"So this means she isn't anywhere in Sunnydale, right?" Dawn murmured in disappointment as she glanced from the map of the town resting on the floor to Tara who was sitting cross-legged on the floor along the edge of a sand casting circle. Both Dawn and Spike sat like the other two corners of a triangle along the edge of the circle. Willow had elected to wait in the dorm lobby instead of join them in Tara's room. She wasn't sure she could handle seeing her ex-girlfriend currently. It wasn't just the magic they had just performed either. She suspected she would lose all dignity and start begging and crying that Tara forgive her and take her back.
"Um, y-yes... I mean... n-no, Buffy isn't in Sunnydale," the insecure white witch confirmed. She hated to disappoint the teen. Tara guessed that Dawn was a bit scared over her sister's disappearance and she really wanted to help.
"Maybe we should try another map?" Dawn suggested.
Tara nodded and said she had an atlas on the shelf. The locator spell wasn't particularly difficult or expensive to perform. She had the ability to cast it a couple more times before she was too out of energy. Spike got up and silently retrieved the book of maps. He flipped through a number of pages until he found the one he wanted. The vampire sat the book in the circle.
"Uh, I d-don't think I c-can cast one that big, Spike," Tara nervously admitted when she noticed that he had opened the book to a picture of the entire world. "I'm not powerful enough."
"Could Red do it?" Spike asked.
Tara nodded.
"But we can't ask her."
Spike was about to disagree because this was for Buffy and that the other witch would have to get over herself and help but Dawn forestalled his angry grumbling. Now was not the time to be grousing over Willow's magic addiction issues. Personally, Dawn was so disgusted with the red head that she would be happy to never acknowledge her ever again.
"Couldn't we combine efforts? Like use Spike and I for extra batteries to give your spell more boost?" the teen questioned.
If possible, Tara looked even more nervous. She had only ever shared energies with Willow and her mother when casting spells. She wasn't sure if she could combine essence with people she didn't love. The white witch pushed her long dishwater blonde hair behind her ears and glanced at her companions. She reached out and brushed Dawn's dark hair behind her ear too. She cared about Dawn. She often felt a kinship with the younger girl. She knew Dawn perpetually felt forgotten and overshadowed by her super-powered sibling. Tara knew what it was like to grow up with a sibling who the world revolves around. Her mother might have made her feel loved, but her father had only had eyes and care for her brother. She offered Dawn an encouraging smile. She could work with that feeling of kinship.
Tara shifted her attention to the agitated vampire pacing around her dorm room. On a good day, Spike made the timid woman a bit nervous. His energy and passion coupled with volatile temper and violent tendencies were more than her reserved personality could easily handle. Unlike Willow and Xander, Tara had not known Spike before the Initiative placed the behavior modification chip in his head. She didn't hate him for his violent past. If anything, she saw him struggling on the fringes of their existence. He was unable to be the demon he once was but was unsure of how to be anything else. Tara clasp her hands nervously in her lap. Perhaps she could use that feeling of being on the outside as a way to connect with the vampire. She often felt that way with the Scoobies. Buffy and Willow and Xander and even Giles had been through so much together that it made it hard for others to really connect with them completely. She, Spike, Anya and even Dawn where relegated to the outer circle of existance while the work of the Slayer circled mostly around the original Scoobies.
Tara frowned. Except the inner circle seemed to be floundering lately. Giles was gone back to England. Willow was lost in her own personal struggles. Xander had embraced being an adult with responsibilities like his job and planning a wedding and it had divided his loyalties to the group. Then Tara thought of Buffy. She sighed. Buffy was not the same glowing warrior of light that had dazzled her so much when they met as freshmen. Tara knew she was broken with too much weight and too many losses in too little time. Tara just wished that there was something she could do to truly help her. The determination to help in any way possible steeled her nerve.
Making up her mind, Tara called Spike over and said that she was willing to try the more involved spell. Silently, she hoped she wasn't making a huge mistake. She instructed the teen and the vampire to join her on the floor again. Instead of sitting quietly and watching this time though, she asked that they focus all their thoughts on picturing Buffy. She then had them join hands to make a circuit that could more easily channel their energies. Tara realized that Willow would most likely have been able to just snag the energy right from their bodies but her magic didn't work the same way. Hers was more subtle. Willow's magic was raw and powerful and beat down the things in its path. Tara saw her magic as being more like a soft summer breeze. It wasn't powerful. It was more a gentle touch. It was enough to slightly sway the branches and offer cooling comfort to the overheated but it wasn't going to change the world.
