I’ve certainly never heard of any organized protest to Travers.”

Olivia sighed. “Wherever there is tyranny, there is resistance. People talked and we organized.”

“It couldn’t have been that simple.” Edgar responded, turning around to face her. “I’ve been a Watcher all my life. There have been those before Travers who allowed the power to corrupt them, to corrupt the Council itself, but they’ve always remained in control.”

Olivia shrugged. “There wasn’t one incident or edict issued by Quentin that caused all of this. It was, for me, more a case of getting to know Buffy Summers. The more I learned about her, the more I respected the young woman she was. More than just a tool against evil, she’s a girl with hopes and dreams. She’s a woman who deserves a life as much as any of us do.”

Edgar glanced at the happy, smiling face of his then ten-year old son. Reginald had dreams too. He’d only followed in Edgar’s footsteps because that was all Edgar had allowed him. What had Reginald wanted from his life?

“You shouldn’t blame yourself.” Olivia offered. “Doing what he did, going against Travers, it was in his nature. It was who he was. He was your son.”

Edgar’s eyes watered considerably. “Thank you for saying that. I wasn’t the best father. I was cold and detached, but I loved him. I never said it enough.”

Further discussion was tabled as a knock at the door not only announced the butler’s presence, but the arrival of the car that would take them to see the Group.

“Are you ready?” Olivia asked quietly.

“Yes.” Edgar answered, placing the picture of Reginald back down on the table. “I’m ready.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Travers chewed on the end of his cigar, staring out the window. Behind him, his new assistant scrambled to get papers in order. He sighed loudly. Reginald was so efficient. He never had to worry about things with him.

“I trusted my last assistant with everything. I allowed him near autonomy. He was careless and was killed. I hope you won’t make the same mistake, Ms. Henly?”

Carrie Henly looked up from the papers on the desk, her eyes wide with fear. There was a rumor running through the halls that Mr. Travers had his assistant killed for a minor mistake. Such was the reputation of this great man.

“No, sir. I will serve you to the best of my ability. I will give you a hundred percent and then some. You can count on me.” She said sincerely.

“See that you do.” Quentin moved away from the window, circling his desk. “I need to see the people on this list immediately. It’s an executive meeting, so no excuses will be accepted.”

“What is the nature of the meeting, sir?”

Travers couldn’t help but smile. The nature of the meeting would shock and terrify the men and women on that list. They would quiver at his audacity, and rear back in horror at his power. Those who feared him because they respected him would be impressed. Those who feared him because they felt he was drunk on power would know his wrath soon enough.

“That is classified, my dear. It is of utmost importance to the balance of power.” Travers loved being vague to underlings. It only made them speculate and fear him more.

“That will be all. I don’t want to be disturbed. I have a family matter to attend to for the next half hour.”

Carrie backed out of the room, clutching her notepad to her chest. “Yes, sir. Very well, sir. You will not be disturbed.”

Travers waited until he heard the squeak of the chair on the other side of his door before dialing the number to the house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joanna glanced over her shoulder at the crib. “Catherine” was asleep, finally, after crying for most of the morning. The words of the mysterious woman rang in Joanna’s mind. Would she sacrifice her life for “Catherine’s”? God, that wasn’t even her real name as far as Joanna knew. But she hadn’t thought to ask her mother what she intended to name her. Odd thought, she admitted. Odd thoughts to have seeing she was responsible in part for “Catherine” being taken from her mother’s womb.

Joanna pulled her gaze away from the sparkling blue sea. She walked over to the crib, her fingers reaching out to caress the silky skin of the babe.

“I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”

Joanna jumped back in surprise as Bitty’s eyes opened. There was no shrill cry. There was only curiosity and intelligence in those blue orbs. Tiny arms reached up and out, flailing almost, as “Catherine” stretched. Joanna could have sworn she saw a smile grace the full lips, but in the next instant, she was asleep.

There was a knock at the door.

“Madam, it is Mr. Travers. He would like a report on his granddaughter.”

Joanna nodded, grabbing the extension beside her bed. “Hello, Mr. Travers. This is Joanna.”

“How is my granddaughter?” Joanna could hear the detached emotion in his voice, and shuddered once again in revulsion. She’d helped to put this innocent in this man’s hands. She was going to hell for this. And strangely, she thought it would be a better place than where she was currently living.

“She’s asleep at the moment. She seems to be better today. I think it was a shock to her system. All the moving and all.” She was blabbering, trying to keep the concern out of her voice. Trying to keep this evil, evil man away from the baby.

Quentin chuckled. He found himself doing that more and more as the days went by. “Please don’t worry, Joanna. I know you’re taking excellent care of Catherine. I know you understand the consequences if something should happened to the dear child.” Quentin could hear heavy breathing on the other end.

“I’ll be off. I don’t want to keep you long from your charge.”

