Chapter 5 Notes: The plot comes together, Slayer power is expressed, and problems are dealt with as needed.
Note: Due to the short timeframe allotted for writing this challenge, the story's geography is likely wonky. Notably, the location of standing stones in Great Britain is probably different from what's implied here and I'm sure that the flight down to the Cotswolds takes more time in reality.
Chapter 5: Into the Blue Again
Lydia focused on Buffy with eyes that were especially wide behind her glasses. "Of the two figures from the prophecy that we can assume have been eliminated, it seems you were instrumental in each of their demise. You are somehow entwined in this prophecy, although there is not an obvious reference to a Slayer within the text."
"Ugh, I can't tell you how little I want to be Prophecy Girl again."
Looking over, she saw the other Watcher, Toomey, lean his slim form toward the bound prophesy pages. At an awkward angle that allowed him to avoid touching Spike, he flipped pages to a different passage and began reading.
Spike smirked at the man's balding head in a way that telegraphed to Buffy that he was reviewing all of the scary and obnoxious things he could do. Then, with a far-too-innocent smile, he caught Buffy's gaze. Poor vampire, having to be so well behaved among so many people.
She knew that, not too long ago, she'd have nursed inner fury that he wasn't thinking and acting like a good human. But then, shortly before they'd fought the First Evil at the Sunnydale hellmouth, she'd realized that the whole point was that he was working hard to be a good demon. And how had Angel described Spike? Once he sets his sights on a goal he doesn't stop.
She reached her hand to his shoulder, smirking a reply to his impish grin. How she'd fought, so pointlessly, against these honestly sweet moments.
Toomey looked up, catching Buffy's eyes. Braving her visible irritation at being interrupted, the lean Watcher cleared his throat before speaking. "If I may venture to say, of the three remaining figures the prophecy identifies as key, we believe the personage known as the Immortal may be an avatar of the chimera that your paramour has quite descriptively termed, a 'big griffin-lion thing'."
Spike managed to convey smug, devilish amusement with a mere twitch of his scarred brow.
Taking over from her fellow Watcher, Lydia explained, "That identification is a minor stretch on our part, but his coat of arms prominently features such a creature. Beyond that, if we assume that the epithet 'the Immortal' is meaningful, it's interesting to note that a Roman scroll attributed to a follower of Pliny the Elder tell of a follower of Apollo who came to Rome from Alexander's old empire bearing enough gold that he successfully mingled with the patricians in the Palatine. This figure styled himself as 'Apollinaris', said he was immortal, and used the sigil of a griffin."
"And that's cool because…?" Buffy was remembering how, in her younger years, she'd been rapt with attention while Giles' had shared his research with the Scoobies. These days, she was rather more jaded to stories involving immortality and mythic monsters who'd come to life. Mostly she just wanted to jump to the part of the story where she grabbed an armful of weapons and beat the crap out of the fabled whoosit and made it just another Tuesday.
Toomey nodded. "The part of the text I've flipped to, here, indicates that the griffin chimera will somehow instigate the confrontation about which the prophecy warns."
Spike leaned forward to scan the text while the balding Watcher continued speaking. "It speaks of the three figures— the griffin, the phoenix, and the leviathan— coming together. That said, the identity of the remaining two figures has remained murky, at best. But now, gIven your own… ehm, resurrection, I wonder if you may be affiliated somehow with the figure described as a phoenix. In terms of the history relayed in this text, it does seem to be a force that is capable of choosing light or dark based on the situation. Actually all three figures seem inclined to choose sides based on the situation."
Her brows knit together, mimicking the way her mind was busy interleaving threads of information into a complete thought. "Wait, I remember this from school, and boy would Willow be proud. But anyway, doesn't a phoenix regenerate from fire and ashes?" Seeing Toomey's slow, affirmative nod, she added, "Then I kinda don't qualify, but I wonder if Spike isn't the phoenix."
Lydia glanced at Spike. "Were you perhaps at both the death of the prophesied snake and dragon?"
"The dragon… yes. Was around in the general sense when the Slayer, here, took care of a supersized demon cobra that Gloficus sent, but wasn't around when Wilkins came to his demonic, pyromaniac end. That's Buffy's thing."
"Hey," Buffy objected.
"Didn't say that 'pyromaniac' was a bad word, did I?" Her vampire smirked from where he was still seated at the Watchers' table. "You always point out how fast and loose I play with fire, my own self. Besides, you're the one who admitted you like lighting fires, yeah?"
Toomey cleared his throat. "Well as I said, the identity of the phoenix is murky, although clearer than the remaining figure. The problem we always have with these types of things is that we don't have much information regarding extra-dimensional demons or even about the Old Ones from our own dimension."
Spike put his hands on the table and stood. "Having met a couple demon god-kings in their earthly shells, I think they're not so fussed about looking like they did millennia ago."
As Spike took his place at her side, she said, "So, to recap: Niccolo the Immortal may be our big bad and we've probably pissed him off and used my face to do it. Not too long after that pissage, I returned to the Council at roughly the same time a big cloud of magic-whammy descended over Great Britain and probably also sidelined one of my big guns, Willow. And it seems like badness is aimed at the entrance to the underground cave where ancient, Old One demons are parked. Is that about it?"
"Well, that does seem like the highlights, yes," Toomey agreed.
"Excellent. Sounds like a job for some Slayers." She turned to leave, focused on what needed to be done. She needed to talk with Faith, who'd become somewhat of a sounding board over the past year. She needed her scythe. And right now, she needed her lieutenant at her side. Sensing that the aforementioned lieutenant hadn't yet moved, she looked back toward him.
Spike was indeed motionless, gazing at the Watchers from the corners of his eyes. It was one of those moments when he was suspended between acting human and being a vampire. With a shiver that probably nobody but she would spot, he softened his expression until he was no longer a wolf in seductive sheep's clothing. With a quiet lift of his lips, he said, "Much obliged. The Slayer will know how to put the pieces together to make a plan."