The white witch made a conscious decision to force away thoughts of her recent lover. She needed all her energy to make this next spell work. She too focused her thoughts on Buffy as she opened herself to the other two participants in the casting.
Tara gasped as the two energies surged into her being. It was not a pleasant experience for the witch. With a little concentration, she was able to recognize the two distinct flavors of power coursing into her body and helping to fuel the spell. Both held a weight of time and age that she had not expected but probably should have since she was dealing with a girl created from ancient mystical energy and a potentially immortal demon.
The power from Dawn had an almost sharp and cutting edge to it. She could feel the love the teen held for her sister but there were a number of abrasive elements to the feeling. Resentment and selfishness fiercely entwine with the love and it was further tainted with a childish hero worship that focused on the surface of the Slayer instead of on Buffy as an entire being. There was dependency but self anger because of the dependency. There was petty jealousy and even an element of self satisfying superiority to Dawn's feelings. Tara grimaced. None of the feelings were especially surprising given that Dawn was a little sister on top of having only a few years of actual real memories and maturity under her belt. It didn't mean that the feelings were a treat to experience though.
The power from Spike was equally unpleasant for Tara to contain. She had expected his essence to be chilling like the cold corpse he was. The witch had not anticipated the scalding burn that rushed inside her from their connection. She felt like she was almost drowning in the crushing tide of his emotions. In the back of her mind she noted that whoever taught Giles that vampires didn't feel anything more than base emotions was obviously an uninformed idiot. She shuddered under the crushing pressure and fought to breath. The crush of emotion swirled around Tara and she flinched from the anger and violence that insinuated its scratching fingers through the other emotions.
The love Spike felt for Buffy was entirely different than Dawn's feelings. There were soft fluttery feelings that Tara easily identified as love but there were also dark and lustful ones that made her skin feel too tight and the muscles in her womb contract in a manner she had never experienced before in contact with a male. Desperately, the Wicca shifted through the possessive elements to grasp at the tenderness embedded deeply in swirling flood. She gathered those softer emotions towards her in hopes of stemming the choking sensation of drowning in raw passion.
Unfortunately, Spike was an all or nothing type of person. All his feelings were so thickly interwoven that when Tara pulled at one, she got them all anyway. Floundering, she gave up trying to find the soft kernel of feeling that she embraced as traditionally and easily identified symbols of love. Instead, she forced everything together along with Dawn's chaos of power and shoved it with all her might into the spell.
Power surged out of her body. Blinding light flashed in the room and a crack of thunder accompanied the blast. All the candles were blown out and sand scattered.
"Wow..." muttered Tara as she swayed for a moment and the only thing keeping her from falling back to the carpet was the tight grip that Spike and Dawn held on her hands.
Her dorm door slammed open and a panicked Willow raked the room with her eyes. She had felt the blast of magical energy and heard the thunder. She had instantly worried about everyone's safety.
"What happened?" she demanded when she found the mess in the previously tidy room.
Tara giggled as she stared drunkenly at the map. Confusion pricked at the euphoric rush when she realized that there was no mark on the world map. She shook her head.
"That makes no sense," she insisted as she released her hold on her companions. Her hands scrambled across the unmarked surface of the map. "I felt the spell work. It had enough power and it worked perfectly. She should show up on the map."
She lifted heart-sickened eyes to meet Spike's pained gaze.
"Oh God... she's dead..." Dawn murmured only to be immediately pulled into a hug by the stressed vampire.
"No, no, Nibblet," he promised with a fervor that revealed how desperately he wanted his words to be true. "She can't be dead. No body."
Dawn clung tightly to the vampire and buried her head against his chest.
"Then where is she?" the teen begged desperately. "How do we find her now?"
"I don't know but we'll find her."
Tara stood and started collecting some things and put them in a large tote back. She still swayed slightly and her voice sounded like she was trying to catch her breath.
"I think it might help if we started where she disappeared. There might be some clue there as to where she is or what took here."
For a moment, a new expression of panic flashed in Spike's eyes but he quickly veiled it. He explained that they were at his crypt when she disappeared. In silence, they all trooped back to the Summers jeep and proceeded to Spike's graveyard home. The vampire kept nervously glancing at the slowly lightening horizon. They would be reaching the safety of his crypt just before the sun rose.
