TITLE: Darkest Before Dawn
#36 "Favor"
AUTHOR: Nmissi
PART: 36/?
DISCLAIMER: I own Nothing
and No one. Especially not Spike. If I did,
what makes you think I'd
share him with you?
DISTRIBUTION: Anybody, just
credit me and let me know where it's
going.
Feedback: Please.
Nmissi@aol.com
SUMMARY: The way the world
would work if I wrote the Buffyverse.
Giles watched carefully while his slayer trained. It had
been weeks since he'd seen her like this, and her appearance disturbed him
greatly. Her thin arms, her nonexistent breasts, her collarbones sharp as glass
under the fragile, sallow skin. She looked like hell, and he was frightened for
her.
He held that creature responsible. Spike. The name was
anathema. His mouth turned into a hard line as he thought of him.
If Buffy wasn't focusing so much attention on her 'lover'
then perhaps she would devote more of it to her own care, and Dawn's.
"You're dropping your left, Buffy." He spoke tentatively
to her. His suggestions lately had been met with dark looks and hurt feelings.
She slumped against the wall, and slid down it. He walked
over to her, and squatted down alongside.
"I'm out of shape, Giles. And I'm too tired to train."
He considered his words a moment before responding.
"Yes, well, I imagine you're overexerting yourself.
Between slaying, the gallery, and everything else.."
She seemed as if she wanted to say something. But she'd
been like this a lot, recently, and yet had not been forthcoming.
He dropped his voice, making his words soft, trying to
convey with them that she was safe, that she was loved.
"Please, Buffy. Won't you tell me what's wrong?"
She shook her head, and stood up. He followed her out of
the training room.
In the front room of the store, she sat down a the the
big table, and pulled a diet coke from her purse, along with a granola bar. She
chewed it halfheartedly, then tossed most of it into the trash.
Giles sat down next to her.
"Buffy, your mother would not want to see you like this.
We both know that. You are so pale, so thin…"
His words trailed off, but she took his meaning. Everyone
had been on at her for months about the weight she'd lost. It was nothing new.
"I'm okay, Giles. Tired, but that's no big. Tired
happens."
She thought about the baby, and how very sleepy she was
these days. Her doctor said it was normal to be tired like this.
Giles had changed subjects on her, while she was not
listening. He was going on about Glory, now.
"- so it seems she's concentrating her efforts in L.A.
still. She presumes the key to be there, since she felt it through Ben, I
suppose. Cordelia faxed me some figures I find very troubling."
"I don't want to hear about Glory," Buffy remarked,
acidly.
"Buffy, surely we have a responsibility to those poor
people. Every day we wait, she harms someone else."
Buffy turned a vacant stare on her watcher.
"And I'm supposed to do what, exactly? Go up there and
tell her to stop? THINK, Giles. I can't stop her. All I can do is keep Dawn
away from her until her time runs out. Ben said she's on a schedule. I just
have to wait her out."
"And while you wait? Every day, she drives another human
being mad. Imagine the suffering, Buffy. She's ripping homes, families, apart.
She's destroying lives, as surely as if she'd killed those people."
"I can't worry about that right now, Giles. It is Not My
Problem. I have responsibilities here, responsibilities that don't include
getting myself killed."
His voice held awe, as he responded.
"You're afraid of her."
Buffy looked at him like he was a moron.
"Uh- Yeah? I am."
He shook his head.
"I understand that, Buffy, better than you know. But you
have an obligation to protect those people."
He played on her weakness.
"You love your sister, I know that. But think about all
the sisters she's hurting out there. You've lost your mother, do you really
want that for someone else? When you might be able to prevent it?"
She exploded at him.
"You know what obligations I have? I'm obligated to take
care of Dawn. I'm obligated to take care of me. I'm obligated to take care of
my baby. That is all the obligations I intend to have, anymore. I've saved the
world enough times- Let somebody else go do it for a change."
His mouth hung slightly open, and she realized she'd let
it slip.
He sputtered.
"Y-Y-Your BABY?"
She sank back down beside him.
"I'm about seven weeks pregnant, Giles. I'm having a
baby."
He just blinked at her.
She sighed.
"That's why I'm not going back to L.A. Cordy called me,
Angel called me…You know what? I just can't seem to summon up enough energy to
care. I feel bad for those people, I really do. But I can't risk it."
She laughed hollowly.
"It's hard enough going out on patrol every night. You
don't know the fear, Giles. I've never been afraid like this before. But
suddenly every stumbling newborn vampire looks is as intimidating as Angelus.