"We're here to help however we can," Lydia said. Then, bravely, she extended her arm until her fingers touched the vampire's arm. "Please do let us know if there's something you need."
After another moment of uncanny stillness, he nodded. After he turned to follow her, Buffy nodded as well. Then they both left the room on their way toward the front entrance to the Council's manor house.
Before they got far, they spotted Vi trotting toward them. "Oh great, I was hoping I'd find you." She waved them toward one of the Slayers' conference rooms while she continued talking. "Since something oooh-oooh-mysterious is going on, I've been checking in with the Slayers in the field and reviewing recent patrol reports. And you know, I'm really impressed with how the younger ones are good about putting in the details the next morning."
She turned her charmingly awe-filled face toward them as she stopped at a set of kitchen tables that had been put into service as a work area. Without looking at the notes scattered on the surface, she relayed that Daphne, Aadhavi, Josie, and Marie M. in the field all reported seeing gatherings of vamps and human-like demons at sites of various, smaller stone circles that dotted the island. While Buffy struggled to put faces to the Slayers' names, Vi explained that Stonehenge was likely too well occupied or guarded to have been included in the demonic incursion.
"Those places have power, yeah?" Spike commented while he began flipping through the notes and books on Vi's table.
"They do," Vi replied with her signature mix of innocence and enthusiasm. "And hold that thought. Before we get to that, I also found out that some of the field Slayers haven't been heard from for over a day. It's not unheard of for one or two to kinda 'drop out' for a day or so, but it's suspicious, you know?"
Buffy nodded. "I know. It's good you're digging into this, but why didn't we know this until you started to look?"
"I guess we think the Watchers are reviewing reports for intel, but they're stretched thin. So they probably think that we're communicating realtime, maybe by super-magic girl power, developing our own intel in the downtime while we braid our hair and sharpen our stakes." She shrugged with an abbreviated eye roll.
Just as Buffy was about to comment on the great craptastic-ness that the Council still seemed to be, Vi jumped in to say, "But anyway, back to Spike's point, get this. Missy suggested we map out the incidents over the past couple of days. And how cool is it to have a former police trainee as a Slayer?" She reached under Spike's hands to shuffle the various documents off to the side, revealing a map. "See where we put the dots? They form a big ring."
"Huh," Buffy practically bumped heads with Spike as she inspected the map. "And lookie here, it's the Cots are Wild place. Why are the cots wild? Is it that they have crazy beds? Why do they call it that, anyway?"
"It's Cotswolds, pet. It's a long story. We'll pick it up later. Point is, it's more evidence that matches what Lady Tweed and her minion just told us relative to that prophecy they're humping in their office."
"Spike, eww. First, they're not 'humping' the prophecy. Maybe just stroking more than is decent in public, but still. Then second, Toomey isn't a minion."
"Just call 'em as see 'em, love."
She snorted because, honestly, he wasn't particularly wrong. And, it was so not the point.
Between them, Buffy and Spike gave an overview of what they'd just heard from the Watchers. As they spoke, Vi practically started vibrating with energy. "We have to get everyone together and make a plan! We need a living room like you had in Sunnydale."
"Hold for a mo', pet," Spike halted the energetic redhead's spring-loaded trajectory toward the door. "Think Buffy already has half a plan. Best be sure to keep to that, yeah?"
Buffy's lips lifted in gratitude for his faith, still so strong after so much trial and error. "It's honestly more like an insistent drumbeat of an instinct looking for details. But the main point is that we need to get to the Wild Cots place…."
"The Cotswolds," Spike murmured.
"Yeah, there. We have to stop Niccolo of the Immortal pain-in-the-butt fame from doing something, you know, apocalyptic."
"That's what we do." Vi squared her shoulders. "Let's go." As she spoke, a groaning pop was audible from all around them and then the lights went out. "Oh for heavens sake. If we had any Slayers who were previously electricians, I swear the power would be fixed by now. Oh, oops, I probably shouldn't have said that out loud." Her already rosy cheeks bloomed as a blush overtook her.
"You still have that lovely, anemic ball of vampire death in the sky," Spike pointed out. "Been dodging the blasted thing all day. Won't be a problem for you lot until nightfall."
"Look at you being all practical, while meanwhile I'm ready to lead the picket line on strike to demand a decent power generator," Vi snickered.
Shooing them along, Buffy said, "The picket line isn't a bad idea." Clearly there was something off kilter here at the Council if glass-half-full Vi was on the verge of temper tantrum-age.
They made it as far as the big common room, where they were spotted by Gwennyth, the slightly portly, on-call witch. She stepped away from the cluster of other women from the Devon coven who'd arrived overnight. In cars, as the subtly dry Gwennyth had pointed out to the assembled Watchers and Slayers whose imaginations had likely offered up bippity-bop flashes of light or maybe even brooms as the likely conveyances. Buffy found her humor to be a delightful reminder that witches were part of the real world they all inhabited.
As though proving her point, those same witches were now gathered around a cell phone on speaker mode, talking in French. Buffy still was il grand stink at French, but she was pretty sure multi-lingual vampire ears at her side were picking up the entire dialog. Oh, and now they'd switched to German. What the heck? She couldn't wait until she was back to being flummoxed by Latin and Sumerian-whatever.
Bustling over, the witch could barely contain her excitement. "Fortuitous timing. I have good news. Willow Rosenberg and her father are safe at our sister coven near Amiens in France." With a sly grin, she added, "I gather that Mr. Rosenberg didn't take to the transition as well as his wife, which is quite a curious thing. After all, he was warned before we opened the portal to them and he's still in his own body. Willow's mother is clearly from a resilient female line."
"That's one way of putting it," Buffy said as she began turning to continue on her way to find Faith.