Tara, Willow and Dawn followed Spike into his home. As normal, the crypt was dusty and cool but it was obvious that someone was squatting there. The tv, mini-fridge, and ratty furniture collected from the dump made the fact obvious.
Tara put down her bag and started wandering around the space. She tried to open her senses to see if she could feel anything amiss with the crypt but she didn't feel anything but the cool promise of the grave tickling her sensitive skin.
"Did Buffy stop here after patrol?" Willow demanded from her position near the crypt entrance. She had tried to engage Tara in conversation on the trip to the cemetery but the other woman had merely shaken her head and hidden behind her long hair and bowed head. Willow was angry that the other witch was ignoring her and decided to pass along some of the frustration to the resident vampire.
Spike twitched nervously as his eyes darted from Tara who was slowly pacing through his living space to the red head.
"Uh, yeah... she did a quick patrol then stopped for a bit," he admitted before nervously wiping his palms against his pant legs. He then rubbed his left hand over his uncovered stomach. He grimaced when his hands ran over the slowly healing scratch marks. Suddenly, he desperately wished he had more clothes on his body.
He then excused himself to go find a shirt. The vampire attempted to flee down the hole behind the stone sarcophagus to the cavern where he slept but Tara stopped him with one of the questions he didn't want to answer.
"Where was Buffy exactly when she disappeared?"
Spike looked momentarily guilty and all three girls noticed but none had a chance to comment before he answered.
"Um, she was downstairs," the vampire admitted as he raised his left hand and ran it nervously across the back of his neck. His eyes darted towards the hole again.
"I think this might work better if you show me where," Tara prompted. She grabbed her bag and tucked the handles over her shoulder.
Reluctantly, Spike agreed although only after warning her that it was really a mess down there and that he would need to get some lights lit for her.
The vampire dropped down the hole in the stone floor and Tara followed by climbing down the ladder. By the time she stepped away from the rungs, Spike had lit a couple candles that cast a warm glow through the cavern. Tara stepped towards the light. Her eyes caught sight of the disheveled room and they widened in understanding when she noticed a red lace bra snapped, discarded and hanging forgotten on an outcropping of rock. Her vision scanned quickly around the space and noticed a pair of discarded blue jeans that didn't match the normal Spike's normal style. It might have helped that Buffy confided in her about her relationship with Spike but the evidence laying about the room was pretty revealing unto itself.
Clamoring on the ladder caught Tara's attention and stopped Spike from lighting more candles.
"Dawnie, y-you should wait upstairs," warned Tara as she tried to halt the teen's decent. In typical fashion, the brunette did not listen. Tara was not even remotely forceful and the teen wouldn't have listened to her sister either. She jumped the last few rungs and spun around to take in the cavern.
"Did you find any clues?" she demanded impatiently before her eyes lit up slightly. "Oh, Spike, I like the rugs. They make the place seem more... um..."
Her voice fell silent as she bent over and picked up one of her sister's few remaining nice silk shirts. It was one of Buffy's favorite designer outfits tops that dated from when their mom was still around to spoil her and that had surprisingly survived nightly patrosl. Dawn recognized it because it was one of the few nice shirts she hadn't already stolen out of Buffy's closet. After all, she was still in school and needed to maintain a certain standard. Dawn figured her sister didn't need designer clothes for patrol or for working at Doublemeat Palace. The teen checked the shirt for damage and found nothing wrong with it. She held it out towards Tara.
"Whatever got her sent Buffy somewhere but not her clothes?" the teen questioned in confusion. It didn't make sense but perhaps it was a clue.
Along the wall, Spike attempted to snag the torn red bra from the wall and stuff it in the back pocket of his jeans. His guilty attempt only drew attention to his movement and the vampire found himself the subject of exactly the scrutiny he was hoping to avoid.
Tara's eyes seemed to hold understanding and a hint of sympathy which led the vampire to figure she somehow already knew about the physical relationship he was sharing with the Slayer. On the other hand, the younger Summers girl was staring at him suspiciously as her eyes snapped back and forth between the balled up bra and the scratches on Spike's chest. Her blue eyes suddenly widened comically and she squealed in a pitch that pierced the vamp's sensitive ears.
"OH MY GOD YOU'RE BOINKING MY SISTER!"
If Spike could have looked more like a deer caught in the headlights, he would have needed antlers. He gaped at the teen who somehow looked betrayed that he would dare have sex with her sister even though she knew he loved her.
"Who's boinking Buffy?" Willow questioned as she too joined the party.