Joanna thought again of the woman who’d challenged her to help “Catherine”. At first, she wasn’t sure she could give her life for the child, but listening to the threat leveled by Quentin Travers, she realized her life was forfeited the moment the baby was handed to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were words of condolescence. There were promises of retribution. Edgar took them all to heart as he moved to his chair at the back of the room. His stoic appearance hid his shock as he passed both friends and foes. It was difficult to grasp how they were able to organize right under Quentin’s nose. He would have found the situation somewhat amusing if Reginald were still alive. That one loss overshadowed everything else for him.

“Welcome, Edgar. I’m sorry we’re having to meet under such circumstances.” Yvonne paused, her eyes conveying her feelings better than her words. “You’re not here for our sympathies. You’ve here to ensure Quentin pays for his crimes.”

All eyes were riveted on the elderly woman. “That is our wish as well.”

“Then I suggest we get started.” Edgar suggested. “The time will come for us to honor our dead.”

There was a buzz in the room as members murmured the names of those lost.

“Did Olivia explain what has been going on?” Yvonne asked.

“Yes. She explained about the child. Have you been able to ascertain what her abilities are?”

“Reginald sent the journal of Charles Jayme. He was a Watcher in the late eighteenth century. He discovered the prophecy that foretold the birth of the child.” Yvonne motioned to the copy placed before him.

“We have studied it as well as Reginald’s notes. Travers does not know what the child is able to do. He doesn’t care. Be her for good or for evil, he wants to be the one to control her.” Yvonne sat down, watching as Edgar processed the information.

“With that kind of power, Travers could do anything.” Edgar gasped.

“With that kind of power, he could alter the balance. As it is, we have no idea what his possession of the child has caused. The ripple effect could be deadly.” Olivia intoned.

“We have two problems that I can see. First, we need to determine what Travers plans to do.” Edmund flipped through the pages, searching for a footnote he’d seen. “The second problem, unfortunately, is the child. These notes speak of a ritual. That the baby’s powers will be unfettered once she receives the blood of the Key. If she’s already received the blood, we may be too late.”

“What are you suggesting?” Surely, he wasn’t suggesting they kill the child.

“We are responsible to the world, Ms. Spencer. We cannot be swayed by a seemingly innocent face.”

“And if she’s really innocent?” Olivia argued. “What if we’re all wrong? What if there’s nothing more to this child than having an unique bloodline?”

Edmund sat up straight in his chair, lacing his fingers together. He stared into Olivia’s anxious face. “Let’s hope that’s all there is to her. For now, we will concentrate on Quentin. He will want to lord his capture over the rest of the Council. Sooner or later, he will let the executive board know. We’ll make our plans in anticipation of that meeting. If we can get the board behind us, we’ll have an easier time putting Quentin out to pasture.”

“Quentin will be expecting you to come after him when he’s most vulnerable. Problem is,” Edgar said, standing up to pace the room, “Quentin thinks he’s untouchable right now. We must force his hand. Push ahead his schedule to not only protect our exposed operatives, but the child as well. Olivia is correct when she says the child is an innocent. We are sworn to protect the innocent, and until we have proof she’s anything but innocent, we have to keep her safe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anya was waiting when Giles finally arrived home at four. She was asleep on the couch, but awoke when he closed the door.

“You’re home.”

“You should be in bed.” He admonished. “You shouldn’t overdo it.”

Anya waved off his concern, patting the seat next to her. “I’m doing better. They wouldn’t have released me otherwise. Besides, being here with you, that’s the best medicine.” Anya laid her head on Giles’ shoulder.

Giles leaned his head back, closing his eyes briefly. If he closed them for any longer, he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

“What happened at the hospital?” Anya stroked Giles’ arm, waiting patiently for him.

Giles opened his eyes slowly. After Reginald’s revelations, Giles had driven back to Buffy’s house. He sat there for over a hour, trying to come to grips with Olivia’s betrayal. She was his friend, and she’d lied to him, purposely kept him in the dark. She’d risked all their lives. And for what? In the end,t they’d all lost something.

“Travers’ assistant is alive.”

Anya searched her brain for the man’s name. “Reginald, right?”

“Yes. Travers cut his throat after discovering Reginald was working against him. He told me he wanted to warn us about Travers’ plans for Xander, but his superiors wouldn’t allow it. “

Anya’s brow quirked. “His superiors? Or Olivia? Olivia wouldn’t allow him to tell us. Why? Aren’t we all on the same team?” She yelled. “Totally unbelievable. She’s a Watcher through and through.”

Giles could offer no explanation for Olivia’s actions.

“I cannot excuse Olivia’s actions. I won’t try. I cannot predict what would have happened if she’d been honest with me.” Giles sighed. “I would have liked to have had that option.” To Olivia, it was all about the mission. How many times had he preached that same concept to Buffy?

“What else did he say?” Anya ran her fingers through Giles’ graying hair.

