A/N: Thank you for all of your feedback! I really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this :D
Chapter Eleven
Ethan had them do grunt work first, keeping them entirely oblivious as to their true role in his plan. He sent them on smaller projects to pass the time until they were needed. A little petty theft here and some surveillance there. Believing they were indeed helping, the three boys were more than happy to lend a hand. In the end, they would be lending much more than that.
Meanwhile, Ethan worked on his own, making sure that he had everything in order for when the time came.
The Rigonauld Demon.
It was behind nearly half of history's bloodiest riots, although most humans were unaware. Times of unrest were its breeding ground, but it could be summoned, too. Few supplies were needed, and most if not all could be found in Sunnydale. He just needed a few more days to ensure his preparedness, and then he would be ready. It would be time.
Buffy stood in front of the sink, working on a pile of dishes when Dawn yelled her name repeatedly. There was a note of panic in it that made her stomach flip, and she dropped the plate immediately, running downstairs with a number of gruesome images flashing in her mind – each more horrifying than the last. When she reached Dawn – her chest heaving and pulse racing – she found her sister perfectly alive staring at a dripping pipe. Dawn looked at her and said, "Buffy, the pipe is leaking!"
"That's what you yelled my name for?" Buffy said, breathing hard.
"Well, yeah," Dawn said. "Leaking pipes seem pretty bad. I don't want the ceiling collapsing or something."
Spike had been upstairs, spending the odd day at their home, and he rushed down after Buffy, hair singeing from an open window he flew past. He looked between the two Summers women and stammered, "Are you hurt? What happened?"
"We're fine," Buffy said, giving Dawn a look. "She was just worried about this pipe."
"What'd you yell bloody murder for, lil bit? Scared me half to death, figuratively speaking."
"I didn't notice this before," Buffy said, her pulse returning to normal. "I'll call a plumber this afternoon."
"Oh no you're not," Spike said, stepping past her and beginning to examine the pipes.
"What do you mean I'm not?" Buffy said, spinning toward him with her hands on her waist. "Leaking pipes are generally not a good thing. And I have no idea what to do with one."
"Yeah, well, I do."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. Shouldn't be too difficult."
"Spike, it's not that I don't want you helping here, but...I don't want you helping here. You're not a plumber and-"
"Pipe down, will you? I'm trying to work here."
"You really know how to fix pipes?" Buffy asked, disbelief evident in her voice.
"I know a few things about 'em, yeah," he said off-handedly.
"How? How do you know a few things about fixing pipes? You live in a crypt."
"Live as long as me, pet, and you learn a lot of things. Your problem is some corrosion. Just need to calk the thing a bit and it'll be good as new."
"Calk it?" Buffy asked, perplexed. Spike smirked and returned, "Not in front of lil sis, pet."
Buffy ignored his lewd comment and said, "I think I'll still call the plumber. Have them check it, too."
"I'm telling you, Buffy, you don't need a plumber," Spike said. "I just told you what's wrong, and I didn't charge you two hundred dollars that you can't afford."
Buffy's eyes widened and began to say, "How-"
"I hear things," Spike interrupted. When she gave him a look he said, "Evil thing here, pet. I eavesdrop."
He was right that she couldn't afford the two hundred dollars. Giles had sat her down the day before and told her about their financial troubles. Joyce left her money after she passed, but most of that went toward her funeral. The remaining bit ironically enough was used for her own funeral a few months later.
"You really can fix it?" Buffy asked.
"I wouldn't offer if I couldn't."
"Alright," Buffy said. She vaguely recalled that Xander worked as a handyman and added, "But I'm having Xander work with you. Two sets of hands are better than one, right?
"What? Buffy-"
"No arguing," she said firmly. "That's how it is. Either you work with Xander or I'm pulling a bank job and getting that plumber."
The arguing was constant. Even upstairs Buffy and the rest of the gang could hear Xander and Spike bickering as they worked.
"That's not the right wrench," Xander said loudly.