The witch plucked delicately at the Slayer's sleeve, stopping her while she said, "But wait, what's equally important is that we're fairly certain we can reverse the spell that placed body swap. In fact, we'd like to try it if we can find Miss Rosenberg's mother. Dame Clarisse and Sylvie from Amiens and a few from our circle may be strong enough to handle the spell while threading it through the magical damping spell that's covering Great Britain."
"I thought you tried that before," Buffy interrupted the gushing woman's, well, gush.
"Yes, yes, but since then we've found out something new based on the discovery that the spell seems to affect Willow's maternal line. You see, a distant cousin named Petra Imber, a hedgewitch from Dusseldorf, was in a plane waiting to take off for home at Heathrow. At which point she found herself in the body of her travel companion, her grandmother who was born Monika Abendroth. According to Willow, Abendroth was Willow's mother's maiden family name, and there are Imbers back in her line as well."
"Okaaaay," Buffy forced herself to stay put, knowing the woman wasn't done. She felt Spike's steadying hand against her back and leaned slightly into it. It was as though she and her vampire alternated patience like a revolving door, so now it was his turn to be the part of their couple who was all with the un-fidgetiness.
Eyes glimmering, the witch continued her tale. "After their plane landed in Germany, a coven there used a very old mirror spell in their possession to return Petra and Monika to their rightful bodies. It worked where ours didn't because it includes an element of physical 'begats' that more modern spells omit. Since it worked, our coven wants to try it. "
"Okay, so what are we waiting for?" Did she have to put everything in motion herself? Well, of course she didn't, as Gwennyth demonstrated with her next words.
"I know the feeling, dear. If you happen to find Willow's mother Sheila before we do, please send her our way. We need each coven in the spell to have physical contact with their swapped Rosenberg for it to work. If it still doesn't, due to that blasted magic damper, we'll have to figure out a secure way to send her to Amiens. I've been informed that the Council has a big, supernaturally cloaked helicopter secreted beyond the old stables. Military surplus or some such thing."
"We have a helicopter?" Buffy said, glancing at Spike and Vi, who had both started to smile. The seed of a plan was starting to take root.
"Did we know this?" she asked Vi.
"Not until now," the redheaded Slayer replied.
"Huh." Buffy squinted as she filed that information away. The Watchers seemed to be falling into the old, paternalistic habit of keeping things from the Slayers. So many things.
But not all the Watchers, she thought with a ping of gratitude for Lydia and Toomey. And not the witches either, apparently. "Well, thanks for that, and for working to get Willow back. We'll send Sheila back if we find her at the school."
With that, they finally made it out the front door, only to remember that it was still daytime outside. Biting her lip, Buffy glanced between Spike and the portion of the drive leading to the stables and carriage house, which had been reconstituted into space for the Slayer school.
"Not to worry, love. You're familiar with my habit of running around during the day with my duster over my head."
"I do, but I just got you back. You'll forgive me if I'm nervous about you catching fire." As she said that, a child Buffy hadn't noticed before barreled out of the manor door, clutching a thick, woven blanket.
"Dames Gwennyth and Wanda said to bring this out for you because it's sunny." The youngster's voice lifted up in a question, matching the motion of her arms as she lifted the item she carried toward Spike.
He took it from her with an almost courtly gesture. "Why that's right generous. You be sure to thank the ladies for me, yeah?"
"Yeah," the girl replied with a shy smile that revealed a couple of missing teeth. Then, with a half curtsy, she dashed back inside.
"Well, that's sorted then," Spike said while unfurling the blanket. All covered, he nodded toward the Slayers and then they both set off at a run toward the school.
As they reached the overhang in front of the main building, Andrew burst through the door from the other direction. Stopping in the doorway, he intoned, "The heroic triad arrives. Having vanquished the forces of evil itself, they now engage in training the next generation of heroes."
"Don't push me, Andrew." Buffy said in a voice that leaked the annoyance that had begun coursing under her skin since she'd returned to Council confines.
"What did I do?" Andrew with a mournful tone and sad eyes. It was a look he'd obviously practiced for years. He seriously had all the cheese he needed to go with that whine.
"Andrew, just… scoot. Skedaddle. Go." Vi attempted her own version of damage control, but it was too late.
Because Buffy had gotten to full Watcher-induced boil and Andrew happened to be the final straw on the boiling camel's back. Which didn't make sense when she tried to imagine it, but that didn't matter one little bit to her at the moment.
With a snarl in her voice, she said. "What did you do? What don't you do? You spend all your time narrating some fantasy version of what's going on around you, but don't reveal anything that's important. For example, you didn't tell me Spike was back. You knew it, you told Giles of all people, but you kept it from me, the head Slayer." And the woman who'd been falling deeper in love with Spike for years, which Willow had said everyone could see except for her.
With a deer in the headlights look, all Andrew managed to do was squeak while darting his eyes between Buffy, Vi, Spike, and the roadway beyond them that was his salvation.
Spike reached for her hand. "Love, we talked about this. Go easy on the lad. I told him not to tell anyone."
"And I was mad with you about that, too."
"Rightfully so. And I remember you haranguing me about it while you threatened Rona's witch friend to make sure she kept me from dusting all over again from my wounds. Bit confusing, that was, but you made your point. Anyhow, the boy here wasn't at fault. He was just trying to be loyal." Probably noticing her death-inducing glare, he added, "Well, loyal to me in that moment. And to the Watcher chain of command, yeah? You've even admitted he tends to male authority figures. Not saying he was right. Not saying I was right. But he wasn't trying to do harm."
"Fine," she replied with a snap. She hated when Spike took the winds out of her righteous sails. Well, no, she loved him for that too, but didn't entirely appreciate having to step down from pissitude to practical matters. Regardless, she was fully able to do it.
"Andrew, we're going to need the big helicopter in less than an hour. Make it happen."