“He told me a coven is responsible for the shielding spell. I’m going to put out some feelers tomorrow. See if I can find out who it is, and if I can get it taken down. It would be better for Buffy and Spike’s sakes if that barrier is down when they get there. Just in case, we’re misguided with our assumptions.”

Anya scooted till she was facing Giles. “There is nothing else for you to do tonight.. umm.. today. Let’s go to bed. Get some sleep. You’ve done all you could today.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rain dropped steadily from the sky, blanketing Sunnydale in gloom. Buffy was grateful for it.

“I know the porch is our place, Pet, but for goodness sakes’ luv, we’re not fish.” Spike snarked.

Buffy laughed, snuggling closer to Spike. The umbrella he held over them, barely kept the rain from dripping down her back, but she didn’t seem to care.

“We’ve had some of our best talks out here. And,” she murmured, kissing his cheek. “I needed to be with you before everything gets crazy.”

Spike smiled in her hair. “I know. Last night was a bit overwhelming, but that’ll pale in comparison to what’s to come.”

“Sleepless nights. Stinky diapers. Projectile vomiting.”

Spike chuckled. “Well, the sleepless nights aren’t a big deal. We rarely sleep. Stinky diapers? Ha. We’ve fought demons that smelled worse. Projectile vomiting? Demons spew when sliced and diced.”

“Who knew demon killing would prepare us for parenthood.” Buffy sat up as she heard a car pull up to the drive. “Someone’s here.”

“I know. Sounds like the Wiccas. Are you ready to go in?”

“I’m ready to go to Scotland. I’m ready to bring our baby home.”

Spike smoothed her rain-dampened hair back off her face. “Then we’d better get going, Pet. The sooner we get this show on the road, the sooner we can bring her home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Giles looked over the group gathered in the living room. They were young, too young to have experienced all they had. He thought of the young man, lying in a hospital bed with his throat slashed. Reginald had survived Travers’ vicious attack, lost the ability to speak in the process, and still fought to do his duty, to protect the Slayer. When he’d been their ages, he’d been into drugs and sorcery. He felt very old in their presence.

“Giles, what’s wrong? You’re all silent-movie. Talk to us. What’s going on?” There was a tinge of panic in Buffy’s voice, but Spike was English, and understood the need for introspection and stern facial expressions.

“Give Rupert a minute, Buffy. I think he’s building up to telling us something.”

Rupert tipped his head to Spike in appreciation. “Spike is correct. Last night I received a call from the hospital. There was a patient there asking to see me. I went to see him.”

“What? Are you insane? It could have been a trap, Giles.” Buffy said in disbelief. “You should have taken one of us with you.”

Giles smiled at Buffy’s concern. “You were exhausted, Buffy. And Spike needed to be here with you. I can take care of myself.” He squeezed her hand before continuing with his story.

“The patient was Reginald, Travers’ assistant.”

Dawn whistled, plopping down next to Anya on the sofa. “Wow. I thought Olivia told you he was dead. Not that anyone actually stays dead around here.” She grimaced at her flippant remark. “Sorry, Buffy.”

“Don’t worry about it. What happened to him? Does he know where Travers is holding Bitty?”

Giles held his hand up to forestall any further questions. Buffy harrumphed, but zipped her lips dramatically.

“Travers slit his throat. It made questioning him very difficult, but I was able to find out what we needed. Not everything we needed, but Bitty’s location and what Travers has planned for her.”

“Planned for her?” Spike growled. “If that bastard harms one hair on her head…”

“Spike calm down. What he wants is power. He doesn’t want to kill Bitty.” Giles didn’t mention there was always that possibility. “Travers wants to use Bitty to cement his position not only over the Council, but as a major force in the battle against good and evil.”

Buffy wanted to scream. It wasn’t enough for Travers to control Slayers, generations of Slayers, but now he had to try and shoot for the whole enchilada.

“What if Bitty doesn’t have any powers or abilities or anything that makes her special?” Spike asked. “What if she is just a little girl?”

“Travers won’t need her, and he’ll get rid of her. Won’t he?” Buffy wouldn’t let the panic overwhelm her. She couldn’t. Spike’s arm snaked around her waist, pulling her against his chest. Sturdy and strong. Just what she needed.

“We won’t allow that to happen, Buffy. We’ll get her out of there before that happens.” Tara said, her timid voice breaking the quiet.

“Yeah!” Anya shouted.

Giles smiled affectionately at her before turning back to Buffy and Spike. Xander felt his heart catch in his throat. If he and Anya were still together, he probably would have shushed her. Instead, Giles accepted her quirkiness. He accepted her.

“There is something else, which I hesitate to tell you. It’ll only anger you, and…”

“What is it?” Dawn asked, fearfully.

This wasn’t the time for diplomacy, and though, he did understand Olivia’s actions, he was disappointed in her.