"Seems right enough to me," Spike returned. "It works, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, but it's not the right one. It's taking you twice as long to do that. If you just got her peroxide head out of your butt and used the right one it-"
"I don't want to use the right one," Spike ground out. "This one is fine! Would you get off my back?"
"I'm not on your back," Xander threw back. "I'm not even remotely near your back!"
"How long do you think it'll be until they kill each other?" Willow asked, taking a sip of her coffee. Her, Tara and Buffy sat around the kitchen table, listening to the free floorshow.
"Spike has the advantage because there are no windows down there," Tara mused. "Although I'm not up to snuff on the amount of possible stakes."
"They will play nice," Buffy said. She frowned when Spike bellowed a string of curse words, closely followed by Xander's equally perverse response. "Or as nicely as those two can play."
"I still can believe he agreed," Willow said.
Tara grinned. "Which one."
Willow laughed and replied, "Good point. Both, I guess. But more Spike than Xander."
"Yeah, how did you do it?" Tara asked, the two girl shifting their gaze to Buffy. She shrugged and said, "I threatened a bank heist."
"You threatened a bank heist?"
"Spike didn't want me to go to a plumber because we all know I can't afford it right now, and while he has no qualms with stealing money, my offering to do it was apparently too much. He agreed immediately."
That hadn't exactly been the case. First he fought it. Then, when it was clear she wouldn't budge, he whined and complained until she threatened to stake him. It was an empty threat, but enough to make Spike shut up.
There was a large crashing noise bellow them and Buffy winced.
"Agreement or not, I better go check on them," she said. She rose from her seat and went downstairs, not the least surprised to see Xander and Spike nose-to-nose, Xander grasping the top of Spike's t-shirt.
"Now, what did I say about playing nicely?" Buffy said.
Xander let go of Spike, but not before imparting a subtle shove that did little more than make Spike irritated.
"He started it," Xander said.
"Yeah, I don't doubt he did," Buffy said, sending Spike a look. "But I don't really care who started it. I just want the pipe fixed." Spike made a face and she pointed at him accusingly as she said, "Don't you start. I offered to go for a plumber."
"Plumbers always rip you off," Xander said.
Spike turned toward him and said, "That's exactly what I told her!" He looked back at Buffy. "See, I told you!"
"Wow, so you're in agreement about something," Buffy said. "Let's take this momentary positive glow and apply it to the work at hand." She started up the stairs and then turned back. "Also, lunch is in twenty minutes."
"Did you get those ham sandwiches with the special cheese?" Xander asked.
Buffy nodded. "Yep. I also got some A negative for you, Spike. So, no complaining."
Spike grinned wide. "Would I ever complain?"
"I'm not answering that. Okay, back to work boys."
Ethan half-listened while that annoying Warren twerp went on and on about some sort of heist that even James Bond would have trouble pulling off. All the while he continued to nod his head, pretending to be following each inane twist with interest, because he knew Warrens' type, and attention was like water and food. He would wither away without it. Or even worse, revolt. He couldn't have that, as the time was near when the countless hours spent with the three dimmest lights he'd ever encountered would be made worthwhile, and he wouldn't risk mucking anything up.
"That is quite the plan," Ethan said, interrupting when Warren went for a breath. "However, I think your efforts are better placed elsewhere."
"It could bring in some extra cash, though," Warren pressed. "Not to mention, the glory."
"Oh, the glory," Andrew warbled.
"You will have enough glory at the end of all of this," Ethan said, smiling placidly at the three boys. "Don't you worry. I want you to keep a low profile for these next few days, though. As…wonderful…as your plan sounds, there are larger ones in store for you three."
"You keep saying that, but I've yet to see anything," Warren said, his voice hard.
"Do I not seem like a man of my word? I gave you the money, didn't I?"
The three boys nodded, Warren grudgingly doing so last. Ethan wanted nothing to more than to reach out and snap the insolent boy's neck.
"You can trust me," Ethan continued. "And trust that at the close of our adventure, there will not be a soul in this universe that does not tremble in fear at what you bring forth."
A/N: A bit of fluff and plot development. Hope you enjoyed! Leave me your thoughts :D