God save her from idiots, because Andrew had come out onto the building's concrete entryway, looking at her like an eager puppy. "Can you say 'make it so'?" He practically squirmed as he spoke.
Spike extended his arm to smack the wriggling pest in the back of the head. "Remember who gave you that scar on your neck, yeah? Like the lady said, don't push her. Which means don't push me either, got it?"
"Yeah."
The waver in Andrew's voice as he said that single word made it obvious that he was actually struggling to truly agree. Buffy wasn't sure she'd ever understand him or even like him, but she took pity on his earnestness.
"Just go make sure the helicopter is ready for us, and we'll be square. Or even, or whatever. Got it?"
"I do and I will." His posture straightened; order accepted; mission underway. With a parting glance at her and Spike, he left them and began sprinting toward the main manor house.
As Buffy entered the school building, she heard herself muttering. "Sheesh, and I thought I had to go through the gauntlet when I only had the Scoobies and a house full of potentials to get in line."
Then, spotting Dawn sitting with Shannon, who was supposedly Sheila Rosenberg's minder for the day, she said, "Hi guys. Where's Willow's mom?"
Shannon looked shell-shocked, so Dawn took over. "Okay, scary development. Mrs Rosenberg is in the great room doing group dynamics and conflict resolution training."
"Seriously?" Buffy was starting to wonder if this was actually all a Slayer dream. It certainly was odd and random enough to be one. Spike's snorting laugh at her side gave her a clue that it wasn't a dream, just a day full of random wackiness.
Shannon finally gathered herself enough to explain further. "When we walked by the great room, we interrupted yet another fight between Nona and Mariam. And I guess Andrew tried to mediate it using Star Wars quotes, so they both pig-piled on him. A few of the other girls started getting into the fight. Sheila blew a gasket." She shook her head as though clearing it of the memory before adding, "You know, Willow can be pretty darned intimidating. But that intimidating apple did not fall far from the tree."
"Fine," she said, instructing Shannon to go retrieve Sheila from her unscheduled lecture. When the younger Slayer seemed hesitant, she added, "Remember that she's just a professor in Willow's body. Not a witch. Tell her it's urgent."
While that had been underway, Vi had gone in search of Faith. They hadn't yet returned when Willow's mom came storming down the hall with Shannon trotting behind her.
In an acerbic tone that Buffy had never heard come from Willow's mouth, her witchy friend's mother snapped, "Your Andrew is an idiot. Is he finally gone?"
"He's gone. And he is seriously not my Andrew."
"My Andrew is far better," Sheila mystifyingly commented with a sniff. "I can't wait until this journey of discovery is over and I can get back home."
"Well, possible good news on that front," Buffy said in her best cheerleadery, fake-peppy voice. "Gwennyth and her friends think they may have a way to speed that along. They need you back at the main building."
"Hmm." Sheila Rosenberg was visibly considering her options. "Well, I guess I was done with the session. The girls' usual instructor seems capable of carrying on with the exercises I outlined just now." Turning to Buffy, Willow's mother said, "Despite the fact that, as spirit guides you're confusing and as actual people you're insane… well, you all obviously care. So I'll just say that you need to figure out how to develop a shared ethic and emotional core for your charges, here."
"Shared whatsit?" Buffy replied, her attention more focused on her upcoming encounter with the Immortal than with whatever Willow's mom felt like sharing with her full-on hinkyness.
"Shared ethics," the woman repeated. "From what I understand, you've given them power that, at some of their ages and their developmental levels, is like the shortcut answer to all their problems. But they've been taken from their homes and cultures, and their power isn't fully wrapped in the soft skills that usually cultures try to convey before the big shift when entry into adulthood conveys power."
"Makes sense," Spike said, filling in for Buffy in the conversation department. "But they've got a mission, yeah? Saving the world from evil and whatnot. It's what gave their original cadre a true bond." He tilted his head toward Buffy to indicate whose cadre he was mentioning.
With an impatient sigh, Sheila replied, "The way I see it, someone here had a Classics education since this school's name, Laconia Academy, references the province where the Spartans lived. They had a structured and gender-segregated system of education that raised warriors, male and female, with the different roles they believed suitable."
"Your point?" Buffy interjected.
"My point is that you've taken all these girls out of their cultures' girlhood narratives so early that many of them are adrift. They each need something more than a sense of purpose at their emotional core. They need a foundational, shared set of values they can draw upon."
"I get what you're saying," Vi said as she approached along with Faith. "I'd be willing to talk with you more about your ideas after we get done with the current craziness. And we have a new Slayre named Adela who was working in Nairobi as a trainer at an NGO before she joined us, so maybe all three of us can come up with something?"
"I'd be amenable," Sheila Rosenberg acknowledged with a prim nod. "I'll assume you'll know how to find me when it's time. For now, since it sounds as though the strange, chanting ladies in the main building have a new path for my journey, let's go." She directed her eyes toward Shannon, summoning the Slayer to accompany her.
As Sheila led her taller Slayer companion back toward the Council's main building, Buffy snorted.
"Good talk," she said with an eye roll. Spike snorted, which released Vi's and Faith's laughter.
"Okay B, what's the sitch?" Faith wasted no time getting to business. It was something Buffy had learned to appreciate about her in their new-ish relationship as senior authority figures among so many newbie Slayers here and in the field.
"Another day, another prophecy," she replied with an arched brow that unintentionally echoed her vampire's expression. "The prophecy says that a bad guy, who Lydia and folks think is Niccolo the Immortal, is going to do something monumentally bad at… wait, I've got this… at the Cotswolds." She smiled in triumph, basking momentarily in the amused pride telegraphed by Spike's smirk.