“Reginald begged for my forgiveness. He knew what Travers had planned for Xander, yet he was forbidden from sharing that information with us. He was planning on coming to us the night he was attacked.” Giles offered as a defense.

Xander chuckled humorlessly under his breath. It seemed fate was against him that night. Salvation was right around the corner.

“Wait a minute. Did Olivia know this?” Buffy asked incredulous.

Giles took a deep breath, looking deeply into her eyes. “Yes, she knew.”

“They knew! They knew what Travers was up to… and they said nothing to us!” Buffy shook her head in disbelief.

“Typical Council behavior. Don’t tell the Slayer what she needs to know to defend herself. Only tell her what you think she needs to know.” Spike clenched his fist at his sides, wanting to punch a hole in the wall in frustration.

Giles stared at the twosome, knowing they were not angry with him. “We don’t have time for accusations and insults.” He admonished them. “Reginald wants to help us. He’s the only one who knows Travers’ plans in their entirety. We have to trust him.”

Buffy’s lip curled in disgust. “My trust has been betrayed before. You’ll have to excuse me if I’m not on board with trusting a man who worked side by side with the bastard who has my daughter!”

Dawn winced. They all knew Buffy was lashing out in anger, and Xander’s presence probably didn’t help calm her nerves. He was like a pebble in her shoe.

As quickly as the storm rose, it was gone. “I’m sorry. I’m pissed, and not with you. I apologize.” Buffy said, sitting down with a thud in the chair.

“Believe me, you are not the only one struggling with Reginald’s revelation.”

Giles reflected quietly for a moment. “Reginald was able to tell me a coven is responsible for the barrier. He wasn’t privy to their exact location or name, but he did say Travers kept in constant contact with them throughout Sunday.”

“Have you been able to find out any information on the coven?” Tara asked quietly.

“I’ve got calls into my friends in England, friends who will make discreet inquiries. We don’t want to alert them.” Giles explained.

“What’s going to happen once they discover who’s doing this?” Dawn inquired. “Won’t the witches notice the barrier is down and contact Travers?”

“They’ll either contact him or they’ll attempt to rebuild it. We need to be prepared for either case. That’s why I propose Buffy and Spike leave for Scotland as soon as we discover who’s behind this spell.“

“There’s nothing you can do, Willow? Anything to make it easier for them to get into the house?” Dawn asked from her place on the floor.

“I’m going to try, Dawn. Once we break the spells down into their individual parts, then I can concentrate on dismantling them. Disrupt one part and I can demolish the whole thing.”

“It’s sorta like a recipe.” Buffy said, sitting on the coffee table. “Can’t have the cake without mixing all the ingredients.”

“Exactly.” Willow replied, smiling at the way Buffy could simplify the most complicated issues into the simplest terms.

Spike said nothing. There was a pun in there somewhere, but it was best left unsaid. He personally would have gone with a cookie metaphor.

“Call the airlines, Rupert.” Spike knew Buffy was anxious to leave, spell casters found or not. He laid his hand on her shoulder, letting her know he felt the same call for action.

“Excuse me, but we still don’t know if Travers is watching us.” Anya remarked, reclaiming her position within the group as the voice, the loud voice of reason.

“I haven’t seen Dewey or Shackleford around. Doesn’t mean they aren’t here, though.” Xander replied, the first words he’d volunteered since yesterday.

Willow smiled at him, proud he’d decided to come on his own to the house, and a bit wary as to how Buffy and Spike would react to his words.

“So, Xander hasn’t seen his friends and that’s the final say on the matter?” Dawn quipped.

“Dawn…” Buffy’s utterance of her name had the desired effect of silencing Dawn.

“She’s right.” Xander admitted. “Don’t take my word. I’ve been wrong before. But can’t you do some sort of spell to determine whether or not they are being watched, like you did before at the Magic Box?” Xander quickly dropped his eyes, studying the carpet.

“We can do that.” Tara told them. “We can use what Willow picked up from Dewey’s apartment to find out where he is at the moment. If he’s in Sunnydale, then you can “talk” to him.” Her definition of talking and theirs differed greatly. She almost pitied Dewey.

“Speaking of talking to someone, I want to talk to Warren.” Buffy said, drawing startled looks from the gang and a scowl from Spike.

“Damn blasted, woman. Are you insane? I’m not letting you anywhere near that wanker.”

“You’re not allowing me? I must not have cleaned my ears this morning. I don’t take orders. Warren may have some information, and I plan on helping him to remember all of it.” Buffy shouted back.

“Or really? And you think the cops are just going to let you walk into the police station and interrogate, and I use the word lightly, a prisoner?”

It was the sarcastic tone of his voice and the half smirk, half scowl on his face that caught Buffy off-guard. It had been so long since they’d gotten into a good fight. She’d missed it.