"Bloody Hell! Why don't we all just have a party in my bedroom?" He ranted. "Invite all the neighbors and poke their noses in my own private business!"
"Your neighbors are all dead!" Dawn yelled irrationally at the vampire who was making her feel so irrationally jealous. For years she had thought that Spike was her vampire. Granted, she knew the bleached freak was in love with her sister but her prissy perfect sister didn't see him as anything other than a nuisance. He was Dawn's friend and she certainly didn't want to share him with anyone. She especially didn't want to share him with her sister.
"Who's boinking Buffy?" Willow repeated as she joined the others in the dimly lit cavern.
Dawn waved the damning bit of silk evidence in the red head's face.
"Buffy's sleeping with the undead again!" Dawn accused in pure bratty sister tone that was one part jealousy, one part disgust, and one part hope her sister gets in trouble for something that was none of her business in the first place.
"What? Huh?" Willow clamored in confusion as she glanced rapidly between Spike and Dawn.
"Spike... Buffy... having wild monkey sex WITH EACH OTHER!" Dawn explained one more time.
This time the explanation cleared the fog in her mind and Willow suddenly became indignant. No one had told her that Buffy and Spike were having sex. She was the best friend. Shouldn't she know these things? Resentment at being yet again left out of the information loop bubbled over and Willow began yelling demands about the relationship and how wrong they were to be sneaking behind everyone's backs. Dawn joined in on the yelling as she attempted to vent her frustrations and fear on the easiest target. The target, in a typical Spike response, got just as angry. He dropped the nervous guilt and immediately began yelling back at the two girls who were verbally attacking him and Buffy.
Horrified, Tara just stared at the three verbal combatants. She tried a couple times to calm their tirades but no one would listen to the soft spoken witch. Fed up with their ridiculous behavior that wasn't helping find Buffy at all, Tara grabbed one of Spike partially empty liquor bottles and threw it against the wall. The glass shattered noisily and startled the arguments into silence.
"Just stop!" Tara ordered firmly. "This isn't helping."
She glared at the fools until each one sheepishly swallowed their ire. Tara then pointed to the ladder and ordered both Willow and Dawn to go back upstairs. When they went to protest, the white witch just pointed again and glared at them so fiercely that she shelved their complaints. As it turned out, Tara's resolve face made Willow's one look like child's play. Both girls reluctantly left the candlelit cavern like the punished petulant children they were mimicking.
Once the distractions were gone, Tara turned her attention back to the properly chastised vampire. Without a complaint, he answered questions about where they were when Buffy suddenly vanished as well as what exactly they were doing. Tara blushed slightly as she listened to him but moved confidently to sit next to the spot they had occupied before everything went pear shaped. She pulled a large quartz meditation focus from her bag and set it in front of her crossed legs.
Closing her eyes, the Wicca relaxed herself until she could feel the ebb and flow of the magic in the world around her. She could hear the gentle pull of the strong protective earth as it embraced death and transitioned it back into life. She felt the ever changing pull of water flowing somewhere in the cavern that edged against her consciousness and attempted to entice her away into its depths. She touched the soft tendrils of air that clamored and twisted in an attempt to escape the stale cavern and rejoice in the freedom of the open sky. She felt the pulse of passion that had seeped into the very core of the cavern as well as the despair and pain that seemed to drip from the very walls. Sorting through all these textures, Tara found the tiniest hint of magic. It was just a miniscule shadow of the spell but from it she could tell that whoever cast the spell had possessed a soul. A faint trace of the soul remained in the wake of the casting.
Slowly waking from her meditative state, Tara was greeted by a now calm but obviously worried vampire sitting directly in front of her and mirroring her position.
"Any luck?" he whispered and Tara's heart broke a little at the pain reflected in Spike's expression. Having shared his essence earlier, she knew without a doubt just how deeply the vampire cared for the Slayer. Fervently, she hoped that someday, someone would love her with even a part of the passion that he wrapped around his feelings for the missing Slayer. It might not have been a pure thing but the love was real and staggering in its depth.
"You're right. She's gone but not dead. No death taint here," she reassured him verbally while she reached out physically and gently touched his arm.
"So how do we get her back?" he asked in a tone that resembled a lost little boy and not the cocky vampire that had spent the past couple years alternating between annoying and aiding the Scoobies.
"We find who did the spell and we trace where he or she sent her. If that doesn't work, we can start work on some kind of retrieval spell. The first one would be easier to cast. The second one would need a lot more power than we can easily muster. We might need the help of a Coven and some extra batteries to yank her back blind. Either way, we will bring her home, Spike. I promise."