She continued her explanation, saying, "There's not much detail, but we suspect the Willow-mom switcharoo and the magic smoosh-i-tude over Great Britain might be related. Also, Vi discovered this whole thing where vampires are guarding ancient stone circles that are like magic points forming a ring around the Cots place. Anyhow, long story short, we need to take the apocalypse-busting power that it us down there for what will probably be a big throw-down."
Faith rubbed her shoulder absent mindedly while she absorbed Buffy's spew-age. Then, after a moment of hesitation, she said, "Okay, I'll bite." She glanced at Spike with a provocative grin. "Okay, not as literally as him. But I gotta ask. Why the Cotswolds rather than the stone circles with vampires? Because that sounds like our thing, too."
"Too many of them. Too few of us. Besides, the prophecy that seems to identify Niccolo the so-called Immortal as a bad guy refers to the Cots place but not the stones."
Spike pinned the three Slayers before him with an uncharacteristically serious expression. "The Cotswolds contains one of the entrances to the Deeper Well, which contains hundreds, maybe thousands of true demons that were exiled from our world before human times. Anything that might release them is a danger to everything that humans and vampires know."
He shifted his gaze, catching Buffy's eyes. "Maybe even more important, Buffy feels it in her bones that the Cotswolds is where we need to go. In my experience, that feeling is what gets the Scoobies and other white hats the win."
"Works for me," Faith replied. "Big danger, Slayer ESP, fight to follow. Let's go to the armory downstairs to pick our fave weapons, and then vamoose."
It didn't take long before they were dashing back to the main manor house, weapons in hand. Along with a crossbow, stakes, and a short sword, Buffy felt the power of her scythe zing along her back. It was one of the best feelings she'd ever experienced. It was belonging at a level that only being with Spike managed to produce these days. Thinking of her companion, her lover, she peeked at him.
Well, she peeked at the running bundle of blanket and leather at her side. Under that protective covering, she knew he had a pair of swords, stakes, and a set of throwing stars that Spike had grabbed with glee from one of the weapons drawers. Vi and Faith followed, equally provisioned with classic Slayer weapons, plus a rifle with silver bullets because Vi apparently had been an Olympic-level sharp-shooter before being called. Who knew?
They'd reached the overhang in front of the old chauffeur's station, which was halfway between the school and the manor house, giving Spike a chance to flap at sparks on his bundled self. While he self-extinguished, Andrew appeared from the fields on the far side of the Manor house. Trotting over, he was proud as a peacock. Or maybe proud as some Star Wars geeky thing, but whatever. He was obviously a man with a mission involving achievement of the self-important variety.
"Reporting in," Andrew said with bravado. "Major Jones is available to pilot the helicopter. Well, he's retired but still likes being called Major. Anyway, he's fueling it now and says it'll be ready in under ten." Andrew's eyes gleamed as he spoke. "He's very British."
"Uh huh, great," Buffy replied vaguely while, speaking of 'being British', she watched Giles storm his way over to where they were standing.
"Buffy, this is irresponsible. I must object."
"I know, Giles. See Spike, I told you that you're a vampire and should stay inside all day instead of running around under the sun. Even Giles thinks it's irresponsible." Seeing her man's smirk and Giles' glower, she decided it was really too easy to get under her former mentor's skin. And eww, where did that expression come from?
"As you already know, I'm referring to your unilateral, half-baked idea to take a decidedly small fighting force to a large, natural parkland likely full of civilians on holiday. And, further, boldly commandeering the Council air transport, which is a troop transport and far larger than you'll need."
"Giles, we've gone over this before, most recently when I argued for Council help to mop up the LA apocalypse. I'm the senior Slayer. It's my calling and my duty to respond to demonic and apocalyptic danger. Besides, we're going to a place that features an opening into the graveyard of Old Ones. I have to assume that there aren't any families and retirees having picnics in an area that is probably hidden from so-called civilians and also probably humming with demon energy."
"You're going to the bloody Cotswolds, not to a demonic hot spot," Giles objected.
Spike's lips thinned as he sucked in his cheeks in a most vampiric fashion. "Got news, Watcher. One of the two openings to the Deeper Well that holds the Old Ones banished from the Earth is in the bloody Cotswolds," he echoed the Watcher's tone. "I know that because I've been there, haven't I? Was when we tried to keep the god king Illyria from killing that poor sweetling Fred Burkle and manifesting in this world. When, oh yeah, the bloody Council wouldn't lift a finger to help."
He took a deep breath. "I've been inside and it scared even me. If there's evil intent anywhere near the place, you want these brave champions there."
With a dark frown, Giles spat, "On the word of a vampire and the hunch of a Slayer, I don't support this. Come inside and we'll convene a full session to outline and plan a full action."
Buffy took a few deep breaths before replying. "Here's the thing, Giles. I no longer support you."
She let that hang for a moment in the air like the ringing of a bell. As her former Watcher's face took on a shade of red that couldn't be healthy, she continued. "I repeat: I'm the senior Slayer. I'm here with the other one. Remember what I told Travers? It's about power. I have it. We have it. You don't. At least not without us. Without us Slayers, you're pretty much just sitting around watching Masterpiece Theater. Remember?"
"That is absolutely uncalled for," Giles snapped.
She glanced covertly to her periphery. Vi and Faith stood at her side, arms crossed like ancient warriors standing in judgment. Spike was on her other side, a rock of support. Andrew had stepped backward from them all, but tellingly had not stepped to Giles' side. Giles was exposed in more ways than one.
"Here's the way forward," she said in all seriousness. "You're not in charge of the Slayers, you support us. So work on getting the electricity stable and the finances straightened out. Then collectively we need to work on who has what strengths and apply them where we need them. And we need to clarify roles and responsibilities. I'll start by saying that those of us who went into battle and defeated the First can handle the mission planning."
While Giles sputtered, and Buffy had never known what that expression meant before now, she waved her group forward. "In any case, we're done here. Andrew, show us where our commandeered flying transport is getting fueled."