“You’re right.” And had to giggle at the jaw-dropping effect that admission had on her husband. “They wouldn’t let me near him. Doesn’t mean I don’t wish I could get within a few feet of him.”

Spike put his hand on Buffy’s forehead. “Are you alright, Pet? You just admitted I was right. Do you feel faint or anything?”

Buffy swatted at his hand, sticking her tongue out at him. “I’m fine. I’m just restless. I’m Action Girl, and we’re just sitting here doing nothing.”

“Not nothing, Buffy. We’re researching… stuff. It’s very pro-active.” Willow said, trying to be enthusiastic.

“Thanks.” Buffy gave Willow a quick hug. “Research is our friend.”

“We still have to figure out, hair-dye notwithstanding, how to get Buffy and Spike out of Sunnydale.” Anya called out from the kitchen.

Dawn snickered at the pained _expression on Spike’s face. Since Buffy’s hair was already sporting the two-toned look, it wouldn’t be as drastic a shock for her to become a brunette again. Spike, on the other hand, hadn’t seen his true hair color since the night he died. She would have to remember to take pictures to torture him with later.

“Anya’s right. Even if Travers isn’t stalking us, he’ll most definitely have his eye on who’s coming in and out of the UK.” Dawn pointed out.

“Willow, can you teleport us to Scotland? I know you can’t get us into the house, but can you mojo us into the country? We can get to Petershead ourselves. Spike can read a map.”

“Thanks, luv.” Spike joked. “Do you think you and Glenda could do it?”

Willow looked at Tara, who nodded slowly. She had her doubts, but she would try it.

”You’d better have a back-up plan, just in case.” Tara suggested. “But I think we should be able to do it. It can’t hurt to try.”

“Unless you accidentally flambé them.” Anya replied.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Willow frowned.

“You’re welcome.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Research and Buffy did not mix. That wasn’t anything new. She’d tried to concentrate, but her mind kept seeing Bitty, and all she wanted to do was go, be there with her. Spike recognized the edginess in her, and suggested a light sparring session in the basement. Buffy had agreed, needing to pummel something before she went mad.

As soon as the basement door closed, a huge sigh of relief was expelled from the other occupants at the table.

“God, I thought she was going to rip the pages out.” Giles mumbled, grabbing his century old manuals. He held it securely in his hands, inspecting the pages for rips and tears.

“She feels helpless. We know where Bitty is, but there’s basically nothing for us to do. Buffy’s actually handling it better than I thought, and Spike has totally shocked me. Patience has never been one of his virtues.” Willow replied.

Dawn glanced at the closed door, wishing she could offer some comfort to them.

“We’re making progress, though.” Anya interjected cheerfully. “There isn’t any sign that anyone is watching us.” The revelation spell had been performed while the gang had researched.

“That’s one problem solved for the moment.” Giles responded. “Now, we have to see about completinng that teleportation spell. Unfortunately, Anya did bring up a good point. It is a risky endeavor. We have no way of knowing if Buffy or Spike will arrive in Scotland or where exactly in Scotland.”

“You can try the spell on me,” Xander volunteered. “We can’t risk them being hurt. They are the only ones strong enough to get into the Petershead compound and get Bitty out.”

Dawn knew her mouth was gaping open, and she wasn’t the only one thankfully.

”Xander, why?” Willow asked, when she finally regained her voice. She looked deeply into his brown eyes.

“Because they are Bitty’s parents. She needs them. She doesn’t need ol’ uncle Xan quite as much.”

Willow clutched Xander’s arm, forcing him to face her. “Xander, I wouldn’t risk you or Spike or Buffy on this spell. You don’t have anything to prove to us.”

Willow’s gaze didn’t falter. Xander could see the truth in her eyes. But he also knew that Willow was his Willow, his best friend. They would always be there for each other, no matter what occurred in their lives. This was a different situation all together. Buffy and Spike had lost their daughter because of him. He’d betrayed them. There was nothing he could say or do to change the facts. All he could do was attempt to regain their trust. And the first step was to show them by deed, that he was as committed to bringing Bitty home as they were. To show them he was willing to put his life on the line for hers, for them.

“Got to prove to myself, Willow, that I’m not the kind of man who would betray his friends and then do nothing to make things right. I’ve got to forgive myself, Willow. I would appreciate it, though, if you didn’t flambé me. I kinda have other things to do next week.”

Willow’s eyes filled with tears. This was his choice. This was his decision to make.

“I’ll try.”

Xander pulled away from Willow, as he realized Tara, Dawn, Anya, and Giles were watching them. “Now, that I’m the guinea pig for Willow’s latest adventure in Wicca, what’s next? We still don’t know when Travers is going to make his power play. Aren’t you going to have to check in with Olivia for that info?”