Spike smiled softly at the witch's softly spoken vow. He thanked her and patted her hand once before standing. Tara watched as the insecure and hurting man slipped behind the mask of the arrogant monster. As he turned to face the inevitable turmoil awaiting him upstairs, the Wicca silently sent a prayer to the goddess to lend her strength and wisdom to help find their missing friend. She truly hoped she would be able to keep her promise. She suspected Spike's life might depend upon it.
Waking up was never one of my favorite activity of the day. Waking up with my brother poking my shoulder and perched on the edge of my mattress just added to the undesirable sensation. I couldn't help but groan before asking what he needed. Of course, the bastard didn't actually answer my question. No, that would be too easy on my sleep muddled mind. Instead, he jumped right to the hard questions.
"Who's the pretty jail-bait on the couch?" He demanded softly with a suggestive smirk that I might have found annoying if I was a bit more coherent.
"Huh?"
That's me, Mr. Articulate.
Thomas stared at me for a moment as if I had lost mind.
"I'm talking about the pretty little blonde girl who if you were anyone other than you that I would accuse of corrupting a minor."
Thomas snorted then shook his head as if terribly disappointed in me.
"But since it is you, you're probably just doing your white knight impersonation."
I levered myself up and placed both my feet on the floor. Being vertical normally helped my brain work better for some reason. Not sure why. You would think the blood had an easier time traveling up to my head when I was laying down but I have always thought better on my feet. This time was no different as the fog cleared and I finally remember just who Thomas was referencing.
"That's Buffy," I volunteer as I made it the whole way to my feet and headed towards the doorway. I pulled down the t-shirt that had scrunched up during sleep and ran my hand through my messy hair. I vividly remembered the expression on Buffy's face when she was first flung into my arms. I smirked. "And there's no way she is jail bait."
Once more, my jerk of a brother snorted. He always thinks he knows so much about the opposite sex because he has women throwing themselves at him all the time. Of course, he has the added advantage of being a White Court vampire. An incubus. Women and even men couldn't help but want him. Didn't mean he knew everything about women but it tended to make him cocky about his appeal.
"Yeah right," he countered as he joined me by the entrance to the living room. "If she's old enough to legally drink, I owe you dinner. Real dinner and not those lousy fast food burgers you call food."
"I want Italian," I teased as my eyes sought my house guest who was still fast asleep on my sofa. Between the dark bruising under her eyes and her newly acquired injury, Buffy had looked beyond exhausted last night. It was no wonder she was still out despite my brother's unexpected arrival. I was betting a veritable army of vampires could invade and she wouldn't move.
Currently, Buffy was curled on her side with one arm tucked under my extra pillow. Her other hand hung off the edge of the couch and was buried in Mouse's thick fur at the scruff of his neck. Her legs were pulled up tight and the throw blanket she huddled under had fallen to the side. Her little feet and delicate ankles stuck out from the warmth. Mister, my cat, was snuggled in the curl of her legs with his head resting contentedly on the bend of her knee. The three of them made me feel a bit jealous. They looked so comfortable. Asleep and free from her worries, the young woman looked significantly younger than she did last night. The weight that seemed to press her into a tight ball was gone in her slumber. The lines of worry and stress were missing from her face. She looked innocent and sweet. Like someone who should be fending off fraternity brothers at some drunken college party and not like someone who tore heads off vampires in graveyards. I sighed. Thomas was right. Jail bait.
I frowned. Maybe I wouldn't be getting spaghetti and meatballs anytime soon.
Mouse opened his eyes to acknowledge my presence. His tail thumped happily on the floor but he didn't move from his comfy spot. It suddenly struck me as a very protective position. If anything dangerous came through my front door, it would have needed to go through him and his fangs to get the sleeping girl. Fleetingly, I wondered what made my dog attach himself so fiercely to someone we just met. It made me scowl again. I really needed to discover what she was.
I'll be the first to admit that patience isn't my strongest suit. I'm more of a club or spades kinda guy. Anyway, I wanted answers about my unexpected house guest and I had a foolproof way of getting some of the information. It might not be the most pleasant but it would give me some truth. I closed my eyes and opened myself to the magic of my Sight. When I opened my eyes, I could not help but gasp. My knees shook and I found myself clutching at the wall behind me in order to keep upright. Vaguely, I felt Thomas' hand steady me and heard him talking but I couldn't understand anything he was saying. The words were just a jumble of sound kinda like the buzz of summer insects.