With a gulp that moved his Adam's apple, he stepped around Giles and waved them forward. As they trotted after him, Faith glanced her way. "B, that was next-level shit. Good thing I'm over my days of pissing you off."
Vi more thoughtfully remarked, "I don't think you were wrong. I mean, it's felt for a while like we're all the students, or the ones who need to learn, while Giles and his guys are all superior. The younger ones are more okay, but the old guard sure like their in-charge-ness."
"Yup. That's the way the Watcher Council ran. They're like old dogs doing old old tricks."
As they neared the manor house entrance on their way to its far side, a Willow-shaped person bounded out of the door. "Goddess, I can't believe how good it is to be me again. Like, I know that sounds self-involved and all, but it's great to fit inside myself." They were all under the canopy that fronted the building by that point, with Spike again putting out sparks.
Without any hesitation, Willow enfolded both Buffy and Spike in an enthusiastic hug. The vampire, a bit thunderstruck, patted her awkwardly even as Buffy returned the hug in her best, non-rib-breaky way.
"I'm sorry that I missed the big 'Spike is here so get over it' reveal. You're both still here, so everyone must've coped okay. Anyway, you'll have to tell me all about it later," the redheaded witch said as she pulled back. "It was only a day but I missed you guys so much. Gwennyth briefed me on everything and I'm coming with you. See my resolve face if you have any objections."
"We missed you too," Buffy and Vi said in tandem, reducing them to laughter.
"What they said," Faith added from her spot a little to Vi's side.
"Of course you're coming with, Red," Spike answered for Buffy, reading the agreement in her face.
Meanwhile, Gwennyth had emerged with a couple of silver-haired women from her coven. "We had a thought. Since we've discovered that at least one ancient spell can cut through whatever is damping magic, we think we might be able to do some weather spells."
Buffy blinked, trying to figure out why a coven of powerful witches was concerned about the weather at this particular moment.
A particularly wrinkled member of Gwennyth's group inched forward, eyes darting between Buffy and her vampire. "We have a very old spell to gather clouds that we can cast where you plan to go, at least until nightfall. For your… companion."
"We can only do it once, though," an unusually tall woman behind Gwennyth volunteered, glancing between Buffy and Spike. "So with apologies, we cannot do it now, or for your journey. But I'm told that the helicopter has ample cargo space away from any sunlight."
A third woman, petite with wrinkles under her snow-white hair, directed her words toward Willow. "Dear, in case you need to know, we'll be using a very old version of the prohibere siccitatis spell."
"Ooh, that gives me a couple of ideas, too," Willow admitted with a widening smile.
—ooOOoo—
Crouched to avoid the rotors, they leapt from the helicopter, weapons in hand. Buffy took point while Spike, Vi, and Faith stepped naturally in position around her while Willow remained behind them. Looking up, Buffy could see where the cloud cover summoned by Gwynneth's friends began, so she hustled them to run and get Spike out of the sun.
About ten yards in, they encountered a thicket of briars and trees that looked suitable for a Halloween movie. By this point, though, Spike recognized where they were, so he led them to a hidden break in what turned out to be several yards of gnarled, pointy hedge.
Suck it Giles, she thought uncharitably as she stepped over a thigh-high, fallen branch. Any people who made it through this palisade for a picnic were members of the Munsters or Addams family, so fully capable of defending themselves.
Spike held out his arm to stop them. With a whisper that only another vampire or Slayer could hear, he said, "One Immortal git at twelve o'clock with about twelve vamps fanning out behind him. One fyarl off to their right at three o'clock."
She was amused that Spike, master of the chaotic fight, had learned military-style lingo and had movements somewhere along the line. She shouldn't be surprised.
"Plan number one?" Faith asked, identifying the first plan they'd discussed on the flight down. The one that was basically "run out and start slicing and dicing."
"Let's go with plan three," Buffy countered. It was the one that started with Buffy going out first, followed by Spike. This plan was basically "annoy the Immortal into revealing his hand." And also maybe flush out any additional fighters while they were at it.
Seeing nods all around, she pulled her scythe from its sheath. With a grin at Spike, she stepped into the clearing in front of her.
"Niccolo Apollinaris," she called out, although the tanned, dark-haired man had already spotted her. "I hear you wanted to date me."
"Ah, is this the true Buffy Summers? I knew eventually we'd meet. Alas, I've had my fill of Slayers for the time being. But if you're lonely, I'll make an exception just for you."
"Give it up, mate. Slayer's taken." Spike had appeared directly behind her, as they'd planned. Good vampire.
Niccolo gave a loud, theatrical sigh. "William, it's so… unamusing to see you again. But unsurprising. You're like a rock in my shoe. And yet, your little stunt with Wolfram and Hart in the City of Angels provided some benefits. First, it helped me discover the practical joke the Slayers played on me with a fake version of Miss Summers. I have to imagine the real one is better in bed, yes?"
Buffy reached out behind her to grab Spike's wrist, holding him in place for now.
"And second?" she prompted. If there was anything she'd learned, it was that evil begat big mouths.
Niccolo chuckled. "It brought a refugee from Los Angeles to my door. A first class sorcerer who saw the wisdom of decamping from the foolishness Angelus unleashed. As his gift to me, he gave me the lovely charm that I've used to blanket this dreary island with a magical damper and to remove the blanket, should I wish. It provides other benefits as well." He flashed a crappy looking ring that looked right out of the Liz Taylor collection that had given them the garish amulet that Spike had worn to end the Sunnydale hellmouth.
"Did he get that from a gumball machine?"
Niccolo laughed out loud at that comment, although it had the intended effect. The wizard moved in the shrubs behind the fyarl. And Spike murmured, "Recognize him. Joseph Bryce."