“Yes, unfortunately, I am going to have to contact Olivia. She has much greater access to Quentin than my other sources. If he’s going to call an Executive meeting, then she’ll know about it before the rest of the Council will.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Edgar sat bone-straight in the high backed chair, watching as Travers finished his business with his new assistant. The young woman was in awe of them. Edgar could tell by the way she glanced surreptitiously in his direction. The young were easily swayed.

“Thank you, Ms. Henly. That will be all.” Quentin hadn’t expected to see Edgar Smythe-Bailey this morning. In fact, he’d avoided all contact with the man since his return.

“Edgar, sorry to keep you waiting, but you know how it is. Evil never sleeps.” Quentin leaned back in his chair, affecting a relaxed position. “How are you? I know Reginald’s death must have been difficult, especially with him being your only child.”

The red haze of rage and anger had always been a mystery to Edgar, never having hated anyone enough to be that enraged. Now, all he saw was red. He wanted nothing more than to plunge a dagger into Quentin’s chest.

“Thank you, Quentin. I know you were fond of Reginald. It must have been a shock to you when he disappeared.”

“Er umm.. yes, it was. I am not a man prone to intense emotional ties, but Reginald was someone whose company I truly enjoyed.” Travers smiled tightly, wondering what the true purpose of this visit was.

“I want to understand what happened to Reginald. I know death is a risk we all face as Watchers, but I need to know why he was in Sunnydale. Why he was out so late at the Hellmouth? I need answers.”

That wasn’t a lie. Edgar needed to know every minute of Reginald’s life since they stopped communicating. He needed the memories to get him through the rest of his days.

“There was word from the Hellmouth of increased activity. I took it upon myself to determine if the Slayer needed help.”

Edgar had to give it to him. The bastard was clever. Too clever to give away his trump card.

“I would like to speak with her. I can’t understand why she would allow Reginald to patrol without her. It is her job after all.”

“That won’t be necessary, Edgar. I spoke with Ms. Summers after we discovered Reginald was missing. She assures me Reginald went off on his own. She was not privy to his activities. She wishes she had been.” Travers had to think quickly. He couldn’t allow Edgar to talk to Buffy or vice versa. He would not have them interfering with his plans. Once he held the meeting, once he presented Bitty to the Executive board, he would be untouchable. Their feeble attempts would be met with swift and painful resistant.

“I would still like to talk with her. I hope she’ll humor an old man.” Edgar lowered his head, unable to stare into the eyes of the devil any longer.

“Do as you wish, Edgar. It’s understandable. You want to find someone responsible for Reginald’s death, when it was nothing more than his overzealousness. It was the lure of the field that killed him. The opportunity to face demons he’d only read about.”

The red haze flared brightly, burning his corneas. He closed his eyes against the searing pain. He had to take several deep breaths before he could face Quentin again.

“I’m sure you’re right, Quentin. I need to blame someone for Reginald’s death. I know it’s ridiculous, but I want to blame someone. I need to hurt whoever, whatever harmed my boy.”

Was that a threat? Quentin tried to peer into Edgar’s face to determine the truth, but they were interrupted by a buzz. He pressed the call button, and the voice of his assistant filled the room.

“Mr. Travers, you have a call from a Mr. Shackleford. You asked that he be put through immediately.” She responded nervously.

“Yes, thank you very much.” He said sincerely. “I’ll be just a moment.”

Taking that as his cue to leave, Edgar stood. Travers extended his hand. “I wish I could offer you some comfort, Edgar. Reginald was a fine Watcher, a more than capable assistant. I…” There was a catch in Quentin’s voice that nearly made Edgar laugh at its falseness. “I wish I could have saved him.”

Edgar couldn’t force the words past the bile in his throat, so he merely nodded and took his leave. He needed a shower and a glass of brandy to remove the stench of this meeting from his person.

Quentin waited till he was sure Edgar had left the office before picking up the phone.

“Shackleford, I need you to head to Sunnydale. There may be a problem with the Slayer.”

“Has she discovered where the child is being hidden?”

“No. But she may be contacted by Reginald’s father, and she’ll most surely reveal what has really been going on. I want to make certain neither of them is able to disrupt my meeting.” It was a little early in the day for a drink, but Quentin felt this was an excusable offense after what he’d endured.

“I’ll get right on it, sir.”

“Thank you, Mr. Shackleford. “

Travers sat back and smiled. It wouldn’t matter soon what Buffy Summers or Rupert Giles did. Once he had the Key’s blood and Bitty was fully empowered, no one would dare oppose him. He’d have the Council’s full arsenal of weapons to fight his battles. He’d be the most powerful person this side of the ether. The Powers would fear him. They all would.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Giles was the man, as far as Buffy was concerned. There was no doubt about it.

“Elsemeth was very helpful. The Coven’s head was unaware two of her members had been contracted to perform the spell. They were told Bitty was being hunted by the First’s minions, the Bringers, and she needed full-time protection until she came into her powers and was able to defend herself.”