Finally tearing my eyes from the vision asleep on my couch, I slammed my lids shut and fought to lock the power away. Without a word, I fled into my bedroom and sunk onto my bed. I felt tears coursing down my cheeks while an uncontrollable urge to laugh hysterically tickled my throat. Once seen with Sight, a vision cannot be forgotten and I wasn't sure if seeing Buffy was a blessing or a curse. The sight tore at my soul.
"What was that?" Thomas questioned softly as he hesitantly moved into the shadowed room. He joined me on the bed and sad beside me like he thought I needed the support. I guess I looked the way I felt. Utterly unnerved. Not my normal state of being so it must have put Thomas on edge too.
I lifted my head and allowed a painful chuckle to escape.
"She's glorious," I stated in a thoroughly awestruck tone. "Like all three Knights of the Cross rolled into one tiny little package only instead of existing for a few thousand years it is like her power has existed from the dawn of time."
"Well, that's a good thing, right?" Thomas pressed. His expression conveyed how confused he was by my description. Maybe he thought beholding a Chosen Warrior of God was an easy thing. Being Thomas, he didn't avoid pressing his point of confusion. If there is one thing my brother excels at besides attracting women, it was being blunt. "So then why the freak out?"
I ran my fingers through my already sleep messed hair.
"She's the most glorious thing I have ever seen but at the same time, the most horrific. She shines like a holy warrior but at the same time, it is like everything that makes her glorious has been ripped from the center of her being. I imagine that's what the Fallen would look like after losing their place in Heaven. Only its worse because it feels to me like it wasn't by choice. At least the Denarians chose to leave paradise."
"A bit simplistic, but strangely accurate," a flat voice from the doorway to my bedroom stated.
It must have been comical the way Thomas and I instantly snapped our attention towards the little blonde leaning on the door jam with Mouse pressed up against her hip and her hand resting gently on his head. Our synchronized movement pulled the smallest hint of a smile from Buffy's lips.
For a few heartbeats we all just stared at each other.
Awake, the innocence of sleep was gone from my guest's face. In its place was the world wearied despair and sadly knowledgeable eyes that had made me think she was so much older than she most likely was. For some reason, my chest felt tight in response to the perceived loss. Again, I had to wonder why I felt so strongly for this young woman I only just met. It made me feel uncomfortable and a bit scared. Not that I was going to admit that to anyone or anything.
Thomas sighed.
"Do you want spaghetti or lasagna," he casually inquired as he rose gracefully from his seat with a sleekness that reminded me of a cat. All confidence and smooth motions.
Buffy watched his movements warily. It was easy to notice her muscles tense as if she wasn't sure if Thomas was a friend or a foe. Either way, she seemed to recognize that he was something other than human and didn't take her eyes off him. She reminded me of a soldier who had survived not only too many battles but possibly too many wars. Alert and paranoid that everyone was a potential enemy. Tension seemed to roll like a silent and invisible host in the room and every one of us floundered in it.
At her side, Mouse whined and leaned more heavily against her body and she absently caressed his head. She offered him comfort without a thought. It seemed natural to her but I wasn't sure if she actually felt the desire to continue to give of herself or if it was habit. Was it possible that she had given so much that it was a learned response? An acceptance that she had to keep giving even though her heart was not in it. Even though she had nothing left to give.
In horror, I likened it to when a body died. The nails and hair kept growing as if still alive but there was no hint of life remaining. I could see Buffy continuing to give even though she was in essence dead inside.
"Spaghetti," I answered to cover my morbid thoughts. "But maybe we should see who owes who."
I stood and offered Buffy what I hoped was an encouraging smile.
"How old are you, Buffy?"
She tilted her head slightly as if surprised by the question. I guess she expected something a bit more off the wall than simply being asked her age.
"Twenty. I'll be twenty-one in January."
Holy Cow, she was just a kid. A kid should never have the expression in their eyes. Covering the new blow in my gut, I nudged Thomas with my elbow.
"See not jail bait," I stated with a lopsided grin.
Thomas snorted.
"Not legal to drink," he smartly replied as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Buffy stared at the two of us for a heartbeat.
"I take it you're siblings?" she asked in a tone that indicated she figured she had to be correct.
We both froze. Our relationship was not something shared with the general populous. Only those we both trusted with our lives and the lives of each other knew. It wasn't a very long list. Like one hand with fingers to spare long.