All I want to do is go home and hide, tell Spike to bar the door and get the
shotgun."
She saw the disapproval in his eyes, the look he got
whenever she mentioned Spike's name.
"Giles, he's been going out on my rounds with me.
Sometimes he even goes for me. I'm so tired and so scared, he thinks I'll make
a mistake, get us both killed."
"And how does Spike feel about impending parenthood?"
He spit the name out like a dirty word.
She smiled at him, a look of affection in her eyes as she
thought about Spike.
"He's coming around."
"What,
you think all of a sudden that the Watcher's Council is the Ultimate Authority
on Vampire Mythlore?"
Angel was angry. Wesley had been poring over texts for
hours, with no end yet in sight. And he'd found nothing to go on. But the final
straw had been when he'd delicately enquired if maybe there WASN"T anything to
go on.
"So you think if the COW doesn't know about Lilah and
Lindsay, then they just go away? They aren't an issue anymore? These people are
my family, Wesley. I need that information."
He sighed.
"Maybe they'll come up with something on their own."
It certainly didn't look as if HIS connections were
getting them anywhere.
Lilah poked her head around the door.
"Hate to interrupt your tirade, Angel. But you've got a
phone call on line 2?"
She shot a look at Cordy who gave her an innocent shrug.
"My nails are wet," she explained.
Lilah rolled her eyes, but she let it drop. Angel went to
the phone, and clicked over to his private line.
"Hello?" he said.
"S'me, Peaches. How's unlife treatin' you?"
Angel felt the corners of his mouth crack into a rare,
honest grin.
"William! Glad you called. It's not bad on my end. Right
now, anyway… How are things on yours?"
His voice was jovial, but there was real concern in his
heart. He'd been very worried about Spike. He had not heard from him directly
since he'd left the hotel that morning. Angel had wondered if he'd ever hear
from his boy again.
"It's okay."
Angel crinkled up his forehead. Something wasn't right
with that tone of voice.
"Spike, what is it? What's going on?"
Spike leaned his head up against the wallpaper, drinking
in the sound of his Sire's voice. It's rich tones still felt like home to him,
even now. He measured his words carefully. He needed a favor from Angelus, and
he wasn't quite sure how to go about getting it.
He opted for Restrained Honesty. It seemed the least
likely method to get him into further trouble.
"Actually, Angel, things're a little bit complicated
right now. But I'll handle it… I could use a bit of a favor from you, however-
if you're up to it."
Angel hesitated. Favors for Spike usually involved a
goodly amount of money, in either direct -purchase form, or in the fashion of a
bribe.
"How much do you need, and who am I supposed to pay off?"
He sounded tired, he knew that. But it was part of the
ritual. When enacting the role of the Pater Familias, he tended to go all
hangdog. It was expected of him.
"S'nothing like that, Angel. Well, not so much."
Spike's pride was withering, but he stuck it out. Pride
was an expensive commodity, one his family couldn't really afford right now.
The gallery was doing okay, but he needed to plan ahead. He needed to get
things in order. Angel could be
excellent in that capacity.
Spike swallowed back his independence and made his
request.
"I need documents, Angel, as valid as you can make them.
I know you have connections that can do it for me."
He lowered his voice respectfully.
"
I really need your help with this."
On
his end Angel nodded as he answered.
"Yes,
I can put you in touch with the right people for that. But I don't understand
why you need me, Spike. Fake Ids can be had much cheaper in Sunnydale than L.
A."
He
paused for a beat, then added,
"Or
did Buffy stake all your underworld buddies."
Ha
ha. Funny man. Let him laugh, fine. Just so long as he gets me a legal
identity, thought Spike.
"I
need better stuff, Angel. Like I said, I want papers as authentic as possible,
with my real name, and my real birthday, if not the right birthyear. It needs
to hold water in any court of law. And
I want the facts as close to the truth as I can reasonably get them. Can you
get me that, Angel? Is it possible?"
Angel
tried to fathom what his grandchilde was up to. He racked his brain, but came
up empty.
"What's
going on, Spike?'
His
answer was a frustrated sigh on the other end of the phone.
"I
don't want to go into it over the phone, Angel. Look, can you hook me up with
the stuff or not?"
"Are
you in some kind of trouble with the law?"
Spike
groaned loudly.
"No.
It's nothing like that, really. Well, Giles did try to deport me recently, but
nothing's come of it yet. Hopefully nothing will. But this is something else
entirely."
"Then
what the hell do you want them for? I'll get them for you, but what do you want
with them?"
"It's personal, Angel. Look, I'll talk to you about it
when I see you next, all right?"