Dawn scrunched her face, obviously confused. “Bringers? They are those eyeless dudes Angel fought right?”

“Yep. Black robes and bad eyesight, but pretty much harmless. They smell bad, but you can fight them. They are just human zombies.” Buffy answered, munching on a cookie.

“They smell bad. Like how bad?” Willow asked. “Are we talking skunky bad or day old garbage bad?”

“Does it really matter? They stink.” Spike said exasperated. “Let the man finish his story, please.”

“Thank you, Spike. Glad you understand the importance of flow to a story.” Giles’ haughty attitude elicited giggles from the girls, and a snort from Spike. Even Xander had a grin to his face.

“As I was saying, they believed the story, and erected the barrier. They were told to monitor it regularly, since the First would try to bring it down. They’ve felt our attempts to locate Bitty, and have responded in kind. Rashmonde, the head of the coven, has already pledged her support. She has already determined which spells were used, and is prepared to break them when Buffy and Spike are in position.”

“That means we need to do the spell tonight, since Spike and Buffy are leaving day after tomorrow.” Anya told them. She still couldn’t believe Xander had volunteered for this, but she was proud of him nevertheless.

“Yes, we do. It’s not too late to back out, Xander. We would understand.” Giles’ gaze studied Xander, attempting to discover any hesitation or doubt on his part.

“I’ve already said I’d do it. There’s nothing else to discuss. It’s going to be hard enough on Willow and Tara to do this with two people. At least, this way, if we need to use the back-up, we can.”

“There’s no danger to us, Xander.” Willow stated.

“We’ve been doing our meditations and… everything will be alright.” Tara added.

Buffy was worried, concerned for her friends. It warred, however, with her desire to get to Scotland. She looked around, catching Spike’s eye. He smiled, letting her know he understood.

“Speaking of the back-up, did you get your I.D.s?” Giles queried.

Spike walked over to the bureau and pulled out an envelope. He spread the contents out on the table for their perusal.

“Randy and Joan?” Dawn asked amused. “I would have thought you’d want to shed those personas.”

Spike shrugged. “They are so far removed from Buffy and Spike, they won’t bring unwanted attention to us.”

“Boring names to go with boring hair color.” Buffy quipped. She ran her fingers through her hair, reveling in its blondeness for now. Day after tomorrow, she’d be as nature wanted her to be.

“As of now, there is no indication we are being watched. We still must act as if we are. Buffy, Spike, Dawn, and myself will go the airport. Willow, Tara, and Anya will already be there, setting up for the teleportation spell. Xander will stay in contact with Elsemeth and the coven to confirm Buffy and Spike’s arrival.”

Spike felt Buffy’s hand on his, and he looked down into her upturned face. He leaned down, kissing her lightly on the lips. When he stood up, Dawn was watching them with a wistful smile on her face. Spike reached out and took her hand.

“And it begins.” Dawn whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Second sight. Sixth sense. Whatever it was that alerted Travers to what Buffy and Spike were planning, there was now surveillance on them. Sitting out on their porch, holding hands and thinking of what lay ahead, they separately sensed the man observing them.

“Do you feel him?” Spike asked under his breath, so quietly that no human could hear.

“Yeah. What clued you in?” Buffy asked, leaning over to stroke the curling hair at Spike’s nape.

“He smells.” Spike answered. They looked at each other and started to laugh. They laughed till tears ran down their cheeks. It was just the release they needed.

Spike caressed her cheeks, cradling her chin as he stared into her eyes. “It won’t be much longer, sweetheart.”

“I know. I can’t wait to leave.” Buffy said, at a normal level. “I walk past the nursery, and all I can see is Bitty. She should be asleep in her cradle right now, Spike. She should be up there, dreaming about those butterflies, about rainbows. Instead, she’s with people who don’t, who can’t love her the way we do.”

Shackleford lowered the night vision glasses from his eyes, and sat back. So they were planning a trip, but to where? It wouldn’t be hard to discover where they’d purchased tickets to. Shackleford waited till Buffy and Spike went into the house before running to his car.

He punched the memory key for Travers. It would be early morning. He hoped he was disturbing his tea.

“Mr. Shackleford, how nice to hear from you. How are my little lambs doing?” Quentin folded the paper into a neat little square, and placed it besides his teacup.

“This is not a social call, Mr. Travers. They are on the move.” Shackleford tapped his thumb on the steering wheel.

“Mr. Shackleford, you’re being so mysterious, so secretive. There’s no need to be. I’m already impressed with your skills.” Travers seemed to think he was being cute, so Shackleford allowed him his moment to chuckle at his joke.

“They are planning a trip. I’m checking now to see where they are going. I just want you to be prepared in case they are coming to England.”