Meanwhile, Niccolo had continued talking. "You're precious, Buffy Summers. Your imposter was nowhere near as witty, so I should have suspected nefarious play. Oh, but speaking of imposters, how did you enjoy our little swap to take out your notorious witch? It seemed fitting. You gave me a doppelganger Slayer, no? I gave you a doppelganger witch."
"Buddy, you have no idea about doppelganger Willows," she muttered. More loudly she said, "So you were behind that fun swappage?"
He moved his arm in some Upstairs-Downstairs gesture that Spike probably recognized. To Buffy, it just looked like he was imitating that Stefon guy on Saturday Night Live while pointing to himself.
"Clever and impressive," she said, lying through her teeth. "So what's with the vamps at the circle stones?"
"The circle stones are like a battery to give me the magic power I need. At least that's how my new, pet sorcerer explains it. Beyond that, frankly I thought perhaps you'd send your quaint little Slayer army to take out all those deliciously stake-worthy vamps and give me more Slayers to capture. Taking them off the board, as it were. Maybe I'd even manage to capture that little 'inferior' who pretended to be you."
He shrugged. "Unfortunately, you saw through it. Oh well. It was just a gambit. A throw away, if you will."
"Release them."
"Oh my darling, that's not going to happen. After all, there's balance to consider. You add so many active Slayers to the world. I capture them. Eventually maybe some will be useful."
"But surely you're not so sad to have lost your Slayer girlfriend that you had to capture a bunch of them for your own little Slayer Dating Game. Or was it to finally meet me? I mean Dracula at least came to where I lived without all this hoohah."
"Oh darling, no. How young and self involved you are. Being here is, for me, the culmination of centuries of waiting. The stars aligned, the players are all available, and the world is simply too corrupt and vapid to continue under mere human control. It's time to return to a better order."
"Hence this location for our little meet cute?"
"Indeed," the dark-haired man mustered an oily smile.
"Aren't you missing a player or two? Like Big Bird and the Cookie Monster's giant brother?" She looked around as though spying for those characters.
"Not now that you're here. You fulfill the prophecy, darling. Surely you know that."
She felt Spike shift behind her, and she gave the go-ahead signal for him to relay to the rest of their party. At the same time, he surprised her by handing her his Zippo. "Good luck charm, aint it?" he whispered.
In a voice loud enough for her waiting Slayers to hear, she said, "I can't tell you how tired I am of being Prophecy Girl."
As she finished speaking, a gunshot echoed from behind her, rendering her temporarily deaf. Unfortunately it seemed to bounce off Niccolo. A second shot, aimed at his ring, also bounced off. A third shot had better effect since it hit the fyarl, which went down like a… a big thing that fell in a lump. At the same time, crossbow arrows slid through the air and took down three of the vamps behind Niccolo. Oh, and a bonus fourth vamp was skewered by a bolt that passed through one of the dusty three.
The remaining vamps charged. Spike moved from behind Spike and the fight was on. Faith emerged from the side and took on a set of vamps while Spike twirled with his sword in one hand and a stake in the other. Buffy moved like a dervish as she slashed and staked her way toward Niccolo before she was stopped by a shimmering field that separated her from the dark-haired man.
With a glance, she saw that Vi, with Willow, had engaged the sorcerer off to the side. Then, with a visible, dark cord leading from Willow's fingers, the sorcerer was bound and the shimmering field in front of Buffy dissolved. At which point she saw Faith still engaged with a handful of vampires. More importantly, she saw that Niccolo had Spike banded in one of his arms. She saw red, seeing blood coursing from one of his temples.
She was all set to move forward and then saw that, with his other hand, Niccolo held one of Spike's stakes. The man had registered as human to Buffy's senses, but clearly he was something more. Either that, or his ring had additional powers she hadn't guessed. Because nobody could hold Spike that way if he didn't want to be held.
"It seems we have an impasse," Niccolo said while he positioned the stake over Spike's heart.
"Don't listen to him, Slayer. And you, Rogue, keep fighting."
"So noble. So pointless," Niccolo the smarmy Immortal said with an arrogant hair flip.
While he spoke, Buffy gauged the distance between her, Niccolo, Spike, and all the other combatants on the field. Time seemed to stop.
And then a blue flash surprised her. It also showed her that, somehow, time had actually stopped because nobody but her moved.
From within the blue, the familiar figure of Illyria appeared. "That fool tricked you both to come here, little phoenix, but it is not time for either of you to interrupt life." Her eyes flicked to Spike before she shifted to point disdainfully at the unmoving Niccolo. "He could channel the demon god he seeks, but I do not choose to share this world with that one. I am the final Old One, Illyria the Merciless, who needs to be here to stop this. You and I will make a truce and end him. My pet taught me this word, truce."
"Um, okay. But remember that Spike isn't your pet anymore." Buffy couldn't believe that she was disagreeing with a god-king while her lover stood motionless in Niccolo's arms. But that didn't seem to bother Illyria.
"You are brave," she said in her flat, inhuman voice. "He is yours. You are worthy. Does that make a truce between us?"
"I agree to your offer of a truce. That's how it's done."
"Good," Illyria nodded once before turning. Arms wide, she released a painful frequency into the air. Time resumed moving forward as Niccolo fell to the ground, blood flowing from his nose. Buffy ran toward him, moving Spike away as she slashed and severed his ring-bearing hand from his arm. Ignoring the man's scream, she slashed down again and sliced through the ring with her scythe, smashing it into pieces.
"Gotcha," Willow called from where she'd been restraining the former Wolfram and Hart sorcerer. Her magic had clearly been restored, as she now had the man enveloped in a white magic cage that blinked out of existence as she teleported it somewhere; probably to Devon. At the same time, she flicked a spell that brought down a vamp that had temporarily gotten the better of Faith.
Buffy, meanwhile, saw the so-called Immortal struggling to rise from the ground.
Willow called out, "Buffy, his aura is pure evil. I can see it. He's not human anymore."