"Why would you say that?" I countered in an attempt to cover.
I guess I wasn't very convincing. She just shrugged.
"You act like it. And the jaw lines and noses help."
Instead of confirming or denying her claim, I asked if she was hungry. I thought I had some eggs and bread that were still edible. Or some spaghetti-Os. I knew I had a couple cans of those in the cupboard. Maybe even some beef ravioli. Given how damn underfed she looked, I doubted she would complain over the lack of gourmet fair.
Fifteen minutes later, the three of us were seated around my table. I was right. Buffy hadn't balked at the offer of eggs and toast. In fact, she was doing a fine job of matching me fork for fork of the fluffy yellow goodness accented with peppers, onions and cheese. She had turned her nose up a bit at the Coca Cola and asked if I had a diet one. Thomas had just shaken his head, opened the can and poured it into a glass before informing her that she could use the calories. Her green eyes had snapped with annoyance but she drank the soda.
All through the meal, Buffy kept stealing glances at Thomas. Not that women don't normally look at him repeatedly. With his looks and charm, it was to be expected. So Buffy kept looking at my brother and then glancing back at her meal. It was just that she didn't seem to find him attractive. It was more like she sensed he was Other and was trying to gauge if she was going to need to tear off his head. Since most of the time, I like my brother, I tried to think of something to put her at ease.
Buffy and Thomas beat me to the punch.
"What exactly are you?" Buffy finally asked after swallowing her last bite of scrambled eggs.
Thomas practically leered at the blonde.
"Vampire... You?"
Thomas' response made Buffy chuckle.
"No, seriously," she pressed. She obviously thought he was kidding. "What are you?"
The blonde nodded towards me and explained that she realized I was a mage or sorcerer or some such thing but she couldn't get a feel for him.
My brother's grin grew evilly.
"I am quite serious, sweetheart. I'm a vampire," he assured her seductively. His eyes slipped from gray to silver and Mouse stood from his position beside Buffy's chair. He growled. My dog actually growled at my brother. What was up with that?
"Thomas," I warned sharply as I watched Buffy's eyes narrow to thin slits.
"Not a vampire," she repeated. She tapped her chest. "You have a heartbeat."
"White Court not Black," Thomas replied as he drew more on his vampiric nature. He practically glowed with power and Buffy just stared at him indifferently. It was as if his power rolled over her skin with no affect.
I pushed my chair back and stood. I mentally cussed that my staff was still in the car. I was fast thinking I might need it. The situation was escalating way too fast for me to call a time out to outfit myself in my proper uniform. When Thomas shifted in his chair, it was too late. Mouse and Buffy moved at the same time. Both were a blur that left even Thomas at his best looking sluggish. I blinked. One moment Buffy and Mouse were on one side of the room. The next, Thomas was on the ground with Mouse on his chest growling right in his face and Buffy was crouched beside him with the knife from the sink that I had used to chop onions and tomatoes for my eggs pressed against my prone brother's neck.
"What are you," Buffy demanded again as anger and frustration seemed to boil off her. This was not the wounded young woman. This was the warrior that decimated a scourge of Black Court vamps with no warning, weapons or hell, even any clothes.
"Vam-Pire," Thomas responded slowly as if he were speaking to a small child who obviously wouldn't understand regular speech. "Now what are you?"
Buffy grinned although it seemed more like a feral snarl.
"Vampire Slayer," she responded smoothly.
"Buffy, please give me the knife," I requested as I slowly moved towards the three figures on my kitchen floor. I watched as Mouse shifted subtly so that Buffy had to compensate to keep her balance and I realized that part of the dog's attacking Thomas might have been his way of protecting him. I suspected that if Mouse had not already had my brother on the ground that Buffy would have put him there in a significantly less gentle manner. I am perpetually impressed with the intelligence of my dog. Sometimes, I think he may be smarter than everyone else in the room.
"Buffy, please. No one is going to hurt you. I promise," I practically begged.
"But he's lying and tried to mojo me," Buffy responded suspiciously. She darted her eyes from Thomas to glare at me. When she shifted her attention, I noticed Mouse lick Thomas on the face which made my brother relax ever so slightly. I think the dog was apologizing but I needed to keep my attention on the deadly girl with the knife instead of the bizarre behaviors of my pooch.
I took another step towards the self proclaimed Vampire Slayer and held my hand out. I was hoping that she really didn't want to hurt Thomas and that she might be willing to give me the benefit of the doubt since I hadn't done anything to hurt her yet.