That made Quentin pause in the application of jam onto his scone. “Even if they come to England, they have no idea where Catherine is. You’re much too paranoid. But…” Travers took a bite of the scone, savoring the taste before continuing. “But, this trip does present us with a prime opportunity to obtain the Key’s blood. As soon as they are gone, concentrate all your efforts on Dawn Summers. Once we get her blood, we can close this operation down. Won’t that be nice, Shackleford? You’ll be able to return to your life on your farm.”

Shackleford couldn’t allow himself to think of the farm. Couldn’t think of the peace and quietness of his retreat. Maybe, he would once he was on the plane with Dawn Summers’ blood, but for now, all he could do was concentrate on Buffy and Spike. Nothing was ever simple with these people. Travers might not take this situation seriously, but he was paid to.

“I’ll contact you when I discover their travel plans. Until then, good day, sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Giles weighed the information Buffy gave him about the renewed surveillance as he poured a cup of tea.

“I think we can safely assume Travers has no knowledge of our plans.” Giles reassured them. He dipped the steeping ball repeatedly into the water.

“There’s no way he could know. If Travers suspected that you’d planned to head to Petershead, that you even knew Petershead existed, he wouldn’t have sent his man here. And from what I’ve gleamed from my sources, Travers is too busy trying to solidify his position within the Council. His meeting with the upper echelon is scheduled for next week.”

Buffy rubbed her arms to fend off a sudden chill. “I know. I know, Giles. I’m just nervous. It’s just we’re so close to having her back with us.”

Giles understood. He understood completely. He walked over to her, holding her in his arms. “Buffy, this isn’t like last time.” Xander’s betrayal still stung, even after a week of working together. “Trust me. Everything is in readiness.”

“Any word on what he plans for this meeting?” Spike asked, pulling Buffy into his arms. She felt as if she was bouncing like a pinball from one pair of strong arms to another, but she wasn’t going to complain.

“Nothing yet from Olivia. She has her agenda. We have ours. Her main concern is protecting the people within the Council who are working against Travers and his cronies. Bitty is a secondary concern.” Harsh words he knew, but that didn’t make them any less the truth. Bitty was only a concern due to the fact she was an unknown. But to them, her family, she was just a baby, a child who was to be protected and sheltered at all cost.

“Olivia will help us as much as she can.”

“We’ve never depended on them for anything before. I’m not holding out for much help from them. I don’t care if these are new and improved Watchers.” Buffy groused, pulling out of Spike’s arms.

“Present company excluded.” Spike joked, a whisper of a smile softening his cheekbones.

“Thank you.” Giles smiled in return. “We need to ascertain how many people are watching the house.” Giles took a sip of the tea, smiling as the warm liquid eased down his throat. There was nothing like a well-prepared up of tea. There was another reason to be grateful to Spike. The first was the happiness he brought to Buffy. The second was the availability of fresh tea leaves. It was good to know that after a hundred years, many of which were spent away from the Motherland, Spike hadn’t forgotten what it meant to be a true Englishman.

“The nose knows.” Buffy said, tapping Spike’s nose with her finger. “How many did you sniff out, honey?” She would never tell him how eww-worthy she found the whole vampire smell thing because there were times, like this one, when she found it very helpful.

“Last night, there was just the one guy.” Spike offered. “But that doesn’t mean there wasn’t someone else out there backing him up.” God, he hoped they made a move on them, he really did. The chip was gone and so was his baby, and he would love to take it out on the people who’d taken her.

“I guess it’d be too much to ask that Travers sent them here to attack us.” Buffy’s eyes were big and hopeful. At Giles’ silent “No”, Buffy lightly kicked the stool. “Damn! I was really hoping they’d try something, so I could release some of this tension.”

Spike snickered, drawing her attention back to him. One look into his eyes and she knew he’d been thinking the same thing. It was the best feeling in the world to know he got her so completely. That she didn’t have to explain her moods or emotions. Her wants were his, and his hers.

“Buffy, I must caution you and Spike to please not provoke a fight with these people. If they realize you’re on guard, they’ll be on guard. I know you want to beat something into the ground, and the rest of Sunnydale’s demons aren’t cooperating by being evil, but you’ll just have to take out your aggression on something else.” Giles’ mild reproach didn’t quite reach his eyes as Buffy saw the hint of laughter in his blue orbs. She rolled her eyes in amusement as he turned to wash out his cup.

“Can I hit Xander?” She asked under her breath.

She wanted to forgive him. That had surprised her after their talk in the nursery. There was a part of her that really wanted to forgive him and hug him, and believe that they could go back to being best friends. But she wasn’t through being angry with him. She hated what he’d become, what he’d allowed his hate to make him do. She knew he hadn’t set out to hurt them, but Xander had, and she was angry about it. And damnit, she wanted to rage at him, but it took too much energy. She had to find her daughter. Maybe, years from now, when Bitty was grown, she’d be able to face Xander again with a clear heart.

“You take all the fun out of being superhuman, Rupert.”

“That’s my job.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be Continued in Part 2

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