And, in fact, while she watched, the screaming man's tan skin began to ripple with scales. His legs began to curl backward at the knee and his shoulders widened, popping through his shirt.
Illyria approached from where she'd evidently been healing Spike's head wound. With a sword as blue as her skin, she struck at the fallen man-demon, beheading him in a single stroke.
"Holy crap," Buffy said, stepping back. Not that she was squeamish, but still.
"You must take his head with you and burn it to ashes," Illyria said from beside her. "He's absorbed too much essence from the god he chose and will rise again if you do not."
With a sigh, she looked at her witchy friend, who was now standing close as she inspected the partially transformed body on the ground. Buffy could hear her murmuring something, whether a prayer for the dead or a spell to keep him in hell she wasn't sure.
Spike approached. "I got this, love. Done it before." With care, he picked up the head and deposited it in a drugstore shopping bag that he pulled from one of his pockets. "You heard Red. He wasn't human anymore. Probably not for a long while.
She sighed. She was a Slayer but she hated casualties. While she watched, Willow poofed Spike's disgusting shopping bag to wherever she poofed things to, freeing the vampire's hands.
"I know." As she spoke, another blue pop half-blinded her. Looking around, she saw that Illyria had disappeared as unannounced as she'd arrived. Meanwhile another man she'd not seen before had stepped forward. He was covered in tattoos, although maybe once he'd looked nice.
"Lindsay McDonald," Spike said, brandishing his sword. "You're dead."
"Lot of that going around," the tattooed man said.
"You look like a bloody shanghaied matey back from a decade on a prison ship."
"Close enough."
"Friend of yours, this Lindsay?" Buffy asked.
"Not so much," he replied, still holding his sword aloft.
As Spike approached him, Lindsay raised his hands like a thief being stopped by the police.
"Hey Spike, no need. The Powers gave me a chance for a do-over, which is why I'm here. My whole gig is to protect the gates to the Deeper Well. You know, since your sire and former boss Angel decided to off the guy who'd done the job since before the Crusades."
He paused while sharing a look of exasperation with Spike. Then he pointed to the fallen Niccolo Apollinaris. "Your buddy there was an enigma. "The Powers couldn't read his intent. I guess he always played both sides to the middle. Guess he used that against them, and used me against them too. I'm used to that kind of double-dealing. But I know you and your ladies. If you're not here to open the gates, I'm fine with it. We can all walk away."
"Do you believe him?" Buffy said.
"Guess I do, pet."
"Then we're done here. Nice to meet you Lindsay. Hope we never have the honor again."
The man smiled while backing toward the dark, gnarled and frankly eerie trees that grew in profusion around the Deeper Well's opening. "Well, that's fine with me, darlin'. It's been real."
"Uh huh," she replied. She saw that Spike was about to say some final word to the former lawyer, or maybe just wish him luck, but he'd already disappeared. There was a lot of that going around these days too.
"Wanker," Spike muttered. Turning to follow Buffy back to the Slayers, he added, "There's one less pain in my arse, then."
"So what now?" she asked.
Vi, who'd been chatting up the very Major helicopter pilot on the way over said, "We just have to get to the area beyond the spell circle and he'll come pick us up. I think the sun may have set, though, so maybe Spike can hang out with us instead of making the mad dash like before."
"Sounds good," Buffy agreed as she reached for Spike's hand. "Lead on," she directed Vi.
It was, indeed, dark by the time they left the spelled area.
While they waited, Faith wandered closer. "So, what's next, B? You done with it all, after Giles' bullshit earlier?"
"Well, you can probably see why I'm not eager to live at the Council compound." She felt Spike huffing in amusement at her side.
"Too right," he agreed.
"But there's still so much we can do to make it better," Vi protested.
"There's another hellmouth at Cleveland," Willow commented with a cheeky grin.
"And there's the whole amazing world of being a normal girl doing normal things with her undead boyfriend," Faith said. "Seriously, though. It's like I said when we left Sunnydale, you're not 'the one girl' anymore by a factor of humongous. You can do what you want. If you want to be Big B with us at the Council, knocking out idiots and making change, I'm with it. If you want something else, I'll support your choice."
"What do you think, Spike?" Vi asked.
"I'll give my two pence later, but basically I'll go where my lady wants. Live where she chooses."
"You may find yourself in a shotgun shack. That's punk, right?"
"Talking Heads ain't punk, love."
"Are you my vampire?"
"Absolutely yours. Eyeballs to… well, girly pink toenails, exactly as they should be."
"Then shut up and kiss me."
"That I can do, pet. That I can do." With that, he pulled her into his arms and reminded Buffy that his kisses were like life itself. Hands began to wander as one kiss turned into two, three, and however many it took for Buffy to be thoroughly boneless with desire.
"Oh jeez. Get a room," Faith said in mock disdain, although her smile gave her away.
At the sound of propellers heading their way, Buffy loosened herself from Spike's grip, smiling as she did so. Like her vampire, she realized she was content to be wherever she was, as long as he was at her side. She could finally admit that this was what love was all about. Too bad it took both of them dying and then getting resurrected for her to realize it, but she was pretty stubborn as he liked to remind her.
But for now, she was heading back to the Council compound, ready to make the changes they needed to support the Slayers her and Willow's change had brought into the world. She had work to do, exactly as she liked it.
…
The End
END NOTES
This final chapter fulfills the following Challenge Prompt(s) for the 2022 Elysian Fields Mystery Month Challenge.
1. Story must have an HEA/HFN
At the sound of propellers heading their way, Buffy loosened herself from Spike's grip, smiling as she did so. Like her vampire, she realized she was content to be wherever she was, as long as he was at her side. She could finally admit that this was what love was all about. Too bad it took both of them dying and then getting resurrected for her to realize it, but she was pretty stubborn as he liked to remind her.