"Buffy, please? He isn't lying. He is a vampire."
"But..."
"Remember, Oz, right. Dancing scarecrows, cowardly lions and flying monkeys. Things are gonna be different."
Buffy straightened from her crouch. She flipped the knife expertly in her hand until the blade was pinched between her fingers. It was a move I would have been hard pressed to perform even with one of Murphy's perfectly weighted throwing knives let alone my badly worn and unbalance paring knife. She offered me the handle which I took with relief.
"I think there were flying monkeys at one of the school plays," she admitted with a confused frown as she backed slowly across the room.
I didn't laugh at the thought of real flying monkeys. There was nothing funny about flying monkeys and I didn't want Buffy to think I was laughing at her either. Instead, I took another step and nudged my small horse of a dog off my idiot brother's chest and offered him a hand up. Mouse immediately trotted over to Buffy and butted her in the hip until she moved out of the kitchen.
"Remind me not to do that again," he muttered as he wiped dog drool off his face.
"I don't know," I replied as I bumped him on the shoulder on my way into my living room. "It's kinda interesting seeing some pretty little thing hand you your ass for once."
Thomas huffed indignantly before stomping into the living room and tossing himself onto the couch in a bit of a sulk. Despite his petulance, my brother relaxed into the seat with a grace that made him look like he was just waiting for someone to come and fawn all over him. Or possibly take his picture for some woman's magazine.
Instead of joining him on the couch, I dropped to the floor to be on the same level of my house guest who had settled in front of the slowly dying fire and was cooing to my dog as she rubbed his head. Mister jumped down from his perch on the top of the couch and rubbed his head against my shoulder until I offered him some scratches under his chin and around his ears.
"So maybe we can try this again. This time without the violence and posturing."
Buffy agreed and Thomas grunted so I figured we were all on the same page.
"So, I'm a wizard and Thomas really is a vampire. A White Court vampire. Not like the dead corpse vamps we killed last night. Those were Black Court vampires. Thomas... um... he's more of an incubus than a bloodsucker."
Buffy's eyes traveled over Thomas once more.
"So he is a lust bunny?" she asked with a quirk of her eyebrow that made me think she just might be teasing a bit.
"Yeah... sorta," I agreed with an encouraging smile. I then asked her what a Vampire Slayer exactly was. Buffy's hand momentarily paused in its ministrations on Mouse's fur but resumed its duties after she began to talk. She explained that where she lives that there is a Slayer. A Chosen One whose duty it is to fight against the forces of evil.
"Vampire Slayer is actually kind of a misnomer," she explained. "Yeah, I stake lots of vamps but I also get forced into facing all manner of other supernatural ickies. Wicked witches, over-sized bugs who eat my teachers, nightmares brought to life by kids in a coma. And that was just my first year at Sunnydale High School. I got to move onto demonic politicians, demon-human cyborgs, the US military, and hell gods before all was said and done."
"Wait a minute... high school?" I stammered. "How old did you become the Slayer?"
"Fifteen."
"Damn," muttered Thomas as he leaned forward with a expression that I think might have been pity on his face. I suspected I had a similar one on my own.
"Wait a minute, you defeated a god?" Thomas asked. Now he looked utterly awestruck.
Buffy shrugged. It was obvious she didn't want to talk about it and I wasn't about to push for details. The shuttered expression was back on her face and I somehow doubted we stood a chance of prying loose any more information on the subject.
"So do you have any idea how you got here?" I asked in hopes of getting other answers that might help.
Again, she shrugged but blushed which immediately reminded me of what she was obviously doing right before she was forced across realities. I guess she wouldn't have realized if anything else was going on. She had obviously been a bit preoccupied with whoever Spike was.
I mentioned that we might need to try some research if we stood a chance of sending Buffy home again. Thomas groaned and suddenly remembered that he needed to be somewhere else. It was very pressing and he promised to bring some Italian by when he had a chance. As he escaped out the door, I shook my head. I wouldn't be seeing him for a couple days at least. However long he figured it would take for me to figure out how to help my dimension hopping house guest would be a good estimate of how long he would be gone. Research was not my brother's thing.
Good thing I had the perfect companion for helping with the research. I glanced at Buffy and grinned. Even sitting on the floor with my dog, dressed in my clothing cast offs, and her hair all disheveled, the blonde was beautiful. Bob was gonna love her.
